#whatever it is i know it won’t be pretty

[rodolfoparras]

18+ MDNI 18+

Thinking about playfully wrestling with your boyfriend while he makes mindless comments about your strength “oh you’re so strong, don’t think I’d be able to escape even if I wanted,” he says in wonder, eyes practically shining as he squeezes your biceps, “you ought to be careful never know when I can break” he says jokingly while doing a half hearted attempt to try and escape your embrace.

Slowly but surely you start getting more and more rough with him: squeezing and pressing down onto spots, not enough to hurt but enough to make him uncomfortable. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t think you’d be able to get away if someone like me were to attack you.” The relaxed look on his face swiftly turns into one of concern and you can see the way he slowly attempts to back away from you.

But it’s to no avail, he’s trapped in your embrace, with you steadily inching closer to his face, a big sharp grin painted on your own face. “I mean what are you supposed to do? Can’t even push them away,” you say referring to his futile attempts at trying to push you away from him. “Guess you’d just have to stay and take whatever they’re willing to give you,” you continue, proving your point when you easily spread his legs wide and ground your cock up against his ass, all while he can’t do anything but helplessly watch as you twist and turn his body as if he were a ragdoll “Bet there’s plenty of things they would love to do to a pretty boy like you. Don’t you think?”

“Oh god- don’t -dont say that,” he gasps out, head falling into the crook of your neck as if he’s horrified. But you can feel his fully hard cock from where your hand is resting against his thighs , can hear the muffled whines and whimpers as he grinds himself up against you, can see it on him how he he’s torn between pushing you away and completely stopping this little game or pulling you closer to him to see how far you’ll take this.

What a sick little thing you got at your hands.

“How about this?” You say, hand yanking ahold of his hair to bring his ear closer to you “You try to run and we’ll see if I can catch you. Does that sound alright?”

This time you don’t get a verbal response. Instead you can see it on his face what he’s trying to say: and what happens if you catch me?

The silence is swiftly broken with a soft thud as you release your hold on him.”Run, quick,”

He doesn’t waste a second scrambling up the stairs, practically tripping over his feet as he turns corners. He looks and sounds absolute terrified and you can’t help but love that, cock growing harder as you follow him up.

With each step you take you can hear his rapid breaths getting louder and louder , can feel his own thudding steps as you walk down the narrow hallway, can practically smell him - not some cheap cologne nor any deodorant but rather a mix of sickly sweet vanilla and sugar- something that’s just so him - something you’d want to sink your teeth in and drain completely. You follow that very scent all the way to your shared bedroom.

And there he stands, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, or rather like a animal that’s bleeding out on the side of the road, with his cock still painfully hard and with a suspicious dark spot on his sweatpants.

“Oh sweetheart,” you coo, voice dripping with faux concern, while slowly walking up to him like he was an injured animal of some sort. “Why do you look so scared hmm? You know I won’t actually hurt you,” you continue, watching in amusement as he swiftly backs up til his back is flushed with the bedroom wall.

You’re quick to press yourself flush against his chest, once again trapping him in your embrace.“Come on. You wound me. I really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You know that,” You say eyes once again flicking up to the wet spot on his pants “Look, got yourself all worked up and for what?” You ask, as you cup the wet bulge over his pants.

“Stop - ah don’t” he cries out, sounding and looking absolutely horrified as he tries to push your hand away but once again it’s to no avail and he has to stand there as you freely grope him. However it doesn’t take much before he’s bucking up into your touch, head lolling back against the wall as whines and whimpers freely pour past his tongue “fuck- so good mph,”

“See sweetheart, I just want to take care of you, wouldn’t dream of hurting you,”you say with a soft smile as you continue to rub him through his pants. The man only furiously nods, begs and please of more more more, continuously rolling off of his tongue as he practically humps the palm of your hand.

“Unless you want me to, that is,” suddenly you’re flipping him around, hand rough as ever as you shove him up against the wall before slotting your leg between his thighs.

The poor thing squeaks in suprise, tears freely spilling from his eyes ,as incoherent words start pouring from his mouth.

“Come on now sweetheart,” you groan out , hand once again yanking at his hair and successfully pulling a hiss from him “you know that need you to use your words. Now tell em what you want yeah?”

Once again he’s fumbling over his words, too overwhelmed with emotions to form a coherent sentence. However you won’t take that for answer, hand once again yanking at his hair till he finally responds to you.

“Want- ah want you to touch me sir ah- please do anything touch me- hah fuck me - hurt me just anything please please-“

“Well who am I to say no when you ask so nicely?”

[chanceofwhat]

You can also share something mundane that happened to you in your life recently! You can lie about how recent it was if you’d like!

If you have a pet, anything about the pet is always good. “I got my dog a new toy the other day, and she absolutely loves it, it’s the cutest thing.” “Yesterday, my cat came up and drank out of my water cup right in front of me, like I wasn’t even there!” “My friend got this pet hamster recently, he’s so cute!”

Otherwise, TV is a good choice. Preferably something popular, but it can be something niche as long as you stay vague about it and are careful not to be in explaining mode for too long. You can even say you rewatched something that you know everyone likes! “Have you been watching the new season of Squid Game?” “I rewatched Home Alone this past Christmas— such a good movie!” “I’ve been rewatching a lot of marvel movies recently. Have you seen many of those?” These also tend to transition well into questions, such as “What have you been watching?” “What’s your favorite show?” “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”

Just make a statement about the weather, “It was very windy this morning.” “It’s colder today than it was yesterday.” “It’s supposed to storm later this week.” “It’s sunny right now.” Or the day of the week (Monday is bad, Friday is good, weekend is best, compare other days to these) “Ugh, it’s Monday.” “It’s almost Friday!” Etc. Statements like this encourage others, especially neurotypicals, to comment/share their opinions.

Usually, with those, they’ll match your tone, or if you’re neutral, they’ll give you an easily predictable tone cue to follow. Sometimes they won’t, or they’ll even disagree with you. “I like the cold!” “I don’t mind the wind.” “Not as sunny as I’d like it to be.” “Actually, for a Monday, my day’s been pretty good so far.” Etc. This is okay and normal. It doesn’t mean they’re unhappy with you, it’s not a negative reaction, it just adds dynamic to the conversation. You can either concede and ‘realize’ that they’re right (“Yea, wind isn’t so bad.” Or “Actually, my day’s been alright too!”) or you can continue to disagree (“I don’t do well in the cold.” Or “That’s good for you, ‘cause my day’s been dreary.”) Either of these are correct.

But in the end, a generic question is often best. “Did you do anything fun this weekend/lately?” Or “Got any fun plans this week/weekend?” That allows them to talk about whatever they want to talk about, often enabling them to launch into a story. They want to tell their story. Be interested, nod, match their tone, they’re not looking/listening to you very intently during their story, they just want to tell it to someone. They’ll be ecstatic if you match their tone correctly at the climax.

Small talk is a form of connection. They’re making sounds at you and they want you to reciprocate. The words themselves aren’t the important part. I know, it’s a strange dance, but the neurotypicals really appreciate it, and it’s vital if you want to form and keep base-level connections with people. Not everybody wants to engage with you philosophically, but that doesn’t mean they don’t want to be your cordial work-friend, etc. You can do it! I believe in you!

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[borathae]

Pink Ribbons

“Pink ribbons around his dainty wrists, his pretty hair a mess and drool covering his puffy lips. Your husband has never looked cuter.”

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, Mommy Dom!Reader, cozy BDSM, safe power play, a cute chicken & movie date, he is very snuggly and clingy <3, he is also very obedient and the goodest boy, praise, good boy kink, loving dirty talk, bondage with pink silk ribbons, she takes videos of him because he is the cutest, handjob as he sits on her lap, gentle movements with lots of love, lots of kisses and touches all over his pretty body, a lil bit of edging, he is in such a cozy & safe subspace, he cums all over himself, did i mention that this is incredibly soft & cozy?, did you know that this is cozy?

Wordcount: 4.9k

a/n: i love him so much!!!!! omfg i'm sobbing :( he is the cutest pookie ever 😭 this story made me feel very cozy as i was writing it, i hope you guys can feel cozy as well hehe 💗 did you know that this is cozy?

“Jungkook, Jungkook, Bunny, Bunny, Bunny”, you come running around the corner calling his name repeatedly.

Jungkook, who is in the middle of a relaxing yoga session next to the windows, lifts his head. 

“Yes?”

You plop down in front of him, holding your phone.

“I saw something.”

“Okay?” Jungkook sits back, knowing that he won’t be able to continue his exercises until you showed him whatever you saw.

“Do you have time? Is it okay?” you ask.

“Yes, show me”, he assures you, scooting closer to you so he can see better.

You recently downloaded some famous video app because your college friends all talk about it and you wanted to feel included. You told him that you are only doing it to be trendy and to actually know what the young people talk about, but Jungkook has a gist that you are finding a liking in the app yourself. Sometimes he catches you literally cackling at your phone because of something funny you saw on the app. Other times, like today, you come running to show him whatever delighted you.

“I just saw this and it’s so cute. Look.”

You flip the phone and show him the video. It is a video of a generally perceived as attractive man filmed in pink light. Jungkook’s heart tightens in jealousy, his stomach sinks.

“Isn’t it cute?” you ask him.

“Why do you think that other men are cute?” Jungkook throws back with a huge, massive, immense pout, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “hmpf.”

“What? No you stupid noodle, it’s about the ribbons. Look.” You repeat the video. “His girlfriend tied ribbons around his arms and his torso and his wrists. Isn’t that so cute? We could do that too.”

“Ooooooh” Jungkook’s lips form the perfect O-shape and his eyes widen, arms relaxing, “ooooh you mean thaaat.”

You slap his chest gently.

“Stupid noodle. Of course I do. He is not cute. You are.”

Jungkook grins, “course I am.”

You roll your eyes. He is such a jealous baby sometimes.

“Whatever, silly. What do you think of the idea? Should we play with ribbons?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to think for long.

“Yes, I love the idea”, he agrees, nodding his head. 

“Coolio as fuck.”

Jungkook laughs, “you don’t sound trendy when you talk like this. Just saying.”

“Whatever.” You stand up. “I’ll be going ribbon shopping. Should I get takeout?”

“Yes, god. I want chicken.”

“Alrighty right. I’m going now. See you later alligator.”

“My love, please stop talking like this”, Jungkook laughs.

You merely grin at him and then leave, telling him that you won’t take long and that you love him.

Jungkook returns to his yoga session, finding great relaxation this way. His week was very stressful and yoga always calms him down.

He already finished his session, now getting tomorrow’s outfit ready, when you come back home. It is not a work outfit, but a date outfit because tomorrow is date day. Jungkook has been looking forward to date day the entire week. It is your turn to plan the activities and you hinted at bowling. Jungkook really loves bowling. 

“My love, I’m home!”

“I’m upstairs!” 

You appear in the dressing room soon, carrying the bags of your shopping tour.

“I got the stuff”, you tell him, grinning proudly.

“Yeah? That’s so cool, my love.” 

“Wanna eat the chicken on the sofa?” 

“Wanna watch a movie as we do?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure, let’s do that then. I’m picking out an outfit for tomorrow.”

You smile at him, “very good. Make sure that you can move in it well.”

Jungkook giggles and nods his head obediently. He loves date day! 

“Good boy. Come downstairs once you’re done. I’m setting up the chicken.” 

“I understand. Thank you, Mommy.”

You sit on the floor, switching through your movie choices, when Jungkook joins you. He does so rather vigorously, plopping down next to you to wrap his limbs around you and pull you into the biggest cheek smooch ever.

“Mmmmmmwuah” he lets out, following the smooch with a nose nuzzle against your cheek. 

You chuckle fondly, caressing his lower arms, “you’re a cutie. Did you pick out a nice outfit?”

“Yes, you’ll like it a lot”, he says, resting his chin on your shoulder to gaze at you, “Mommy, you’re so pretty.”

You look at him, smile and kiss his forehead. 

“You’re feeling clingy tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, really clingy.” Jungkook gives you a big squeeze and nuzzle. “It’s because tomorrow is date day. I love date days so much.”

“I love them too.” You say fondly. “Should we watch a horror movie or something romantic?”

“I want romantic. I feel too soft for horror tonight. Is that okay for you?” 

“Sure. Anything my soft Bunny wants. Should we watch this one?”

Jungkook, still snuggled against you, turns his head so he can look at the TV. A movie you both haven’t seen yet. You talked about watching it together.

“Yes, let’s do that. We haven’t seen that one yet.”

“I heard it’s great”, you say and press play. 

The movie starts, but you shift your attention to Jungkook. You put some distance so you could grab his sleeves and roll them up for him.

Jungkook lets you with a fluttering heart. His heart flutters even more when you put a paper bib around his neck so he wouldn’t get dirty. It came with the chicken and carries the restaurant’s logo. You finish the sweet gesture by pinching both his cheeks softly.

“There we go, now you’re proper”, you say, making him lift his shoulders shyly.

You turn to the front, rolling up your own sleeves and putting on a bib as well. You hand Jungkook a pair of plastic gloves, putting on your own. 

“I can’t wait to dig in”, you say, picking up the first chicken piece of many.

Jungkook needs a few moments before he can start eating. Moments like these are no big deal to you, but they are huge deals to him. Taking care of him comes so natural to you that he should already be used to it, but he truly isn’t. It always feels so special when you coddle him. 

He needs to hug you, even if you are already eating. 

“Hm?” you let out, eyes glued to the TV and mouth stuffed with delicious chicken.

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, Bunny. Now eat baby, before it gets cold.”

“Yes, okay”, Jungkook listens well, putting on his gloves to finally dig in. 

“Good boy. Do you like it? I went to your favourite place.”

“I love it so much. It’s so yummy”, Jungkook gushes, stuffing his mouth full of chicken.

“That’s good to hear. Eat as much as you want.”

You and he are silent as you eat, enjoying the movie fully. The chicken tastes delicious. You went for three different flavours. Natural in a crispy, crunchy breading. Honey soy garlic which tastes so rich and savoury. Spicy sweet chilly which is Jungkook’s favourite because he likes spicy food. You like it as well, but Jungkook seems to be truly obsessed with it tonight, so you let him have most of it while you stick to the other flavors. They are delicious as well and you want to see Jungkook happy. He is so adorable when he is happy from good food that you could never ever take this away from him, even if it meant missing out on your favourite chicken flavour. 

You clean up after finishing. Jungkook wanted to do it because you already did everything else but you told him to stay put. He listened very well. 

Tonight is a certain energy present between you and him. A sort of silent understanding that your roles are more prominent even in the mundane, domestic things. Granted, stuff like taking care of him and praising him, are your daily tasks, but tonight there is energy in them. Electric, warm energy. Jungkook gives you the same kind of energy back, letting you know that he is in a mild subspace just from the way he moves and talks around you. 

You return with chocolate cookies and cocoa as dessert. Jungkook is waiting for you on his knees and sitting on his crossed feet, hands folded on his lap. He stayed put. The position, he decided to do it in, is the last proof you needed to know that he feels the same energies you are feeling. This is a domestic, relaxing moment as much as it is also casual, soft power play. 

“I hope that you like cookies and cocoa for dessert. I was feeling cozy. Careful, the cup is hot.”

“Yes, this sounds yummy. Thank you for preparing it”, Jungkook says, accepting the cocoa with sweater paws. He blows on it to cool it down.

“Of course, anything for you.”

You sit down on the sofa and press play on the movie. There is still half an hour left. You bend forward and rake Jungkook’s hair gently. He shivers, tilting his head back and gazing at you. He sets the cup down on the table.

“Who’s my good boy?” you ask him.

“I am.” He lets out and exhales shakily, leaving his position so he could hug your legs and nuzzle his face into your lap. “I'm your good boy.”

“That’s right, my good boy”, you say, leaning back comfortably. You begin combing his hair with your fingers, scratching his scalp soothingly.

Jungkook stays seated by your feet, resting his cheek on your thigh. He watches the movie with heavy lids, tingling each time you scratch him behind his ear. Only when he takes a sip of the cocoa, he sits up for a vast moment. 

After around ten minutes you bend down again, kissing the side of his neck. Jungkook shivers, letting out a surprised gasp. 

“My good boy”, you says softly and straighten up, scratching his undercut gently. From the corners of your eyes, you watch how he is squirming. 

Another ten minutes pass and you both have finished the cocoa and cookies. Jungkook stays seated after setting his empty cup down, shimmying in discomfort. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“My butt hurts.”

“What? No way, come up here immediately.”

Jungkook leaves the floor, climbing onto the sofa with you. He lies down on his side, resting his head on your lap. Then he sighs, melting in relaxation.

“Is that better?” you ask him, rubbing his hip gently.

“Yeah, it’s so comfy.”

“That’s good.”

You slide your hand to his butt, eliciting a gasp from him. 

“Relax. I’m just gonna get rid of the ache, okay?” you assure him.

He giggles, wiggling his butt against your hand.

The rest of the movie is spent like this. By the end of it, Jungkook can barely keep his eyes open. He is so relaxed in your presence that the word stress doesn’t even exist in his mind anymore. Like most romance movies, it makes him cry when the couple is falling into each other’s arms happily.

You watch it happen fondly, providing him comfort by scratching his back slowly while he sniffles and whimpers in happy tears. You are so immensely in love with him. He brought out the real you, the you who is so happy to be soft and who loves to watch cheesy romance movies.

Jungkook lets out an especially loud sniffle, shoulders shaking. 

“Gosh Bunny, are you alright?” 

“Yes”, he is talking in a pout, “they’re so in love. I’m so happy”, he whines and sobs, hugging your legs to hide away in them. 

“You’re the cutest”, you coo, ruffling his hair. 

“They’re so in love. I love this movie so much.”

“Me too, Bunny. It’s a very cute ending.”

“Yes. So cute.” He flips over, looking up at you sniffly and teary eyed. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bunny”, you say softly, wiping his tears. He always gets like this after a romantic movie. He cries in happiness, then needs to look at you and tell you his feelings. It is as if the love in the movie filled his heart with too many feelings of its own and the only remedy is the view of you. 

“I love you so much that, that if we were both bunnies and we were cuddling, I’d put one ear over you to keep you warm.”

Your heart flutters, bursting in giddiness. You let out a squeal of too much cuteness and drag him into a kiss by squishing both his cheeks. 

He stumbles to his knees, ending up on your lap soon after with his hands on the nape of your neck and his flushed cheeks under your fingertips. 

You always get like this after a romantic movie. He tells you cute things and you get so overwhelmed by them that you need to kiss him until his head is foggy and his lips are tender. You are starving and the only taste you crave is his kiss. 

The hunger was especially unbearable tonight. The silent understanding of the power dynamic added craving to the starvation. Oh, you cannot get enough of him. 

Your fingers, once tasked with cradling his face, fall to his dainty waist. Jungkook gasps, breaking the kiss with parted lips.

“You’re mine”, you lull the words, eyes still closed. He is wearing an oversized jumper but when you hold him like this, it exposes the real size of his waist. It makes you a little crazy.

“Yes, Mommy. I am”, he whimpers, squirming in your possessive touch. 

“I’ll make you mine even more with the ribbons.”

He giggles, nodding his head.

“Yes, Mommy. You can do whatever you want to.”

“What if I wanna keep going until you made a mess?”

Jungkook exhales shakily, nodding his head. 

“Please…”

“Yes? You’d want that?” 

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Fuck, Bunny. I don’t know if I can control myself any longer.”

Jungkook rolls his hips on your lap, sighing his words, “don’t control yourself please.”

“But I have to. You’re so soft, I’d only break you.” 

Jungkook exhales shakily, falling around your neck. Your words are so strong. Your voice does the rest. Jungkook with his obvious and immense voice kink is broken.

“Please Mommy, please don’t hold back please”, he begs.

“You’re lucky that you’re so cute”, you say and stand up with him in your arms. Jungkook wraps his legs around, moaning happily because he thinks that you will carry him to bed. 

You, however, set him down on the sofa, keeping his eyes on you by guiding his head. 

“Can you stay put for me?” 

“Yes, Mommy. I can”, Jungkook promises, nodding his head obediently.

“Good boy. Be patient, I’ll be back soon”, you tell him, giving him one last forehead kiss before you leave him to prepare everything.

You clean the coffee table of the dessert and disappear upstairs to get the ribbons, jogging down with them.

Jungkook stayed put the entire time, sitting up straight and with his eyes focused on the wall before him. He turned the television off.

“Look at you.”

His eyes are instantly on you. 

“You’re such a good boy. You stayed put.”

He exhales shakily, following you with his eyes as you return to him. You stand in front of him, combing your fingers through his hair. His eyes fall closed, his lips part. He lets out a quiet moan, sounding so sweet. 

“You’re so handsome”, you speak softly and will continue to do so for the rest of this moment. It feels right to do. It is such a comfortable and healing moment, which can only be enjoyed when whispered.

Jungkook is in heaven because of it. There is nothing more comforting to him than being spoken to softly. He feels so safe in your presence. So incredibly safe.

“Keep your head like this”, you order him and because Jungkook has no ounce of brattiness in his bones, he listens well.

“Good boy.”

Your praise makes his entire body tingle. It is the main reason why he could never disobey you. Why would he, if the reward for being good is your praise in your voice? 

His eyes are still closed which means that the sudden soft ribbon around his neck surprises him. He opens his eyes, coming face to face with your features as you tie a loose bow around his neck. His heart flutters.

You give the ribbon a gentle tug once tied, making him sigh in bliss and tilt his head back to reveal more of his adorned neck. 

“What a pretty little present you are”, you say, caressing his chin before you move on to another part of his body.

Jungkook feels so warm in his chest. He swears that he could touch the stars right now. He is yours and he is it gladly.

The next ribbon you wrap around his chest, ending it with a surprise kiss on his lips because the position allows it. Jungkook scrunches his entire face in giddiness, gazing at you as he giggles. 

You giggle with him, caressing his cheeks because he deserves it. 

“It’s funny. I’m calling you a present but I’m wrapping you up instead of unwrapping you.” 

“It’s so nice”, he sighs, kicking his feet. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty epic. Now next. Arms.” 

Jungkook shifts them into the correct position all on his own, earning himself yet another praise. And yet again, it leaves him tingly. 

You decorate his left arm first, then his right, ending it by giving his arms gentle rub downs. Jungkook shivers, flexing his muscles for you.

“So strong. Have you been increasing the weights?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“I can really tell. What a strong Bunny you are.”

“Thanks, Mommy”, Jungkook croaks, voice trembling. Is it possible to orgasm from too much praise? Because if he gets praised any more, he might actually cum. 

“Now, wrists.”

He presents them proudly, palms facing up and next to each other. It is a given that you have to kiss each of them. It would be a crime if you didn’t. 

Afterwards, you guide them together, tying a ribbon around them. You make sure that they wouldn’t pinch or cut off blood flow but still keep him in place, finishing it with a pretty bow. 

“Wow, look at you”, you have to squeak because the view of him makes you so giddy. 

Jungkook giggles and shimmies on the couch, kicking his feet. 

“You are so fucking adorable. Gosh”, you cradle his face. “I could eat you.” 

He smiles dreamily, leaning into your touch. He gets kissed on his forehead and feels eternal. He loves you so very much.

“Now stay like this. I need to take a video like she did”, you say and pick up your phone. You scroll on it with two hands, scrunching your brows. 

Jungkook has to giggle, gazing up at you.

“What?” 

“Nothing. It’s just, when you’re using your phone like this, you’re really channeling your Mommy energy. You look like you never used a phone before.”

“Wow, rude”, you laugh, nudging his cheek, “it’s not my fault that new technology uses such tiny fonts. Oh here, found you camera app.”

Jungkook snickers and shifts back into position. His heart is racing so much. You make him so happy. 

“Now look the prettiest for me”, you say and press record. 

Jungkook does his very, very best to pose for you. He keeps his back straight, his wrist presented, he gives you puppy eyes and even does a little lip bite. If you want him looking the prettiest for the cameras, then he will look the prettiest.

“Wow, look at you”, you gush, replaying the video, “you’re so handsome.”

“Can I see too, please?” 

“Of course. Look.” 

You show him the video. Jungkook watches intently, having to squirm on the sofa. The ribbons look so good on his body, he looks so owned. 

“Aren’t you adorable?” 

“Yeah”, he gets out shakily, biting his lower lip afterwards.

You watch it happening, feeling tingly. You put the phone aside and sit down next to him, patting your lap.

“Come here. I’ve got one more ribbon I want to put on you.” 

Jungkook gladly obeys, climbing on your lap in a way so that he was facing you. He squirms at the feeling of your touch on his body, trying his hardest not to moan. It would be so embarrassing if he already moaned before you even as much as played with his cock. 

Judging by the hungry glimmer in your eyes, this is exactly what you are planning to do. And Jungkook can barely breathe because of it. He misses your touch so much. 

“Lift your butt.” 

He obeys. You hook your fingers in his sweats and tug them over his perky butt. 

“Wait. I can help.” 

“Do it.”

Jungkook stands up for the time being, letting you undress him. He steps out of his sweats and later his briefs, then climbs back on your lap. His oversized jumper still adorns his torso, looking so pretty. 

You tug it from his cock, letting it pool behind it. He is already hard, throbbing when the fabric brushes his tip. 

"Aw, look at you. Is someone really needy for my touch?” 

“Yes, so needy. Please.” 

“Mhm, soon. Just gotta get you pretty for me.”

Jungkook giggles. You are wrapping the last ribbon around the base of his cock. You snicker because hearing him laugh makes you want to join him.

“How’s that for a last place?”

“Sexy…oh god, I can feel it aahmm.”

You give it a gentle tug, then finish it off with a bow. Jungkook definitely feels the pressure, but it isn’t as intense as a cockring would be. He likes it so much that he is biting his lower lip again, furrowing his brows. 

“How’s the pressure?”

“Good. Gentle.”

“That’s good. Let me know if it gets uncomfortable.”

“I will.” He squirms. “Please. Can you touch me?” 

“How can I refuse you when you’re so polite?” 

You close your hand around his adorned base and dance it up to his tip.

“Ah, Mommy”, Jungkook moans loudly, arching his back and throwing his head back. 

You watch his reaction with a tingling stomach, having to chuckle. Jungkook hears it, rolling his head to the front to look at you nervously. Your hand is around his tip, motionless and driving him insane.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks quietly.

“It’s just that I literally only put my hand around your cock and you’re already moaning so much. It’s adorable.”

“Mommy, don’t tease me please. I can’t help it”, he whines, pouting.

“Aw, I’m sorry Bunny. Here, let me make it up to you”, you say and finally pick up a rhythm.

“Woah”, Jungkook gasps, eyes widening and cock twitching between your fingers. Next he bites his lower lip - again - and mewls, furrowing his brows. Lastly, he arches his back and drops his head. His mouth opens, his high-pitched moans escape.

“So good. Such a good boy”, you rasp, hand moving around his cock in a constant rhythm. Slow and dragged out because you want him aware of every single movement. “You sound so sweet for me.”

“Feels….so….good….aaahmmm.”

“It does, Bunny. I love touching your cock. You’re so pretty and perfect.” 

He twitches each time you praise him, tip glistening between your fingertips and shaft pulsating needily. You want to be everywhere at the same time. It is so addicting to touch his cock.

“Oh god, it feels so good”, he croaks and throws his head back, dropping his tied up hands against your chest. He is clutching whatever small amount of fabric his constricted hands can grasp, moaning your nickname like it is all that he can do. 

“There we go, hold onto me. Good boy.”

“Please, seriously, please don’t stop”, he begs, legs tightened around your thighs.

“Mhm, you must feel so good right now”, you whisper mindlessly.

He nods his head vigorously, hips shaking on your lap. He moans just for you, delighting you even more. He does. He feels so good right now. So, so good. Nobody, not even himself, could touch him like you are able to.  

“Of course you do. It would be a shame if I just…” you trail off, removing your hand from his cock.

“No please”, he whines, rolling his head to the front. He gives you the most lethal puppy eyes, pouting. “Please, Mommy. I-I was a good boy.”

“Yeah, that’s true. You were.” 

“Please?” 

He is so adorable. Pink ribbons around his dainty wrists, his pretty hair a mess and drool covering his puffy lips. Your husband has never looked cuter before. You can’t say no to him. You just can’t.

“Put your arms behind my head.”

He obeys.

“Good boy, now let me taste your moans.”

Jungkook moans, leaning in to kiss you. He instantly uses tongue, moaning louder when you wrap your hand around his cock again to pump it. He throbs between your fingers, leaking all over them. 

You pick it up and use it to increase the speed of your touch. He was such a good boy tonight and you want to make him feel good. No more teasing, he is supposed to feel in heaven from now on. 

And you know that he does. He moans and whimpers, breaking the kiss every now and then when he needs to gasp for air or be a little louder. You talk sweet words to him whenever he has to, playing with his hair or rubbing circles into his neck. 

It isn’t long after that Jungkook can’t kiss you back anymore, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.

“Mommy please”, he sobs, convulsing on your lap. His entire weight is on you right now, also pressing on your chest because he is currently squeezing himself against you. 

His arms are restless, tensing and flexing as his shaky hands try to break free from their constraints. He could easily break free, but you ruined him enough that his muscles feel weak. 

“Do you like this?”

“Like it. Ah” he sobs, “ahmmmm Mommy��”

“My sweet Bunny. Lean into me, that’s good.”

“I have to…soon… please can I?”

“Yes, my baby, you can. Just let me do it for you. Make a mess for me, baby”, you encourage him, pumping his weeping tip. 

His veins are bulging by now, his base is stretching the ribbon. He is so restless on your lap that he constantly rubs his balls on you as well. It feels so good. Jungkook is entirely and utterly in your hands.

Quite literally. 

And it only takes him three mores strokes to make a total mess of them.

He squeaks, tenses up and then you feel it. Warm, messy cum shoots from his cock  covering your hand and parts of your bodies. He sobs your name when the shakes finally set in, holding you close as best as possible. 

“Good boy. Cum for me. Fuck, you’re such a good boy”, you talk him through it, keeping your touches focused on his tip because he is most sensitive there. 

Jungkook is able to handle nine pumps and then overstimulation sets in, instantly making him beg and whine. 

“Stop please. No more, please.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

“Thank you, Mommy. Thank you!” 

“There we go, good boy.” 

Now satisfied, you release him of his pleasurable hell. You keep the messy hand between his legs for now, hugging him with your other arm. 

And Jungkook falls into a trance of gratefulness, afterglow and adoration. He sighs and whimpers, gasps and sighs some more as his body recovers from the intense high.

“Thank you Mommy. I love you.” The two sentences repeat themselves, growing quieter and quieter the deeper he falls into the relaxing afterglow.

“You’re welcome, Bunny. I love you too”, you answer him every single time, feeling entirely content. Honestly, you could play with him for hours. Being with him like this, makes you so happy. 

It is Jungkook who breaks the cozy hug, running his eyes over your features. He is smiling with them, cheeks flushed and bangs sticking to his forehead. 

“I made a mess”, he confesses and snickers.

“You made a mess. A pretty big one actually. You really needed that orgasm, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I think I did. I feel so submissive tonight and so soft and then you dressed me up in the ribbons and praised me and yeah…” he grins goofily. “I love being your sub, Mommy.”

“And I love being your Domme, Bunnybaby.” 

“Can we do this again one day? Please? Oh, I feel so cozy right now”, he says and snuggles into you. “I don’t want to leave this space.”

“Of course we can do this again. Maybe I’ll tie you to something when we do.”

“Yes please. Please do this”, he sighs and melts into a total weak mess of limbs on your lap.

His heart is racing. You hold him close, snuggling your nose into the crook of his neck. He smells like a good orgasm and his floral shower gel. You love his scent. 

“My Bunny”, you whisper, melting into him as well.

Date day is going to be extra romantic tomorrow. After such a night, it will be difficult not to stick to him at all times.

[gumii-bearr]

okay but why do i feel like megumi — despite being the aloof number one hater of pda — gives off INSANE “wear what you want mama, i can fight” bf vibes?

he keeps it to himself, or so you think, cause he’s always lurking, watching every look anyone gives you, ready to jump and claim you and break some noses

just me? no…?

— yokai

SCARY DOG PRIVILEGE IM TELLING YOUUUUUU!!!!!!

YOU ARE SO FUCKING RIGHT ITS INSANE.

like i imagine you’re going out and god you look so hot in your black mini skirt and low cut top that makes your tits sit so pretty and megumi is foaming at the fucking mouth (tho he would never admit to it)

he’s so not the type to care what you wear because he knows he can fucking fight. well i shouldn’t say he doesn’t care what you wear, he absolutely does because you look so fucking HOT 🫡 manz is at attention just for you!!!

he’s always got a protective hand on your hip and maybe the tip of his index finger just slips below the hem of your mini skirt, just to give everyone else that subtle hint that you’re his

anyone ever caught gawking at your tits? ur scary dog privilege bf is resting his hand flat against your tummy and pulling you a little closer and staring fucking DAGGERS at whatever loser thinks he’s worthy of looking at you.

“you’ll let me wear this mini skirt, gumi?”

“you can wear whatever you want, baby”

“you won’t get jealous?”

“i can fight”

and he’s always lurking around, always has an eye on you even if you can’t see him. cus you look damn fine in your little outfits and he gets more enjoyment out of them than you do… especially when he’s pulling them off you the moment you get home teehee—

SAVE ME GUMI!!! SAVE MEEEEEE??!??!

[pennyold]

truck driver | d.s

Summary: alone with the car a mess and a truck driver letting her in, would it end well? pretty well.

Warnings: older!drew, age gap, swearing, humping, cum play, oral (male receiving), use of word “daddy”, no use of y/n (oc reader), plot then good sex. I think that's all, hehe.

a.n: first fic, so please don't be rude, if there are any grammatical mistakes, please let me know. Enjoy!!

w.c: 1.9k

peace and love, penny ︎︎︎★

So there I was, stuck in the middle of nowhere, with my car a mess. I started thinking of many ways to solve it, but I could not fix it anyway. I’m 6 hours away from home, and no one is willing to come and help me, I’m alone right now; fortunately, it is afternoon, and the sun is still shining barely. It was 6:40 pm when I got into the car looking for some things. I won’t stay here forever; with my stuff in hand, I recharged in the car. I put my thumb up when I saw a big truck, ignored. This is going to take so long.

The sun was almost hiding when a truck-long one finally gave me lights. He stopped by my side, and I turned by the driver’s side. “What happened to you, sweetheart?” shit, my tongue got stuck in my mouth, I didn’t know specifically, but he was not too old, with his hat backward and a little smirk “How can I help you?” watching that I didn’t say any word, he talked.

“Uh, yes, my car got stuck here, so I was wondering if you could drive me to the close motel here.” I bite my middle finger nail, anxious.

He nods “Of course I can, there’s one an hour, wanna get in?” I nod, then I check my car for one last time, and with all my things, I get in the truck, hopefully, large in the pilot and copilot place, and clean. Well, it is not that bad. With my thing in my lap, I watched the landscape while 90s rock music played at a very low volume.

“So,” he broke the silence, “what happened with your car?” he asked “The battery died.” I explained. “Mmh, there was no signal of that happening before?” he asked with a curious look. His eyes were blue, a dark blue. “No, sir.” “It may be a battery problem.” he says.

Oh, thanks for telling me I didn’t notice.

“I mean, comin’ from the company.” he knows what I think when my face is confused “I know my answer sounds stupid, but it can happen.”  “Yeah, sure.” Maybe I sound rude, but I was just exhausted, and I don’t want to talk, not right now.

After a while on the road, I opened my mouth. “How much rest?” I shyly grab my things hard, nervous. When I looked at him for a little second, he watched my move, he shut his eyes away and rapidly looked at me. “Not too much, a 40 min we are there, don’t worry. I promise.” he slightly smirk, and I saw some awkwardness on his face.

“Do you live here?” I asked, I’m feeling he’s giving the green signal. “Yeah, in the south, what about you?” I looked out the window, seeing the sun in the middle of the mountain. “A 6 hours away, to the north.” “Alright,” he nodded, then a little gas station with a market appeared “Do you need souvenirs?” “Oh, no, don’t worry,” I smile shyly, not to bother him, “I will come at midnight on my own”

“What are you sayin’? I said it cuz after would not be safe and worse if you go alone.” he denied it, and I disappointed him, good job. “It’s not safe out here, trust me when I say it. “Yes, sir.” “Do not call me ‘sir’, I’m not that old.” Then he looked at me. I feel guilty “It’s not in a bad way, I didn’t want to be rude to you.” “No, it’s fine, I get it, don’t worry. Can I call you by your name?” I smiled. “Call me Drew, what bout’ you, hon?” I feel a slight heat in my body with that nickname, shit. “Alisha or Ali, whatever, it’s good.” he smiled “Alright, Ali.” 

I turned my body to face him “If you are not too old, how old are you?” “42.” he says firmly “Well…” He interrupted me. “Damn it, kid, what’s young for you?” I slightly blink. “25, mostly in the 20s.” “How old are ya now?” he side-eyed me, still looking at the road. “22.” “Sure… you look like 19, kid.” he looked at me, not convinced by my age. “I can show you my driver’s license; I’m not playing.”

“Nah, I’m just messing with you.” he laughed “We arrived in 10 minutes, Do you want me to leave you in the reception while I park the truck, or you wanna wait for me?” “I’ll wait for you.” he nods “Alright, hon.” 

We arrived at the parking lot of the motel, graving all my stuff, we got out of the truck. He helped me to get down, I thanked him, and we started the walk through the motel. As we entered, a weird smell got into my nose, really bad. There was no one in the reception, so Drew knocked the bell that was just there. Minutes later, a lady came, which wasn’t very happy. “Hey, ma’am, two rooms, please.” she checked the notes in her book “Good, it’s gonna be 40 for the two.” I grabbed my wallet, taking out 20 dollars, when I was going to give it to the lady, Drew had already given her 40 dollars. “Here.” I gave him the 20 dollars, but he denied it “Drew, please.” he whispered “By my own, Hon, don’t worry. Keep it.”

I smiled at him. The lady gave each one their key, just 1 room separated us. I waved to him and wished him good night, leaving my stuff on the little couch, I went to the bathroom, my hair was so dirty and awful. After the quick shower, I put on a tight shirt, which was the only clean I had in my backpack, and a pair of sleepy shorts. My stomach started hurting, and I was starving, I took my wallet, locked the dorm, and after I started walking to the lobby, a voice echoed behind me. “Where are you going, sweetheart?” It was Drew, out of his dorm, smoking a cigarette. “To the lobby, there is a snack machine.” he stands up “I go with you,” he throws the cigarette, turning it off with his boot. I wait for him, who’s right by my side, as we walk by the lobby, I notice it's lonely in the lobby. “You want something, Drew?” “No, sweetheart, I’m fine.”

I nod, and I buy some cookies and drinks. Ignoring that, he told me he didn’t want anything I gave him a Pepsi cola. “Hon… I told you.” “It’s for the dorm.” He smiled and thanked me. Walking to the rooms and watching the food, I thought something. “Would you like to watch a movie? Still early.” With anxious feelings, I bite my lip button. “Sure, why not?” he smiled.

As we entered the room, I left the food on the table and turned the TV on. I started curious about the area of the TV, and I found a hidden fridge with some sodas and beers.

“Wanna?” I said as I showed him the beer. “Sure, bring it, hon.” Giving him the beer, I sat next to him on the little couch, not very comfy, but we could not be in the bed, right? Quitting that question, there is where we were, my hips rocking over his crotch. “Shit baby, you make me get so hard.” I moan, kissing him again. As he put his big hand over my hips, my pussy started pulsing for the stimulation. “Drew…” I moan. “I cannot, baby. I can’t fuck you.” he denied touching my back softly. “Please.” I look at him with lust, my body is demanding him inside me. “We can do another thing. You wanna try it?” I nod immediately “I need you to trust me. I would never try to hurt you, but if I do, just tell me, and I'll stop, alright?” I nod “I want you to be rough with me. I need it.” “Baby…” he whispered. “Please” I beg.

Slowly I get out of his legs, sliding my shorts out while I watch him wake up the bed and unbelting his pants, the singular sound of the belt clinking, my pussy got more wet. I showed him my bare legs wanting him to remove my panties; he understood, sliding his fingers around the sweet material of my panties, as he took it over, he looked at my now bare pussy exposed for him.

“Open those pretty legs, sweetheart, wanna see the pretty cunt you have” As he said, I opened slowly, feeling how my folds parted and the cold air conditioner slap my pussy “Jesus, what a pretty pussy, baby, are you going to let me take care of her?” I nod “Words, baby.” “Yes, Daddy.” I bite my bottom lip. “Fuck, turn around, now” 

As I did it, I heard how he slid his boxers down, and without advancing, his cock started to run over my folds. I moan, feeling his tip, trying to get insane out of my hole. “S-shit, drew, stop teasing.” “You are not into birth control, right?” I denied I don’t have an active sexual life; I only use condoms and after-day pills. “Sorry, hon, I wanted to fuck you, but we cannot” he rubs his cock again over my folds, my sticky arousal covering his hard cock, I moan feeling his chubby tip against my entrance. “Shit, Daddy, please” I move my hips backward, wanting more of the friction. “Am I your daddy, baby?” the rub of his cock got faster, and my pussy started clenching around nothing. “Y-yes, shit, I-I’m cumming” my legs shaking and my hands gracing the sheets harder. “Cum baby, let that sticky cum cover my cock” his body fell slowly over my back, then I felt his mouth close to my ear. “Then you are going to suck it till I cum, alright, baby?” “Yes, Daddy, I will.” I barely say, feeling my high, I cum, moaning uncontrollably, shaking my legs like a weak doll. 

“On your knees.” recuperating the control of my legs, I get on my knees in front of him. I look at him, then I grab his hard cock, veined and the tip red and so chubby like I feel it. “Open your mouth with your tongue out.”  I did it as he said it, his tip over my tongue, slapping in, then he told me to suck it, putting my tongue under his cock and sucking it all. Shit, my pussy started pulsing over the feeling of his tip hitting my throat too deep, he’s big. I suck him slowly, tasting all of my cum. “Yeah baby… feel all your cum” he groaned, bringing his head back, he grabbed my hair starting to fuck my mouth, he’s so close, I could feel his cock twitching inside my mouth “Fuck, hon, I’m gonna cum” fucking my mouth he pulls it out, and his sticky fluids spank over my face, breast and some on the floor. As he released himself, he watched the cum over my face. “Shit baby, I’m sorry.” Desperately look for a towel and clean my face and breasts.

“Did it get inside your eye?” I denied. “Come, let me take you to the shower.” I pull him back, whispering in his ear that my pussy still wants attention. “Oh, sweetheart, want to be fucked? That’s what she’s going to get.”

divider: @/enchanthings-a

[nomie-11]

Vi x Reader - Red Lipstick Stains

masterlist!

Vi knew she shouldn’t bother you when you were getting ready in the morning. 

You liked your space before you left for work or whatever errands you had to run for the day, and she knew that, but the red lipstick you wore drove her crazy. 

Leaning on the doorframe of the tiny bathroom the two of you shared in a small but cozy apartment in Zaun, Vi resolved to just watch you expertly swipe the dark red lipstick across your upper lip, then your lower lip, before dragging your nail underneath your lip line to clean the edge. 

God, it made her pulse race. She wanted nothing more than to ruin your pretty lipstick. She hated the fact that you had actual shifts at your job—even if she was grateful that you were just a bartender (at her dad’s bar no less, thank you Vander)—because that meant you had a stable job and didn’t need to fight in the pits like she did. It also meant you had to get to work on time. 

But Vi had never been good at resisting temptation, especially when it came to you. 

“That color looks dangerous,” she teased, her voice low and gravelly as she stepped into the bathroom, crowding you against the sink. Her hands found their familiar place at your waist, her fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of your  shirt. “Almost as dangerous as the person wearing it.”

You rolled your eyes at her in the mirror, though the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. “Vi, I don’t have time for this. My shift starts in twenty minutes.”

“Then you shouldn’t look so damn good,” she muttered, kissing the edge of your jaw, her lips brushing against the skin just below your carefully applied lipstick. “Makes it impossible for me to let you leave without getting a proper goodbye.” 

Her lips trailed lower, finding the spot just beneath your ear that always made you shiver. You tried to fight it, you really did, but the soft hitch of your breath gave you away. Vi grinned against your skin, clearly pleased with herself. 

“Vi,” you warned, though your voice lacked any real conviction. “I’m serious. I can’t be late again or Vander’s going to have my head.” 

She hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t move away. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, her pink hair brushing against your cheek as she murmured into your ear; “Vander’ll understand. I’ll tell him I couldn’t let you leave looking this good without leaving my mark first.” 

You barely had time to process her words before she pressed her lips to yours. The kiss was fervent, claiming, and utterly unapologetic. You could feel the smudge of your lipstick mixing between you, and you knew without a doubt that it was ruined. But in that moment, with Vi’s hands tightening on your waist and her lips making you forget about everything else, you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. 

Her lips trailed down, teeth grazing the lower edge of your jaw as a soft sigh escaped past your lips. “Vi—” you mumbled. “Are you really going to call Vander again and tell him I’m sick?”

“Mhm,” she breathed, her words hot against the curve of your neck. “I’m gonna call him and tell him you’re sick for the next two weeks, and he’s just going to have to deal with it.” Vi chuckled against your skin, her lips forming a grin that you could practically feel. “Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know what’s going on. The old man’s sharp. He probably already expects it.”

You groaned, half in frustration and half in surrender, as your hands moved to her shoulders, attempting to push her away—not that you were trying very hard. “He thinks I’m pregnant—won’t let me near a drop of alcohol.”

At that, Vi snorted, her lips moving upwards once more to kiss you again, lipstick now trailing from your lips to the curve of your bare shoulders and even on the strap of your black tank top. “Maybe we should try, give him what he wants.” 

You smiled into her kiss, your tongue tracing the plush skin of her lower lip. “We’re lesbians, love.” You broke away, tilting your head to take a glance at the damage in the mirror. “And I really have to go to work, so you need to let me get this lipstick off of my entire neck.” 

“Aw, no…” She whined, but still let you grab a makeup wipe and remove the stains of your red lipstick. When you were finished cleaning up, she reluctantly handed you your tube of lipstick and watched as you applied it once more, sending her a wink in the mirror. 

You capped the lipstick with a satisfying click and turned to face Vi, giving her an exaggerated look of mock sternness. “Alright, I’m officially running late now, and if Vander asks why, I’m telling him it’s because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

Vi smirked, leaning lazily against the doorframe once more, her eyes never leaving yours. “He’ll just say, ‘That’s my girl,’ and send you on your way.” She crossed her arms, looking far too smug for her own good. “You know he likes me.” 

“Only because he has to,” you shot back, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. You moved toward the door, but not before stopping in front of her. “And Vi, please…” you hesitated, your voice softening as your eyes met hers. “Don’t be too reckless in your matches tonight, okay? I need you coming home to me in one piece.” 

Vi’s smirk faltered just slightly, her expression softening. “You know me, babe. I’ll be fine.” 

You gave her a pointed look. “That’s what worries me.” 

She chuckled, stepping forward to cup your face gently in her calloused hands. “I promise,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “I’ll be careful.” 

Satisfied for the moment, you gave her a small smile and turned to leabe. But just as your hand reached the doorknob, Vi tugged you back by the wrist. Before you could protest, she kissed you one last time—a deep, lingering kiss that left your heart racing all over again. 

When she pulled away, her lips were curled in that same mischievous grin you knew all too well. “Whoops, guess I smudged it again,” she teased, brushing her thumb over the faint smear of red that had messed up the outline of your perfect lips. 

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you wiped at your lips with the back of your hand. “You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head as you finally made your way out the door. 

“I love you!” she called after you, her voice echoing through the hallway. 

You couldn’t help but grin as you turned the corner, muttering to yourself, “I love you too, idiot.” 

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[cyber333angel]

Hey there cutie I’m wondering if you could write a Abby taking readers virginity blurb or head cannons or whatever I love your writing and how you write her💗💗💗

DRINK WATER

abby herself wouldn’t be a virgin she’s actually quite experienced but it would be her first time strapping someone and she was definitely hooked when the two of you did it.

you would have begged her to go further than just her fingers and her mouth, being so happy when she gives in and tries to make it a special experience for you. getting all the things that were needed ready for you on the bed. abby would take it reeeally slow, like fingering you and eating you out while you whine about wanting her to put it in. the strap would already be on her waist while she’s eating you out in fact it’s the reason why your so impatient, you can see what you want but abby won’t let you have it until she thinks your ready.

she just teases you, sucking on your nipples that are spilled out of your bra, her thick fingers in your cunt spreading you out while she whispers to you. “ abs just put it in already! please..” your hips are squirming under her as she smiles, “put what in baby?” grinning at you like it’s funny and laughing when you start to pout. “don’t tease..” while she entertains you she places your legs on her shoulders, sliding her fingers sensually up your thighs while she prods the silicone against your cunt. “mm’please abs..” you say reaching for her arm or anything to get her to stop the ache between your legs.

“i know sweet girl, gonna give you what you want.” spreading you apart more to let a glob of spit roll down your pussy, connecting at the spot where her dick is kissing your messy entrance. she places her large hand on the pudge of your tummy looking at you with reassurance, “you ready?” and she knows your ready, more than ready she just loves to see you beg. “yes! abby I need you..” your impatient. lowering your hips down closer to her dick until the tip of her stretches out your hole, mewling at your girlfriend with the cutest face as your eyes squeeze shut. “your such a needy baby.” she says with a chuckle, pushing the rest of her length into your pussy with the tone of her soft voice, “shhh oh I know princess, feels good huh? takin all of me first try my good girl.”

somehow, the sympathetic praise made it so much easier to take the current 5 inches you were being given, another 3 to go with you already losing your mind spread out in the bed. it didn’t take long for you to be on the verge of cumming, the way abby flowed her hips against yours and hit those sweet spots she usually finds with her tongue, you were already familiarized with this saccharine pleasure.“oh abby..mn think im gonna c-cum!” your sweaty skin slapping against each other doesn’t slow down as abby rubs your cheek with one gentle hand, other hand still placed on your hip for control. “yeah baby? cum for me, look so pretty with you nice nd full of me.”

it’s like her words were a command, abby only having to thrust into you roughly a few more times to make you cum, with the help of her fingers rubbing at your clit. “that’s it, atta girl..” moving her digits in a circular motion that she always does has you creaming on her cock, a ring almost at the base of it where it shows how much you took. “feels so’good abs!” you cry and she nods, kissing the crook of your neck and working her way up to your face. “can see that you love it pretty girl, legs are shaking like crazy.” making you both break out in laughter.

your first time with abby was so sweet and gentle, it felt so natural between the two of you and she never rushed you into anything too intense that she thought you couldn’t handle. and when she pulled the strap out of you, you could see how much of it you actually took and it wasn’t all of it so she told you while you were laying in bed with the snack she gave you and the blanket she rolled you in that, “we’ll have to train you to get all the way to the bottom next time huh?” sigh >.<

[bunnithechubs]

looks like i'm about to change your life.

transcript:

W: I will show you to your table, Mr. SIlas. V: Thank you, so sorry for being late. W: It is no problem. R: So what is this place? V: It’s called Tower, been here once with my dad. I think you’ll like it. R: You’ve never brought another girl here? V: Never. Just pops and now you. I plan on bringing you to a lot of nice spots in the city.

R: That’s if I let you. V: leans in and whispers I think after our little delay in your apartment, you’ll be letting me see you more. R: Just because I let you make out with me doesn’t mean I like you enough for a second date, let alone a third. V: I’m taking you on more dates. R: What if I want to date someone else? V: I can fight. R: You’d fight someone I went on a date with? V: I’d fight any man for you.

R: You really got us a private room? V: I wanted privacy with you. Sometimes the fans like to overstep. R: I don’t mind. V: I figured you wouldn’t but I’m focused on enjoying dinner with you. See anything you like? R: Oh, I’m order the most expensive thing on here. V: chuckles Trying to run my pockets dry, huh? R: Dating me isn’t for the faint hearted.

V: So you admit it, we’re dating. R: Are we not on a date? V: There is a difference between dating and being on a date. There’s a certain exclusivity with dating. R: According to the tabloids you’re not into exclusivity. V: I’m not, but for you? I want you all to myself. R: Do you think I believe that? V: No, but I plan on proving it. I’ll do whatever you want to me, destroy me if you like. As long as your mine.

R: Well if you’re going to date me I need a few things from you. V: Name them. R: Your location at all times, social media, and bank accounts. V: Done. I’ll even throw in the cameras at my apartment. R: I won’t look at them, but if you give me reason to and I find something I don’t like I will make your life a living hell. Understood? V: Completely. R: That’s it? You’re not going to ask for anything?

V: Nope, I just want you to be my girlfriend. R: You’re not worried I would cheat on you? I mean my dms are like a warzone of thirsty richer men. V: Are you letting any of them take you on dates? R: No. V: Then we’re good. Trust me, you won’t be thinking of them any more. I plan on keeping you completely satisfied. R: I look forward to that. V: Let’s eat- I want to show you somewhere before we go.

R: This is nice. V: You’re not too cold being out here? I can give you my jacket. R: The champagne has me pretty warm. I’ll let you know if that changes. V: Alright, you know in any light you look beautiful but right now I think you might be the most beautiful person in the world. R: Ass kissing doesn’t win me over. V: I’m not ass kissing, I’m telling you the truth. R: I think you’re drunk.

V: Not even the slightest bit tipsy. R: So you’re naturally a sweet talker, better watch your mouth when I’m not around. V: You do know I work with only men? R: You act like you don’t go out. V: I’m only going out with you or if you let me. R: I won’t be letting you go out without me. V: I wasn’t planning on it.

R: I want you take me home now. V: Your wish is my command.

V: I’m guessing I did a good job tonight then, huh? A nice dinner and even got you to admit we’re dating? R: You did better than expected- yes. V: So are you going to follow through with your comment from earlier? R: Letting you find out what’s underneath my dress? I think you can figure it out. I’m not wearing anything.

V: You’re killing me, Reina. R: Don’t worry I make good on my word. You get the gift of tasting me- but that's all. Your pants stay on. Got it? V: Whatever you say, Reina. R: Good, now help me out of this dress. V: Happily.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter eight when some clout chaser claims to be the mystery girl in the photo, Hiori shuts down the rumors and teases about the girl who truly has his heart blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains fluff, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader masterlist

The speculations about Hiori’s mystery girl are definitely one of the highlights of his career.

Ironically, he finds it funny how people react to it. He’s already been scolded by both the team manager and the marketing manager, each lecturing him about how careless he’s been. It’s not like there’s anything inherently wrong with dating, especially as an athlete. Though it seems like he was scolded for not giving them a heads up and keeping it a secret. 

His parents, on the other hand, are pretty much predictable. His dad stays quiet about these sorts of things, but his mom? She makes it a huge deal. Despite their issues, she still showers him with love and attention in her own overbearing, only-child-parent way. She’s adamant that he’s been hiding the girl from her because he’s embarrassed or something.

Not to mention, his friends and teammates. His Bastard Munchen teammates—not exactly the epitome of calm, cool and connectedness as how they would look.

The moment he arrived into a field for training, Isagi sprints at him at high speed, like golden retriever finally seeing its best friend. Igaguri and Raichi moan about how unfair it is for Hiori to get a girlfriend before them. The older members, Geisner, Bachs and even Ndiaye praised him as if he scored a goal.

Even Noa himself gives him an approving nod, “at least we know you’re normal-er than the rest of these football heads.”

Again, a wild reaction from everyone.

Sure, he’s not the only eligible bachelor in the field, nay, in his team who have been elusive or secretive about their relationships. But sports gossip writers love to eat up news like this. Like vultures circling around a carcass, the media (even fans) are waiting to pounce on him any moment. 

“Who’s the girl you were caught kissing at the JFA party?”

“Do you finally have a girlfriend?”

“Is your girlfriend a celebrity?”

It’s the same old question every single time. And for Hiori, it gets tiring. He should be answering questions about the game, the team’s performance and plans ahead this season. People are too hung up on who’s his “flavor of the month”, as if he’s Oliver freaking Aiku.

But he knows how to play the game. It’s just like playing a visual novel. His answers already predetermined, all of them would either deflect or shut down the whole topic all together. 

“I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“Are ya sure that’s me? Doesn’t look like me?”

“Looks edited though, don’tcha think?”

Like he promised you, he won’t disclose anything to the media or anyone else. Not that he’s the type to kiss and tell. But he won’t confirm or deny it either. He finds it fun to watch people squirm, teetering on the edge of curiosity and frustration. 

Plus, he values his privacy. That’s how it’s always been, and it’s how it always will be. 

Still, beneath his calm demeanor, Hiori worries he might fumble this. He likes you—really likes you. Enough to avoid making mistakes that might scare you off.

Fine, he likes you a lot. More than he thinks you even realize. 

In the months before you started dating, he found himself looking forward to every conversation with you, whether it was online or during work. He’d take whatever crumbs he could get, so to speak.

That’s why he got so frustrated when you started showing up way less for interviews. He understood it was just part of your job, something entirely out of his control. But when you got reassigned to other teams, it did threaten him. 

You were a natural at what you did—fun, easygoing, and effortlessly charming. No wonder he felt at ease with you from the get go. So it was just a matter of time till others saw you the way he did. 

Athletes like them are human after all. 

When Nagi—and, surprisingly, Reo—tried to squeeze into the picture, that did it for him. He hated how it felt, the simmering jealousy that crept in every time he saw them be all chummy with you. No amount of goals scored against Manshine City could ease the sinking feeling of losing you to one of them. Or, worse, both of them.

Hiori never thought of himself as the jealous type. But now he knows better. He despises the feeling. The tightness in his chest, the restless nights replaying imagined scenarios. Yet, there’s also a quiet satisfaction now. You chose him. 

Not publicly known, not splashed across headlines. But still, you’re his. If he gets jealous, he knows he’s not overreacting.

“I know who she is!” Isagi sing-songs, jogging over to the bench.

Hiori offers him a water bottle, cocking an eyebrow. “Whatcha mean?”

Isagi displays a shit eating grin, practically glowing with mischief. “I know who the girl is. Ness knows, too.”

Ness, approaching from behind, offers a polite smile—a polite smile that makes Hiori’s stomach drop.

“Nah, ya don’t,” Hiori says, chuckling nervously.

“We do,” Isagi insists.

“Ya don’t,” Hiori repeats.

“Well, we do,” Ness interjects smoothly. “Reo told us about how you cockblocked him and Nagi at the party.”

Hiori freezes, sweat beading on his forehead. “What?”

“You guys weren’t exactly subtle when you bailed,” Isagi adds, his shit-eating grin growing wider. “Miss Journalist seems to be really into y—what the hell, Hiori!”

A towel smacks Isagi square in the face. “Shaddap!” Hiori hisses, putting a finger to his lips.

Ness snickers, and Isagi pulls the towel off, laughing. “Alright, fine, ya got me. But can ya two keep it down? We just started dating,” Hiori mutters, massaging his temples.

“Relax, I’m not gonna spill,” Ness says with a wave of his hand but he gives a small smile, amused by Hiori’s reactions.

“Gotcha,” Isagi says, mock-saluting. “But, man, I didn’t know you had that kind of ‘HioRizz.’”

Hiori groans, glaring at Isagi. “I swear to God, if ya don’t shut up, I’ll leave ya out of every pass next game.”

Ness bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry, Isagi. I’ll pass to you.”

“Hiori has more rizz than Yukimiya! I should take notes!” Isagi jokes, only for Hiori to smack him on the arm before chasing him down the field.

Despite the chaos, Hiori can’t help but feel a warm sense of pride. These guys might be loud and annoying, but they’re also the ones he trusts most. And in a way, it feels nice to share this secret with them—a small piece of his happiness.

Because you’re his. And he’s yours. And to Hiori, that means everything.

“So… you’re telling me this is you?” Your roommate, Miko, thrusts her phone in your direction, her finger pointing dramatically at the paparazzi photo of you and Hiori plastered on her screen.

It’s only been a week since the photo started making rounds online, but you’ve been caught staring at it one too many times by Miko, your eagle-eyed, ever-curious roommate. Today, you finally caved. The whirlwind of emotions bubbling inside was too much to handle alone.

And now, you just had to tell her because things are driving you crazy at this point. 

“Yup.” The two of you are sitting side by side on the couch. She grills you with her own paparazzi-like questions while you sink in further the couch, the unfinished article on the laptop you’ve been drafting long forgotten at this point.

Miko squints at you, her head tilting as she studies the image like a detective analyzing evidence. Her brow furrows, and then, as if struck by a sudden epiphany, she gasps.

She springs up from her seat, pointing at your face accusingly. “Aha! Is this the guy you—" she gestures vaguely but suggestively with her hand, “—you know, slept with after that work party?”

“Yes, it’s him. No, we didn’t ‘sleep’ together.” You can’t help but laugh as you swat her finger away. “We shared the same bed, yes. But nothing happened.”

Miko raises an incredulous eyebrow. “Sure, sure. A pretty girl like you, and he didn’t try anything? In this economy?” She blows a dramatic raspberry and plops back against the couch, clearly unimpressed.

Your cheeks burn, recounting the night you spent with Hiori. It was intimate—sweet and wholesome in a way that still made your chest flutter when you thought about it. The kisses, his touches. It only makes you yearn for it more.

The morning after was even better. You spending a whole Saturday with him was like magic. 

She idly giggles to herself as she scrolls more on her phone, probably to stalk Hiori. The girl is chronically online so her stalking (research skills as she calls it) skills are on par with yours. She could be a damn good journalist if she wants to. 

“You’re such a perv, Miko,” you say, swatting her with a throw pillow.

“Says the girl who drools on this guy's sweaty photos,” she shoots back, laughing as she scrolls furiously on her phone. “Wait a minute—oh, damn. This guy’s a big deal. National team and Bastard München? He’s a whole package!”

You glance over her shoulder, smiling despite yourself. At 26, Hiori’s resume is nothing short of legendary. Back when you were just another journalist in the crowd, you’d been blown away by his talent. It was his brilliance on the field that inspired you to write that first viral article—the one that caught his eye.

Even now, it feels surreal. How did you go from admiring him from afar to… this?

“And you’re okay with not going public?” Miko asks, her tone softer this time. Her eyes flick briefly to you, filled with concern. She’s seen you through your fair share of bad relationships—flings that went nowhere and heartbreaks that left their marks.

“Yeah,” you answer, though there’s a hesitation in your voice. “Honestly, I’m kind of relieved. I don’t even want to imagine how people would react if they knew I was just… me. An ordinary nobody.”

Miko slams her phone down dramatically. “First of all, you’re not a nobody. You’re the girl who single-handedly brought Bastard München back into the spotlight. You’re the one who made everyone see their worth when they were tanking. You’re that bitch.”

You can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, leaning into the side hug she gives you.

“But seriously,” you admit, letting out a long sigh, “it feels unreal. Like… we’re from completely different worlds. If this got out, I don’t think I’d be ready for the fallout. People would rip me apart.”

Miko frowns but says nothing, letting you pass her your phone. Together, you scroll through the endless speculation about Hiori’s mystery girl. Post after post describes someone glamorous and unattainable—completely unlike you.

“That’s ridiculous,” Miko says, her voice dripping with disdain. But before you can reply, she suddenly gasps so loudly that you nearly drop your phone.

“What now?” you ask, startled.

She shoves her phone into your hands, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and fury. On the screen is a video of a rising sports influencer, her perfectly curated appearance making her look every bit the part of someone destined for the spotlight.

The interviewer’s voice is casual, almost playful. “So, you attended the recent JFA party?”

The influencer smiles coyly, a soft, practiced laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, of course. I was there.”

You can feel the tension building as the interviewer leans in slightly, their tone dropping to something conspiratorial. “And… given your connections to Bastard München and your shared sponsor, you must know Hiori Yo?”

The influencer’s eyes sparkle, and she lets out a delighted giggle. “Well, who doesn’t know Hiori? He’s incredible—on and off the field.”

Pfft. As if she knows anything about Hiori and his brilliance.

“So… are you the girl Hiori Yo was caught kissing that night?” Your stomach twists as the interviewer delivers the bombshell, their voice taking on an almost teasing quality.

The influencer doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering as if to draw attention to the gesture. Then she twirls a lock of hair, her eyes flitting away from the camera for just a moment before returning with a mischievous glint.

“Well… isn’t that for everyone to wonder?” she says, her lips curving into a playful smirk. The answer is deliberately vague, but the mischievous glint in her eyes speaks volumes, leaving just enough room for everyone’s imagination to run wild.

Miko explodes. “The audacity!” she practically shouts, throwing her hands in the air. “What is wrong with her? She’s milking this for clout! And the interviewer—ugh!”

You can’t even respond. Your gaze is glued to the screen, your chest tightening with every second of the video. The influencer’s words replay in your head, her casual demeanor and sly smile feeding into the storm of doubts you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Miko’s rant continues unabated. “She didn’t even deny it! She knows exactly what she’s doing. God, people like her make me so mad.” She paces the room, her gestures wild and exaggerated, but you barely register her words.

Your stomach churns as you scroll through the comments beneath the video.

she’s stunning—definitely Hiori’s type. this makes so much sense they’d look so good together

Each comment feels like a jab, their assumptions cutting deeper than you thought possible. The image of you and Hiori, so ordinary and imperfect in comparison, flashes in your mind.

You glance down at yourself: wearing your favorite but worn-out pajamas, the fabric soft from too many washes. Your hair is in a messy bun, a few strands rebelliously sticking out. You’re comfortable, sure, but the reflection from the phone staring back feels painfully ordinary.

The woman in the video, with her flawless hair and perfectly styled outfit, radiates a charisma that seems effortless. She looks like someone who commands attention the moment she steps into a room, someone whose beauty turns heads without trying. 

Normally, you wouldn’t care about looking “normal.” Most days, you’re content in your own skin, finding beauty in your own way. But this? This moment makes you feel like just another face in the crowd. No striking features, no captivating allure. Just plain, unremarkable. And right now, “normal” feels less like a badge of self-acceptance and more like a curse.

Miko stops mid-rant when she notices the look on your face. “Hey, don’t let this get to you,” she says, her voice softening. She sits back down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “People love drama, and she’s giving it to them.”

“But what if people believe her?” you ask quietly, the vulnerability in your voice startling even yourself. “What if they think she’s better for him?”

She shakes her head firmly. “You can’t let strangers decide what’s best for him or for you. Hiori chose you, not some influencer fishing for likes. That says more than any of this nonsense ever could.”

You nod slowly, though the unease lingers. Deep down, you know she’s right. But as you hand her phone back, the thought persists: How long before the world finds out—and what happens when they do?

You spend the next weekend with Hiori at his apartment. Again. 

This routine has become a comforting tradition. Every Friday after work, you and Hiori grab dinner, sharing stories about your day. By the time the last train rolls in, you’re on your way to his apartment, lugging a slightly larger backpack than usual. Inside are the essentials: a change of clothes, skincare, and personal items, neatly packed alongside your work things.

It’s mundane yet romantic, this little ritual you’ve built together. Friday nights are reserved for catching up, sharing laughter, and exchanging updates about work and personal lives.

During one of these chats, he casually mentioned that Isagi and Ness know about the two of you now. You shared that Miko, your closest friend and roommate, knows too. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the video. Not yet.

That Friday night, you binge-watch movies. This time, some of his favorites, including SPEC. It’s endearing to see him so animated as he talks about what he loves, his passion stretching beyond football.

Curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over you, everything feels natural. His arm rests over your shoulders, pulling you close as you melt into his side. Occasionally, he leans in to kiss you—your knuckles, your cheek, the top of your head—absentmindedly, his eyes never leaving the screen. The faint scent of his body wash lingers in the air, grounding you in this moment, so intimate yet exhilarating.

By the time the third movie ends, you’re both ready to tuck in for the night. As you drift off in his arms, the comfort and warmth feel whole, complete.

You always wake up earlier than him. It’s a small, heartwarming detail you love about these mornings. He even got you your own coffee mug. A matching set of Nier Automata ones for both of you. With coffee in hand, you lounge in the living room, flipping through a book while the quiet hum of his apartment surrounds you.

Later, you make brunch together, settling into the kind of domesticity that makes your heart flutter. Saturdays with Hiori are always this way—unhurried and easy. You both slip into a rhythm that feels like second nature, each finding comfort in the other's presence.

When he’s gaming on his PC, you’re nearby doing some light work on your laptop, occasionally glancing up to watch his focus. When he switches to his PS5, you curl up beside him on the couch, yapping about the book or manga you’re reading as your fingers absentmindedly play with his hair. He listens quietly, humming in acknowledgment now and then, his contentment reflected in the small smile that lingers on his face.

It’s the kind of quiet companionship that makes everything feel right—as if the two of you were meant to exist in this peaceful harmony.

But this time, something disrupts the vibe.

Standing by the sink, phone in hand, your brow furrows as the video plays again. It’s the same one. The influencer, the coy smile, the teasing comments. You try to push it aside, but the weight of it lingers.

“Hey, you okay?” Hiori’s voice startles you. He’s slipped behind you, his hands resting gently on your waist as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“God, Hiori, you scared me!” You fumble with your phone, but instead of turning it off, the volume spikes, making you jump. Flustered, you quickly lower it.

“What was that?” he asks, noticing the unease in your expression.

You hesitate but eventually lead him to the couch, where you show him the video. As he watches, you fidget, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap.

“I just… it’s been bothering me,” you admit finally, your voice trembling. “Even though we’ve been dating for a few weeks now, I can’t shake this feeling that our worlds are too different. It’s pathetic that I let it bother me.”

Before he can respond, you continue, a weak laugh escaping you. “I know we’ve talked about this, but… it just gets to me sometimes.”

Hiori pauses, then gently pulls you into his arms. “Hey, s’fine. I understand. Don’t worry about them, ‘kay?” His voice is soft but steady, grounding you.

You feel his sincerity, but the nagging fear remains. “I don’t want to scare you with these feelings,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“And I wantcha ya to know ya won’t scare me. Ever.” He tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help ease yer mind?”

You shake your head, smiling faintly. “Just this… spending time with you like this, it’s enough for me.” But then, gathering your courage, you add, “Actually… I was wondering if I could take you out. On a proper date. Something special. Just the two of us.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but his smile grows almost immediately. “You’re asking me out, huh?” He chuckles, leaning in to kiss on the lips. “Of course. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.”

And for the first time in days, the weight in your chest feels a little lighter.

When midweek rolls in, you know you'll be too preoccupied since it always comes with an avalanche of tasks, and today is no different.

You're neck-deep in work, juggling content planning for upcoming videos and articles while checking in with interns you’re supervising. They're compiling research on volleyball, basketball, and surprisingly, esports, which they’ve informed you is “the next big thing.”

You slump back in your chair, fingers aching from typing, and let out a long exhale. Cracking your knuckles, you reach for your coffee, savoring the warmth as it spreads through you. It’s moments like this when caffeine feels less like a drink and more like a lifeline for your overworked soul.

Your phone buzzes on the desk, lighting up with a notification. It’s a message from Hiori.

Oooh, a Hiori pick-me-up, you think, already feeling a smile creep onto your face. Just what you need to get through this impending burnout.

The message is short:

hiori: watch fer a surprise

Attached is a link. Intrigued, you click it, and a video opens.

It’s a recent press interview featuring Hiori. He looks effortlessly charming in a black hoodie, his hair perfectly tousled in that way that reminds you of lazy weekends spent curled up on his couch. You remember him mentioning this event last weekend, but seeing him on screen still catches you off guard.

The interviewer’s question catches your attention: “So, Hiori, there’s been a lot of buzz about you and a certain sports influencer lately. Any truth to those rumors?”

Your chest tightens slightly at the mention.

Hiori tilts his head, his expression as calm and composed as ever. “Sorry, who?” he replies, his tone laced with subtle mischief. “Oh, you mean the one who has the same sponsor with our team?”

Ness, seated beside him, nudges him gently, a silent reminder to tread carefully.

The interviewer presses on. “Yes. Rumors are that she's the mystery girl you're dating. Is she?”

Hiori chuckles lightly, dismissing the question with his usual nonchalance. “Nope, not at all. We’ve never even talked to each other.”

And then, just when you think he’s moved on, he adds, “Besides, I like my girl who’s a little nerdy, enjoys the same things I do outside of football, and, oh yeah—she talks a lot.”

Your breath catches.

The comments section beneath the video is already buzzing. Fans are losing it over his indirect confirmation of the photo rumors.

did he just confirm he's taken? he’s confirming without really confirming it! whoever the mystery girl is, she’s lucky af. i will crawl in a hole and cry

But you’re not focused on them.

Hiori’s words replay in your mind, each one feeling like it was chosen just for you. He didn’t name names, but the teasing specificity left no doubt in your heart. This was his way of sharing a piece of his life with the world—without giving too much away.

Your shoulders relax as the video ends, warmth spreading through you.

Another message pops up on your screen.

hiori: would you mind writing an article about how yer favorite football player, Hiori Yo, is no longer single? hiori: also, I can’t wait to see where yer taking me fer our date. 😉

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his playful tone.

Oh, this man.

The stress of the day doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. With Hiori’s teasing yet heartfelt reminder of how much you mean to him, you feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

amari's notes: i just finished writing this last night, sorry it took so long! i got sick for some reason and still recovering from it. made the bf read this and pointed out that journalist is not my self-insert, the roommate is my self-insert. she is so me lol. also, happy new year to all my hiori loving people! anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (if you wanna join the taglist, just comment or send me a message!)

taglist: @inu1gf @pookalicious-hq @dontmindtheevie @wannabepoeticischiya

[geneviveleocardius]

i don’t know if you’re accepting requests, but i thought id throw my hat in the ring 🫣 possessive!konig who realizes that you get flustered when he says certain things (in his accent or in german) and uses that to his advantage when yall are getting down? he’s my nasty husband and i need him

sureeee, here you go sweetheart

you don’t know how it started—maybe it was the way könig would sometimes switch to german when he got too worked up, his words low and sharp like he was losing the grip on his self-control. or maybe it was just his accent, curling around certain phrases that had your heart racing. whatever it was, könig noticed. and now, he won’t stop using it against you.

“look at you,” he murmurs one night, his voice rich with that heavy drawl. “so pretty like this.” the words make your stomach flip, his accent clinging to every syllable. he knows exactly what he’s doing, watching the way your breath hitches, how your hands twist in the sheets like you’re trying to ground yourself.

then he leans down, close enough that you can feel his breath ghosting over your ear. and it’s not fair, the way he switches to german—words you don’t fully understand, but the tone of them has heat pooling low in your stomach.

“schatz,” he says, soft and deliberate, dragging out the syllable. “du bist so süß, wenn du dich so bewegst.” ‘you’re so cute when you move like that’

you can’t help it, your hips buck up instinctively, and he chuckles—low and dark, almost smug.

“ah, you like that, don’t you?” his voice is teasing now, his accent thicker than usual, like he’s purposefully leaning into it just to see how far he can push you.

your response is a choked sound, caught between a whimper and a plea, and könig’s grin widens.

“good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing over your jaw. “because i’m not stopping until you’re begging for me.”

and true to his word, he doesn’t stop—not until you’re a trembling, flustered mess beneath him, completely undone by the way he wields his voice like a weapon.

[fandom-go-round]

Hello! If you're still taking requests, I'd really appreciate it if you could please write some headcanons about Emmrich, Lucanis, Neve and Bellara dating a Rook who has pretty significant burn scars, particularly on their back, stomach, legs, arms, hands or feet. The scars are healed now, but they still consider them unsightly so they try to cover up as much as possible. I'd love to see your take on their reaction to Rook's scars being revealed to them for the first time.

Burn scars also come with a lot of complications like having to keep them out of sunlight, they often get pretty itchy and since skin regulates body temperature you can get cold super easily if you have significant burns. So if you want to include any of those factors feel free!

As someone who legit cannot be trusted around hot liquids and has scars from 2nd degree burns, I'd appreciate it, but if you don't want to write something like this I understand. Thank you, and I hope your day is going well!

Thank you so much for a Dragon Age request! I had a lot of fun with it!

Warnings: Burns, Talk of Burns, Previous Injuries, Implied Low Self Esteem, Implied Body Issues

Emmrich Volkarin:

As someone who usually wears layers when out and about, Emmrich doesn’t notice right away you’re covered almost always. He thinks of it as a personal style, at least until you’re exposed to the cold. It only takes one instance of fighting a desire demon and your hands to shake so bad you can’t hold your weapon for him to wonder. He won’t ask you of course, especially when Harding asks if you’re alright and you deflect.

The first time he sees your burns himself, Emmrich has a lot of thoughts. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, not meeting his eyes as you continue to make dinner. It’s the first time he’s seen you in short sleeves and without gloves; you had thought you were alone at the Lighthouse. He wonders where you got the wounds and how but instead, he apologizes for starling you and asks if he can help. You agree to let him help and it takes almost a full hour for the tension to leave your shoulders. Emmrich is happy to wait as long as possible for you to trust him.

The longer the two of you are together, the more you open up about your scars. Emmrich is willing to listen to anything you say and go at your own pace. He’ll go out of his way to buy you embroidered gloves that you adore and has no issues steering the others away from the topic. He’ll hesitate to touch your scars because he doesn’t want to hurt you but once you assure he can touch, he loves kissing your everywhere. Scars are a part of you but they don’t define you.

Lucanis Dellamorte:

He’s one of the first companions to notice, mostly because he has some burns himself. Not as wide spread as yours but Crow training wasn’t kind to him and he sees the way you favor warm over cold and how your legs get itchy after being in Rivani. Lucanis makes sure to cook warm meals and uses ingredients that help with itchiness. He’s a silent supporter from the beginning.

The extent of your scars makes hm angry. He has no way of knowing (at first) where your scars come from and assumes them to be a battle gone wrong. Spite often speaks of hunting the people down who hurt you and he’s inclined to agree. If he finds out the burns are because of an accident he’s going to hover more. If you’re this accident prone he’ll be your silent shadow so you don’t get hurt again. Tell him off if he hovers too much; Lucanis will find something else to help with.

He has no issues touching your scars but will make sure you’re alright with it first. He never wants to make you uncomfortable and watches for your verbal and nonverbal ques. Lucanis will do whatever he can to help you feel better; putting on ointment, buying you new clothing, whatever you’d like. He won’t let anyone talk down to you. He’s protective on a good day and if someone tries to say anything about your scars? His knife is already at their throat.

Bellara Lutare:

Bellara doesn’t realize you have burn scars until you take your coat off, wet from being slammed into the lake. It took her and Davrin combined to pull you out and you’re swearing up a storm as you strip. Davrin just teases you about losing your footing before going to find firewood. Bellara doesn’t catch herself staring until you turn away and she busies getting the camping set out.

She doesn’t bring the scars up until the two of you are alone, checking in. Mostly she wants to make sure you’re not in pain and if you are, she can make burn cream. Someone in her clan had burns like yours that bothered them. You’re surprised by her practical offer and kiss her cheek, thankful for her support. You take her up on the offer, especially when you end up on the coast. The hot air makes you super itchy.

It becomes a habit for her to help you put the burn cream on your back since it’s hard for you to reach. It’s a soft moment inside the normal day to day chaos. Bellara loves that you trust her enough to let her do this and gets to touch you. Her face is red by the end and you tease her but its worth all the teasing to see the soft look in your eyes. Once of these days she’s going to get her nerve to kiss you, she promises!

Neve Gallus:

Neve figured you were using clothing to cover up something. Most people don’t wear as many layers as you and it a toss up between scars or you really are that much trouble. The truth is, as always, a little bit of both. You naturally run cold but it’s more than that. The first time she sees your scars, she’ll admit she wasn’t expecting them. She knows that jobs can go wrong, she just wishes you were luckier.

She won’t talk about the scars unless you bring them up. She understands how it feels for others to judge you based on old wounds; she’s almost punched people because of her leg. Neve does go out of her way to get you warm drinks to hold and buys you long pants as yours get ruined. The detective side of her wants to know how you got the scars but she does her damnedest to keep those thoughts to herself.

Neve can’t help but kiss the scars when she can, almost without thinking. Clothes on or off, she’ll kiss the palm of your hand or rub your shoulder. Let her know if the touching is too much and she’ll back off. She accepts every part of you, scared or not. She likes the flustered look on your face, it isn’t often she throws you off. Neve can and will use it to her advantage.

[domesticgoddess22]

wish upon a cowboy

chapter 5: giver/taker

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them. warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst word count: 3.3k(ch5) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI masterlist | Ao3 | My Booktower @orcasoul @guiltyaschargedmf @idrkman (Thank you, guys. I'm going to assume you want to be tagged for the next few chapters too. Please let me know if not, no judgement <3 )

au: quick recap. You just told Joel you were pregnant and before he can respond, there's a group of raiders that threaten both of your safety.

~~~~

Joel’s jaw locks and his nostrils flare, the only telltale signs that he’s having any emotional response to your news and doing everything in his power to keep it bottled up inside. Whether it’s anger he feels or excitement, you don’t know. So he says nothing, tugs your arm with near-bruising force, and stuffs you into the nursery closet.

“J-Joel! Don’t leave me in here I can–” 

“Shut up!” He demands in a hushed whisper, the closet door clicking shut and obstructing the angry snarl of his lips from your view. “Do not move from this closet,” is his last command before stepping back out into the loft.

Whatever it is he’s feeling, he’s channeling it into something physical. Something violent. You see it through the crack of the bifold doors with the way he swaggers over to the stairwell, twirling his handgun around his pointer finger like he’s about to play a game of darts with his buddies–like death isn’t waiting around the corner to claim yet another soul from this wasteland. Joel’s broad shoulders are tense, brow furrowed, back pressed against the stairwell as the men enter the house. 

“We know you’re in here, and we know you’ve got a pretty little whore with ya. Come out now and we won’t hurtchya, how’s that sound?”

The man’s voice is raspy, like he’s smoked a pack of Marlboro Reds and sipped car oil for the last eighteen years, and that’d be a feat because both items are scarce. The unwelcoming sound of his voice cuts across the house in a thunderous bellow, like the terrorizing sound of infected thrashing against the metal walls of your old QZ.

When Joel doesn’t respond, the man’s temper ignites. “Look, there’s four of us and only two of you. Do the math, bitch!”  

Your heartbeat is a deafening, pounding drum in your ears. You still see Joel, a horizontal sliver in the crack of the door, illuminated with the humble rays of twilight that make his lumberjack green flannel look more like steel blue. He’s silent like a predator, unmoving but alert, his eyes trained on the men downstairs as he takes shelter in the shadows.

Before you can process what’s happening, Joel is out of your field of view and gunshots bang in a rapid succession. Three shots–four? It could have been ten, but you lost count after the first two when your ears started ringing. Your eyes are wide in shock, your body trembling in fear of what’s next to come. Then you hear the rumbling roars of angry men followed by a thundering crash downstairs. Two men are shouting profanities, fists punching against flesh, wood splintering, and the sound of bodies crashing to the floor. 

Suddenly your painful memories of your parents’ execution flash through your mind. The empty, lonely feeling in the pit of your stomach when they left this world. Left you. And then you were on your own again. Alone so long you forgot what it felt like to have someone hold you. Couldn’t remember the warmth of someone’s touch and if you even missed it.

The only contact you’d had was that of violence, of the men back in Austin that tried to have their way with you, of thieves that left you with a bullet in your thigh in the middle of a clicker-infested city. 

And then you met Joel. Sure he was grumpy, didn’t say much, and sometimes seemed almost annoyed with you, but you eventually learned that it’s just how he is. That underneath that thick layer of hurt he wears, there’s a soft teddy bear that’s ready to protect you at all costs. Yet, all you can do is hide. Guilt weighs on you like a thousand bricks. You’d hoped to be more useful than this, but without a weapon, you’re just chicken that’s too scared to get your ass out of this closet and go help.

The final gunshot goes off and there’s a loud thump on the wooden floorboards, the showdown between the last two men standing has come to an end. Now there’s only one man left in the house with you. He’s either a killer or a killer. You hope to God that it’s Joel because if it isn’t, there’s going to be a big gaping hole in your heart when you have to walk this earth without him–assuming you make it out of this house alive.

So you hope that it’ll be him who appears at the top of the stairs in victory. That he’ll open the closet doors and give you that grumpy look of his, mutter that he ‘took care of it’ like he always does and you’ll rush into his arms, thanking God that he made it. But when the house is eerily still and there’s no sign of Joel, the heartwrenching reality of losing him sinks into the pit of your stomach like an anvil.

It only took two months. Two months for you to fall in love with him. Two months for him to fuck you so good that he got you pregnant. You cover your mouth to muffle your sobs, sticky tears streaming down your face, letting a good minute pass before you summon the courage to move.

With a shaky, feathered touch you push open the creaky doors and will yourself out of your hole, knees chafing against the muck green carpet as you scuffle out of the nursery and peek through the stair rail. You see three figures splayed out on the kitchen floor, but in the dim light of the late afternoon, you can’t confirm if any of them are Joel.

The wooden railing presses into each side of your cheek as you careen forward a little further, nose peeking out from between the bars, eyes cast downward with apprehension to find the startling image of a thick pool of blood that’s painted the checkered tile a jarring shade of crimson.

Skin as rough as sandpaper clasps around the back of your neck, fingers snaking into your hair and yanking you up off the floor. “Well, well, well, whatta we have here?” A yellow grin shines at you, blood oozing from a mean cut chiseled across his cheek. “Found myself a little mouse,” he coos, and there’s a horrid stench of cigarettes that sucker punches your gag reflex. 

“What the fuck did you do to Joel?” You hiss as your face scrunches up with a mixture of anger and despair before you melt into a sob. That the last gunshot was for Joel. You were officially alone and would probably die soon too, if you were lucky. 

“Awww, don’t cry now. You don’t need that old fart, now do ya?” His voice is dripping with false sincerity, disgustingly saccharine that it only made you cry more.  “Woah, woah woah, did he fuck you that good? Don’t worry little bambi, I’ll show ya a good time and you won’t cry no more.”

The despair doesn’t last long. Joel’s voice calls your name from in the kitchen, and then his angry footsteps eat the stairs. 

The man whips you in front of him, a knife digging its nasty edge into your cheek. “Come any close and I’ll fucking cut her up!” He screams, chest heaving in a sporadic rhythm. “Don’t think I won’t, bitch!”

Joel stops in his tracks at the top of the stairs, gun aimed at the target, and from your perspective, dangerously close in aim to your body as well. 

“You best do as I say if you want her to live.”

“What d’ya want?” Joel’s voice is raspier, deeper than the gentler version that you’re used to.

His elbow hooks tighter around your neck as he belts out, “Gun on the ground–NOW!!” 

Joel doesn’t move, doesn’t obey. “Let’s just talk about this first–” 

“I said now!” Spit flies across the room as the man reaches the precipice of unhinged–if he wasn’t already there. 

“Easy, easy,” Joel coos as though he’s talking to a horse. He bends at the knees, slowly easing himself down to place his gun on the ground, but you know it’s all a facade. Joel can’t bend his knees all the way without suffering the consequences of his age. There’s no way he’s going to gently ease down.

Joel, half-crouched as he prepares to drop his gun, flicks his eyes at you. The two of you exchange a telepathic agreement on what would transpire next before he redirects his gaze to the enemy. Your brows crease desperately as your mouth puckers together to silently mouth the word no. Because what can you even do?

That’s when the enemy’s elbow constricts even tighter around your neck. You notice the gleam of blood oozing out of a wound in his forearm. A bullet wound. With a deep breath and a strong dose of courage, you dig your thumb into his wound with all your might, a guttural roar tearing from your lungs as you do. 

You duck. A gunshot erupts.

One shot to his chest, then two, and the man finds himself knocked back against the stair rail. He flips back from the sudden impact and then there’s a loud thud of his body meeting the first floor of the house. Unable to tear your eyes away from the horror, you curl into yourself as the prospect of death releases its chokehold on you once more.

And it’s all thanks to Joel, who rushes to your side and wraps his arms around you, your back is flush against his chest, and you feel a sudden rush of warmth and safety. “Thought I told ya to stay hidden? Shoulda known you wouldn’t listen.”

“I thought something happened to you, I didn’t know what to do!”

“I told ya I always win,” he breathes out, voice smokey and confident in the shell of your ear. He rests his chin on your shoulder and rocks your body side to side, his hands gently gripping your waist for support. His chest is still heaving from the earlier altercation as his calloused palm slides up from under your sweatshirt and you feel his rough hand flush against your belly. “Think the baby is happy I won?” He smirks into your neck and you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You twist your neck around to meet his gaze, big brown eyes look at you lovingly. “Yeah, I think the baby is happy their daddy won.” Your breath ghosts his lips and then you smile, looking up at him through thick lashes.

He spins you around so his hips are pressed into yours, and then he pulls you into a sweet kiss, which quickly transitions to something more heated and steamy as he goes from tasting your lips to lapping at your tongue. A masculine groan rumbles from his throat all the way into yours. That’s when you realize he’s hard. Really hard. 

“Joel, right now? Really?” Your tone is playful as you stifle your giggles, pushing away his kisses to no avail. He demands more, kissing and licking your neck instead. 

“You put a spell on my or some’n ‘cuz baby, your pussy is all I can think about,” he’s sucking on your neck now, thrusting into you with his jeans on. “Now you go ‘n tell me you're pregnant with my kid, how else am I supposed to celebrate?”

“We shouldn't do it here, though. It's still not safe.”

“If anybody comes in here…” Joel begins, pausing as his heady kisses decorate your neck, “I'll just kill ‘em.” Your panties feel soaked at the sound of his protective threat. His forearms meet the backside of your thighs, cushioning your ass as he lifts you off of the ground and into his veiny arms. His strong lower back muscles feel firm against your calves as you cling to him, his hard cock throbbing through his jeans against where you need him most. 

In the master bedroom, the moonlight spills on the sheets like water, illuminating the faded silk fabric with a bluish glow. The dresser is decorated with relics from another time, a vase with withered flowers, porcelain knick knacks of a wedding couple, and dusty necklaces–all of which barely have enough luster left to light the room, like the dimming light of a candle as it swallows the last inch of its wick. 

Joel rests you on the edge of the oakwood dresser, releasing you from his embrace just long enough to remove your pants, and then he presses his torso into you once more. His tongue dances with yours, chest heaving as he pours every kiss he has into your soul. One thick palm is pressed to your cheek and then he curls it around your neck for support, reeling you in even closer.

His other hand finds yours, tangling your fingers together like a stitch that could never be unsewn. His touch and his kiss felt like real love, even if it wasn’t said in words, you could feel your love for him, and you hoped that he felt it too.

All your life, you’ve never felt more safe than you do by Joel’s side. You belong here. Belong with him. It’s in this moment that you realize you were meant to be with Joel from now until the rest of your life. It was no mistake that you were carrying his child, it was exactly as it should be. There was never going to be anyone else besides Joel. You were safe by him, safe in his arms, his kiss, and safe with his cock buried inside you every night.

He pulls your panties to the side, a string of your wet connecting you to the fabric. “Oh sweetie…” Joel coos, rubbing the thick pads of his fingertips against your slippery folds. “Did’ya miss me that much?”

You bite your lower lip and look up at him, wide-eyed and slutty as you moan mhmmmm. He hums in approval, peeling your shirt off to reveal your perky, bare breasts. In one long drag, he licks your chest from just above your breast up to your collarbone.

“Baby, ‘m not gonna be gentle with you. Need you bad.” His voice is hot in your ear, locks of your hair tickling your cheek from the soft wind of his breath. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” He asks, rubbing delicious circles into your clit that make it impossible to refuse him. 

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes what?” He says through gritted teeth, yanking your panties off.

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“That’s my girl. Now spread those legs f’me and show me that pretty little pussy.” Obediently, you do as he says, a desperate need to please him igniting your core. The last time he had you, you were both drunk. This time would be different and you could feel it. He was sober, more aware of your body, more in control. He sinks to his knees, relishing in the view of your glistening cunt. “Fuck… You’re gorgeous. Been dreamin’ about this since the last time I had you.” 

His bristly beard brushes against your naked thighs and his lips hover over your slit. You can feel his breath, a warm, welcoming breeze in the cool fall air. “No…” You plea, pushing him away, but you have no effect on him as he digs his nose into your folds and tastes your entrance. “Joel, I’m embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be. You’re beautiful,” he praises and proceeds to suck on your bud. Your back arches in ecstasy. Whatever part of you refused him before was long gone and replaced with a slutty girl that was begging for more.

“Ahhn, just like that–Don’t stop.”

“You were tellin’ me no just a second ago, now you’re beggin’ for more?” His laugh rumbles into you, vibrating your pussy and making you feel even more stimulated. You moan at the pressure of his tongue swirling on your clit, shamelessly rolling your hips onto his face as he pulls his name from your lips.

“Want you inside me–Please, please…” The words tumble out of your mouth.

He smirks at you, masculine pride reflecting on his face, “Needy girl. I like that.” He stands up, the sound of his zipper opening is followed by the pressure of his cock against your cunt. With both of his hands firmly on your waist, his hips snap to yours without any warning, all of his length splitting you open with a delicious sting that quickly becomes euphoric. Both of your jaws go slack at the feel of one another. 

This time around, you were carrying his baby, creating a bond between the two of you that could never be broken. You belonged to him and belonged to you. Joel’s eyes are dangerously dark as he leans over you, your ass in his hands, his cock in your cunt, and now his lips against yours. He kisses you roughly, tongue tasting yours as you gasp for air in between each kiss.

His hips slap against yours at a devastating pace, the trinkets on the dresser clinking together, drawers shaking violently, the entire frame of the dresser threatening to dent the walls.

His kisses are rough, his thrusting is brutal, and his grip on your waist was sure to leave bruises in the morning. Joel is far from gentle. He’s fucking you. Hard. And you love every minute of it. The way his skin sounds slapping against yours, the way he grunts in echo of your wanton moans, and the way your wet sounds squelching with his juice, dripping out of your slot and coating the salt and pepper bristles around his cock. It leaves your mouth watering, your cunt dripping, and your legs shaking.

It’s the best sex you ever had.

Joel’s groans deepen, his pace becoming more erratic as your walls clench around him tighter and tighter. You can feel him swelling with each moan. You wrap your legs around his back and reel him in even closer.

“‘m close, baby.”

“Fuck me,” you plea, just to reach your white hot climax too. “Make me yours, Joel.” Your words are enough to send him over the edge. 

“Come on my cock, baby,” the sensations send you over the edge, soaking his cock just like he asks. His head kisses your cervix again and again, and you feel the pressure of his balls on your slot with his final thrust as he pours his warmth into you with a masculine groan, biting into your shoulder and kneading his fingers into your breast. 

“We’re gonna have to stop doin’ this eventually,” he says after pulling out his half-hard cock and watching his sperm drool out of your slot. Then he scoops it up and with two fingers, shoves it back into your hole to hide the mess. 

“Why?” Your brows knit together, eyes wide with desperation as he pulls out again. Why would either of you ever this to end?

“Don’t matter now since you’re already pregnant, but if we keep this up, you’ll keep gettin’ pregnant again ‘n again,” he says taking a few steps back and zipping up his jeans. You almost feel sad that his cock is no longer on display for your pleasure. You decide to be bold with him–you’ve spread your legs twice for him and are the mother of his baby for God’s sake.

You hop off the dresser, sashay over to where he stands, and snake your palms up his chest before placing them on each of his cheeks. You pull him down to you and softly kiss his lips, the tang of your wet is still an aftertaste on his lips.

“I don’t want this to stop. Ever,” you say, voice a little raspy and worn from your lovemaking session.

Joel looks at you in thought, his beautiful brown eyes, once lustful, are now filled with the glistening shine of adoration. In this moment, you can see the outline of yourself reflected in the darkness of his eyes and a feeling of love floods through you once more.

He smiles, crows feet creasing at the side of his eyes as he says, “I’d like that.”

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 4 - She Doesn't Know What She's Done

The rogue is not jealous. Well, maybe a little.

On AO3.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Astarion has never drowned. Cannot drown, technically speaking. Yet this feels eerily similar to how he’s imagined doing just that.

His leader ducks into her tent and her little beastie chirps and trills. She bids Astarion good night, and lets the flap fall closed. He’s left to stand there as his lungs fill with something thick, his insides grown suddenly heavy.

Consider herself well and truly taken?

Oh, he’s said lines much like it many times. More than many: a well-placed “I love you” with a soft face and a voice tightened by feigned desperation? Not enough to alarm, but enough to entice? Pretty stories of devotion, how he’s never felt this way before but having laid eyes upon whatever unfortunate idiot he’s selected that night. Uses it on the foolish sweethearts when he’s in the mood to be selfish.

This should be no different. Is no different, other than the duration. His current darling is no mayfly night of passion. He’s had to work hard, be patient to finally draw her in and secure his prize.

He’s never kept a prize, however. It was never his prize. Now he’s caught one, and he has to…do something with it. Keep it. She’d been getting skittish again. They’ve gone too long without him reminding her why she ought to keep him close. And with the rest of their merry band of fools about, she won’t need to rely on him as she did in the Underdark.

(Why does that almost…hurt?)

He should be grateful he needs to do less than usual. Yet the way she looks to the others now. That protective flintiness to her gaze. He’s…jealous. And he ought to be! None of them were around to watch her back (figuratively speaking) and steal her away from a band of drow. None of them kept her provisioned, or shared their tent, or watched over her (sort of) as she slept.

Yet here they are, expecting her kindness as if they’ve earned it.

As if he’s…

But he has secured her. And tomorrow, he’ll give her a reminder. Show her what his hands or his lips or his body can do for her. He’s won, godsdamnit. This is satisfaction tightening his chest.

For now, he should reverie while he has the chance (grim though that task is). He turns. And spots the cleric staring, not even trying to disguise her eavesdropping. She lifts a single, judgmental eyebrow.

So he puts on his best simper and tucks himself into a theatrical bow. Then ducks into the privacy of his own tent. That no longer carries his leader’s warmth or her scent.

He’s not jealous of the little furred beast.

***

The doors of their decrepit sanctum screech almost as badly as Petras when Godey’s feeling particularly energetic. Astarion has to join the cleric in covering his ears until the tortured things are finally wrenched wide enough for them all to catch a glimpse of this shadow curse.

The heaviness already plaguing him plummets to a new low.

Outside was once a wood. Tall trees, green grass, probably bouncing bunnies and frolicking fawns.

What greets them now is beyond dead.

“I’ve seen corpses more lively than this place,” he says. “And I don’t mean my own brethren.”

Eleanor winces with her entire body. Even her beastie shuffles closer to her legs. She reaches down, thoughtlessly, to scratch the animal’s head. Astarion wonders where he might stash such a creature after he’s drained it.

There is no sky. No horizon. Twisted trees, rotted black, the bark split like a days-old corpse to show decayed, hollow wood. Barren ground, save for clumps of something writhing and twisting slowly in the gloom. He has an inkling that walking into that would be a terrible idea.

“Do we have more torches?” says the druid.

The large elf looks grimmer than the dead landscape. Astarion has seen sad eyes—he’s quite drawn to them, usually. A sad mark is an easy mark. And the druid looks rather like a beggar who’s had his last coin swiped by a pickpocket.

Astarion leans in close to his leader. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if our venerable guide simple keeled over.”

Realizes immediately it was the wrong thing to say. Because Eleanor is soft when she’s not a terror, and now he’s drawn her attention to a wounded baby bird, of sorts.

Damnit.

“Halsin?” she says.

The big elf pulls back into himself. Offers what she probably sees as an encouraging, if slight, smile. Says, “It’s alright.”

Only Astarion is drawn to those, too. Can spot the crack along that smile, and the festering beneath it. Sorrow. Shame, perhaps. The druid wouldn’t stand out in a lower city dockside tavern, four cups in and mooning for some lost love.

He uses his cantrip to light a spare torch when his leader glances his way. Let her see his magic (he’s learning magic) is as potent as ever. He even hands her that torch. Doesn’t imagine (he hopes) the way her face softens as she takes it.

Good. Focus on him.

They head out, into the gloom. The shadows immediately swallow them. Astarion is used to shadows. Has something of a love/hate affair with them, really. They’re quite useful for slinking about when he’s drawn unwanted attention. When that bastard let him out of the kennels as prey rather than lure. But being confined only to the shadows, even when he doesn’t want to be…

Their tiefling flares hot. The orange glow in her chest burns, mechanical heart brightening as the vents along her arm spit sparks.

“Anybody else feel like we’re being watched?” she says.

Dearest Eleanor is close enough he could reach out and brush her ear. Which he does not do. Her gaze flicks about, a nervous bird finding no safe perch.

“Usually, I’m the one stalking the shadows,” he says. Her gaze lands on him for a moment. That’s it. Look to him. Draw her in. “I can’t say I appreciate being on the other end.”

“Stay within the light, whatever occurs,” the big druid says. As if his bulk doesn’t take up nearly an entire circle of said light.

Something moves in Astarion’s periphery. Too fluid to be a living thing, too solid to be a spirit.

“What the fuck,” his leader says.

The mist around them swirls into tendrils, into claws reaching for them. They stop at the edge of the torchlight and curl back into mist. Things move within—small sounds, scurrying sounds. Odd, dry clicking that makes Astarion think of hated bones scraping along joints as a skeletal face leers down.

He turns to make some remark, only to find his leader curling in on herself, teeth beginning to chatter. He feels nothing but the usual touch of undeath. On a lark, he sticks his hand out, brushes his gloved fingertips through the mist, and it feels like the grave. Waking in the dark, lungs creaking, kicking and thrashing and something was wrong, wrong, wrong why was he in a box oh gods, gods—

He hisses. Pulls back.

“Careful,” the druid says, as if her were an errant child. “The curse lies thicker than I’ve ever seen it. I wouldn’t expect it to pass over even you, Astarion.”

“Because I’m so charming?” he says.

“Because you’re a corpse that doesn’t know better,” the cleric says.

He should bite her.

But now she’s frowning and reaching out. There’s something in the road—if he’s being supremely charitable with that word—ahead. She makes a small sound, takes a step towards it. A step outside the light.

“Shadowheart,” the wizard says, the first strain of tension pulling at his voice.

But the cleric stands there, looking at her hands, down over her body. Turns back and there’s a look to her eyes he’s seen before, on the wretches and idiots drawn to that bastard’s mansion of their own accord. The desperate and deranged come to prove their service in return for the gift of immortality.

Astarion manages to not to bare his teeth at the naked fanaticism shining through their cleric. Barely.

Beside him, his leader’s face has turned to stone.

“It doesn’t affect me,” the cleric says. Brushes one of the reaching hands of mist. Her touch passes through it like it’s nothing but colored festival smoke. “It must be my lady’s protection. She must love me still.”

Familiar again. He’s heard that in other voices.

In his own.

Disgusting.

“Ugh, the rest of us our trying to keep our breakfasts, if you don’t mind,” he says.

To his surprise, it’s the gith who swipes back. “You did not feed this morning. Or last night.”

He can’t help it. Instinct and armor all at once, and the flirting slides down, over his face. “Oh, are you offering, my dear?”

“Touch my neck and you will not even see me strike your head from your shoulders.”

He turns to his leader. “Mmm, I do love spicy food.”

But she’s looking at the cleric—now examining the pile of rags in the road. A long-withered skeleton in faded, rotting armor. Apparently it’s a “dark justiciar” according to their cleric, who sighs wistfully.

There’s something very peculiar to the way his leader watches this. Not quite hostile. But more than focused. It’s close to the face she wears when she’s plotting a murder, except…no, that’s not correct, either.

The cleric is taking up entirely too much of Eleanor’s attention. That won’t do. Not at all. He needs to be her primary focus, not their delusional Sharran.

The group eventually moves on. Astarion lets himself drift back. Waits until he’s nearly out of the light. The skull of the dead fanatic stares up at him. The face is halfway crumbled, though the teeth are all there, shiny and yellowed.

He brings his boot down right through where the nose would have been. Crushes the thing to powder.

When he looks up, Eleanor stares.

“Ah, clumsy me,” he says. “Shall we?”

He needs to get to her tonight. Refocus her. Keep that tether tight and strong.

Note: No update next Wednesday, possibly not on next Saturday either. I'll be back by 1/8/25 though.

[swee7dream]

dreamies as manhwa characters 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

genres miscellaneous + headcanons triggers one mention of gagging (?) just to be safe . note purely for myself . i have no one to talk to about my 300+ reading list of shoujo manga/manhwa so you all get this .

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

saebom from no office romance !

is it really mark lee-coded if it’s not (childhood) friends-to-lovers? exactly.

saebom and mark are walking green flags full of reasonable expectations, goofy mannerisms, and encouraging words even if it will not result in the best outcome for them personally

everyone loves them, it’s impossible to hate them!

even when their jokes are pity laugh-worthy with their loud barfing sounds and accidentally guilt-tripping gags

they mess up as all humans do but they always do their best to fix it as soon as possible to minimize damage.

they’re considerate of others but also (rightfully) proud of their work and aren’t shy to display it when the time is right. hashtag stream fraktsiya

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

cheol from after school lessons for unripe apples !

obviously i’m not thinking physically when i consider them similar.

but on the inside. on the inside… they are one.

they aren’t too open about their feelings. sometimes it feels like they don’t understand them themselves. and so they have a thin veil of mystique around them

it’s just nerves

they’re both just nervous guys who feel the need to protect everything at all times while also trying to hold back because, why should they? that’s not their job. they’re not getting paid for this.

but it’s just such an innate action on their part they just can’t help themselves !

they are responsible individuals who are just chaos magnets.

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა

zachary from a marriage of convenience !

men of little words. men of… easily misunderstandable words.

we’re not going to go into zachary’s story because if you haven’t read marriage of convenience i am on my knees begging you to

it’s easy to write them off as tsuns, especially with the way jeno treats jisung, but they’re NOT

they are such big lovers they will move heaven and earth for their loved ones and still be understanding if you ask for something else or more, even

they are well aware of their grand accomplishments, but also keep their eye fixed on their loved ones’ expectations, always making room for improvement

also… great physiques GUYS WHO SAID THAT TUMBLR BLOG SWEE7DREAM GOT HACKED GET THE NEWS REPORTERS

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

kevin from spirit fingers !

specifically, more last arc kevin.

they’re silly, they’re clingy, they love their partner !!!!!!

the banter is always next level with them yet so are the dramatics and sulking.

their confidence is just attractive whether its romantic, platonic, whatever !

they know that no matter what they wear or if they have makeup on or not, their pretty privilege will cancel out the fact that there’s toilet paper clinging to the bottom of their shoes

their positivity is like a purifying beam to the people around them. their kind words and actions are done with the purpose to uplift the people around them.

you can’t have a low self-esteem around them, they are professional cheerleaders! hypemen! supporters!

how could you not love them?

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

camute from the crow’s prince !

i was originally gonna put tamaki from ohshc but that’s like saying the sky is blue. we all know that, why beat a dead horse?

so, camute it is !

first of all, blond. they both eat up the hair color. blueprinted, invented, copywritten !

that aside, they are so open in communication it’s like you just got hit in the eyeball with a neobong with how much of a green flag they both are.

they won’t make you say anything you don’t want to say in the moment, but will make sure to get the point across that they expect to have a conversation about the subject in the near future because YOU ARE IMPORTANT TO THEM.

they’re also highly protective to the point it’s SILLAY. they’re a sulky kind of jealous not a ‘i will lock you up in a basement in an abandoned mansion on the top of a remote mountain for making eye contact with Frank From Work’ kind of jealous

jaemin on bbl… ‘my bag is heavy :(’ ‘oh ur gonna help me? WRONG ANSWER. NEVER TRUST ANY MAN.’

so true king 💯

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ)

kahir from i’m the tyrant’s secretary !

‘you love me? duh, of course you do.’

very positive self-perception. nothing can tear this man down. except you, even though he’ll act otherwise.

has a different standard than everyone else from clothes and technology to relationships. to them, it’s easy to act as if money is no object, instead placing more effort into the people that they care about.

their thoughtful gifts are sometimes extravagant to the eyes of anyone aside from themselves, but they really have a different standard of what is considered acceptable, especially if it is something that is going to belong to their loved ones.

don’t you realize how their gifts are also a reflection of themselves? how could they gift anything less than perfect????

quick to cut out anyone that could even be THOUGHT of as a bad influence around their people, and they’ve already warned and cut ties with the person for the simple claim of Bad Vibes (they’re right most of the time it’s actually creepy)

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩)

nadrika from i have fallen into a reverse harem game !

they’re just so soggy wet dog coded

jisung is a five-time loser of the modern public ridicule that is awsaz. you can tell him to do anything and he will, red-faced and sighing the entire time, but he’ll do it

there is just something so ‘aww :(’ about him that makes the people around him go ‘I WILL PROTECT YOU’ at their 5’11 height

they’re either in their own little world, thinking about what life would be like if they lived in saturn rather than earth, or staring at you like painted each star that dots the night sky as you speak

they do not think twice before sacrificing their pride and reputation for the sake of their loved ones (even if it is not asked of them), too shy to ask for but also too obvious to hide the fact they are expecting praise and affection in return

soggy wet dogs that are like 300 pounds but still want to be treated like lap dogs

[nameuserlee]

Sylus — Night of Secrecy 💋❤️

❤️- Screenshots -❤️

❤️ - Kindled scene below the cut + my thoughts/rambling -❤️

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Uhm. Wow. Just, wow. My sincere congratulations to Sylus and MC, the kiss card finally came and so did they, hallelujah.

I still can't believe this card is real, though. I'm genuinely dizzy, and I mean that in the best possible way. Because it’s sooo perfect. 10/10. No notes. Would swipe for again in a heartbeat.

I didn’t really know what I wanted their first kiss to look like. But I know that whatever I could’ve imagined wouldn’t have been nearly as good as this was. Now let me yap about this!

MC finally gets to bring Onychinus' leader to her place! After learning he needs a place to crash for 3 days before leaving for “business”, MC very generously offers her apartment as a safe house, both to keep him close and to figure out where he’ll be going since he won’t tell her (for her safety, of course).

And my god, these 3 days of them living together are the cutest, most domestic thing I’ve ever had the pleasure to read.

Shopping for groceries together, getting him his own pair of house slippers, him using (all of) her body wash. Sylus being in her space feels right, despite the smaller doorframes and treacherous bathroom cabinets.

(Grown ass man needs us to blow on his boo-boo. ADORABLE.)

But nevermind how cute this is, the situation is still unusual. Sylus and MC’s worlds kinda clash, despite how well they now get along and how much they care for each other. They are both aware of this, and no matter how fun this little play-pretend is, it’s going to have to end soon.

On their drive to the supermarket, Sylus prompts MC with a question: “When you’re in danger during a mission, do you think of anyone?” And the exchange that follows means a lot to me.

“But after my dirty work is done, I’ll wash my hands before going home.” I need this line tattooed across my forehead.

Sylus can’t leave his life back in the N109 zone, but he also doesn’t want to give up MC. And above all else, he wants to keep her safe. He tries to keep her away from his actual “business” as much as he can (which explains why he refuses to tell her where he’s going after their 3 days together).

If it weren’t for the N109 zone being risky for him to stay in right now and MC very conveniently proposing her place, he definitely would’ve found somewhere else to crash.

And so his best way to protect her while indulging their desire to see each other is to promise to “wash his hands before going home.” Whenever he gets to come back to her, he is not bringing his work to her. He will not allow himself to carelessly “taint” her life with his lifestyle. Very sweet, very thoughtful, very mindful (are we still saying mindful in 2025?) .

I’m gonna fast forward to their last night together/the kindled scene because I fear I could talk about every single line in this card.

Where to even begin.

BEST PROMPT IVE EVER SEEN ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

MC initating the kiss means everything to me. Thinking back to their first meeting, it’s him forcing her to resonate with her. Now, she’s pretty much the one who sets the pace in their relationship, which leads to this beautiful first kiss. It’s just too good.

“You really don’t want me to leave?” NO SIR SHE WANTS TO CLIMB YOU LIKE A TREE SHE WANTS YOU BAD and there’s no more denying it. She’s been worried sick throughout the whole card about him, trying to make the most out of their time together, and now that it’s down to the last hours, she wants it all.

And when things start to get heated, our consent king doesn’t only ask her once, but TWICE if she wants to do it.

And it’s soooo HOT!

In the kindled, he hopes MC hasn’t changed her mind, since she kinda nudges him away right after saying yes. He wants this to happen just as badly, but no matter what he’s always, always going to put her first, and so he checks in again with her.

Is this the bare minimum? Well yes! But I still think it’s worth noting. Especially if, again, we compare to how cold he was with her at the beginning of the relationship and how he was forcing her to go along with what he wanted.

Consent is sexy, asking for confirmation is hot as hell. 12/10 would smash again.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Anon Ask: Wait wait so we have Bella’s mini me, the yan!romantic!Lestrange!OC x Twin!Weasley or criminal!Weasley

But

What about Yan!Malfoy!OC that’s Narcissa’s mini me just without the intense blood supremacy shit

Definitely magic supremacy, she’d wholeheartedly believe wizards and witches are better then muggles but having nothing against muggleborns/half bloods unless it’s personal beef

———

Pt.2 Draco makes a comment to Twin!Reader about never being able to “afford” a girl like Malfoy!OC when they’re on the Hogwarts Express for the first time and he catches them sharing a smile

He doesn’t understand what Draco means until Fred pats his shoulder and tells him that “girls like expect to be showered in champagne and diamonds and pretty flowers” and advises him to steer clear of her and Draco going forward

His inferiority complex thank you, Molly spirals to the point where Twin!Reader is doing dangerous and most likely illegal shit the more and more he develops feelings because maybe it’ll make Malfoy!OC and his mother really love him

If you wanna make it dramatic then Lestrange!OC is standing beside him almost every day wanting to pull out her hair because she’s right there and her cousin is just toying with his feelings knowing that she’ll never really sacrifice the Malfoy Fortune unless Twin!Reader proves he can provide

He does increasingly stupid shit as the years pass on like pursuing bounties the MoM put on dark wizards while holding a part time job during the summer months and finding a work around to participate in the Triwizard Tournament while selling/trading illegal materials at school

He knows that whatever chances existed are gone the moment Lucius Malfoy sits across from him at a poker table in some back room at a sketchy goblin run establishment and he smokes the table

————

I like to think that Yan!Malfoy!OC and Yan!Lestrange!OC are the same age and with that these two just have this deep seeded rivalry. They just always have. So when Lestrange!OC becomes obsessed with Weasley!Reader, Malfoy!OC sees this as another way to get at her cousin. I can imagine Malfoy!OC being someone who really craves and thrives off attention, just someone who prefers all eyes on her and when Weasley!Reader is doing the most to try and prove himself worthy of her (at least that’s what it looks like) she basks in it, wanting for even more constant attention. But she would never say that she liked Weasley!Reader or anything like that, this is strictly an ego boost for her and a way to get under her cousin’s skin.

I would really like to believe that Weasley!Reader isn’t going out of his way so much as to prove himself to the Malfoy’s or Malfoy!OC but instead he’s doing so to prove to himself that he is capable of so much more than what people think of him. Especially his mother and now the Malfoy’s. He’s not trying to earn Malfoy!OC’s affections like she and everyone else is under the impression of, no what he’s actually doing is finally putting his foot down. Weasley!Reader has put up with a lot, he’s already treated like shit at home by his own mother, he’s not just gonna let someone else treat him the same all over again in the only place he feels even remotely safe and comfortable. And I like to think that this only lasts for a bit, not too long, until Weasley!Reader just has enough of feeling like he needs to do anything to prove himself at all anymore and he just stops completely. Stops giving anything of himself to Malfoy!OC especially cause it’s one thing to have to deal with his mother but he can just walk away from Malfoy!OC and ignore her. The poor boy is just tired. So tired.

But in being ignored, Malfoy!OC instead finds herself at a loss. No one has just up and ignored her before, save for Lestrange!OC, so this is a completely foreign concept to her. At first, she tries to brush it off and act like it’s whatever, if anything this is better cause then she won’t be having to waste her own time on measly Weasley!Reader and his shenanigans. But the longer Weasley!Reader doesn’t even so much as spare her a glance, Malfoy!OC is left feeling empty. She doesn’t want to admit how much she actually looked forward to Weasley!Reader’s attention, how warm she felt inside whenever he came back proud of himself after accomplishing some new endeavor or when he ended up bringing something new from one of his many ventures to prove himself capable. Like, the time he gifted her a Basilisk fang after killing the one in the Chamber of Secrets. (He didn’t gift her shit, he tossed it on the table in the Slytherin common room after coming back from saving Ginny and fighting for their lives. Malfoy!OC just took it as a gift meant for her.) I guess you could say Malfoy!OC is experiencing withdrawals. She’s so out of sorts not having Weasley!Reader seeking her out anymore that she almost doesn’t know what to do with herself. More often than not she’s left just to watch as Weasley!Reader gives the attention he use to put towards her towards Lestrange!OC now. Not like he wasn’t giving her cousin attention before but now that’s all Malfoy!OC sees. And she hates it. She wants his eyes back on her, she wants to be the only thing he looks at. What started off as Weasley!Reader proving himself ends with Malfoy!OC now trying to prove herself more deserving of his attention than her cousin ever could be.

Malfoy!OC would turn into a complete stalker after being ignored and basically abandoned by Weasley!Reader. She is everywhere he goes, she sees and hears everything that goes on with and around him. When the Zabini’s take Weasley!Reader in and under their wings, Malfoy!OC is now making more appearances at the Zabini home when he’s over. And whenever the chance, she’s interrogating Blaise for as much more information as she can get her hands on. Like, Malfoy!OC gets so bad to the point where even Dobby is warning Weasley!Reader, and that’s before he ever started working for him. Or Dobby is reaching out to Lestrange!OC in hopes of her being able to do something, whether it’s to get Malfoy!OC to back off altogether or to just be there for Weasley!Reader. Either way, Malfoy!OC just does a whole downward spiral into obsession. Don’t even get me started on when she demands her parents arrange a marriage between her and Weasley!Reader. After all he’s pureblood so it’s fine and he’s obviously nothing like the rest of his family, so why can’t she have him at the end of the day? All just cause Daddy Lucius is a sore loser? Whatever, he can get over it. Otherwise, Malfoy!OC is going to throw the biggest bitch fit ever seen in Malfoy history.

The rivalry between Lestrange!OC and Malfoy!OC will only become all the more intense after Malfoy!OC’s own obsession kick starts. These two will be at each other’s throats even more than they already were. The only time they can even be considered as remotely ‘working’ together is when it comes to someone else trying to swoop in on Weasley!Reader. Only then is it not “my darling”, but rather “our darling”. Could the two possibly ever come to the capability of sharing, maybe but it’ll never truly be peaceful. There will always be competition but hey at least they both get the same thing at the end of the day, right?