#you just can’t fake those kinda heart eyes

[abstract-venus]

It honestly blows my mind when someone calls Charles a straight boy. Like, did we even watch the same show?? Have you actually seen Charles onscreen for any amount of time at all? He’s sitting on top of furniture, a single dangly earring, and pants that cut off above the ankle to show off his socks. If that wasn’t enough, this boy looks up all the references Edwin makes so he can understand him, and then compares his crush to him because them having the same qualities is why he likes her. He starts acting like a jealous housewife as soon as another boy gets close to Edwin and threatens to punch the cat king the second he thinks he tried making unwanted advances on him. He compares himself and Edwin to Orpheus and Eurydice, one of the most romantic tragedies of all time (which he thought was ONLY romantic) then tells him they have the rest of forever to figure out what their relationship means to the both of them. Not even 2 minutes after they were told that they were safe from the afterlife and allowed to stay together, he starts overtly flirting with Edwin, leaning into him and joking about his charming smile when he already knows just how charmed Edwin is.

If after all that you still think this punkfuck 80’s boy is 100% straight then I’m so sorry but one of us is delusional here and it’s certainly not me

[zeroreasonstocare]

Stress Relief

Cont: established relationship, sub!Choso x fem!reader, pet names (babe, baby, good boy, pretty girl), overstimulation, blowjob (m!receiving), cock slapping, pegging (strap-on), dacryphilia if you squint, no plot just sex, unprotected sex (please wear protection irl), unrealistic amounts of orgasms, kinda got lazy at the end 😓

Word count: ~900

Masterlist

A/n: Sighhhh subby Choso💕 I saw a post where someone said they didn’t like the submissive characterization of Choso and my heart shattered. BUT I like my men submissive (I’m a lesbian) soooo… <3 likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ❀ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

Choso knows you get mean when you’ve had a bad day. Mean how? In bed, obviously! You have a bad day, he’s either between your legs and taking the lead, or you’re just so mean to his body. So it’s no surprise when you come home from work with a scowl that he’d end up beneath you, tears falling down his face, whimpers escaping his throat from how much you’re bullying his sensitive cock.

“Babe- baby- I- fffuck I can’t handle it-” He manages to choke out through whines and tears. You don’t reply as you suck the nth orgasm out of his poor dick.

“F-fuuuck, pretty girl, I can’t- I can’t-” he cries as you finally pull off of his cock with a loud pop echoing the room.

“Use your words like a good boy.” You jerk off his sensitive cock and watch his body jolt, his tip an angry red color from the overstimulation.

“I can’t- I can’t- ple-please…”

You frown at his inability to form a coherent sentence and you smack his sensitive tip, causing him to cry out and try to curl in on himself, pretty tears streaming down his face.

“Fuuuck, I can’t take it, pretty girl, please…”

“Aww, poor little guy can’t take it?” You fake pout and smack his tip again, a pathetic cry coming out of him as he tugs at his hair in overstimulation, knowing if he grabs you he’ll just get a worse punishment.

“I can’t- I can’t take it- I’m sorry- I’m sorry-”

You soothe his poor angry tip and plant small kisses against his skin, making him think that you’re done with your torment.

“Tha-thank you- fuck- thank you- ohhh fuuuck-” Choso sees you put on the strap and he groans, knowing that you’ll spare him no mercy.

“Suck, Cho. Make me feel it.”

Almost instantly, he’s sucking the strap as if you could feel it. Eyes rolling back, pathetic whimpers escaping his throat, little gags from each time he hits the strap on the back of his throat, he’s just so cute under you, wanting you to feel good.

“Good boy, Choso, you’re doing so good.” You grin and run your fingers through his hair, tugging his head closer by the strands because you’re just so mean.

He whines and digs his nails into your plush thighs, crescent shapes imprinted by how deep he’s digging. You shove his head away and bend him over.

“Ready?”

“Mhm,” he whines, nodding pathetically and trying to spread himself more for you.

You push the strap in and he arches that muscular back. Pathetic cries as you bully his prostate, sheets and pillows being gripped and bit down on to try and muffle his cries.

“Fuck!! Pretty- fuck- pr-pretty girl, I- fuck- I can’t- fuck- fuuuuuck…”

“Use your words, Choso, be a good boy and use those words.”

Your hips are relentless, beating up his poor ass as you grin at his inability to say anything. His body goes limp and you already know he’s reached yet another orgasm.

Choso sees white and you almost think he passed out of it weren’t for his gasps that follow almost ten seconds later.

“Fuck! Fuck! Ohhhhhmygod!” He cries and you tug his head back meanly by his hair.

“Yeah? Feels good? You’re such a good boy…”

“Fuuuck, yes! I’m your good boy! I’m- fuuuck, I’m cumming again, please let me cummmm!!”

“Go ahead, I’ll never deny your pleasure, Cho.”

He cums yet again, and you flip him onto his back so you can see his cute reactions. Your hips are never tired, not when you’re making this big strong man cry from how good you’re pounding his ass.

“Fuck! Ahhh! I can’t- Ican’t- can’t take ittt!!” He cries and cums again, seeing white yet again, then rainbows, butterflies, pure ecstasy on his face as you keep going.

You grin and tease his pierced nipples, but he’s so out of it he just whimpers as tears stream down his face and drool pools out of his mouth.

“Still here, Cho?” You giggle and he just whines pathetically, body jolting with each movement.

“Cock- hic- neglected…” He whimpers, almost reaching for you when you pull out.

“Want me to ride you til you pass out?”

“Please… won’t take long, feels good…”

He’s so fucked out and has hearts for eyes as he looks up at you. He’s just so cute, you can’t help but agree to his wishes, taking off the strap and riding him raw.

Choso weakly grips your hips, watching you like you’re the only thing ever and unable to even make noise. He just feels so good. He cums more times than you can count, unsure if he’s even breathing.

Choso swears he sees god. Someone is peering down at him, perfect in every way, making him so euphoric. That’s the last thing he remembers, at least. He passes out and you notice, stopping your movements slowly and feeling to make sure he is indeed breathing.

You carefully clean him up, as well as yourself. The you lay beside him and rub his sleeping form, wiping his pretty tears out of his eyes and off of his face. You cuddle him and kiss his cheek, knowing you’ll give him all the praise and affection when he wakes up. He’s such a perfect stress reliever.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS — OSAMU MIYA

content warnings: smut, mentions of voyeurism (suna is just there for the ride), possessive language and toxic behaviors, f!reader, situationships, oral (giving and receiving), mind numbing flirting & witty banter, creampie, he calls you a slut twice, you’re both kinda shitty. 🤷🏾

plot: as usual, atsumu has brought another “friends with benefits minus the friend” home. but unusually, osamu can’t stand the thought of you together, even suna agrees, right?

a/n: tv girl referenced! something evil took over me when writing this, I’m getting uninvited from so many miya birthday parties omg … T_T enjoy this 4.6k word vom.

Osamu never thought being roommates with his own twin could get any worse than when they were young boys sharing a bunk bed. Atsumu was never the type to return clothes he borrowed and certainly was the type to eat food sharpied with someone else’s name. What was Osamu’s, by extension, was Atsumu’s. He loved his brother and would yield to his selfishness because that’s just how things were.

Lately, however, Atsumu has been seeing someone, more and more frequently. Going as far as replacing his other quick fucks between practices for you. Osamu can understand why, you’re witty, unbelievably sexy, and far too sophisticated to be a fuck laid by Atsumu whenever he sends a quick “come over” text.

This matter has perplexed everyone in Atsumu Miya’s circle, questions raise on how he even managed to get your attention. “Yer all just mad it’s me she wants,” the cheeky bastard says with a toothy grin. To that, he’s not wrong.

That’s how Osamu and Suna have ended up here, with their ears to the door trying to understand what you possibly could be getting in fair exchange. “You fuckin’ love it don’t you baby,” Atsumu says to you in a tone dripping with confidence. It makes both their stomachs churn thinking of someone so beautiful with a guy like that…

“I just can’t believe this,” Suna dramatizes, he really wants to aid his friend but with each passing second of skin slapping against skin — he doesn’t know how much longer Osamu can take it. The Miyas are .. rather possessive, especially him.

“Mhm hm! Love it ‘Tsumu your dick is so good!” It’s downright pornographic how honey-sweet you sound, it just has to be fake.

“Rin, we both know Atsumu can’t fuck women that good. Tell me I still have a chance,” he’s delusional and he knows it, but the small sliver of hope keeps him desperately chasing after what’s not his.

“You’re crazy,” he snickers, almost pitying his friend for how hard he is beneath his pants. “One Miya is trouble enough, but two? She’ll be running for the hills.”

That’s all Osamu needed to set his plot into motion, he’ll just have to steal you away from him — his own brother.

It’s a quiet Sunday morning in the apartment, you roll out of Atsumu’s huge bed to make yourself coffee like you usually do when you stay over. Bless his heart but you and your newest fuck could not be any more different, he’s a late sleeper, overconfident, and to top it all off he’s not the greatest lay. You weren't sure how you ended up sleeping with a volleyball player.

But, he is undeniably handsome, which is how you found yourself in his bed. Shoving those thoughts aside, you slip into the hallway in nothing but one of his oversized shirts making your way to the kitchen. “Mornin’, coffee’s on the table.”

His voice startles you from your half-awakened stupor and you realize it’s just Atsumu. How sweet, he’s never done something like this for you before. You rub your sleepy eyes as you take a sip from the warm mug, hold on. You just left his bed, how could he be here?

Dark brown hair and cold grey eyes meet yours and instantly you know who this man is. “Oh- I’m so sorry Osamu, it didn’t register to me that you’d be here today.” You panic, trying to cover yourself up with something but he just laughs you off while drinking from his own cup.

Osamu Miya, the twin brother and (elusive) roommate of Atsumu. “You’re fine pretty, just enjoy the coffee. Let me know if you want any breakfast with it.” Once a month Osamu closes his shop in preparation for a big rice delivery from Kita, he’s just happened to catch you alone in his living room.

Involuntary heat rises to your face at his choice of words, you haven’t been formally introduced on account of the fact your relationship with his brother isn’t serious but you don’t mind his informal greeting. “So the rumors are true, you’re a chef?” you query, setting your mug down on a table closest to your seat.

God. The lilt in your voice makes him shudder and swallow hard, not to mention that the fat of your thighs peek out from under your shirt when you cross your legs. You aren’t aware of this, but that’s his shirt Atsumu has yet to return — but right now he’ll let that go — he gets to see you wear it.

“Mhm, it seems I can’t deny the allegations. Mostly onigiri though. Sorry to disappoint.” He can’t help himself but to flirt with you, his twisted infatuation morphing into a crush now that he’s immersed himself in the real thing. The soft glow of the morning light makes you appear like an angel on his couch.

“Well Mr. Chef, don’t hurt yourself trying to make bacon and eggs,” you muse. While he may be as handsome as Atsumu, he’s different; calmer, wittier, and more adept at ordinary life skills from the looks of it. This man, you reckon, is the sole reason why your sneaky link even has a proper roof over his head.

The conversation flows naturally between you as he prepares the needed ingredients. It ranges from work to his restaurant then back to you again, you find yourself laughing at his jokes and feeling much more comfortable in the apartment than before. There's a certain chemistry that seems to occur between you.

It continues like this for a while, Osamu finding reasons to be at the flat instead of his restaurant so that he may spend time with you, chatting you up over breakfast that he’s prepared. Flirtatious remarks beneath the guise of innocent conversation.

It feels wrong, coming over for one man hoping to see another the next morning, the worst of all being that they have the same face. Yet, they could not be any more contrasting. Where Atsumu forces your submission in his bedroom - Osamu rightfully earns it by tending to you. Sometimes when you look up between your lashes you wish it was dark hair you were seeing instead of platinum.

It’s another quiet Sunday morning in the Miya’s apartment. Your feet feel light as you make your way down the hallway to see him, Osamu. It’s inexplicable to you why there seems to be more cadence in your step with each strut forward, and on queue there he is. Alluring as he sits on the couch in his compression tee.

The same relaxed smile and soft tone, “Mornin’ sweetness, your coffee’s on the table.” You scoop the mug up as you plop down on the forgiving cushion next to him.

“This isn’t a sound business practice, aren’t owners supposed to open their restaurant?” You’re quick to start this morning, craving the stimulating conversation you can only find in him - like he’s some sort of haven amongst the rubble that is your situationship. The guilt does gnaw at you, making the coffee taste even more bitter than usual.

It’s what he’s been waiting for, the foundation begins to crumble and like your hero, he’ll swoop in. “Yes, but lately I’ve been hired as a private chef. The clientele is rather demanding of me if you can believe that,” he retorts while deadpanning in your direction. When he looks at you it feels like you’re bare for his eyes alone. Those cool tone grey eyes that know exactly what you are.

It leaves a lump in your throat that makes it difficult to talk. He continues between sips of his coffee, “she only requests bacon and eggs when I could give her so much more.” It makes your blood rush trying to see through his act, is it literal or innuendo? Nevertheless, you dance around each other avoiding the inevitable for a taste of limbo.

“What’s on the menu then?” You’re content to shove the ball back on his side of the court, intent on making him reveal his cards in a full flush.

The air in the room suffocates you, what seems like a quick conversation plays in slow motion. You’ve always been one to play coy, guarding your heart with quick jabs and humor. He indulges you, plays the game, the one of the cat and the mouse.

But the Miya’s are not coy, not by a long shot. “You.” It’s simple and effective, and he doesn’t miss the hitch in your breath when you realize he’s both literal and figurative.

During this long winded plot of his, Osamu has purposely avoided the topic of Atsumu all together. He doesn’t want to feed the green in his vision, doesn’t want to think of the consequences, he just wants you. Desperately.

It’s like your brain's shut down, the truth is right here in your face but it’s flustering. You’ve won, but why does it feel like you’ve lost? “I— Osamu,” you start, but you just can’t meet his gaze.

“Face it, when you’re with him you’re thinking of me.” The shame washes over you and becomes a pit of despair in your stomach. Your hands bunch the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt as you sit there and face the truth for yourself. The ugly, raring, and raw truth: that you want his hands to roam the canvas of your body, that it’s his lips you want seared into your flesh, that it’s his room you wish you were going into during the wee hours of the night. Not Atsumu’s.

He’s in front of you now, his broad shoulders casting a dubious shadow over you. “Tell me — right here n’ now — that you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone.” But still, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. To be met with that face.

“Osamu, please.” You beg, pawing at his shirt, with tears in your eyes. “Don’t leave,” you feel pathetic, shame eating at you for acting so desperate. You’ve never behaved this way before, not genuinely at least. He drives you crazy, and you’re not willing to let it go so easily.

He thinks he’ll cum in his pants from this little display alone, your honesty and vulnerability fueling his twisted desire. He looks more like his brother than ever before, trademark wicked smirk at the feeling of victory. It’s delightful.

“Shh, pretty thing I’m not gonna quit you,” he says taking your face in his big hand. It’s hot, searing to the touch. The pad of his thumb strokes your plush cheek, “feel what you do to me.”

Osamu takes your hand in his, covering it seamlessly while dragging it up his thigh. He’s hard, incredibly so. It’s almost painful just how bricked he is beneath his pants. “See,” he helps you palm from the base all the way to the tip and you swear you’re dripping onto his couch. He groans softly feeling your delicate hands basically grope him in his shared living room, but fuck does it feel good.

He has to stop himself from grinding into your hand, frantic to finally get some reprieve to this insatiable ache for you. “So, how long,” you ask, not stopping your ministrations.

The air around you has changed, you’ve regained your composure knowing you weren’t alone in your desperation. He hisses when you cup his balls looking for a response, “how long what?”

His face is flushed a wild shade of pink and it’s only heightened by the morning light pouring in through the windows. “Now you want to play coy with me, Osamu Miya? How long have you waited to fuck me behind Atsumu’s back? Was it when he first brought me home,” your hand slides along the fabric smoothly as you rest your head against his hip.

“Maybe it was all those times you made me coffee?” You continue palming him, essentially jacking him off through his pants. “Or maybe when you were listening outside the door?” You squeeze and he lets out a choked whimper.

“Like yer any better slut, jerkin’ me off while you’re under my brothers roof.” He can’t control his tone, country accent raring to go on account of feeling cornered. You make him feel so good he doesn’t want to stop, he’s never been this hard in his life.

You hum, pleased with his response. “Such a nasty mouth for a chef. Do you speak to your customers this way?” He’s pulling himself out of his pants before you get the chance, his tip angry and red, soaked with precious pre.

It makes your mouth water, you’re eye level with his cock and all you want is to make yourself gag on it. “Nah, just the pretty ones with a bratty mouth. So show me what you can do hot stuff.”

Spitting directly on his head you drag the bulb down to his base with your tongue, watching as he shudders from your seated position. You place your hands on either side of his hips as you take him fully in your mouth, lapping the salty taste up trying to replace it with your own. “Dirty lil thing, you do this for him?”

The possession in his voice is palpable but you give him a taste of his own medicine. “Nah, only for the handsome ones who are smartasses,” releasing him from your mouth makes a pop sound. You jerk him in one hand as you belittle him, smiling with spit dribbling down your chin.

He thinks he might be in love with you, isn’t that funny. A woman who can reduce him to mere putty that’s rightfully not his, how raunchy. It makes Osamu’s balls pulse uncomfortably.

You’re a vixen, sent to entice him with your every move and fluid jerk of your wrist. He has to stop now or he’ll cum too fast, he wants this moment to last forever. The way you worship him and his cock, the way your smart mouth makes his head swim, and how warm your hands are on his bare skin.

Osamu Miya has never felt so greedy in his entire life. He hasn’t felt the need to ask anything this demanding of his brother, but what’s Atsumu’s is Osamu’s. Right? What’s a quick fuck to one is a wife to another, and with the way you’re sucking him off he might just have to put a ring on it.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself from your hot mouth before he’s able to spill down your throat. He taps the tip of his cock against your lips insultingly with a grin, “Enough, so damn desperate yer gonna choke on it.”

He’s mean but it excites you, Atsumu has never spoken to you like this only really going through the motions. You can’t help how your pussy clenches involuntarily around nothing nor can you stop the heat from rising to your face as you draw your thighs together. You sit there, staring at each other with bated breaths as the reality of what you’re doing sets in.

But if you thought that was going to deter him, you are sorely mistaken. He practically falls to his knees to get a taste of your lips against his, resting his upper body between your legs on the couch. Osamu groans tasting himself on your tongue as he invades your mouth.

You’re slobbering all over each other in a heated attempt to engulf one another. He grabs the back of your thighs while you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s like months of desperate mutual yearning have come to fruition and neither of you will let up. Not even for air.

You’re not wearing any panties and you’re sure your cunts drooling all over the place as he sucks kisses down your neck and collarbones. “Osamu—” you whine quietly, only for him to hear. His tongue licks and prods at your sensitive skin giving you goosebumps. It’s so hot and heavy you can’t make any sense of yourself just from some simple kisses.

He’s reduced you to nothing with minimal effort, wildly different from other sexual encounters you’ve had. “I need more of you Osamu, please,” and it’s the sweetest words he’s ever heard uttered. You’re absolutely perfect, just for him.

“Of course love, whatever you need.” His hands begin to spread your legs apart as another gush of slick pours out of you from the pet name alone. “I bet he doesn’t even know what to do with this, doesn’t know how to make you feel good like I can.”

If that’s a promise, you need him to fulfill it. His words are heavy in your ears as you watch him take his shirt off, they weigh in your chest threatening to drag you down with him. He spreads your puffy folds apart with his thumb, getting a good look at you and letting out coos of praise. “Yer so fuckin wet I can see it,” he dips into your warmth only slightly, marveling at the slick that coats his fingers.

He eyes them and you try to stop him before he does what you think he’s gonna do. “Don’t do that, it’s nasty,” you say trying to grab his hand.

But he swats you away, appraising the translucent liquid by spreading his fingers apart before sticking them in his mouth. “Mhm, n’ you taste as good as you look.”

He loves this look on you, the horror written all over your face as he sucks them clean. A chef never wastes a proper meal, and he’s still fuckin hungry.

Osamu yanks you down the couch to be as close as possible, he can feel the heat radiating from your cunt with just his face above it. He can tell you’ve never had someone properly eat you out by the way you’re so scared to let him even play around with you, and that lights a fire under his ass.

He dives tongue first into your folds, purposely avoiding the spot you need him the most. The moan you let out is a stark comparison to anything he’s heard from you before, but he can’t have you spoiling the fun already.

So he’ll kiss you instead, forcing you to taste yourself and groan into his maw while his fingers work magic in your cunt. Your nails find purchase in the skin of his back as he holds your leg open with one hand and slides his middle finger inside you with another. He pulls back, gauging your reaction for any discomfort as he works it in and out of your sopping heat.

“So messy for me baby, god I love it,” but he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at where his finger slips inside you; making you watch as his knuckles disappear before sliding in another.

The second digit proving to be a stretch for you as you cry into his mouth about how good it feels, “so good ‘samu, just a little faster.”

That’s when he curls them upwards, toying the rougher patch of your g-spot with the pads of his middle and ring finger. The force at which you try to close your legs and dig your nails into his skin lets him know he’s in the right place. “Gotta stay quiet sweetheart, can ya do that for me?”

You don’t know how you could be, with the way he’s listening to your body he’s managed to play its perfect tune. But you nod, covering your mouth with your hand obediently as he descends between your legs again.

Finally, he pays mind to your puffy clit. Giving it kitten licks while his fingers are still making a sloppy mess of you down below. He groans sending vibrations through you in the act of suckling your bud between his lips.

It’s muffled, but he can hear you chanting his name as he throughly wrecks you with just his mouth and hands. It causes white hot pleasure to settle in the belly of you as you writhe and try and to run away from it. He won’t let you, forcing your legs apart even wider.

You’re cumming on his fingers before you even know it. Leaving red welts on his shoulder as you go limp on the couch. “Just keep cumming for me pretty. Let go,” his low calm voice centers you when you begin to twitch against your will.

You’ve rarely ever truly came when fucking Atsumu, but Osamu has you pleading for mercy as he thumbs your clit through the aftershocks.

He lets you catch your breath, helping you remove the oversized shirt from over your head. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he says while thumbing your chin, and kissing your tits tenderly. His eyes reassure you from between the valley of your breasts.

You’re appreciative of his masked concern, “then stop talking, and start doing.” The fight in you is exactly why he wanted you in the first place.

“To think this gorgeous pussys been wasted,” he tsks. “Don’tcha worry yer pretty head baby, I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He stands up, removing the rest of his clothing and putting you on the couch how he wants you. Obviously, he was going to go for missionary, all so that you could see him in the act of claiming you as his own.

You know you’re in trouble with Osamu when he slips into his country accent, it’s involuntary but it’s his true nature. You’re placed onto your back by his big arms, most likely from carrying heavy bags of rice everyday at his job. You can’t help but ogle at the thin layer of sweat that coats him, and he smiles. So charming.

He begins by lining himself with your entrance, teasing the ring of muscle with the tip of his cock. It makes you whine, needy for more but he won’t just take you. No, he uses your pussy to lube himself up. “For fucks sake ‘Samu just put it in please,” you think using a nickname on him will work like it does with Atsumu.

But Osamu is in control of himself and his desires (for the most part), he’ll rut his hips into your sticky labias, running over your sensitive clit with the underside of himself. “So needy, jus’ watch” he tilts your chin downwards to make you gaze at where your bodies nearly meet.

He’s going to break you before anything else. The sight is turning you on beyond belief, his body tensing and releasing with every slow drawl of his lazy hips. “How bad d’ya want me? Tell me n’ I’ll fuck you slut.”

The way in which he carries himself warns you to not mess with him, submit. It’s all in his face, the restraint, the power, the control. You want to break down and beg him for everything so that he may see you for what you truly are in those grey eyes. “I think about you every time I come over here, every time you’ve poured me coffee or made my eggs I’ve wanted you. ‘Samu I need you s’bad please..”

You feel him physically twitch and groan lowly at your confession. He wasn’t expecting all that but it certainly does stroke his ego. Osamu pinches your nipple slightly as he grins. “Yeah baby, you wish it was me touchin’ you,” its rhetorical. He’ll reward you though, ‘fer bein so damn good’.

He feels heavenly entering you, it makes your toes curl when you hear him sigh into a slow pace. He takes his time with you, working you up to fully enjoy your experience with him. “You feel so good, fuck.. n’ your pussy’s so warm,” he says while tightening the grip on the back of your knees.

Everything is hitting you at once and it’s getting hotter by the second, your heavy breaths hitting his face as you accept him in full. It’s a snug fit and the curve of him feels just right in your walls, fuck you need him closer.

“I want you,” is all that comes out between soft whimpers. And he obliges, folding you in half and guiding your arms to hang around his shoulders. He feels so deep inside you that you can’t even see straight. His face is red with his brows drawn together in pleasure.

You try and keep quiet but the muffled sound of skin against skin keeps ringing in your ears along with the slosh of your cunt. “Lettin’ me pound you raw too, should just let me have ya. I know I’m fuckin’ you better than him.”

His words are like fire on your skin, burning you from the inside out. Your walls flutter and convulse around him as he snickers. It registers that you can feel all of him and you whine. The flood gates threaten to spill.

“I— Osamu s’good, oh my god!” He revels in the fact it almost sounds like you’re in pain from how much satisfaction you’re feeling, because of him. It’s his name you’re wailing, not Atsumu’s.

You dig your nails deeper, certain to draw blood as you're needy more of him. The band in you is threatening to snap. He’s close too, quickening the rate at which he barrels into you. Reaching deeper and deeper as he makes eye contact with you. It’s so intimate that you feel yourself succumbing.

“Where do you wan’ it baby,” his eyes are glossed over with lust and his voice thick with desire. There’s only one place you want him, inside.

It’s like music to his ears, he’s spilling his seed in hot thick ropes as he stills himself balls deep inside you. You unravel, biting your lip as you squeeze him tighter than a vice, he’s groaning and shallowly pumping into your shaking form.

You never knew missionary on a sofa could feel so fucking good, he looks at you with such care in his eyes that you melt.

Osamu helps you clean up, apologizing for the frothy ring of cum on his base and the mess that pours out of you. He’s "a sucker for a cream pie" is what he tells you.

Things between you couldn’t remain as they were, you both knew that know after you practically devoured each other right down the hall from Atsumu’s room.

He brings you to his space, letting you shower and wipe yourself down (not without groping your curves between steps). You talk about what you should say or how to even go about it over breakfast he made, but this time you're wearing his shirt.

It’s safe to say Atsumu was not pleased losing one of his favorite fucks, but in some weird way he’s not completely pissed. He’s never seen Osamu so fucking selfish n' greedy before, so he must be pretty serious about you. In time he’ll forgive him, even swing by the restaurant to see you two.

“How’s it feel havin’ my seconds,” he’ll taunt behind your back to Osamu when you’re not around. Jutting his elbow into his brothers side.

Osamu rolls his eyes, “still bitter it’s my cock she’s begging for every night I see. Get better soon.” He knows you’re happier with him, sending a hardened look at Atsumu.

They both smile as you approach the table with snacks, dropping whatever argument as you greet them. “Hello Miya and better Miya.”

Osamu snickers, kissing your left hand with his engagement ring on it. Atsumu just grumbles under his breath. “Hello Mrs. Miya,” they both say in unison.

[kasssscali]

could we get some general jax x reader hc's? like how he acts around his crush, how he maybe goes about confessing, if at all bc i feel like he'd be the type to draw it out for a good while just to mess with the object of his affections/torment

It takes time for Jax to develop feelings for you, he really has to know someone well enough

and for the longest time he’s in denial when it comes to his feelings for you

he’ll start to get kind of grabby when he has a crush on you, he might try to make small talk by wrapping an arm around your shoulder

he is a lot taller than you, he will definitely grab your stuff and hold it above his head laughing at your pathetic attempts to get it back

it becomes kind of obvious he’s pretty drawn to you, when anyone confronts him about it, his response is always

“don’t know what your talkin’ about” or “what kind of sucker do you take me for? Romance and feelings ain’t really my thing”

it takes him forever to finally have the realization dawned on him that he actually likes you more than he thinks he does

At first he obviously saw you as someone just to mess with, and those feelings grew into a thought of Maybe they Aren’t so bad, until Why can’t I get them Out of my head?!

He’s not that experienced with that type of stuff, hell he doesn’t even go as near as to talk about whatever is bothering him

He’s mad at you that you made him feel this way, and since he doesn’t like to talk about whats bothering him he brings such a sour mood to the circus

He sulks a lo, and just giving everyone bad attitude over everything. He’s not taking this well, instead of making little snarky comments when he wants to, his usual responses are now “Yeah…”

”mhm…”

”sure Thing” followed by an eye role

it’s not exactly like Jax to just sulk around everywhere, yeah sometimes he was snarky and quick to just be a total jackass when it wasn’t necessary

but he was acting so different, now he’s just mad

Everyone in the circus has now tried to talk to him about it, the one who actually got to him was Zooble believe it or not

Zooble could instantly put two and two together and quickly found out what was bothering him

it was you

Jax was denying everything Zooble said, it got to the point Zooble actually snapped at him

He could either tell you how he was feeling, or get over you and drop the attitude

That really got to Jax, he wasn’t showing it and continued to pretend like Zooble was just making stuff up, but what Z said really got to him

Its a good thing that Zooble eventually left because it gives Jax a minute to think

he doesn’t have anyone around him to fake his feelings for, its just him

It takes FOREVER for him to confess to you, and when he does he does it so casual

After Zooble talked to him, he was quickly back to his old self

honestly no one missed that

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him sly over to you, smirk and all. “Heya! You seem to be kinda alone right now~” He laughs at you in a taunting matter “Say… how about you and me have dinner tonight, what do you say?~”

if you agree, he’ll make it seem like its no big deal when deep down it makes his heart pound

if you say no, he’ll immediately go back to sulking until Zooble has to help him out again

the choice is yours

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

lovely weather for a bonfire tonight!! congrats on 5k you beautiful beautiful writer 🫶🏼🫶🏼

can i please get forced proximity with remus 🤭

Thanks for requesting gorgeous!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 874 words

You look up at the sound of movement in the stacks, and you groan when you connect the dots. 

“You’re joking.” 

Remus lifts his brows as slides into the seat across from you, the scar next to his eye stretching with the movement. “You look surprised to see me.” 

“Slughorn told me he’d ‘connect me’ with a tutor.” You roll your eyes, dragging your thumb and forefinger over the feather of your quill so it ruffles. “He didn’t tell me it’d be one of Gryffindor’s golden boys.” 

“He might have suspected you wouldn’t accept the help.” You scoff but don’t deny it, and Remus starts taking books out of his bag, one amber eye on you. “I’m a bit surprised you need tutoring, to be honest.” 

“I barely do,” you say, hating how petulant the lie sounds as soon as it’s out of your mouth. “I just like to stay on top of things. Don’t want to fall behind.” 

He hums, a soft curl to his bottom lip as he sets his books down on the wooden table. “Suppose that’s how you’ve always stayed right on my heels.” 

“I’m going to pass you in charms this year,” you reply reflexively. Then heat rises to your face, because you very well might, but Remus will likely pass you in potions. Though the two of you have been nearly neck-and-neck for marks since you got to Hogwarts, you’ve always been better than him in potions, at least until now. 

Remus must see the shift in your mood. His posture changes, and you hate the gentleness of his tone when he says, “You probably will. So, what are we working on?” 

You huff out a breath. “Um, I’m supposed to be brewing an antidote to this poison Slughorn gave me.” 

“Okay, and what’s the problem?”

You glare at him, but Remus only looks at you steadily. “I don’t know what the poison is, much less how to find the antidote. I’ve memorized every poison in our textbook, and it doesn’t seem like any of them.” 

“It may not be in the book,” he says, voice lower and far less sharp than yours. “Do you have it with you?” 

You dig in your bag, retrieving the small vial of liquid. It’s clear but thick, a sludge that sticks to the edges of the glass when you try to swirl it. Remus takes it from you. 

“It’s not about knowing what the poison is so much as what’s in it.” He removes the stopper, sniffing tentatively at the semi-liquid stuff inside. “Once you can figure out some of the key ingredients, you can use other ingredients to nullify those in your antidote.” He holds it out a few inches from your nose. “Smell.” 

You lean directly over it and breathe in, and instantly, instinctively, recoil back into your seat. You feel your face scrunch up, throat convulsing in a gag. 

“Fuck,” you choke out, “is that how it kills you?” 

Remus chuckles, and the sound tickles down your spine like a grazing touch. 

“You did that on purpose,” you accuse. 

“It wasn’t on purpose, but it was entertaining.” 

“Dick.” 

He grins. It’s an effort not to return it. “How did it smell?” 

“Rank. As if you don’t know.” 

Remus’ grin worsens. “I mean what did it smell like, love.” 

“Oh.” You ignore the way your heart stutters at the endearment, slipped in at the end of his statement like it’s automatic. “Um, kinda like piss? But mustier.” 

“Good.” Your tutor’s voice is coaxing. He leans his elbows on the table, his eyes on yours. “What common ingredient in poisons does that remind you of?” 

The realization must show on your face, because Remus’ lips twist upwards before you even speak. “Hemlock,” you breathe. 

“There you are,” he says, nearly as quietly. “And what is the easiest ingredient to counteract hemlock with?” 

“Bezoar.” You tilt your head back, covering your face with your hands. Remus laughs again, and you hear him stoppering the vial. “I can’t believe I’ve spent all week agonizing over this, and it was that simple. I just need to make a potion with bezoar?” 

“And preferably a few other things to counteract the less fatal side effects, but yeah.” You lower your hands and Remus is giving you a knowing look, almost proud, as he passes you back the vial. “See, you managed it.” 

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. 

“I think you’re getting too in your head about needing to memorize everything,” he says, propping his chin on a hand. And he looks nice like this. Boyish, like someone you could honestly enjoy talking to. His hair pushes up above his ear. “You’re a hard worker, but you need to give yourself some credit for your intuition, too. You knew what the poison was once you let yourself think about it, you were just too focused on the facts to get there without help.” 

“You shouldn’t be telling me this.” You feel a smile tugging at your lips. “I’m just going to use the knowledge to beat you out in potions and everything else, you know. Being nice to me doesn’t get you a free pass.” 

Remus’ eyes crackle with challenge. “Wouldn’t expect any different.”

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Peach Part 1 of 2 (Rafe Cameron Two Shot) +18

+ 18 Minor DNI

CollegeStudent!Rafe x Ward’sSugarBaby!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Rafe has a thing for his dad’s sugar baby (reader)

🪄 Warnings: somnophilia (lol), secluded yet public oral, cheating, swearing, degradation, name-calling, pet names, oral (fem. receiving), oral (male receiving), ownership kink, reader’s a sugar baby, rough sex, nipple play, choking, creampie, & cum play, no use of y/n but everyone refers to her as the pet name Peach, softish rafe but he’s kinda mean here and ther

✨ Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation. ✨

2K

Reader’s POV:

“I mean it is a little much for Midsommers, Peach, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Ward gives you a cheeky smile as he unwinds a little more on the dressing room couch, eyes combing over your curves from the reflection of the mirror. “I love dressing you up, princess. Love showing off my little doll around the fellas. Can you blame me? You’re flawless.” He winks and smiles as he lifts his champagne flute to his lips, taking a sip.

“Thank you. I love it,” you praise, running your hands down the delicate black satin, purposely running over the fullness of your breasts, guiding his focus off your eyes. “I think this will go really well with those black Jimmy Choo pumps you bought me.”

Ward smiles and shakes his head ‘no’ as he crosses his strong arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m going let you re-wear a pair of date night heels, baby? We need to buy you somethin’ new. You deserve it. Very sweet for you to be mindful of Daddy’s pocket,” he lauds as he taps the wallet tucked into the pocket of his designer blazer. “That’s just one of the many, many reasons you have my heart, sugar,” Ward mumbles as he rises to his feet, eyes trained on your body. “That, and the fact that I just can’t believe you’re mine,” he mumbles before his lips meet your neck, kissing gently as he works his way to your ear. “I love takin’ care of you.” You tip your head slightly, resting your cheek against his, the two of you matching each other’s gaze in the mirror.

“We look good together, Cameron,” you coo. He wraps his arms around you, kissing your bare shoulder before resting his chin on top.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, Peach. This looks so pretty on you. You’re stunning. You probably need something just as pretty underneath. Don’t you agree?”

You nuzzle into his cheek, making him chuckle warmly. “You spoil me, daddy… Of course, I agree. Something pretty you can take off me later,” you flirt, just stoking the fire.

“Baby girl…” He gushes, the apples of his cheeks reddening.

“Sorry… I can’t help it.”

“No, baby. I love it. Oh, I booked a hair and nail appointment for you, so I won’t see you until you arrive. I have to be at the Island Club a little early. You can just catch a ride with Rafe. I’ll meet you at the car and we can walk in together. Alright?”

You fix your face, trying your best to seem unfazed by even the mere mention of his son’s name.

Rafe Cameron…

Truthfully, I was about to make my move during parents’ weekend. Then, I laid eyes on Ward. Rafe’s old man… handsome, sweet, thoughtful. It was too hard to pass up the chance to be taken care of. And, taken care of I was. Student loan debt canceled, school-year paid in cash, trips, lavish dinners, anything and everything his little Peach wants she gets. But even with all of that, I can’t help but be drawn to Rafe. I still get butterflies when he passes me on his way to class or when he looks my way in the library.

Even after I got with Ward I’d still try to finagle my way into staying on campus for the weekend so I could hit up a house party or bump into him at the bar. Ward made sure that didn’t happen, pleading with me to spend most of my free time at Tanneyhill. Ward is so sweet when he begs. And, how can I possibly deny the man cutting the checks?

“Peach? Is that okay? He seemed pretty happy about getting to know you a little better,” Ward smiles as he fixes the strap of your gown.

“No, Daddy. It’s perfect.”

You look down at the vanity, watching your phone buzz. Your heart skips a beat as you see his name written across it, causing the usual butterflies to swirl. How would this play out? What would Rafe say?

To the rest of the family I was just some girl; maybe someone Ward picked up at the country club or some overpriced boutique downtown. Sarah and Wheezie were too unbothered to care. How would Rafe take this? Would he even recognize me?

The buzzing stops, pulling you out of your daze as you watch the incoming call shift to missed. Shit. Headlights beam outside as Rafe’s large truck rolls up the drive just as your phone dings. Voicemail – Rafe Cameron You lift the phone to your ear, hearing that familiar voice.

“Uhh… Peach? It’s Ward’s son, Rafe. I’m out front if you’re ready to head out. Don’t know if you need a few more minutes or whatever. Just let me know.” BEEP. The message ends, the eldest Cameron’s tone short and uninterested. Maybe he knows who I am and truly doesn’t care.

You look down at your body, wrapped in a pretty pink robe; dress still hanging up in the corner of Ward’s room. It had been a long day of shopping and pampering, leaving you late. The muffled sound of Rafe’s truck door kickstarts your heart. You unfasten the bow around your waist, letting the material fall off your body and onto a puddle on the floor as you hustle toward your gown.

You step into the number, stumbling slightly; looping the delicate straps over your shoulders before smoothing out the front.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Umm… One second, Rafe,” you call.

“Of course.” You hear his deep voice in person, making you suck in a nervous breath. Reaching behind your back you struggle for the zipper, craning your wrist to get it to close. “Uhh… You need some help in there?” Rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you stand in front of the mirror again, looking back at yourself dumbly.

Of course, I want his help. I’m sure if I struggle a little more I could get it to word. But do I want to?

“Rafe,” you call out his name, voice broken with nervousness. “I could use your help.”

Rafe’s POV:

What the actual fuck. I stand behind her, eyes falling down the length of her bare back to her open zipper. Nothing but soft skin and satin; the small zipper resting just below her g-string. I’ve gotta move slowly. No way I could step out from behind her like this. My hard-on pushes against my dress pants, straining the zipper. I let my fingers trail her skin ever so slightly, tugging the material together reluctantly before pulling it closed.

I had no idea it was going to be her when she accepted my offer… Lucky me.

“How are you, sweetheart,” I mumble from behind her, catching her gaze in the mirror.

“Umm… I’m good. How are you?” She asks sweetly.

“Great. I’m fine,” I hum, not moving from my place behind her, ambling a little closer. I can’t fucking help myself. Her lashes flutter at the closeness between the two of us. “Just came from campus.”

“Yeah? Umm… We go to the same school,” she starts, like I wasn’t painfully aware.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do. I know exactly who you are. And you and my dad are-”

“Dating?” She answers, her calm demeanor veiling her shame, just a sliver of it still peeking through. “No. We’re friends? Companions… I-”

I let out a raspy chuckle, saving her the strain as she flounder in front of me, panic painting her beautiful face. “Nah, Peach. I understand,” I smirk. She lifts her eyebrow, letting out an airy laugh herself. “He’s battin’ way out of his league with you. I must say.”

I lean in a little closer, letting the warmth of my voice fan across the column of her neck, making her head fall back slightly as she tilts closer. My large hands rest on her hips, all my primal urges pushing me to bend her over, hands on the glass, dress around her hips, my fat cock fucking in and out as I watch her go absolutely dumb on my dick. But I resist.

Why the fuck are you with Ward? You’re too beautiful… You’re only wasting your time with my old man. What is he givin’ you that I can’t? Money? Is that what you’re after, babydoll?

Good thing I have that too.

“Nice to see you, man,” Kelce smiles as he pulls me in for a half-hug, cutting off my view of her. I pull him to the side, giving me the perfect sightline.

Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation.

She looks down, eyeing her clutch as she feels the rumble of her phone. Her eyes lift, catching mine like she knows exactly what’s to come, without seeing the message at all. I give her a knowing nod as I stroll away.

In a room full of people she knows just where I am. She’s got her eye on me. Atta girl.

Reader’s POV

Well… if there was any question if that text was from Rafe or not that nod answered my question. My excitement leaves a steady pulse between my thighs as I try my best to act normally. He’s trying to get me alone.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” you whisper in Ward’s ear, kissing him gently on the cheek before wiping some sparkly gloss off his stubble. He gives you a little pat on your bum and a wink.

“Gonna finish up this conversation, Peach, and I’ll find you. M’Kay?” He hums. “15 minutes tops.”

“Of course,” you smile, nodding quickly before excusing yourself, nabbing out your phone as you step toward where Rafe was headed, rushing to read what he had to say.

Holy shit.

Your phone glows as you reread the text messages sent by Rafe wandering down the hallway as you take in each word, considering your options. Am I doing this? Should I turn him down? Let him know he read this all wrong? That he’s overstepping-

“There she is,” you hear his low voice from behind you. His large hand wraps around your arm, tugging you back fast, pulling you into the dark room before slamming the lock shut.

“Rafe?” You gasp just as his lips collide with yours, the two of you running high on adrenaline; teeth clashing, tongues rolling. Your long nails scratch through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him moan into your kiss as he backs you against the wooden door.

“Didn’t even take any convincing to get you back here, baby girl. What do you have to say for yourself?” He mumbles against your lips as he paws for the bottom of your dress, bunching it up higher and higher.

“Rafe. I-”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, princess. You want me. I need you. Bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me. You gonna let me check?” He rasps, catching your moans between his lips.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want,” he taunts as his lips brush yours, his rough fingers grazing the soaked spot on your panties.

“I want you, Rafe. I want your… Fuck. I want your fingers,” you whimper, starting small, knowing full-well he’ll talk you into more; just making yourself feel less guilty about the whole ordeal by asking for the bare minimum like that even matters.

“Just my fingers. Huh?” He teases. Not buying the angelic ruse for a moment. “You don’t want my lips, doll? You don’t need my cock?”

“Shit,” you whine as your legs draw together; his filthy words fillling you ear, drunk off the taste of his lips, just thinking about more. Rafe grips your thighs, opening you up further before pressing his fingers against your sex. Your head falls back, knocking softly against the door as a drawn-out moan tumbles from your lips.

“Did that get you a little excited?” He chuckles, darkly against your neck, licking and nipping at that special spot that has you whimpering like a pathetic slut.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I got excited, Rafe… I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you whisper.

“Mhmm… Haven’t stopped thinking about me and my fingers?” He bullies as he lifts you into his arms. You wrap yours around his neck, lessening the space between you further, your wetness surely transferring onto his white button-down as your legs wrap around his trim waist.

“Yeah,” you stammer, making Rafe suck his teeth and smile against your mouth.

“Stop trying to be a good girl, princess. I know what you are,” he growls. Your heart falls, breaking slightly as he hits you with the truth; Rafe opening his mouth before you can even defend yourself. “You want money… I want you. I can take care of you in more ways than one. I promise that. Got more money than him. I’m a better fuck. Let me prove it to you, angel. I know you’re a slut for cash alright. So am I. The game sees the game alright? But, you probably need proof… Let me fuck this pretty pussy, ma. Show you how much better off you’ll be with me. I wanna be your daddy. Aight? Not him. Not Ward. Rafe.”

You draw a deep breath, head spinning as he lays you back on the locker room couch. You claw for him, desperate for Rafe’s lips on you again. Rafe rips away your little lace panties, spreading your thighs before eyeing your glistening slit with a hungry groan. “Tell me what you want. You can speak. Can’t you?” He snaps impatiently as you fumble over your words. “Words.”

“You-”

“Fuck it. I can’t wait – need your pussy.”

“S-Shit,” you whine. “Just – Just your fingers Rafe…” He brushes your dripping folds with his thick digits, gathering your essence before stuffing them in his mouth, sucking them clean as his eyes roll back. “Let me eat you, baby. C’mon,” he pleads. You watch him wet his bottom lip, savoring the taste of whatever’s left of you.

“Damnit, Rafe. Your lips too… Fuck. Hurry. Your dad’s meeting me soon.”

“Little now. Little later,” he huffs as his strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, lowering you onto the cushion. Rafe’s gaze stays on yours as his lips latch on your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side.

He moans against your cunt as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing you with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him. “Enough of that,” he slurs, spreading your legs wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more muscle. “Can’t wait for you to suck my cock. Can’t wait to get you off,“ he mumbles against your heat. You look toward the door, watching a shadow pass underneath. The music blares from behind it. Is it loud enough? You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.

“You taste like heaven, honey,” he pants, bumping his nose against your clit as his tongue dips into your hole. Rafe grabs your legs, slinging them over his broad shoulders, getting even closer. He laps at your pussy, devouring you. Rafe breathes deeply, taking in your scent, eyes shutting softly, the vibration of a moan felt against your cunt. He takes your clit in his mouth sucking hard, making you cry out, spiked heels digging into his strong back as you buck your hips.

“Fuck, Rafe. M’right there,” you blubber. You reach for your dress straps, tugging down the top, letting your tits bounce free. Your hands instantly draw up to your chest, clutching and pushing them together. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit, making you toss your head back. Strangled cries spills from your lips. Your hands drop down, weaving into his blonde fringe giving it a rough tug as you grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself wavering on the edge of bliss.

“Peach?” You hear Ward call from outside the door, making your eyes double in horror. Rafe doesn’t stop, increasing his pace even. His eyes flick to yours, solidifying the evident. He wants Ward to hear. Your hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your cries. Rafe reaches up, snatching your wrist as your body betrays you, eyes screwing shut at you cum on Rafe’s tongue, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you’re fully relaxed to release you with a panting breath. His mouth greets yours in a passionate kiss, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He pinches and rolls your nipples between his rough fingers before sucking down; trailing sweet kisses causing you to mewl.

“You’re mine,” Rafe whispers, nestling himself into your neck.

“Not… Fuck. Rafe, I’m not.”

“You are. Stop lyin’, princess. You know you are,” he subsists as he matches your eyes. “Lie to me and tell me that wasn’t the best you’ve ever had. I didn’t even use my dick, baby. Imagine what I could do. Huh? I know my old man isn’t doin’ any of this shit better than me.” You fight for air, looking away for a moment before he grabs your chin, demanding your focus. “Fuckin’ talk to me. Use those pretty little words that you’re holdin’ back. Enough with the games. It was painfully easy to get you in here. I know what you want-”

“Rafe… I don’t know-” Your phone vibrates, stealing your attention as well as Rafe’s as you watch back-to-back text messages come in from Ward.

Part 2

[miley1442111]

thank god for dr. spencer reid

a/n: this was written with a fem!reader in mind but imagine what you want, reader has a period (same girl) :) spencer us such a cutie in this :)))))))

summary: your shitty family is in town and spencer is away, what will you do?

pairing: spencerreid x reader

warnings: heavy family issues, mentions of stress and sickness, very brief mention of abuse (litch not talked about just referenced dw), kinda cursing (just realised i've never warned this before... opps) and i might've missed some!

My eyes are glued to the screen with a perpetual frown playing on my lips. It’s hard to try to care about my job when I have this looming feeling of dread hanging over me like a cloud. Spencer has been MIA for days now. He left in a hurry on Monday night for a case. It’s Saturday now and he hasn’t been responding to my calls. On top of that, I have dinner with my mother and father. Both of them make it abundantly clear that they’re disappointed in my career choice, which is ridiculous because I’m a lawyer. Not the right kind of lawyer they constantly say. I’m an environmental lawyer and I make good money. The only way to satiate their insufferable whining is with Spencer. They love him. They probably love him more than me at this point. Alas, I will just have to deal with them alone tonight. And today has already been one hell of a day. First, Morgan called me,asking where Spencer was, telling me that they finished and that they should be home soon. He had not come home yet. Secondly, I feel like shit, an allergic reaction, my period and some random nausea all add up to making me feel itchy, gross, and practically vile all over. Thirdly, a huge pimple has decided to pop up on my face and  just know my mother will comment on it. My mother is one of those women who look effortlessly put-together 24/7. I am not one of those women. She does not like women who don’t look effortlessly put together. Aka, she barely tolerates me. 

I sigh and close my laptop screen, unable to reread the same few sentences again and again, hoping that they would get into my brain. I’m defending a client, one of my firm's biggest clients, in court next week. They were accused of illegal dumping (dumping they did not commit) and now they’re being sued for 2 million dollars. I slump out of my desk chair and out of my home office, locking it behind me for the weekend ahead. If I have court next week and Spencer is coming home after a difficult case, then we’ll need a day or rest and relaxation together. That is, if he even bothers to come home. I busy myself with getting ready and try to push those thoughts out of my head. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last hour of my life has been 60 minutes of absolute misery. Why did I ever accept this invite? My mother excuses herself to the bathroom and my father excuses himself for a cigarette, I nod along. Then it hits me… my dad doesn’t smoke anymore. I stare at the door and before I can stop myself my face contorts into a frown once again. Amelia, my sister. The sister that I haven't seen in years. The sister that bullied and abused me throughout our teenage years. Fuck. 

“Amelia?” I question, looking at the blonde woman who looks… different. She’s obviously older than I remember, and a bit more… I don’t know how to put it. Her blonde hair surpasses her waist and she seems to be pregnant? Her blue eyes seem dull and lack a certain vividness they used to sparkle with. She’s the typical peaking in high-school mean girl who became a nurse girl. I honestly can’t believe I used to look up to her. 

“It’s so good to see you!” She smiles, one of her fake-bitchy smiles and I grimace as she tries to hug me. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, especially with the baby on the way, I’ll need all the help I can get!”

My heart drops. “Oh!” Is all I can manage. She sits in the seat beside me and I instinctively move further away. Just as I think this stupid dinner can’t get any worse, her pervy fiancé, Johnny, walks in.

“No Spencer?” He smirks. “What? Did you two break up? He was always too vanilla for you, you need a real man-” 

“No, sorry. I was just late. I had to come straight from the jet,” Spencer smiles from behind him. My parents' eyes light up, as Amelia and Johnny’s faces fall. I smile appreciatively at him as he hands the flowers he brought over to my parents and sits beside me, a comforting hand on my thigh. 

“How’s work, Spencer?” My father asks, his undivided attention on Spencer.

“It’s good, strenuous but good. Our cases recently haven’t been too difficult- though there was one that had a puzzle I thought you might enjoy…”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk inside our house behind him, a million thoughts at once flowing through my head. We walk to the kitchen, he sits me down and takes off my shoes for me, a true gentleman. 

He presses a kiss to my cheek and smiles. “You look beautiful.”

I just nod back, a small smile on my lips. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, turning to me, his hands resting on my waist. 

“Fine,” I tiredly smile. “Just… you know, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You know, saying that makes me worry more, right?:” He smiles softly, though we both know he’s serious. 

“I just… I can’t believe she just showed up, like 7 years  of not seeing her and she just shows up? Like it’s casual? And then asks for our help with her baby? Like she did nothing to me? Like she-” I stop myself, determined not to cry right now. 

“Angel, it’s ok, let it out,” he soothes, a hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles. 

“I don’t want to cry though, they’re not worth crying over.”

“Then how about we get ready for bed, yeah angel?” He offers, a tired look in his eyes. I nod and press a soft to his perfect lips. He smiles against my mouth, his hands finding the sides of my face. I run a hand through his hair. He pulls away softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I smile. “Thank you for coming, my knight in shining armour.” 

“I enjoyed it. Watching your father fail to solve a simple puzzle was amusing.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as I roll my eyes. 

“We’re not all geniuses,” I remind him. 

“You are.”

“And how am I a genius?” I chuckle.

“You’re dating me, you clearly have superior taste and intelligence,” he says matter-of-factly. I gigle at his antics and kiss him again. He pulls away and grabs my hand, leading me into our room. We both opt out of brushing our teeth and washing our faces, a makeup wipe sufficing for removing my makeup. He pulls me into bed with him, and finally, after a long week, I finally lie down in bed with him, his arms around me in a bear-hug of sorts. This is heaven. He’s my knight in shining armour. Thank God for Dr. Spencer Reid. 

[abowlofsourcream]

⏳💫Congrats, Everyone! You got “Memory of Sailing!”💫⏳

You will never forget this!

…

Oh… Don’t take this to heart. It’s not really your fault! If anything…

He should have known better…

Tw: Panic Attack and Blood!

v Aftermath v

*You didn’t realize what was happening until Siffrin choked out blood.

*It was all such a burr…

*Madame Odile was the one who catched him.

*Isabeau immediately rushed to their side.

“SAY IT BRIGHT ONE!”

*The King’s pain voice, destroyed by blood, rours in your ears.

*Siffrin tries again and another cough of blood comes out.

“SIFFRIN! YOU NEED TO STOP!”

*Odile demands, however her usual confidences wasn’t there.

*Bonnie was crying, scared of what’s happening.

*All you are able to do is stand there.

“PLEASE! SIFFRIN, PLEASE! YOU CAN’T!”

*Isabeau begs with tears in his eyes, his voice breaking.

*You’ve never see him like that…

“SAY IT’S NAME, BRIGHT ONE!”

*You see Siffrin’s arm weakly raised to the ceiling.

“It’s… Name…”

* no.

“Is-!”

*please, don’t…

*Both the King and Siffrin scream.

*The King. Collapses.

*And Siffrin…

*goes.

*limp.

*Madame Odile gasps, covering her mouth.

*You stare.

*Bonnie grabs your skirt, wiping their tears.

*You can’t move.

*Isabeau is sobbing, holding Siffrin hand in his.

*You can’t breathe.

*Siffrin head turns to the side.

*You

*CAN’T

*BREATHE-

~~~~~~~~

*You are back at the Library, in Dormont.

*You need to go greet Siffrin from his nap!

*…

*Thank Change, you took those acting classes.

*You meet him as usual, trying your best to not to immediately burst into tears.

“Hello, Siffrin! Did you enjoy your nap?”

*They yawn, and gives a little hum.

“It was okay, a weird dream… I still kinda feel sleepy.”

*Oh, that’s new. Probably not good but you won’t show it on your face.

“Oh! I’m sorry!”

*They smile.

“Nah… It’s fine, I just feel a little sore.”

*They rubbed their neck.

*You blinked.

“My throat feels real weird.”

*Your face falls too quickly.

*They notice.

“Mira? You Okay?”

*Shoot.

*You fix your face.

“I’m fine Siffrin! Just a little stressed about the King that’s all!”

*His booming voice echoes in your head… You feel your mouth twitch.

“Oh… You want to talk about it?”

*You laugh.

*Even now, they still want to help you!

*Of course they do!

*They don’t know how much of a failure you are.

*How all you could do as you see him die was stare!

*You fake a small smile.

“That’s fine, Siffrin. You can rest at the Clock Tower while I get everyone ready.”

*He stares at you for a while.

*They nods, yawns, and make their way to the Bridge.

*Bonnie seems to go with Him, saying something about what they wanted to eat tonight.

*…

* You go to the Change God Statue…

*You knee down to it…

*…

*Then.

*You.

*Cry.

[sonarspace]

DOCTOR’S ORDERS, GIVE US SOME PRIVACY ! (FT. GETO)

synposis. what is a doctor without a nurse? content. nsfw! nurse!geto x reader. kinda sub geto (he's just needdyyy!). praise kínk. orāl. blowjōb. hāndjob. strāp use, pēgging. wc. 2.3k

suguru’s in the bathroom, fussing with the little white nurse hat barely perched on his head. the tight dress—shorter than you’d ever expect him to wear—stretches over his chest, hugging the curve of his hips in a way that makes you bite your lip. the delicate lace at the hem tickles the tops of his thighs, and those stockings… god, he’s everything.

“this is a joke, right?” suguru scoffs, tugging at the low neckline, his fingers brushing the fake name tag pinned to his chest. nurse suguru, it says. "you wanted me to wear this, and for what?"

but when he turns and sees you in your doctor's coat, stethoscope dangling around your neck, he pauses. he raises his eyebrows intrigued. and you? you’re enjoying every second of it.

“well, nurse suguru,” you begin, stepping closer, your fingers lazily toying with the waistband of your pants, “are you going to help your doctor tonight?”

he nods eagerly, his breath coming in short, shaky gasps as he meets your gaze, the need in his eyes unmistakable. you can see the way he shivers in anticipation, his body reacting to your every move. “i want to see you on your knees for me,” you command softly, your voice dripping with authority.

“good boy,” you whisper, a teasing smile curling your lips. you slide your pants down, revealing the strap underneath. holding it up in front of him, you purr, “then why don’t you start by sucking on this for me?”

“please,” he whispers, the word heavy with need.

“please what?” you ask cocking your head to the side, wanting to hear him say it.

“please… let me have it,” he pleads, his voice almost a whimper, and you can't help but smirk at his desperation.

you guide the strap to his lips, watching as he parts them eagerly, his breath hitching. “go ahead,” you coax, gently pressing the strap against his lips. it glides against his warm, soft tongue. you feel a shiver run down your spine at the sight of him trying to take it deeper, eyes locked onto yours.

“that’s it,” you murmur, fingers weaving through his hair, guiding him as he bobs his head. you relish the way he looks up at you, mouth full, his cheeks hollowing with effort. each movement he makes sends a rush of heat coursing through you, and you can’t help but smile down at him “such a good nurse... you’re doing so well.”

as he works the strap, you notice a mix of saliva and the slightest hint of your own arousal pooling at the corners of his mouth. the sight is intoxicating, and you feel your pulse quicken. “you’re getting so messy, suguru,” you tease, your voice low and sultry.

he lets out a muffled groan, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure up your spine. his tongue swirls around the strap, and you gently thrust your hips forward, pushing it deeper into his mouth. “just like that. take it all in, nurse,” you murmur, your voice dripping with sweet command.

with each thrust, he loses himself more in the act, drool escaping to coat his chin as he chokes slightly, the sound echoing throughout the room. his eyes watering but never looking away from you. you can see the way his body responds, a flush creeping up his neck.

“good boy,” you whisper, heart racing as you watch him struggle to keep up, reveling in the mess he’s creating. the sight of him, cheeks flushed and chin glistening with saliva, ignites a fire in you. “you’re doing so well for your doctor. just a little more.”

with a sudden burst of confidence, you push the strap deeper, feeling him gag slightly around you. his hands grip your thighs for support, the pressure of his fingers grounding you both in this moment. the sweet sound of his muffled moans echoes in your ears, each one feeding your arousal as you guide him rhythmically, letting him adjust to the pace.

“look at you,” you breathe, your voice thick with lust. “such a messy little nurse, so eager to please.”

as you pull back for a moment, you admire the way he breathes heavily, gasping for air. a string of saliva hangs between his lips and the strap, glistening under the soft light. you can't help but lean down to wipe it away with your thumb, bringing it up to your own mouth and rolling your eyes back at the taste of him.

“on the bed,” you command softly, your voice laced with authority, and he responds immediately, his eyes wide with anticipation. he stands up, the sheets rustling beneath him as he crawls onto the bed.

you can hear the barely-there sound of his breathing, quick and shaky, as he positions himself in the center of the bed, looking back at you with a mixture of eagerness and vulnerability.

“just lie back and let your doctor take care of you,” you murmur, settling over his hips. if you had any doubt about how much he’s enjoying this, it all melts away when you feel his hardness pressing against you and see him squirm just the tiniest bit.

you notice the way he bites his lip, trying to contain the sounds begging to escape. you can’t resist the urge to tease him further, rocking your hips against him, the friction sending both of you spiraling and moaning.

you lean down, brushing your lips against his neck, planting soft kisses that make him gasp. your hands move over his chest, feeling the hardened nipples beneath the fabric of his shirt. you smile against his skin, enjoying the way he reacts to your touch, the slight shudder that ripples through him.

with a teasing flick of your tongue, you draw circles over his shirt, kissing your way down to his nipples, sucking gently until you feel him arch into you, a soft moan escaping his lips. your hands wander lower, fingers pressing against the soft fabric of his skirt, feeling the way it clings to him. the contrast between your warm mouth and the cool air sends his senses into overdrive.

“you like that, don’t you?” you murmur, pulling back just enough to see his blissful expression, eyes half-closed in pleasure. he nods eagerly, and you can’t help but chuckle at his neediness.

you reach the hem of his skirt, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. he bites his lip, and you can see the question in his gaze, that flicker of uncertainty.

“can i?” you ask softly. with a quick nod, he gives you the green light, and you tug down his stockings, freeing his hardness. his length springs free, leaking slightly, and you can’t help but admire the way it glistens under the dim light.

“look at you,” you whisper, your voice thick with desire, “so beautiful for me.”

“i’m gonna keep this on, okay?” you say, pushing the skirt up to his hips. he meeks out a shaky "okay," the word barely escaping his lips, filled with anticipation.

your mouth moves lower, kissing the insides of his thighs, letting your breath ghost over his exposed skin. you press your tongue against his length, feeling the vein throb against your tongue, and a low moan escapes him.

your hands grip his thighs tightly, keeping him in place as you wrap your lips around his tip and take him deeper. you hum, the vibration sending shivers through him as his taste coats your tongue.

slowly, you move your tongue lower, reaching his base, feeling the weight of him against your mouth. your other hand glides over his balls, squeezing lightly, teasing him with every gentle touch.

your finger glides teasingly down to his ass, and as you press against him, he bucks up into your mouth, completely overwhelmed. "fuckkk," a low growl escapes him.

you pull back from his cock, taking a moment to admire the way his chest rises and falls, breaths coming in quick, heavy gasps. your thumb brushes over his cheek as you lean closer, your voice soft and reassuring. “it’s okay, suguru. i’ve got you. we can stop whenever you want.” 

he shakes his head eagerly, his eyes wide with need. “no, don’t stop,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “i want more.” he groans. “wanna feel you in me. wanna feel your strap.”

you feel a thrill at his words, heart racing as you inch closer to him. “is that really what you want, nurse suguru?” you tease, brushing your lips against his cheek. he nods fervently, eyes pleading, and you hum in response.

with a wicked smile, you tease a finger inside him, eliciting a soft whine as his hips buck up. “it’s okay,” you whisper against his ear, playfully biting down on his lobe. you ease your finger in and out, letting him adjust to the sensation.

you watch as suguru's breath hitches, his body responding to every movement you make. the way he writhes beneath you, you can feel the tension building in him, and you know he craves more.

“you’re doing so well,” you coax, adding a second finger, stretching him further. his back arches slightly, pushing against you, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him so lost in pleasure. “just relax for me, nurse.”

as you curl your fingers, searching for that sweet spot, his moans grow louder. you lean in closer, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as you work him open, your fingers moving in a slow rhythm that keeps him teetering on the edge.

“are you ready to feel my strap now?” you ask, pulling back just enough to gauge his reaction. his lips part slightly, a breathless "yes" escaping him, thick with need and urgency.

leaning in, you brush your lips against his forehead, grounding him in this moment. “good,” you whisper, and you can’t help but smile at his eagerness.

you position yourself between his thighs, the strap fitting snugly against you. as you align it with his entrance, you give him a moment to adjust, making sure he’s comfortable. “just relax for me, suguru,” you murmur, watching the way he bites his lip and hums in understanding.

you gently push forward, the pressure building as you slowly sink into him. he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut, and you feel him clench around you, as you push deeper. “you feel incredible,” you groan.

“just like that,” he breathes, urging you on, his hips instinctively rocking against yours, inviting you to fill him more. the rhythm begins to build, each thrust of yours is met with a soft whimper falling from his lips. 

with every movement, you watch his face contort in bliss, his eyes heavy-lidded and lost in the moment. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mixing with his gasps and moans that urge you on, deeper and harder.

“you’re taking me so well, suguru,” you praise, your voice breathy as you lean closer, brushing your lips against his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of him.

“more,” he pleads, his hands gripping your hips, knuckles white with need. “please, give me more.”

you oblige, picking up the pace. the strap slides in and out of him with intoxicating ease, his body responding to your every movement. you can feel him getting closer, the heat radiating from him intensifying as his tip begins to leak more, a slick sheen pooling at the tip of his cock.

you angle your thrusts just right, targeting that sweet spot that makes him writhe beneath you. each push sends him spiraling closer to pleasure. “that’s it, suguru,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you watch yourself move in and out of him. “let go for me.”

his eyes flutter open, filled with a mix of lust and urgency. “i’m so close,” he gasps, voice trembling. “don’t stop, please. i need it.”

you can feel his muscles clenching around you, the tightness almost overwhelming as he edges closer to the brink. “just a little more, my sweet nurse,” you coax, driving into him.

“please, i can’t hold on much longer,” he whines, his hands gripping your hips tighter, urging you deeper.

with a soft hum, your hand wraps around his leaking cock, jerking him off in time with your thrusts. the slickness coats your fingers as you pump him, matching the rhythm of your hips. he lets out a strangled moan. “wish i could put a baby in you,” you murmur in response.

“come for me, suguru” you urge, your thumb swiping over his sensitive tip, sending him over the edge.

his body seizes beneath you as he reaches his climax, his cock pulsing in your hand. hot ropes of cum spill onto his thighs, over his skirt, and coating your hand, messy and unrestrained. his moans grow louder, desperate, filling the room as he rides out his release, his body trembling uncontrollably.

you don’t slow down, thrusting deep into him to draw out every last bit of his pleasure. your hand continues to move, jerking him through it, the wetness of his release slick between your fingers as you feel him twitch and writhe.

“so perfect for me,” you whisper, your voice thick with satisfaction as you watch him unravel beneath you, completely lost in the sensation.

his chest heaves, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps as his body slowly comes down from its high. you finally ease your movements, gently pulling out, watching the way he winces before relaxing fully, his eyes fluttering closed.

you lean down, brushing your lips against his forehead, then slowly trail down to his nose, and finally capture his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. his body still trembles beneath you, but he responds to your kiss with a ferocity that makes your heart race all over again.

"so messy," you whisper against his lips, your voice laced with affection. "but all mine."

his breath hitches as he kisses you back, slower this time and his fingers slide up to cradle your face, ground himself in the warmth of your skin.

an. first official kinktober fic *squeals*! (reposted this, so if you saw it the first time, ignore!) i hope you guys like this, please let me know in my ask box! stay tuned for more kinky fics (hopefully). ⸝⸝ reblogs, likes & comments are appreciated

༘⋆ 🏷: @actuallynarii

© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[gingernut1314]

Call Me Baby

SDC x SDC!GN!Reader

Summary: The Stardust Crusaders need to know why you called them by their name.

Warnings: Takes place in JJBA part 3, Jotaro's kinda of goes past part 3 cause I wanted to lolol, established relationships, slight misuse of a Star Platinum??? (I say it's the only right way to use a stand buuuuuttt......), I'm pretending like Suzi Q was never in the picture (love you queen, but your husband is hot so you can travel with Lisa-Lisa) but yall are free to do as you do, the slightest mention of spice, Iggy is a PET/DOG only

Word Count: 760+, 680+, 560+, 700+ , 760+, 450+, Total: 3.9K

Song:

BABYDOLL Youtube | Spotify

A/N: because I JUST WANT TO CALL THEM MY BABY SORRY NOT SORRY

Taglist: @cinnbar-bun @lostfirefly

↞ to Jjba Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

Jotaro Kujo 😒🐬

Jotaro will never admit it, but he loves that you call me baby/babe

At first, he grumbles and tells you to stop but the more you do it, the more it grows on him and the less he’ll complain

When the other Crusaders get on him for it, he’ll tell them to shut the hell up as he simply grabs your upper arm and drags you further along and away from them as they cackle like utter fools.

He’s been through all the teasing and continues to let you call him that silly-ass pet name even when he utterly dislikes it (Errrrrrr--fake. He lies to himself)

So when you call him by his name on a random Tuesday afternoon he doesn’t know what to make of it

What the hell were you doing calling him by his name?

He won't respond and continues to read his book in the living room of your shared home

You’ll call for him again, thinking he didn’t hear you the first time

but this time he’ll turn his sharp, green eyes up to look at you from underneath the visor of his hat

“Who the hell are you calling for?” He asks, letting his irritation get the best of him. You just blink because what is he talking about? It’s only the two of you here. Who else would you be calling for?

“Your name is Jotaro, isn’t it? I’m calling for you so get your ass up and come help me with this. I can’t reach--”

“No.” He simply says, returning his eyes to his book. You grit your teeth and stare daggers into him, trying to think of what the hell he was going on in his mind--what the hell he was playing at

“Jotaro.” No response. “This isn’t funny.” A flip of the page in his book. 

You march over to him with a huff of annoyed air, the book he’s trained his eyes on snapped shut with a simple movement of your hand. You leaned down, placing a hand on the armrest next to him so that you could look upon the entirety of his flawless face under his hat.

“Remember what we’ve gone over together about telling each other our feelings because some of us would prefer to bottle it up and storm around all grumpy?” Those green eyes snapped up to look at you again.

“You’re starting to piss me off now.” You give him an all too bright smile, bringing your other hand up to pat his cheek in a way you knew would only piss him off further.

“Aww see, Jotaro. That’s not so hard.” You tease only for his hand to grab hold of your wrist faster than lighting, yanking you closer so that you see his displeasure up close and personal. 

“You’ll stop calling me that right now.” You blink in utter confusion at his gritted-out words.

“Then what am I supposed to--” It clicked then what he’s so worked up about. Why he keeps insisting you not to use his name. It makes your heart flutter to think that he might actually like being called by that pet name. “Oh--oh you sweet thing.” You purr in teasingly, only making those eyes of his hardened further. His grip on your wrist tightened. “You just want me to call you my baby, right?” 

Jotaro lets you go then, going for the closed book in his lap in his own unique way to end the conversation there. Oh, but you are fully invested. You weren’t going to just drop it as you might usually do. No. Not when he’s put on such a show for you. 

“Baby,” You say, lowly, stopping the books to travel upward. You watched his shoulders relax at the pet name. Such a small release of tension you hadn’t even noticed added before. “Can you please grab the tupperware from the top cabinet for me? The one with the red lid? I need it down so I can pack some goodies for your mother when we go to visit her tonight.” 

“Fine.” He said, going to stand from his seat, but you kept him caged in. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over your face as you looked over his features, which he always tried to keep oh so emotionless. 

You leaned in, placing a quick peck to his feather-soft lips. 

“Thank you, babe.” You said, moving away so that he could stand. 

“Good grief.” He grumbled, sounding and looking all so annoyed, but he couldn’t control Star Platinum from popping an arm out to give your hand a quick squeeze.

Joseph Joestar 🏃‍♂️🛬

He’s calling you babe/baby

You’re calling him babe/baby

He hasn’t given you a choice in the matter and neither have you

It’s second nature

It’s his and yours second name

So when you call him by his first name, it can only mean one of three things

1) You’re in his arms moaning it for all to hear and making his already too-big ego even bigger

2) he’s dying/in danger and you're screaming at him to not be as such

Or 3) you’re completely and utterly furious with him and are about to murder him

But, as he’s joining the other Crusaders all gathered in the hallway of the hotel room they had picked out and hears his name growled out like it had come from the lips of some great bloodthirsty beast, he knows he’s about to get completely wiped from the face of the earth by your hand 

“OH MY GOD!” Joseph shouts, heart coming to a full stop in his chest. “Hide me! Hide me now.” He all but begs to the group.

“What? Trouble in paradise?” Polnareff teases as Joseph grabs for his arm.

“What the hell did you do now, old man?” Jotaro asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“I don’t know!” Joseph just managed to get out before the door to your hotel room swung open with a bang. He gives a shout in fright as he pulls Polnareff in front of him in an attempt to hide himself. 

“Joseph Joestar.” You fume, marching down the hall towards the group. 

“Last name too. Huh.” Kakyoin observes from where he stood next to Jotaro. 

“Get your ass over here. Right. Now.” You hiss, shoving Polnareff out of your way. The Frenchman began to laugh hysterically, unable to keep it down any longer.

“What? You’re gonna have to speak up, my sweet honey bunch, sugar pie, love of my life. My hearing isn’t how it once was.” Joseph panicked, reaching for Avdol’s arm only for the fortuneteller to move out of the way. 

“Forgive me, friend. This is your battle alone.”

“But--but--” A hand grabbing hold of his shirt froze him in his place. “B-baby…hey. Mornin’.” He said, slowly turning around to face your wrath. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today? No?” He gently unraveled your fingers from his shirt to hold it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just--look at you. You take my damn breath--”

“Joseph.” The man gave a sharp gulp at his name spoken in such a threatening way.

“Yes, sweetness?” He said, trying to soften your anger one last time with pet names and caresses against the skin of your hand.

“What is the one thing I have asked you to stop doing time and time again?” Joseph’s brown eyes flickered towards his grandson as he thought. Jotaro only pulled his hat further down his head to keep himself out of it. 

“Uh--not to use your hairbrush?” You shook your head. “Not to…eat your snacks?” Yet another shake of your head. 

“Nope. Want to take one more guess?”

“I--Do I want to?” Joseph said with a nervous laugh. 

“Next you’ll say: Sorry, babe. I was in such a rush this morning I completely forgot to not use your hair products because my hair could never be as beautiful and luscious as yours.” You said all too sweetly in the face of such anger you had been presenting.

“Heh, heh…babe, you know that's my lin--OH NO!” Joseph shouted, as you yanked him down, knocked his hat off his head, and gave his hair a good ruffle to mess up all the work he had done using your products. 

“Don’t do it again, Joestar.” You hissed, in his face, now sporting a too-cute pout. It made your anger bank the slightest. You could never resist that face, even when he drove you utterly crazy. “Find us a good breakfast place baby, and I’ll forgive you.” Joseph’s face instantly brightened and he placed a big, old smooch on your cheek. 

“You’re in luck, baby because I know just the place.”

Muhammad Avdol 🔥🦅

He’s not going to be the biggest when it comes to calling you baby/babe

But please go ahead and call him baby/babe

He loves it

He loves it so much he finds himself doing more and more romantic things for you just to keep pulling the pet name from your lips

He’ll shower you in flowers and small gifts and forehead kisses and praises all to have you call him baby

When he’s feeling more goofy or happy, you’ll find him calling you baby/babe right back

So on the rare occasion you call him by name, he can’t help but feel disappointed

“Have I done something to upset you?” He’ll ask softly, brows furrowed as he focused his whole attention onto you. 

“What? No. Why would I be upset with you?” You asked, turning to face him fully, your own concern etched onto your face. “I was just asking for you to pass me another napkin.” 

“Oh.” Avdol mutters in a small voice you hardly ever heard him speak in. He hadn’t even heard your question, just the utter lack of the pet name. You watched him carefully as he grabbed a napkin from the small pile the waiter had brought the group. “Here you go.” 

“Thank you.” You said, taking the napkin from his warm fingers. He turned back to the food on his plate, taking his fork back into his hand but making no move to begin eating. 

Had you done something to upset him? 

You couldn’t think of a single thing that might have done that, but something was clearly wrong. You reached a hand out to brush your knuckles over his cheek, gaining the attention of those bright brown eyes of his. He leaned into your touch, giving you an all too pinched smile. 

“What’s up?” You asked, moving you knuckles over his cheek once more. 

“Nothing. Truly. How are you liking--” “Hey--stop. Tell me what I did, okay.” You watched him pause, eyes taking in yours before his hand came up to keep yours against his cheek.

“It’s silly.” He said and you could see the slight embarrassment rising in his features. 

“I doubt it. You can tell me.” He gave you a lovely smile, squeezing your hand gently. 

“You said my name. I told you, it’s very silly.” You knew what you’d done instantly. 

“Oh baby, I’m sorry.” That smile of his only grew at the pet name. “I--you’re name is just so beautiful I just want to use it here and there.” You felt the skin of his cheek grow even warmer at your words. 

“Geez--can you two get a room.” Polnareff huffed from where you sat beside Avdol, arms crossed and a deep pout on his lips.

“Jealous?” Avdol teased the Frenchmen with a rumbling chuckle. “I don’t have any doubt you’ll find someone to call baby soon.” You couldn’t help the smile that pulled to your lips at the flutter of happiness in your chest. 

“Me? Jealous? Never.” Polnareff contiuned as you moved to take Avdol’s hand within your own. You brought it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss his skin. Those brilliantly bright eyes turned back to find you once more at the touch. 

“I love you, baby.” You murmured against his skin. 

“I love you too…baby.” He said a small smirk on his lips that had a small laugh pull at your throat.

Noriaki Kakyoin 🍒💚

He’s not used to the whole relationship thing

So don’t expect him to instantly be calling you baby/babe 

He might not even say it all, feeling too--strange saying it

But go ahead a call him baby/babe

He likes it

No--no he loves it

He especially loves it when you call him baby/babe when excited

The spark in your eyes as you jump and giggle and call for him using that pet name to show him whatever had gotten you this excited is addicting to him

It's especially addicting when you take his hand in your excitement 

So when you call for him using his name, he’s frozen in his spot looking towards Mr. Joestar, Polnareff, and Avdol for help

Because they might have more insight into the situation than he ever would hope to have

“Oooo--you’re in trouble now.” Polnareff teases, making Kakyoin’s anxiety spike in his chest as the Frenchmen elbows Advol playfully, though the fortune teller made no move to help or laugh. 

“T-trouble? What did I do?” Kakyoin asked, racking his brain for anything he could have done to upset you. 

“Beats us bud.” Mr. Joestar added, his own snickers adding to Kakyoin’s stress. “I’m sure you’ll find out.”

“But--I didn’t do--” You call his name again, cutting off Kakyoin’s frantic rush to figure out what might be wrong off. He snapped around to find you all but bouncing down the street towards the group, Joatro following behind in his typical unhurried state. Kakyoin tried to catch Jotaro’s eye, to try to keep figuring out why you might possibly be using his name, but his friend kept the visor of his hat down. 

“Y-yes?” He asked as you came to a stop before him, a bright smile on your lips. 

You didn’t seem upset. You looked all too happy to be upset…but maybe it was a trap of some sort? Maybe you were trying to get him to drop his guard so you could better shout your anger at him. 

You paused in what you were about to say, brows furrowing as you took in his panicked and stressed state. 

“Something wrong?” You asked, only making the snickering from Polnareff and Mr. Joestar harder. You took in this and then his state and felt anger begin to build in your chest.

Had they said something to him? If they had, oh were you more than ready to give them hell. 

“Kakyoin, what happened?” He seemed to sink into himself, eyes winching as he scanned over your features, which were growing more and more pissed by the second. 

“I-I don’t know. I think--did I do something wrong? Did I upset you?”

“Do something wrong? Why would you think you did something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm in comfort. 

“I don’t know. You just said my name and I don’t know--” He gave a deep sigh, looking away from you as embarrassment began to creep into his eyes. 

“Wait--You’re name? That’s why you think something’s wrong? Because I said your name?” Kakyoin glanced back at you, a small shrug on his shoulders. 

“You only ever call me baby.” Your heart hurt a bit when he finally expressed what was truly bugging him. 

“I’m--no I’m not upset at you. I like your name. I like calling you baby. I like both so I just--switched. I’m sorry sweetheart.” You said, rubbing his arm to try and soothe him. Kakyoin seemed to relax, a smile pulling at his thin lips. 

“O-oh…I feel a bit silly now.” You pulled a bright smile to your lips as you shook your head.

“No. Baby, I don’t think so at all.” That stress continued to ease within Kakyoin and it only made you even happier. “Especially when you have those two idiots whispering in your ear no doubt.” You said, shooting them a daggered glare that had their snickers turned into their own panic. 

“Come on, I found this little tea shop that’s selling a cherry tea you need to try. It’s to die for!” You said, moving your hand down his arm to interlock your fingers within his. Kakyoin was more than happy to take it and follow you.

Jean Pierre Polnareff 💔🗡️

Deep inhale…

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE CALL THIS MAN BABY

CALL HIM BABE

CALL HIM BABY GIRL 

He needs you to call him every last pet name in the world and then some

And he’ll do it back

He’ll do it back SO MUCH LIKE

It’s in his DNA. He can’t help it. It needs to be said right alongside every other pet name and praise he can think up 

He’s bursting at the seams every morning to wake up and whisper a “good morning, baby.” against your lips 

And he’s just as excited to whisper a “good night, baby.” before you two drift asleep wrapped in each other's arms

He melts into a puddle every time you call him baby/babe

Like--just puddy in your hand

So when you say his name--not even his first name--he’s completely coming apart at the seams panicked.

“Mon coeur, what have I done to deserve such harsh treatment?” He cried, tears brimming in his gray eyes as he grabbed your hands up in his own. His lips peppered each with kisses, flipping them over so he could do the same thing to your palms and inner wrists. It was a flurry of kisses that had your slight annoyance ebbing in your chest even when you fought so hard to keep it. 

“You didn’t take me with you to grab supplies.” You played up your anger with a humph, turning your face away from his utterly forlorned one. 

“Forgive me, please. You were sleeping so peacefully. Like an angel. Mon Ange.” His kisses continued to travel up your arm. It made your skin tingle and your heart begin to beat rapidly in your chest. 

“When have I ever cared about you waking me up, Polnareff?” You said his name only to pull a mournful cry from his lips. “What if something had happened to you? What if you had gotten hurt? Hum? What then? That would kill me.” Polnareff’s lips left your skin only so that he could pull you into his arms, trying his best to find your gaze but you continued to look away. To turn him into a near whiny mess as you crossed your arms, preventing him from pulling you flush against his chest. 

You were serious about him going off on his own. He should never go off on his own while on this journey. Not when he had been attacked while all on his lonesome one too many times for your liking.

“Je suis désolé. Please forgive me.” You peeked a glance his way, keeping your features and eyes stern compared to his pleading, pouting face that nearly had you breaking down and forgetting about the whole thing.

“Promise me you’ll never do it again.” Polnareff nodded, pulling a hand away from you only so he could stick a pinky finger up. 

“I pinky promise, mon amour.” You eyed his pinky, then his big old puppy eyes and gave a soft sigh. Your pinky found its way around his and he gave it a gentle squeeze, which you gave right back. 

“I’m serious. I don’t know what I would do if you got--really hurt.” You said, feeling your heart twist painfully at the thought of your best friend and the love of your life getting more than hurt. Polnareff’s soft, needy features shifted suddenly into that of complete and utter seriousness as he leaned in closer to you. 

“I will try my best to keep myself safe, but I will do everything in my power to keep you safe above all else.” You watched him for a long moment. Watched him and just felt your love for him grow with each passing second. 

You gave in fully then, pulling your hand away from his so that you could gently cup his cheeks. You stood on your tippy toes to press a soft, tender kiss to those warm lips of his. Lips that had stars bursting behind your eyes and making you feel like you were standing on top of the world. He sighed into your kiss, holding you tighter against him and never once threatening to let go.

“Amour?” He questioned, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. You opened your eyes to find that soft, needy look had returned. 

“Yes?” 

“Please call me baby. I cannot take it any longer.” He begged, a deep blush crawling over his cheeks and neck. You chuckled, rubbing circles into his pink-dusted cheeks. 

“Baby,” A bright smile pulled at his lips, his grip pulling you ever closer. “I love you.”

“Je t’amie.” He whispered before claiming your lips all over again.

Iggy 🐕💨

CALL THIS PUPPY A GOOD SWEET BABY BOY 

Give him some coffee-flavored gum while you do and you’ve got yourself a loyal companion for life

Will only let you pick him up, pet him, and scratch his belly once you’ve gained his trust

He’ll grow so loyal he’ll start getting a bit possessive of you if any other the Crasuders make you upset or threaten to even touch you

Their hair

Gone

Their lungs

Invaded with the foul smell of a ripe fart

Call him a baby while he falls asleep in your lap 

Just

Please call him a good, sweet baby

He’s ugly and a bit of a menace but he just needs someone to be gentle and sweet to him

“Whose the best baby boy in the world? Hum? Who is?” You ask as you pepper kiss upon kiss to his ugly little face. Iggy's little tail is waggling so much it's moving his whole body in his excitement. “The most handsome baby boy in the whole world.” 

“The most handsome? Hardly.” Polnareff huffs from where he sits next to you on the ground, arms crossed and eyes staring daggers up at the dog. “Have you seen me? I’m a cute baby boy too.” He huffs, making Iggy pause in his excitement. 

“Polnareff, you are fighting with a dog.” Polnareff growls. 

“That is no mere dog. No. That’s a devil. A foul beast come straight from hell itself to torment my innocent soul.” Polnareff hisses making you roll your eyes. 

“So mean to the itty bitty baby.” You said, voice turning back into that of a coo, placing another smooching kiss on Iggy’s stubby muzzle. Though, Iggy had now set his buggish blue eyes on Polnareff. 

“What’s he looking at?” Polnareff asked, panic rising in his voice.  

“What? This baby? He’s just looking at you. Probably wants a pet.” Polnareff’s eyes fly wide as he rushes to his feet, trying to create as much distance as he can between him and the dog. 

“Keep the demon away from me and my hair. I just fixed it.” He all but whined as Iggy began to wiggle in your grip, a growl on his lips. 

“He hardly did any damage. He’s just a good baby.” You said, loosening your grip on the short-haired dog. 

“Hardly any damage!” Polnareff shouted, taking on a defensive stance. “He tore it out!” You huffed, patting Iggy’s round belly as he continued to pull himself from your grip. 

“It wasn’t that--” Iggy shot from your arms and latched onto Polnareff’s face, becoming a storm of teeth and farts and growls that had you wincing in pity for the Frenchman, who shouted and screamed away. “…bad.”

[abstract-venus]

If Payneland has a million fans, Jayden Revri is one of them

If Payneland has 1 fan, Jayden Revri is THAT ONE

If Payneland has no fans, the fucking Netflix execs got him

10 more seasons or 0 more seasons

Canon ship or not canon

He will always support them

¡VIVA LOS CHICOS DE MEURTOS!

[punkpandapatrixk]

🌻Thinking About You ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

My Dearest Dream Person,

I think, the signs are all around me. When I weave dreams of my ideals, surely I must be thinking of you. I’ll recognise you when our eyes meet for the first time. I’m sure I can do that. After all, I have dreamt of you for the longest time.

I know I will love the way I feel, the way I am, when I’m in your presence. I’m certain that I will know then that this is true love…

with all of my heart,

Your Destined One♥︎

PLAYLIST: so this is love playlist by Sea Pearl

MOVIE: Sleeping Beauty (1955)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

For my Pink Clouds, there is a little incident with Pile 3, which is like, super random? But I was told it was important LMAO So I’ve included a mini behind-the-story for it as a sweet extra message🥰If you’re already subscribed, don't miss the full post on Patreon~🌷

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – I will hold and heal you, and always be there to protect you♥︎

VIBE: So This Is Love from Cinderella

my daydreams leading to you – Knight of Pentacles Rx

At the time you’re finding this PAC, your Destined Person is in a state of wanting to hurry and meet you XD They have this strong desire to be with you and hold you close. I think their Higher Self is making it clear to them that you exist somewhere in this Universe and that makes them daydream a looootttt about being in a relationship. Problem is, they don’t really know what you look like or how to find you… so… they could be trying to find a glimpse of you in so many different types of people! LMAO

For the most part, I don’t think this means your Destined Person is all and about dating all kinds of people just to find you—that would be kinda trash, right? But to a large extent, they daydream to no end. They could be seeing people, yes, finding them attractive or interesting, and being curious about them, only to realise there’s quite nothing there… These people don’t feel… right… or complete. Like there’s always something… wrong… or missing.

This could drive them crazy at some point. Wondering why their wants and ideals are so damn complicated! So unrealistic! But the truth is, they could never be satisfied with any of those different types of people because each of them hold only ever a piece of the puzzle that would make a whole picture of YOU~🧩It is your Destined Person’s task to figure this out themselves and finally get a clearer picture of what kind of Love they do truly deserve in this world (it is YOU~!)💕

let’s go on a date! – 5 of Swords

If you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, I feel like you’ve had a few storms in the past involving human connections in general. In simple terms, a lot of people have been so MEAN to you! It could be your own “family”, fake friends, toxic partners, whatever, really. A lot of people have caused a great deal of psychological pain onto you. And I have a strong feeling your Destined Person knows about this. I’m sure they know about this from the aethers, one way or another. After all, it’s not like their Higher Self isn’t in communication with your Higher Self? Huehue

That said, even before you meet in the physical, your Destined Person already has this vibe about them… of wanting to protect you from harm. I feel like they have this unsettling feeling deep inside of them, a feeling they can’t quite put a finger on, that they want to protect somebody. They want to be a hero to you. When you’re finally together, I still see this image of them wanting to punch anybody who would pose a danger to you XD

I’m seeing this comical image of them punching the air to demonstrate how they’re going to keep you from any, ANY, kind of harm. They’re funny like that. Humour is their love language hahah They’re not afraid of making a fool of themselves if that makes you laugh. Your Destined Person is going to be so devoted to protecting and comforting you♥︎

i want you around – Queen of Pentacles

Aaand…there’s a high chance that your Destined Person is a rich boi/gal. Not only do they have this nurturing quality to them, but they also have the means to provide for you. Even if they’re not that rich (yet) when you meet, the key thing is that they have this desire to work hard to provide for you. Make your dreams come true more easily. Make your life together easy. They don’t want you ever again to experience pain or hardship.

Truly, this is a daddy/mommy vibe~ It doesn’t matter if your Destined Person is younger or smaller than you, they will take it upon themselves to be the daddy/mommy in the relationship😂If you’re the one who’s older or bigger than them, you will find this stupidly endearing HAHAHAH

Your Destined Person is sensual, reliable, emotionally dependable, very honest and hardworking, on top of being funny. They have all of these lovely qualities that they can’t wait to pour unto you. They’re currently in this weird space where they really, really want to be someone’s boyfriend/girlfriend… GOSH, I HOPE YOU MEET SOON, DAMMIT!✨🍀🩰

DAYDREAMS🔻💚

words to describe you – Priestess of Patience

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Enchantment

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – You’ve shone a light of hope on my dark and dreary world

VIBE: Once Upon a Dream from Sleeping Beauty

my daydreams leading to you – 9 of Swords Rx

Right off the bat, your Destined Person has gone through some hellish experiences in this world. They’ve not had an easy life, and that’s caused them to view reality as immensely bleak. Before the idea of you came into their conscious mind, they’d probably had it so rough they couldn’t let themselves dream big or dream beauteous things. You know how people settle for less because they’re afraid of getting disappointed, again and again, by reality… by people?

On a different note, this could also mean that your Destined Person has endured much trauma in this life. People who have endured trauma could tend to have nightmares, even night terrors, right? We’re talking bad memories, PTSD, even CPTSD, so… this isn’t exactly an easy energy to navigate. Due to their traumas, they could also have developed harmful habits or strange coping mechanisms needed for survival. Within their psyche, there simply was so much chaos and pain.

One day, God came to your Destined Person and awakened a dream of YOU in them~ This miraculously gave them so much comfort and brought a sense of gladness for the first time in their dark and dreary world. When your Destined Person learnt of the aetheric connection you share, that you exist somewhere in this world and that you are waiting to meet and fall in love with them, they felt genuine softness for the first time in a long, long while…

That there is still something down the lane, there’s someone dearly beloved, that’s still worth living for~♥︎

let’s go on a date! – IV The Emperor Rx

From that moment onwards, your Destined Person went on to transform themselves. To make them stronger and more dazzling so they could become a perfect match for you. If this Pile is your main pile, I’m sure you’re a super dope person! I mean dope as in super awesome. I just know it that you’re a wonderful individual who has a big heart, and that a lot of people find you capable and inspirational. One way or another, this of you was conveyed to your Destined Person by the Universe~!

You are strong and kind and your Destined Person already knows this of you. In many ways, I feel almost like your Destined Person feels like they might not have that much to offer you… You’re so, so much, much more than they ever have been. Perhaps you’re richer, more successful, more famous, and all that, so…

Your Destined Person is currently just working on themselves. Making something out of themselves. They don’t really know yet what they could ever give you aside from their genuine heart. But they’re not going to be satisfied with just that. They’re not a loser, you know. They’re only beginning to let themselves be what they’re supposed to be—there’s still a lot they’re discovering about their strengths and natural talents! When they’ve figured this out of themselves, they’ll know just exactly what precious something they could offer you as a token of their Love~

i want you around – 8 of Cups Rx

Of all the Piles, I feel like your Destined Person is quite literally currently in a phase of self-discovery. They’re deep in the trenches of their own trauma healing and self-transformation that they can’t afford to focus too much on your energy. So this could mean you don’t always get clear aetheric messages from them. Plus, it feels like your Destined Person can’t or don’t even want to convey too many messages about what they think or feel about you because they know words would simply fail them.

The reason why? They’re afraid their words would become empty promises. They don’t even know themselves yet at this point. They’re not their best version of themselves yet. What tangible ideas or things could they possibly offer you? So, that’s kinda the vibe they’re operating with at this point in their Life. And if you should know anything, it is that your Destined Person has not had the luxury of being helped, supported, or coddled much by those they relied on. So there’s this vibe of them being afraid that they themselves can’t be relied upon. And that’s so sad because I think your Destined Person has such a genuine heart…

But worry not! At the end of the day, your Destined Person is literally just being taught by the Universe how to love themselves, prioritise their own needs and wants, and express themselves more honestly. They’ll get there😊They’ve just had a very lonesome and miserable life for the most part. One thing they do want you to know though, is that they’re thankful you exist at all in this Universe. You’ve given them so much hope and calmed down the storms in their world♥︎

DAYDREAMS🔻💛

words to describe you – Priestess of Prosperity

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – I offer you now… Heaven on Earth! My Love!

VIBE: When You Wish Upon a Star from Pinocchio

my daydreams leading to you – 3 of Pentacles Rx

Even just looking at the pic you’ve chosen, it feels like you and your Destined Person really do wish to offer something precious to one another~ It’s almost like a prayer, I feel. That you hold such precious thoughts of one another and wish for the most wonderful things to happen to each other. But even more than just hoping, wishing and praying, the two of you are intent on making the world a better place so the other could rest more easily.

This isn’t just your Destined Person’s thoughts; I feel that even you have always held it in your heart that you wish to become a better person for the one most worthy of your Love. That person destined for you also carries it in their heart to work on themselves and transmute a ton of generational trauma as well as curses. If this is your main pile, I hope you know that you’re a powerful Soul who’s been tasked with the transmutation of Mankind’s negative inclinations.

You and your Destined Person are Divines Feminine and Masculine. You each embody the essence of the Divine in your own unique expression of Feminine and Masculine. Since you were a child, you were already a sage; you knew it within the heart of your hearts that changing the world begins with changing yourself. That’s why you will notice later on that both you and your Destined Person will appear to be such distant creatures from the rest of your families each—because you will have transcended above the ordinariness of the lineage you were born into LOL

let’s go on a date! – X The Wheel of Fortune

All of the above said, of all the Piles, yours is the most certain to meet very soon. I feel like, in the aethers, you are already one and united, and so, you’re just waiting for the temperatures of Planet Earth to get right so she could welcome your Divine Union. You and your Destined Person are such high-vibrational creatures that when you come into contact forests would shake and mountains would shudder XD I’m thinking of the chaos caused by Ponyo when she was trying to get to Sosuke LMAO PERFECT illustration!

You don’t want to end the world. So, this world has had to ready itself in order to witness your Divine Union with your Divine Counterpart. I’m sure when you’re together you’re going to become famous; whatever the scale of your community may be. You’re going to be seen by those around you as the charity-couple or inventor-couple or some shit. You and your Destined Person are going to be working together. And there will be something magical about what you do together—even if that thing is just a small business of a cosy café! For example.

Or it could be something what would be similar to the stories of the invention of bandaids and the surgical gloves. It’s just something lovely like that. There is healing in whatever you do which is needed by Mankind right at this passage of time. I just know it that your matrimony is going to be so full of meaning, of love and joy, or service to Mankind, and most importantly, so full of magical moments that make everything you’ve been through so worthwhile.

i want you around – King of Cups

The King of Cups—the King of love songs and poetry. He is kind, sensitive, patient and caring, compassionate and understanding. And immediately, a quote comes to mind with this aenergy:

‘The right person will make you fall in love with yourself, too.’

Your Destined Person resembles you so much. They possess so many qualities that you like that remind you that you have them, too. Looking at your Destined Person, you are reminded of how good and kind and capable you yourself are. The deeper your feelings get for them, the more in love you feel towards yourself, too. Life, finally makes sense.

You’ll find, ever so unexpectedly, that you don’t need so many distractions anymore. You need only this one person and everything else is a blur. You couldn’t care less anymore about people or things that feel so little in meaning. Not interested anymore. Ain’t got time for any of that now. You want only the one and true thing: a union—a Life—with your Destined Person.

Ever so naturally you will understand that the way to manifest this Love is through your own personal transformation. And so in that sense, your life’s focus becomes only one: YOURSELF. And you realise this—you become motivated to purify your world—through receiving the awakening call of your Destined Person’s identity.

DAYDREAMS🔻💗

words to describe you – Priestess of Magick

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Divination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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[aether-starlight]

You’re the Fish

Pairing: Rafayel x Grumpy!Reader

Warnings: None. Kinda enemies to lovers vibe.

Summary: Rafayel texts you to come over for an emergency. His concept of it is vastly different from yours.

Word count: 700 words.

You didn’t bother to keep the door from slamming in your wake, sprinting into the room to find Rafayel sitting on the floor, brush in hand.

“Do you ever check your phone?” You seethed, brushing a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear.

He didn’t even bother to look at you, enraptured on the canvas before him.

“Not really, but I’ve been known to answer faster to texts starting with ‘baby’ or ‘sweetness’, even.”

“How about pompous prick?”

Rafayel sent you one of those infuriating smiles, unfazed as ever.

“Ooh, someone’s prickly. Rough day at work, Miss Bodyguard?”

“For one: I’m not your bodyguard.” You kneeled by his side and snatched the brush out of his hand. “Second: where exactly is the emergency in this situation?”

Rafayel raised a languid brow.

“Can’t you see?” He gestured at the painting before him, splattered with hues of citrine and turquoise. “It’s a mess.”

It looked like something out of a museum.

Your stare became deadly, words slowly spelled out as you asked: “You made me rush to the outskirts of the city, breaking who knows how many speed limits…for a painting?”

Rafayel’s mirthful gaze withered. Something almost embarrassed crept into his features as his eyes darted between you and the painting.

“Well, I…you see—“

“I thought a Wanderer was kicking your ass!” You exploded.

By that point, he was almost pouting.

“They wouldn’t be kicking my ass, per se.”

You faked solemnity, shaking your head.

“Of course not, maybe just gravely injuring or maiming, nothing too extreme.”

Finally, both of you settled into silence.

He was now looking at his hands, half-mindedly rubbing at the spots of paint coloring his knuckles and the sides of his palms.

Beneath the warm light of the vintage lamp beside the canvas, part of his initial bravado seemed to wane.

The circles beneath the mauve of his eyes became clearer, his hair less of its usual perfect styling.

You sighed, and felt yourself soften. Stress bled out of your body, allowing your shoulders to relax, easing the line at your brow.

“Why am I here, Rafayel? The real reason.”

“Does there have to be a reason?” He asked, petulant as a child.

“Isn’t there always?”

Rafayel brightened, leaning his body closer to yours.

“You see, this reminds me of a story, of a man who was adamant on catching one very specific fish. So obsessed in fact, that when he finally caught it, he had to let it go.“

Your brows furrowed, attempting to stay in the line of his erratic storytelling, all moving hands and vivid intonation.

Rafayel was like that in a way. You soon discovered that your best shot at deciphering how he felt was inside fantasy.

Stories and narratives weren’t just entertainment for him, they were a window to his heart and mind.

The weather would never just be the weather, just like a story was never just a story.

“Am I the fish or the man in this metaphor?”

Rafayel’s gaze was half hidden by long eyelashes.

“Guess. I’d like you to be one, but you’re the other.”

“Maybe I’m none.”

“You are no fun.”

“And you are impractical.”

He huffed out a laugh.

“Whatever you say, Miss Bodyguard.”

You observed him for a second, following the light curve at the corners of his lips, and the tired tilt of his shoulders.

“Rafayel.”

“Hm?”

When his gaze met yours there was something unguarded about it.

“You don’t have to catch me.” You cradled one of his hands in yours, returning the brush to its rightful owner. “Just tell me you want to hang out next time.”

Some of his usual flirty self returned at that.

“We’d be up to no good, I would hope.”

You shook your head, a traitorous smile blooming on your face, and if Rafayel felt his heart stutter at it, he would attribute it to exhaustion.

“You’re incorrigible.”

You gave the painting one last look and had to do a double take.

The once abstract shapes were now connecting into something more, soul peeking out from the impeccable technique.

“Rafayel, is that my face?!”

[damiansgoodgirll]

I never really do this so I was wondering if you can do a one shot with Damian and an autistic reader like what would her do if the reader is overwhelmed and he is trying his best to calm her down. Fluff with a lots of cuddles. If you can’t do it I understand it if you are uncomfortable I’m sorry I thought I get out side my comfort zone and ask 💗💕💕

hi love! i tried my best! hope you like it ❤️

damian priest x reader

overwhelmed

damian knew that big crowds weren’t your places. everytime you were together he tried to avoid them. parties were a big no for you and he understood and respected that but there was a big wwe event coming up and he didn’t want to miss it.

at first you told him to go alone as you didn’t want to be surrounded by tons of people but then you felt a little guilty leaving him alone when all of his colleagues would be accompanied by their partners.

he never forced you to with him, knowing that you would feel a little uncomfortable with so many people so he was surprised when you told him that you would go with him.

“are you sure? you don’t have to and you know that mi amor” he asked you one night before going to bed.

“i’m sure…i wanna be there for you” you said laying your head over his chest.

“if anything happens you gotta tell me tho…”

you smiled at him “i promise you”

so the night of the even became and you were kinda nervous.

you had a pretty long blue dress, hair and make up done and damian wearing a matching blue outfit by your side.

once at the even you were kinda glad you knew almost everyone there. rhea, finn and dom never failed to make you feel welcomed. rhea always treated you like you were sisters and you loved her for that. shauna greeted you, zoey did too. you were happy to see all of those familiar faces that you started to get loose a little. with damian always by your side, you started conversations with most of the people but it was when journalists came around asking damian useless questions that you started to feel a little overwhelmed.

you wouldn’t mind it if they respected your private and personal space but they didn’t.

damian’s hand was holding yours while he was faking smiling answering all of the questions.

“what is her problem? why won’t she leave him alone?” you heard one of the journalist ask to a friend.

damian didn’t hear that but you did.

you tried to shake that feeling away but the fear of having someone’s eyes on you, constantly judging you wasn’t go away.

“are you okay mariposa?” damian asked you, feeling you were getting lost in your head.

“yes i’m fine…” you smiled at him but he wasn’t convinced at all “why don’t we go drink something with rhea and the rest of the group?”

he nodded, being satisfied with your answer.

so a few hours passed, the journalists left but the fear of someone’s eyes on you was still there. you couldn’t explain why but the overwhelming feeling you were experiencing was eating you alive.

“dam…i think i’m going out for a bit, i’ll be right back…” you said leaving the room, not looking back, not even when damian asked you if you were okay.

of course, he followed you outside and his heart broke when he saw tears filling your eyes “baby…what’s going on? are you okay?”

“i don’t know, i just got overwhelmed…” you said. his arms opened up and you immediately found safety in his embrace. he let you cry, not judging you. his hands tracing your back, slowly and gently.

after a few minutes your tears slowed down, making it easier for you to breathe again.

“did something happened?” he asked cautiously. he didn’t want you to overwhelm you with question, he just wanted be sure you were doing okay.

“i don’t know…there was a journalist who said something…but then she got away and in my mind she stayed there…i don’t know i just felt overwhelmed and…”

“hey hey love, take it easy…you’re okay…you’re okay my love…i promise you you’re safe…” he tried to calm you down when he realised you were panicking again “i promise you i’m here…everything’s okay and no one is judging you baby…is it okay if i hug you again?”

“yes please…”

damian smiled when you hugged him back, knowing that most of the times you just wanted to remain alone “it’s okay love…” he reminded you, making you feel loved and safe.

“i’m sorry i ruined your party…i shouldn’t have come, i know you would have better fun without me being here…”

“that’s nonsense love…this party is boring and you being here makes it even better, i love you so much y/n and having you here with me means the world to me. i’m so proud of you for trying to come out of your comfort zone but i promise you that you don’t have to do that, not for me especially…do what makes you happy and safe…” he kissed the top of your head, making you feel loved and appreciated.

“thank you for being here damian…i love you so much…” you smiled into his arms.

“why don’t we stop by the market you like and we buy that delicious ice cream and then we watch a movie and cuddle on the couch together?” he suggested, almost like reading your mind.

“that’s a perfect idea…” you smiled again.

feeling thankful and grateful for having someone as supportive as damian in your life, that was the best feeling ever.

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Hiii, i love your work so much. Thank you for writing those beautifull stories.

Could I ask you to write the story about ghost x reader based on this?

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6mnJpELBf_/?igsh=Y2ExOXVmYWNrNmlh

And could you make happy ending bout them, please?

Thank you❤

~~🐬~~

Hello 🐬 anon! OMG I have a new sea creature anon yay (collecting pokemons??) tyvm for the request and praises I'm in tears🥹💖 and this is such a nice trope to write!! I kinda based on a little drabble I wrote weeks ago (the husband!Simon and car crash wife!Reader), and I hope you will enjoy this since I think this is full of warmth 💖

Husband!Simon*F!Reader.

Summary: You wake up from a car crash and suffer temporary amnesia, your husband Simon helps you with it, and your room is always decorated with your favorite flower by him.

Till It Blooms Again

It’s raining outside.

Rainy days usually bring you tranquility, or that’s what your instincts tell you, but you doubt the preciseness of it after you’ve been told that you temporarily lost your memory due to the severe head smash you got from the car crash a week ago. 

You don’t even know why you woke up on the bed in a silent ward, the dull headache and the pain from your broken ankle set in first, then followed by the man – bulky, wearing a face mask to cover his features, but as his surprisingly soft eyes landed on you, and reassured you in a gentle tone that doesn’t match him, you were utterly confused.

Because who was he?

The masked man cooed in a low voice, trying his best not to frighten you, but the shock in his eyes was truly more overwhelming than yours when you spoke the first sentence since you recovered from your coma.

“Who are you?”

Now fidgeting the ring he gave you before he left to grab you some food, you trace your thumb along the names imprinted inside the ring. Simon and your name engraved the promise of your love towards each other on the ring, yet you stare at the words that just sting you every time you read it slowly in your mind.

“So– Sorry, are you okay?” 

Apologies spilled profusely out of your mouth as the man in front of you stiffed immediately, your words were like lightning to him, as he got struck and left in a trance, until the reality settled in. An audibly shaky breath escaped him, with him blinking furiously, as if it could dispel the grief that started clouding in his brown eyes.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” it isn’t difficult to sense the fake calmness covering his voice, but of course, you didn’t mention it “The doctors said you might have lost your memories from the hit. I’m just not expecting it to truly happen.”

“hmmm… May I ask your name, Sir?”

“Name’s Simon.”

“Simon, why are you here?”

“...I’m your husband. We’ve married five years ago.” and that’s the information you managed to process and believe even if you can’t recognize him from that day.

The vow on the ring stings you. You feel sorry. sorry for the man who stares at you with endless affection swirling in his brown eyes, but you’re unable to return the feelings as all you can barely come up with is your name.

An imperceptible creak barely catches your attention, as Simon steps in with lunch in his left hand, and an elegant flower bouquet you're unable to recognize hugging closely to his toned body carefully.

“Wow, what are they?” You point at the flowers as you dig a hint of pink out of your sparsity

memories.

“Rain Lilies.” He puts them into the bottle on the bed table while responding. “Sure you will like them, love”

He’s not wrong, the peaceful purple provides a serene calmness to your hollow heart.

The bitterness aching and burning in your chest from the day you woke up, devouring you from inside, magically when Simon’s by your side, it subsides. 

“Thank you…” staring at the petals, you grin and meet Simon’s eyes, and he reaches out his hand, but halts suddenly in the air.

“It’s okay.” 

So his palm shakes with hesitation and touches your hair. and ruffles a few times.

You search your mind again, just like what you did every minute from the day you were awake. It’s still occupied by an eerie blank, obscuring you to seek if the man now treats you with such fondness is in there.

Yet you lean into his touch no matter, the warmth that can console you like no others.

You must be a lucky woman to have him wish you with his whole life.

One month later, you’re back to the house where you used to live with Simon – confirmed by friends and family that you regained your knowledge to.

The gray staining your mind is fading day by day, and you start to remember some people and things, such as your name, friends you met in high school, your cousin…

Simon isn’t one of them. You still can’t find him in your past.

The guiltiness sprouts every time you see him. The man never left your side from the first day in the hospital room, helps you shower, chants you goodnight, and teaches you how the world operates.

“It’s okay, there’s no need to feel sorry for.” He hugs you, trying not to squeeze too tightly and scare you off with overloaded intimacy.

This is a habit you two own when you startle awake one night, panting as blood haunts you in hallucinations. You were floating away from reality, arms wiggling in order to anchor yourself from wandering away, and your chest heaves more intensely every second until a pair of heating hands wrap yours.

“I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe, love.” The owner of the voice recited it repeatedly until you focused on him.

There’s Simon, with tired and languid eyes, rubbing circles to soothe your panic. You almost teared up the moment you realized he jumped into comfort you the second he was woken by your noises.

“May I hug you…?" After he shushed you from apologizing, you asked him with irresolution. The coffee-like eyes never darted from your figure widened when he took in your words, but softened with him opening his arms.

“Of course, love.”

He slowly closured them and caged you within his embrace. It’s too conciliatory, his temperature broke the clothes and radiated on you, tempting you to lean closer against him.

You understood that was what you were missing and craving, so you always requested one attentively when you felt insecure, so as he always answered with equal adoration and wide arms.

and now he offers you again when he reads you like an open book and senses your unhappiness.

“Take it slow, you don’t need to force yourself to remember.” He caresses your back as he reassures you.

“What if I never got those memories back?”

“Then let’s create new memories together.”

You know he clearly isn’t as composure to your situation as his exterior when you pull back and notice him blinking frequently, struggling to turf out the tears gathering and sneaking out.

“Yeah, let’s create new memories together.” The smile finally reappears on your face.

Simon decorates the house with rain lilies, which you love the most, and you assume that’s your favorite flower in the past either, since Simon never questioned your obsession with it but put them all over each spot of the house.

So when you suggest buying seeds and planting them at the idle little garden in the backyard, Simon heads out to the tools straight away and comes back with a bag full of seeds for different colors of rain lilies.

“There! Plant the pink one!” The golden velvet of sunshine covers you both when Simon kneels on the ground with you sitting in your wheelchair beside him and instructing him.

“There’s like ten pink already but only one yellow.” 

“Any questions, Mr. Riley?”

“Negative, ma’am” He chuckles as he turns back to fiddle with the soil.

When the sky is smeared with orange, the little garden is finally settled.

“Thank you, Simon!” You flash him a smile when he gets to his feet once again, and you just can't help but smother the dirt on his face, till his cheeks are a bit dirty.

"You look so cute like this." You whistle as he bears your cheekiness and unmoved as you poke him.

"I suggest you to check your eyes, ma'am"

Your journal is filled with the things you experienced, and the memories revealed from the barrier of blurriness. Sometimes you still stare at the whole room of rain lilies, wondering why you still don’t remember the memories between you and Simon, and you want to know if Simon’s thinking the same when he puts on the fresh flowers every week.

It’s definitely a lie if you say you don’t care about the past with him anymore, you’re still curious about how you met, and where you went before.

“We went to a park on our first date?" You quirk your eyebrow with confusion when Simon shows you the photos taken before.

“You chose it, You said there was a sea of rain lilies there and you wanted to check it out.

“I don’t know I’m such an unromantic person to choose a park as the place for a first date…”

“Surely are, because you threw me surrounded by a bunch of bloody couples and dived into the flowers yourself.

“Damn…”

The journal records how the rain lilies grow in your backyard too. When it’s nearly sunset, Simon will support you to the garden and observe them.

“We really need more rain huh. They’re only little sprouts now”

“That’s why they’re called rain lilies.”

“Thank you, Simon, I’m not an idiot.”

“You know water’s wet?”

“You think you married a dork?”

These banters will be written into your journal with an unconscious grin spreading along your lips.

One morning you’re woken up by the obnoxious burnt smell, and you swear that’s the fastest you drag your feet to the living room after you injure your ankle.

“What happened?! Simon?! You okay?!”

You swing open the door to the kitchen when you don’t spot him and the concern swirling in your body.

“...”

You both stand in silence as you look between the plate in Simon’s hand and his embarrassed face.

“This is… uh…”

You watch him blabber as you pick a piece of half-burnt cookie from the plate and take a bite.

“Wow… ehh… this is good, Simon. I mean I guess.”

“The bloody frown on your face said the opposite.”

Eventually, you both burst into laughter when you shove the rest of the piece into his mouth and his face turns into disgust instantly.

He tells you the recipe and process – which you doubt at first but still write them in your journal because he claims it’s the cookie you always made him – and you can’t wait to bake him when you’re able to move around at your own will freely.

You know he can’t stay at home and accompany you every day, but when he packs his stuff in a bag before he leaves, you still can’t help the sadness fuming in you.

“I’ll be back soon, just a month or two.” He pulls you into a hug when you stand at the front door and watch him put on his shoes with a tiny pout.

“I just want you safe, I can wait.” you sigh in his arms, and eventually push him back to fish out a thing stuffed carefully in your pocket, and show it to him.

An amulet lies in the center of your palm. The edge of it is slightly crooked, and a dried rain lily is pasting on it.

"I understand if you think this is stupid, it's just... ummm."

"It's not stupid." he snatches it from your hand "I love it."

"Stay safe, okay?"

He nods to you before stepping out the threshold.

Unknown to you, he presses a kiss on the one you just handed him, and the one you gifted him years ago and always kept in his pocket wherever he went.

The rainy season arrives after a month since Simon was deployed.

You watch the garden through the window as the raindrops splatter on the glass.

Rain lilies bloom abundantly after rain, and counting the days, you're sure when Simon gets back home, the flowers will blossom to their full extent.

You take over his work of replacing the rain lilies in the house with fresh ones, to make the house just like it was before he left.

It doesn’t feel the same.

You stare at the pink rain lily in your grasp.

The house just doesn’t feel the same without Simon, even though they’re still arranged with your favorite flowers.

But isn’t it why you like them? They blossom the most after the rain, after the clouds and dark which make people depressed. It’s most beautiful when they confront the gloominess.

Just like every time you wait at home for months, pray for him to come back in one piece, and cuddle on the bed after reunion.

You hold your breath when you remember the reason you like rain lilies so much.

That’s why you love the rain lily. You remind yourself again as you rush to grab your journal.

You saunter to the front door when you hear the noise of fidgeting keys behind.

“Hey, love.”

Simon greets you with an exhausted voice, pats you on your shoulder, and bends down to untie his shoes, but he stops and straightens up when he hears your greetings.

“Hey, Si.”

His eyes are round like a full moon and mixed with disbelief and excitement.

“You– You call me what?”

“I said…” He tumbles over and lands on the ground with you as you drag him into a tight embrace “Welcome back, Si.”

You caress his hair when he buries his face in your chest and hugs back adamantly, trembles are restrained to its minimum, yet it’s unignorable when you two squish your bodies as if trying to merge together so it’s impossible to be separate again.

“I made your favorite cookies, perfect ones, unlike yours." You hear him huff out a laugh against your chest.

“How about the rain lilies?”

“They’re beautiful, let’s see them together now?”

“Sounds good.”

The flowers flutter like a pink stream combined with a few yellows in the breeze, and you both set eyes on them, basking in the sun.

“I remember why I love rain lilies.” You shift to meet his gaze, and that’s the moment you discover he’s already been staring at you. “They flourish after heavy rains, just like each time I wait for you to come back, that’s when I become complete.”

“Feeling poetic today?”

“Already told you I’m a smart woman.”

Simon’s tummy growls with agreement when you finish your sentence.

“You hungry, big boy?" You snicker, and start walking him back into the house.

"I want to eat the biscuits.”

“No snacks before the meal, babe.”

“Then I want lasagne.”

“Okay… hey I just said no snacks before the meal! you idiot!”

You scoff when Simon ignores you and starts stuffing his mouth with your freshly baked cookies like a hamster, and the rain lilies beside him come into your sight again.

Yeah, just like rain lily. After an unnerving storm, everything will bloom again.

a/n: tyvm for reading! have a nice day/night! :D

[taesancult]

bf!beomgyu 18+ thoughts

warnings: that vmas performance got me fucked up real bad… anyways- kinda feel like i went overboard (?) but warnings include fem!reader, biting, lovebites, sub!beomie, dirty talk, heavy degradation, he’s a little shit, reader gets on top of him, oral (fem receiving), mommy kink, reader is a real meanie to him, beomgyu is referred to as baby boy/good boy/pain slut, lots of hair pulling, and aftercare bc it’s important!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT! MDNI!

bf!beomgyu, who loves a good fight for who will dom the other. you could pin him down on the bed, thinking you have him in the palm of your hand, and he would just laugh at you. “aren’t you cute?” he’d say while smirking at you, and you’d just raise an eyebrow at him. you would immediately start attacking his neck, knowing it’s erogenous zone for him, and he’d try so hard to not lose his composure, but would ultimately fail. he’d start whining with how good your lips feel on his neck, you would stop and look at him with a sly smile. “stop looking at me like that. am i supposed to pretend it doesn’t feel good?” he’s such a little shit. “right. so, you enjoy it when i kiss your neck then?” you smile because you already know the answer, but you just want to instigate. “huh? i’m not enjoying any of this, i’m only letting you because i think it’s cute.” he says with a shrug and a fake look of confidence, and you see right through him. “okay, guess i’ll stop then. do you want to do something else?” you start to get off him, attempting to trap him. “wait!” he’d say so desperately that you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “don’t laugh at me! i just.. i know you like this, so i don’t want you to stop for me.” he’d lie as if you couldn’t see right through him. “beomie, you do realize that makes no sense right?” “ugh just stop talking and come kiss me.” he’d say with a pout, gesturing to his empty lap as you shake your head and laugh again while climbing back on top.

bf!beomgyu, who is so mouthy when he subs, it’s actually the worst. in the best way possible though, because it’s hot hearing him so determined to not give in. you would be decorating his body with pretty lovebites, taking in every whine and moan from him with pride. “feeling good, baby boy?” you’d look up from his torso with a genuine smile. “it’s okay, i guess, but stop calling me that stupid name!” he’d roll his eyes. he actually loves that name, and has said so many times when he’s been intoxicated with pleasure. he loves being called good boy or baby boy, he finds those names to be so endearing, but obviously he can’t admit that. “i’m hurt! thought you liked it.” you’d say with a fake pout as his eyes would widen. “i uh- i do, i’m sorry.” you would smile at him as your fingers caressed down his chest to his stomach, making him giggle a bit in the process. “baby boy, it’ll be so much easier if you just give in to me. let me take control, i promise you’ll feel so good.” you would pout at him. he’d sigh in defeat then let out a small “okay.” and it would be game over for him. you would spend the night making him feel the best he’s ever felt.

bf!beomgyu, who is so fun to ruin. he’s so bratty, tending to resist you when you admit you want to dom him. it’s not that he doesn’t want you to. actually, the thought of you taking control, making his mind fuzzy with only thoughts of you and your pussy, makes his heart race. he thinks it’s more exciting to fight you, though. he enjoys seeing your efforts and the way you cheat to get him on his knees for you. no matter how much he fights you and jokes that you will never see him beg for you, you both know that it’s all a game.

bf!beomgyu, who has a mommy kink when he’s in a sub headspace. when he finally does break, he’s such a sweet good boy. he’s so obedient that you could ask him to be on his knees for hours eating you out, and he would. he also just loves eating you out in general, to the point where you have to pull him away. “baby, fuck- no more!” you’d wince at the overstimulation that his tongue brought you. “you sure, mommy? taste so good, don’t wanna stop.” he’d say as he stares at you with stars in his eyes, and lightly licks at your pretty pussy. you would have to physically pull at his hair to get him away from your core. “yes, angel. you did so well, too well.” you’d praise him out of breath, still pulling at his locks, knowing it makes his cock twitch. you’d pull him up towards you by his hair, he’d whine in pain and pleasure with his eyes tightly shut. you knew it hurt, but that’s what really turned him on. “my little pain slut, how should i reward you?” you coo at him and smirk devilishly. he’d wince at the name, knowing he was in for a long night.

bf!beomgyu, who melts for praise but also gets weak at the knees for degradation. there’s just something about seeing his girlfriend say mean things to him that just really gets his mind, his heart, and his cock going. you had been palming him through his underwear, finally taking it off as you had enough teasing and wanted to see his pretty cock. he softly moaned at the feeling of being free. you didn’t give him a chance to breathe, though, immediately starting to stroke his sensitive cock causing him to throw his head back and moan again. “mommy wait- oh fuck-” he stutters out, not being able to control his own moans as he had been so desperate to feel your touch. as you observed how deeply he was reacting to you, the sadistic urge in you took over. you stopped your hand’s movements all together, looking at him with a sinister smile. “oh my god, you were such an annoying little brat and now look at you? moaning so loud for me and i’ve barely given your stupid cock any attention.” you’d say to him and watch as his cock twitches in anticipation for what you’ll do next. “oh, you’re twitching? are you seriously so pathetic that you get off to me degrading you?” he would moan out, not thinking you were expecting an answer, until you grabbed onto his soft locks, lightly pulling on them so he’s staring directly into your eyes. “i’m talking to you, pain slut. answer me when i speak to you.” you’d tighten your grip on his hair and watch the poor boy spill out apology after apology.

bf!beomgyu, who needs lots of love, attention, and affection after the two of you play together. if you leave to clean yourself up, he’d follow along like a little puppy dog and want to help you. usually after one of your harder session, more degradation heavy ones, you would take a bubble bath together. the warm water feeling so good, you would face him and wrap your arms around his neck. “you did so well beomie, i love you!” he’d smile so big as you’d kiss all along his face, as well as the bruises along his neck and collarbones, then give him a much needed head massage. he’d tell you how he loves you too and appreciates how you always do such a good job of taking care of him while reveling in the feeling of your comforting, gentle touch. you two would finish the night off in each other’s arms with him lying on your chest sound asleep.

GRRRR ARRF ARRF RAWR MEOW ~arisa

author’s note: arisa wrote those animal noises at the very end when i made this draft and it made me laugh so hard i had to keep it in! anyways uh.. i am just going to leave this here bye u never saw me - kisa <3