#SMI guide

[signode-blog]

How to Trade Stochastic Momentum Index: A Comprehensive Guide

Trading in the stock market can be a daunting task, especially with the multitude of technical indicators available to traders. One of the lesser-known but highly effective indicators is the Stochastic Momentum Index (SMI). This tool can be incredibly beneficial for traders looking to refine their strategies and make more informed decisions. In this comprehensive guide, we’ll explore what the…

[t-eaowl]

The true limbus company experience is absolutely eating shit at a stage and trying to win for three days straight only to find a video of the same exact fight finished in four turns

[slutofpsh]

strip for me.

part six | pjs.

pairings: hyungline x reader

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8k.

warnings: smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. having small sips of champagne. this is not proof read.

note: finally finished jay’s solo part. i really enjoyed writing this one as he is really my comfort person in this group. he just strikes me as someone very reliable. also get well soon, our jay! jake’s part will be the next one. i’ll probably need more time for that part since he’s a very hyper member (i mean it in a very affectionate way). anyway, as usual reblogs and replies are highly encouraged. i really appreciate all of your nice feedbacks!

part one; two; three; four; five

slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.

“y/n, please pick up that dress i ordered for you later.” your head whips to look over your shoulder.

a small smile spreads across your face before nodding once, “okay, mom! see you later.” and you leans in to give her a kiss on her cheeks.

as you head outside, you couldn’t help but to feel excited. nerves wrecking and mind wondering of how this day will go. it was two days after your ‘date’ with one of your boyfriends, lee heeseung. and now, its park jongseong.

speaking of, he’s already outside. his red chevy camero parked while he’s leaning on it. patiently waiting for you. his eyes brightens the moment you walked out from the door.

“good morning!” he smiles bigger as he watch how cute your way of walking towards him.

“good morning, baby.” he greets softly and naturally sliding his arms over your waist, tugging you closer.

“were you waiting for long?” you asks a little bit worried.

jay’s eyes are so focused on you, gently watching you carefully. he shakes his head with a soft smile.

“nah.” he says.

only, he was there waiting for over an hour. he wasn’t going to tell you that, knowing so well that it would make you feel bad. he doesn’t want that.

after staring at each other for a while, he guided you over his car, opening the door for you. it was such a sweet gesture that you’re kind of getting used to. the boys always does it for you these days.

“jake’s texting me.” you informed with a bright smile while tapping on your phone to reply.

jay smirks, arms flexing as he manoeuvred the steering wheel. “is he still sulky about yesterday?” he asks that made you giggle a bit.

yesterday, the five of you went to eat dinner at heeseung’s favourite restaurant. it was a very fun time. you spent it just talking about random things, the boys basically exposing their embarrassing past memories to you that made you feel even much closer to them.

in the end, after the dinner someone has to drive you home and they just started to bicker with each other. it slightly stressed you out why they’re making it such a big deal. the banters lasts until you came up with the idea of settling it through rock paper and scissors. you’re laughing the whole duration that they’re playing.

jay won and jake, as always, is sulky. saying that he gets to pick you up today and should automatically be disqualified on driving you home last night.

“a little.” and you made sure you decorate your message with heart emojis just so he wouldn’t be so upset about last night.

he snorted, “he’s so immature.”

you giggled, can’t help but to inwardly agrees. tho, you must also admit that you love this side of jake sim. he’s just so adorable.

“so what’s the plan later?”

the original plan was to not ask anything about the date with jay that you’ve been looking forward to. but you just can’t help yourself.

the date with heeseung just improves so much with your relationship with him and just drawn you both closer. to the point that you don’t feel that nervous around him anymore. you can hold a staring contest for more than 15 seconds now (before it only last for 5 seconds).

jay smiles, knowing that you feel excited to your date just makes his heart jump in joy. since they did talked about how to make it up to you, jay gave deep thoughts about it. he’s very determined about giving his best—if not his all, just to make you feel how he feels towards you.

“its a secret.” and he grins that made you pout.

he glanced and chuckles at how adorable you look. he gently pinches your chin then put his focus back on the road. it was a chill ride and he was so entertaining to talk to. jay’s the type of person who knows alot of things and so you’re learning while chatting with him.

as his car drives over the parking lot, familiar vehicles in the same spot can be seen by you. they’re busy goofing around, but once sunghoon spots jay’s familiar vehicle, he pushed himself off his motorcycle.

jake’s head whips in flash and a big smile automatically spreads across his face. heeseung’s just have a small smile over his lips while leaning over his car, watching carefully. you chuckled, never really getting tired of this scene.

you rolled down the window even before jay can finish parking to wave at the three boys. jake instantly waves back, full of energy.

“sweets!” he greets and even rushed over to your side like an excited puppy.

“calm down, dude! you’ll get drag by my car.” jay hissed while still trying his best to focus on parking.

once rest assured that its safe to open the car’s door, jake didn’t waste any time and bursted it open. jay just rolls his eyes before unclasping your seatbelt for you.

sunghoon smirks while opening the backseat to get your things for you while you’re busy greeting his friends. heeseung trudges closer and almost pushed jake’s clingy ass off.

“hey, angel.” he softly greets then caged you in a tight, warm embrace. he drops a kiss on top of your head then leans his cheeks on it.

“hi, hee.” you says while face pressed on his chest, inhaling his manly scent that you’re slowly getting addicted to.

“jay hits the jackpot, eh? he drove you home last night and then he gets to pick you up today.” he mumbled so lowly, like as if he doesn’t want his friends to hear him sulking.

you chuckled, “that’s fine.” and caress his back carefully.

he smiles, enjoying your warmth. he gave you one last squeeze before leaning away to give you a peck on the lips.

once heeseung’s body moves away from you, sunghoon approaches. his eyes darted at you. he looked so good even in the morning. you gulped, admiring him.

“hi, pretty.” he whispers as he tugs your body closer to his.

pretty? he’s the pretty one for your eyes. the way his black hair compliments his pale skin, thick brows and eyelashes around his pretty eyes, pointy nose with a mole, and natural red lips. kissable lips that you get to kiss whenever you like.

“hi, hoonie.” you mumble affectionately that tugs sunghoon’s heart strings.

there’s really something with the way you say his name. he will never get tired of it. he should really record it and put it as his alarm. or use it whenever he’s losing his cool. it could put into a good use. maybe when he’s masturbating too? he smirks inwardly.

he leans in for his kiss with a playful evil grin on his handsome face. you return his kiss without any clue of the dirty things that occupies his mind.

“its really so unfair that you’d get to drive her home last night and you picked her up today.” jake’s still sulky while you walk over to the class.

as usual, heeseung and sunghoon’s in front towering the three of you. jay and jake’s beside you chatting and bickering from time to time.

“sweets do you like (favorite food)?” jake asks once you’ve settled on your seat.

despite the random question, you gave him a nod. his face brightens like it was such a big relief. jay drags one chair to sit next to you while heeseung went in front to check the workbooks that needed to be submitted. sunghoon went to his seat and laid his head after he placed your things beside you.

“what do you plan on your date?” jay asked his friend who quickly knew that he’s asking these questions because of his plan.

jake’s face looked defensive, “that’s none of your business! don’t copy me.” he hissed at his friend.

that made you laugh and jay only frowned at him. “i already planned our day. i don’t need your lame ideas.” he fired back.

jake cocked one of his brow at his friend, “lame? you’re lame!” and even playfully swat his arm then tries to escape after sending you a flying kiss.

you laughed hard at jake’s cuteness and how they bicker around. jay was left beside you as he flips his friend who just showed him his tongue from his seat.

“he’s so immature.” he complains while shaking his head.

you watch him with a smile, admiring how he’s so patient around his friends. jay is very matured. he rarely shows emotions or big reactions that makes him almost a nonchalant person. but lately, you’ve noticed how he tries to change that towards you.

you can clearly see he’s not that comfortable showing his true emotions. making you feel worried how he’s very cautious about letting people know his fears or weaknesses. he has a strong persona. some people even think he doesn’t have any weak side.

“he’s being cute.” and you reaches over his arm to caress it, a way of saying he’s being so nice.

jay’s eyes drops over your hand and smiles before grabbing it to kiss it once.

“nah, he’s just being annoying.”

you chuckled, “anyway, i have to pick up a dress later. is that okay?” you remembered your mom’s reminders before you stepped out from your house.

jay nods without hesitation. “yeah, sure. we can go pick it up later before we head to my condo.” he says.

you nods and tilts your head. “so we’ll date at your condo?” you ask with curiousity.

jay licks his lips, feeling a little nervous that you may actually find it boring or unclassy. his hyung just took you to their vacation house.

“y-yeah,” then he clears his throat. “is that okay with you?”

your eyes stares at his and nodded without hesitation. no sign of disappointment or anything. just genuine curiosity and a hint of excitement. he always knew you aren’t judgemental, but it still surprises him sometimes.

“what will we do at your place?” you tried your luck of harvesting information.

he smirks, caught on right away. he pinches your cheeks once before standing up to go to his proper seat.

“nice try, baby.” then he drops a quick kiss on top of your head.

a pout made its way to your lips while watching his broad back leaving. you’re totally curious, just like how it was when its your date with heeseung. you smile inwardly then shrugs shoulder before fishing the textbook you’ll be needing for the class.

guess you just need to leave it up to him. besides, you bet you’ll enjoy the day.

the class started once the teacher steps inside the room. naturally, you’re focus falls completely on to the lessons. lately, you find yourself enjoying class even more. maybe because you don’t feel alone anymore. tho, back then they’re really there for you. but their affection truly gave a bigger impact of comfort.

two periods passes like a blur and you’re stretching your arms when jay calls your attention.

“hey.” he says as he leans over, placing one of his hand on your table then the other at the back of your chair, trapping you.

the position itself was enough to send butterflies go crazy inside your stomach. he smiles then stares hardly on your eyes.

“y-yeah?”

“can you help me take those workbooks at the student council office?” he asks casually then pointed at the teacher’s table using his chin.

you glanced at it once then agreed with no hesitation. he nods then started heading towards the table. you followed afterwards. some of your classmates are starting to goof around as it was your vacant period.

“you can carry that.” he’s referring to the fewer stacks of workbooks. it sure does not compare to what he would carry.

“that’s too many. i can handle more than this.” you said, worried that he will have a hard time carrying those.

he shakes his head, declining.

“i can handle this, baby. besides, its just an alibi.” he smugly chuckle before tilting his head, asking you to follow him outside.

your stomach churns after realizing that he didn’t asked for your help because he needs it. its for other reason.

before heading outside, your eyes automatically scanned the room for the other three boys. their eyes are already darted at your direction, like as if they’ve been watching you ever since you stood up.

jake has a pout on his lips. sunghoon’s eyes are piercing as always, but he smirks once met eyes with you. he even made a playful kiss gesture before winking that made you blush. heeseung’s just watching using his soft gaze, only available for you.

“baby.” jay softly calls out.

that snapped you back in your senses then continued following him. on the way to the office, jay initiated conversation that made you feel at ease. not that you’re uncomfy around him, its just knowing that he’s planning to do something at the office makes you feel things.

the scenario at the library with heeseung flashes back to your mind, making you flustered and wet at the same time. your heart thumped in so much anticipation. a little bit scared... but more on excited.

“after you.” he smiles gently while prompting you to walk inside before him. his gentlemen gesture made you blush so hard, unable to even utter a simple thanks.

the whole office is as expected, vacant. jay walks pass you after locking the door behind him. he glanced at you while you silently roam your eyes around. the look on your face made jay smirk a little. it reflects a kitten scared for her life. very cute.

“you can place that here.” he says and puts the workbooks he was holding at the table.

you nodded then trudges towards him to place it near his stacks. his eyes carefully follows your every movement and you can feel his burning eyes, making you feel more nervous.

“are you nervous?” jay reaches for your hand then caress it. his eyes stays at you.

a pout made its way to your lips, “a little.” you admit that made his grin grew wider.

“yeah? why is that?” he asks teasingly then tugs your body close to his.

your brows furrowed and lips pursed, “because of you.”

jay’s very satisfied to hear that from you. the fact that you look very adorable and that he’s the reason of it makes his head go fuzzy. his heart aches in so much delight. he wraps his arms around your body and lets you rest your head on his chest, him nuzzling you close.

“you don’t have to feel nervous.” he says and gulped. its making him even more excited.

“i will always feel nervous around you.”

“is that suppose to be a good thing?” he chuckles.

your arms slides over his waist, “yeah.” a heavy sigh escapes from your lips before you continued. “i feel safe with you, but you can also make me feel nervous.” you admits then slowly pulls off from his warm hug.

he lets you, but kept his hand on the small of your back. his eyes darted at you.

“its because you look so handsome all the time.” you complimented him. well, its true. all of them are incredibly good looking, its just out of all those four boys, jay seems to be the one who needs to hear it the most.

you’ve noticed how he never flaunt how handsome he is and you remembered that one time where jake said that he rarely take photos as he doesn’t like seeing his face. that’s actually the most non-sense you’ve heard that time. how can he not like seeing that kind of face?

you figured you need to do extra effort on complimenting jay, try to help him realize how beautiful he is for your eyes— and probably to almost everybody around.

“baby...” jay’s out of words. you totally caught him off-guard and you’re happy about it. feeling proud even.

“what? i’m just stating a fact.” with a small smile on your pretty face.

jay’s heart strings tugs. he knew he likes every bits of you, but its still amazing how you manage to still make him feel things like this. at some point he thinks that you have some sort of magic spell and they’re all under it. he’s not complaining tho.

he leans in for a very soft kiss. you’ve felt every emotions he’s having at the moment.

when he pulls away, your eyes looked hazy and lips a little more red after the kiss. he smirks then caress your cheeks carefully. the two of you stares at each other’s eyes for a while before he talked again.

“take off your panties and sit down on the sofa.” he instructs that made your heart thump and stomach churn.

he didn’t have to even repeat himself. he guides you and you obeyed without any complain. the very familiar sofa causes so much memories to flashback and you just can’t help but to blush.

he made you sat down and just like he requested, you reached for your underwear and slides it off. he watches carefully while positioning himself in front, his eyes totally fixed at it. he licks his lips, almost salivating at the view.

“i want to taste your sweetness.” he mumbles after you manage to take your panties off.

he naturally placed both of his hands on your thighs and spread it open for him. the sight of your wet core made him even more thirstier. he can’t remember anything that can make him arouse like how the way you do it.

his eyes shifts at you and leans forward for a quick kiss. after liplocking for a few seconds, he pulls away then dips his head to start eating you out.

first lick on your slit and you’re already a whole mess. gasping lightly, your one hand flew over to your mouth trying not to make so much noise.

“damn, that’s good.” jay mumbles and then started eating you out. his lips attached to your core. he’s licking, sucking it. making sure he left no part of it that his tongue touched. he’s so addicted.

he looks at you over his eyelashes and his heart felt proud seeing you eyes tight shut, lip caught in between your teeth and head pans left and right.

“look at me, baby.” he says shortly that made you pry your eyes open. it was a bit hard as the pleasure’s keeping you from doing it easily.

“watch while i eat you out so good.” he added before diving in to eat you so hard like it was his last meal in his life.

feeling his tongue and lips attached at your core felt so good, having to watch as he does it makes you go crazy. it was a sight to see and the pleasure he gives just adds to the intensity of the situation.

“oh jay...” you moaned that he answered with a hum, the vibration it made threw your head back. your eyes slightly rolled at the back of your head. he taps your thighs, indicating that he wants your eyes back at him and so you obliged.

jay saw how hard your teeth are sunk into your beautiful lips and the way you clenched hardly around his tongue indicates that you are close to release his long awaited sweet juice. he raised one of his hand then slides two fingers with no warning. it made you jolt and moan in pleasure.

“are you close, baby?” he asks so softly. contradicting to his tone is his evil sexy smirk while watching carefully how your face contorts.

you nodded eagerly that made him chuckle, “give it to me then.” he says as he rut his fingers inside you in a faster pace.

“ugh,” you whimpered and watch how he laid his tongue near your hole, making sure it touches perfectly so he can catch every bit of your release.

the sight was enough for you to cum. it was so sensual and jay looked so hot doing it. jay continued to fuck you with his fingers despite after cumming and shaking a bit because of it.

“j-jay...” you moaned and shut your eyes close, unable to handle the pleasure and being stimulated by it.

he teared his gaze off from you and focused on your pulsating pussy. he pulled his fingers off then licks it off clean before attaching his lips on your hole to suck all those juices off.

“oh my gosh..” you moaned, back arching a little and eyes cracking open in surprise. the feeling was undescribably good.

jay’s wiping off some remnance on the corner of his lips before he smiles lovingly at you. he loves your fucked out state, still in trance of how good he just made you feel. he gently grabs your hand and caress it before taking it to his lips, kissing it affectionately.

“was that good?” he asked even though your face was enough to let him know that you indeed enjoyed every bit of it.

a nod is all you could give him as you’re still high from your climax. he chuckles and kissed your inner thigh once before standing up to collect some tissues to clean you.

“glad to make up from the last time.” he mumbled, referring to when he refused you the release you’ve been anticipating. back when he’s still punishing you.

a small smile and a light chuckle escapes your lips, “that was worth it.” you commented that earned a wide grin from the handsome boy now leaning down to start cleaning his girlfriend’s sweet pussy.

“jay is really my most hated person at the moment.” jake commented as he walks beside you over the parking lot.

the two of you are hand in hand while the three other boys are behind, talking about this topic you couldn’t even relate to. jake’s not that sulky anymore, but his jealous ass can’t help but to be upset over his friend.

you caress his warm hands wrapped on yours, “oh come on, i know you love him.” the teasing smile on your face made jake giddy inside. he can’t explain how happy he is now that you’ve grown closer to all of them. comfortable enough to tease him like this.

he smirks, leaning his face closer. “not as much as i love you, sweets.” and with no warning he attached his lips on yours.

the kiss made your heart leap. after a couple of seconds he pulls away with a smile.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he lifts his other hand to pinch your cheeks lightly as you nod your head.

“take care of her, jay.” jake says with a playful glare on his face.

sunghoon’s smirking as he silently approach you to give you a kiss on your lips. he mumbled a short good bye before placing your things on jay’s car.

“you don’t even have to remind me.” jay snobbishly says at his friend.

heeseung shakes his head, a bit fed up to their banters. his eyes shifts to you and they soften instantly. he smiles before leaning to kiss you on your forehead then to your lips.

“i love you,” he mumbles then rests his forehead on yours. “have fun tonight for me.”

you nodded, cheeks blushing hard. “i love you too, hee.”

his heart beats in content and leans away. he gave jay a clap on his shoulder before waving to go approach his own car.

jake’s still there, shooting glares to his friend. jay snorted as he slid his arms over your waist.

“dude why can’t you just be normal like heeseung hyung and sunghoon? they just bid good bye and left.” jay commented.

jake rolls his eyes then focuses back on you.

“i love you, sweets. text me whenever you have time or if you got bored with jay.” he jokes, tho he knew you wouldn’t feel that way. his friend is not a boring person and he knew you’ll have a great time with him. its just his way of teasing him.

you chuckled, finding it totally funny. jay swats his friend’s arm.

“you’re so clingy!”

jake just stuck his tongue out before finally walking off. jay sighs and faced you, “he’s so annoying.”

he then opened the car’s door for you.

“he won’t be jake if he don’t tease you guys.” you stated before getting in his car. he carefully secured your spot before he smiles.

“you’re right.” then he closes your door to go around and ride the driver’s seat.

“where’s the store again, baby?” he asks while buckling his seatbelt.

you quickly pulls your phone to check your mom’s message. she texted you about the dress she’s saying a while ago. you told him the name and location of the store. he nods his head and started driving right away.

he lets you connect to the bluetooth of the car for music. a subtle music plays while both of you talks to each other. it was such a chill ride, laughing and teasing each other.

as you arrive at the store, jay parked perfectly and went out to open the door for you. he placed his hand at the small of your back while guiding you inside.

“hi, welcome!” the lady by the counter greets you with a big smile.

“hello, i’m here to pick up a dress.” you gave her the slip that your mom gave you to claim it.

she nods and even ask you to wait. you glanced over jay whose roaming his eyes around the store filled with beautiful dresses. you smiled and leans closer to his body. you felt his hand caress your back as he rest his head on yours.

“what’s the dress for?” he asks.

you pursed your lips at his question, “its for her friend’s birthday party. she’s taking me with her.” then pulls away to look at him.

he stares at your eyes then smiles, “hmm. okay.” and kisses your nose gently.

your heads whipped at the lady when she finally got the dress. it was on your favorite color and looked so cute.

“do you want to try it so we’ll know if the adjustments are perfect?”

“can i?” you asked jay.

he nods without hesitation. “yeah, definitely.”

you nodded and one of the staff guided you inside their hallway where their stalls are located. jay said he’ll be perfectly fine so you don’t have to worry and take your time.

the dress looked good on you. the color compliments you perfectly and the style just fits you. you can’t help but to thank your mom for understanding your style.

“is it good?” the lady at the entrance of the fitting room smiles warmly, admiring how good you look.

you nodded your head, pleased. “yes, thank you so much. its perfect.”

a big satisfied smile spread across her face. “glad you liked it.”

she left you to change back to your original clothes and after that you went to the counter to sign something. she handed you the paper bag and thanked you as you head outside.

jay’s by his car, leaning attractively. you noticed some people craning their necks just to look at the handsome boy. it boost something in you while watching him staring at you with a warm smile. to have all his attention focused on you despite some eyes fixated on him.

“all done, baby?” he asks and hand already reaching for your waist as you approach him.

you nodded and even raised the paperbag.

he smirks then kisses your cheeks as he grab the paperbag from you.

“i have something for you.” he stated that made you look at him with full curiosity.

“what is it?”

he opens the backseat and placed your paperbag inside then he pulls out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. your lips gaps at the sight of it.

“w-what...” you gulped then accept it from him.

“you liked it?” and arms wrapped around your waist once again.

“yes.” and pouts. “what’s it for?”

he tilts his head with a slight furrowed brows. “do i need a reason to give flowers to my beautiful girlfriend?”

that made you blush hard. stomach turning and heart thumping fast, reacting for jay. it was like an automatic response already. to even think that he tugs your heartstrings like how heeseung does is unbelievable.

“thank you so much.” you mumbles cutely that made jay melt.

“anything for you.” and he placed a gentle kiss at your forehead.

the whole ride to his condo unit, you got your eyes fixated at your flowers. he can’t help but to feel proud of it. if this is how you’ll react every time you receive flowers then he will gladly give you all the flowers in the world.

after a few minutes, you noticed that you’re driving inside a very expensive and private condo building. the security itself is tight, but once the guards saw jay’s familiar car they let him through easily.

your mouth gaps while looking around the tall fancy buildings.

“you live here?” you couldn’t help but ask.

he chuckles finding you adorable. “yeah.” he casually said.

you knew that the boys are wealthy. mainly why you’re aware that they get away from their troubles too easily.

“all alone?” your question caught him slightly off-guard.

heeseung lives with his parents and older brother. you’ve been in their house a couple of times. tho you didn’t meet his parents yet, you remembered him mentioning that he lives with him.

jake also lives with his parents. you’ve been in his house once. you met his mom and she’s very sweet.

sunghoon’s house is the nearest to the school. around an expensive private neighborhood. you’ve heard rumors about their million dollar mansion.

“yeah.” jay says. he doesn’t seem sad about it, but you can’t help but to be worried by thinking that he’s alone here.

jay glanced at you and chuckles when he saw how you look at him with so much worry.

“its fine, baby. my mom got that condo for me since our main house is far from the city. she doesn’t want me driving that long all the time.” he comforts you, reaching his hand on you to caress your thighs for consoling.

“don’t you feel lonely?” you ask, still worried.

he shakes his head right away to assure you. he’s also not lying about it. he doesn’t feel lonely at all and he actually like living independently.

“besides, heeseung hyung have a unit at the same floor as mine. he sleeps their from time to time.” he assures you.

“okay.” and finally smiles.

he chuckles, “you can come visit me too, you know?” with a smirk.

that made you blush, but you try to conceal it with playful glares shooting right at him.

“are you kidding? the security is so tight. i doubt i’ll manage to go through it.”

he scoffs, “i’ll let them know that you’re my girlfriend.” he winks that made you roll your eyes.

“you’re so cute.” he commented and finally started parking his car.

after he manages to park, he went out of the car as you patiently wait for him to open the door. he grabs some of your things at the backseat using one of his hand. the other reaches for yours and the two of you walks over the elevator hand in hand.

jay’s condo unit looks so cozy. just by one look you can already tell he picked all the things. it screams so much like him, fits him perfectly.

“make yourself feel at home, baby.” he says.

you slowly walked over the big glass wall to look at the beautiful view in front. the city looks incredibly relaxing. all the cars driving and people walking that looked like toys from the height of his condo unit is amusing.

“hey,” he approaches and caged you in a back hug.

your hand rests at his arms wrapped around you.

“go to my room and change into this.” and he pulls away to hand you a paper bag that has a logo of a very expensive brand.

“what...”

he smiles, “i’ll cook for us then we’ll have dinner at my balcony. sounds good?”

your eyes stares at him and you can’t help but to feel so overwhelmed at how romantic this man is. you nodded your head and accept the paperbag with a clouded mind.

he smirks, “great.” then placed a kiss on your head.

“take your time getting ready. i also asked someone to buy some make up products for you.” he raised a hand and scratch the back of his head, looking a bit shy.

“i’m n-not sure if you use those brands, but—” you threw yourself at him for a tight hug to let him know how much you appreciate his efforts for this.

“thank you so much, jay.”

he melts into your hug and returns it. “no problem, baby.”

you two stayed like that for a few more seconds before you headed to his room and he went to the kitchen to start preparing for the dinner. your heart felt so full just by hearing that he will cook for you.

jay’s really sweet. he got you flowers and this dress. also the make up. you can’t believe he will be this considerate.

his room looks neat. a few guitars displayed at the corner. some liquor bottles at a cabinet. a few pictures that you checked. one with his parents and another one with his friends. they’re all smiling so wide at the picture.

another picture is also the four of them, but it was a younger version of them. they all looked adorable and despite knowing that they have a strong bond, you can’t help but to notice how obvious the difference between their personalities.

heeseung have this small smile, hair fixed perfectly. jake’s smiling so widely and even holds a peace sign by one of his hand. sunghoon’s not smiling at the camera and have one of his eyebrows raised. he looked so snobby. jay have this warm smile that indicates how happy he is while having his friends beside him.

you heard out of all the four, he’s the only one who doesn��t have a sibling. a part of you felt sad for it, because you knew it yourself. you know how it feels having no one to play with and talk to. yes, you have your mom but there are things you cannot share with her. sometimes, you wished you have a sibling.

thankfully jay found it with his friends. a smile spreads on your face while caressing the picture of them using your thumb.

you spent almost two hours preparing for this dinner. a few moments after, you heard a faint knock at jay’s door.

“come in.” you mumbled and soon the door creaks open, revealing jay.

your mouth gaps at how good he looks. he’s wearing this semi formal outfit just to fit the vibe of your dress.

“wow.” he mumbles, eyes fixed at you. his eyes flickers with so much adoration. he always think you are pretty and when he saw that dress, he already know it will look good on you. but now that you’re wearing it, its a different thing.

he walks closer towards you with careful steps. taking time to appreciate how gorgeous you are. it made you blush and makes your heart warm. jay just never fails to make you feel like you’re the prettiest person alive.

“you look breath-taking.” he sincerely said and rests both of his hands on your hips, fingers slightly digging on the skin. he can’t help but to get excited about it.

you giggled and wrapped your arms over his nape. “you look so good too.”

he smiles and leans in for a gentle kiss on your cheeks. “but not as good as you.”

after both of you got satisfied on admiring each other, jay guided you outside the room. he blindfolds your eyes saying he wanted to surprise you with the set up he made himself.

its not very grand, (it is) but still he made effort. regardless, you’re sure you will love it. just how he prepares everything, you’re already more than thankful.

“oh my gosh...” both of your hands flew in your mouth in amusement.

a trail of red roses are made towards his balcondy where a simple yet elegant table was set up for your date. it was perfect.

he laid his hand in front of you with a handsome smile. satisfied with how you reacted. he was thrilled, almost a little nervous, as to how you will take this dinner thing. thankfully, you looked happy about it. with slight tears of joy brimming your eyes, he knew he did a good job.

the two of you walks towards the dinner table and he even pulled a chair for you.

“thank you.” you can’t stop smiling as he sat in front then takes care of you.

he told you the dishes he prepared for tonight and the pure amusement in your eyes didn’t slip off from jay’s eyes.

“you cooked this?” amazed at how it looked like something that will be served at a five star restaurant.

he nods his head, very proud. he tilts his head and asked you to take a bite. just how the meat melts in your mouth is perfect. you aren’t even exaggerating, but it taste so good.

“its perfect, jay! you’re such a good cook!” you exclaimed that made jay smile even bigger. his palm rests on top of chest.

“i’m glad you liked it baby.”

he pours you a glass of champagne. “are we even allowed to...?” your words halts referring to the alcohol when you’re just on your senior highschool.

he laughs, “its fine. just a glass of it won’t hurt.” he assures you.

you nodded, a little excited about it. he saw that and chuckles.

“but make sure not to drink too much baby. i don’t want to take you home drunk. i will be on your mom’s bad side. we don’t want that, do we?”

you laughed lightly and nodded.

the night went on with just the two of you talking about random stuff. he will ask you things he was curious of you and you’ll do the same thing. as the conversation went on and on, you find yourself feeling more comfortable around jay.

“when did you start liking me, jay?” you suddenly asked after remembering heeseung sharing this cute information as to how it all started for him.

somehow it made you curious for the other boy’s version.

jay’s not caught off-guard about it. well, maybe a little but not too much. he sighs and eyes dropped at his almost finished meal. he tilts his head, one hand plays through his wine glass.

“honestly, i was actually a little annoyed at you before.” he revealed with a chuckle.

you instantly got your brows furrowed at this new acquired information.

“what? why?” curious.

he laughs, finding it funny. finding his old self funny for it.

“because of how down bad you got my friends on you.” he started. he stops for a while then let out a sigh.

“i was the last one to discover these feelings for you. i guess its safe to say i was the most denial.” he clicks his tongue. “like i said, i’m kind of annoyed at you.”

your lips pursed, listening attentively.

“i transferred to our school when we’re on nineth grade, remember?” he says and you nodded your head.

jay doesn’t go to your current school before. since his home is far from here, he used to attend somewhere near his house. but he transferred because he wanted to be with his friends. you still remember clearly how the girls in your class went crazy for the new guy, park jongseong.

he was the talk of the whole campus for weeks. saying how perfect he is and how his group of friends are just a bunch of visuals. well, you couldn’t disagree with that.

“even before i can move here, they’re already been talking about this girl nonstop.” he started again then eyes focused on you. “they talk about you like you’re the only girl in the campus.”

your heart thumped faster at what he said.

“i was annoyed because at some point, they don’t give enough attention to my transfer to the school. all they can tell me is how amazing you are.” he chuckles. “out of curiosity and also irritation, i started to watch you from a far just like them. i was convincing myself that i will find something that can make my friends realize that you aren’t that special.” he couldn’t help but to smirk.

“but i just found myself drawn towards you. suddenly i’m not watching you for the main reason i started it. suddenly its because i was caught up, and just like them i fell...” his hand reached over and fingers plays carefully with yours. “and fell continuously until i cannot rise from this feelings anymore.”

your eyes softens and fingers hold his tightly.

“instead of finding reasons for them to unlike you, i found the reasons why they like you so much, baby.”

you pout and eyes watered with so much affection. heart felt so full because of the things he just said. you can’t believe it. jay, despite being the one whose been a little more nicer out of all of them, still felt distant before. his nonchalant demeanour made you think he don’t like you as much as the others. turns out you’re wrong.

“i love you, baby.”

you sniffs and stood up from your chair to approach him. he moves his chair back a little to give you space and let you sit at his lap comfortably.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face on the side of his face.

“i love you.” you mumble so gently that knocks out the air out of jay’s heart.

to hear those words straight out from your mouth has a different effect on him. he was at awe for a moment before he finally pulls himself back to his senses. he made you face him and cupped your face affectionately.

“you’re very special to me, y/n. i may not be as expressive as the others as i am afraid to show my vulnerability, but please always remember that i am so soft for you. you are my soft spot.” he said while staring right into your eyes.

“please never forget that.”

you caress his cheeks, “i know how strong of a person you are, jay. but always know that showing weakness doesn’t mean you are not strong. you are a human after all. for me, you’re a very wonderful person.” and with that he leans in for a heated kiss.

his kisses are intense and so is how his hand rests on your face. your eyes shut and just enjoys this moment with jay, hand rests over his shoulder. his open mouthed kiss moves from your lips to your chin, then down to your neck.

“jay..” you moaned.

“i want to fuck you here.” he mumbles that instantly sent your mind afar. you are loss and too caught up in the moment that you barely give a care if his balcony is wide open and free for people to see.

“please...” you mumble that made jay go crazy.

“stand up and lean on the railings.” he instructed that you obliged right away.

your breaths are heavy while you wait full anticipation for jay to get in touch with you once again. the view beneath his balcony is very pretty and honestly add to the feels. you’re too turned on and the arousal is already poisining your right mind to think about anything but jay’s dick.

not long after, his toned chest are pressed on your back. he dips his head and kisses your exposed shoulder blades towards your neck.

“you’re so beautiful.” he compliments as one of his hand rummages to pull your dress up so he can fuck you from the back. “so damn beautiful.” he added then slides your panties to the side.

he has his zipper open and his cock pulled outside, so hard and ready for you. he licks his fingers then strokes his dick a few times before placing the starts trailing your line.

“lets get you wet enough first, hm?” he softly whispered, lips kissing you on your ears.

you whimpered and hand rests at his thigh behind you.

“i don’t want my baby hurting from my big dick.” he chuckles and kept on tracing the line. his dirty words were enough to get you dripping wet for him.

“jay...” you said, out of breath even if you aren’t doing anything.

he chuckles, finding you adorable. “all right, i’m coming in baby.” he whispered then slowly put his cock inside of you.

the stretch made you moan out and whimper softly. once he managed to put it fully, he tries to make you face him.

“give me a kiss.” he demanded that you gave in. the kiss was slightly messy, but you didn’t care.

he asked you to hold on the railings as he started to fuck into you, his large hands dominates your hips. he started slow, enjoying how tight you felt around his cock. but the pleasure it was giving him made it impossible not to go faster.

he started rutting his cock in a faster pace that felt delicious. he groans as he peppered your back with light soft kisses. it was affectionate and honestly started to drive you crazy.

“ugh,” you moaned heavenly at the intensity of how jay’s fucking you at the moment.

his thick cock just slides in and out of you, reaching the parts of your insides that’s been longing for him. one of your hand hold his arm for support as you can feel your knees weakening from too much pleasure.

the breeze are slightly cold but the heat coming from both of your bodies are enough to keep you warm.

“oh my gosh... so good.” you mumble as your eyes rolls at the back of your head. jay’s brows are furrowed as he looks down on your privates connecting. the erotic sounds of your skins slapping making him feel alot of things, arousal being on top of it.

“yeah baby. you’re right.” he says. “you feel so damn good around me.” and he started fucking faster and deeper.

it was so intense and not surprising that you’re reaching your climax already. the familiar knot forming inside your stomach causes you to clench around jay’s throbbing dick. it sends instant pleasure for him, making him groan and moan. he sounded so sexy.

“cumming for me?”

you nodded your head, lips caught in between your teeth.

“me too, baby. i’m close too.” he then continued trying to drive both of you to reach that release.

you came undone to jay’s dick and is a moaning mess after it. he groans heavily and kept on fucking his hot seeds back inside your tight hole.

he made your head turn to face him for a messy kiss, giggling and chuckling in between while still helping both of you in riding your high.

“i love you so much.” he says, connecting your foreheads together.

you managed to pull a small smile, despite being drunk in lust over the climax you just reached. “i love you, jay.” and with that he leans for a peck before smirking.

“let me fuck you on the couch too.” and then started guiding you inside his dim lit condo. the only source of light are from the bright moon and some from the building next to his.

he sat down and helped you get on top of him, carefully placing both of his hands on your waist. he watches how you hold his dick and aligned it perfectly to your entrance. his eyes darted at you and hold a stare while you slowly sunk on his dick making you both moan in pleasure.

jay’s a tough man. he’s very independent and ever since he was a little, he refused to be viewed at the weaker side. he’s known for his nonchalant side, but with you he’s more than willing to show his vulnerable side. the side that melts completely to your soft touches and the side that submits to your soft gaze. he will fully let you take over him whole and he promised he will never regret. he perfectly knew his weakness and she’s right in front of him, looking so beautiful as always.

permanent tag-list:

@stacey-stonem

strip for me tag-list:

@shawnyle @baekxo07 @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @shanb1n @kaykay11sworld @starfallia @blank-velvet @nctislifue @avaleyshin @kpopslays @jooniesbears-blog @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @d-dilemma @pinksweetlittlepiano @sweetjaemss @yangwonx1 @jenniepaii @jakeswsh @brii-sunwoos-version @luvsjwonn @arimiu @sleepingisweak @ninalove323 @bluej4ym @kk-kitten @leesura @oceanyocean @holyfestfire @hooniebaekgu @nikiswifiee @shjsnjkj @loumin908 @nikistar @renne-s2 @pinksweetlittlepiano @srhnyx @farashawhee @iilwji @yangwonx1

[eunandonly]

HOW BOYNEXTDOOR LOVES YOU

how boynextdoor shows their love for you, even if it isn't always by words

( 対 ) boynextdoor + fem. reader 1230WC · tooth rotting fluff contains! skinship, kissing so cheesy holy sharts / archive

은 : sorry for posting so late >< i've been so busy lately because of exams and couldn't post, but i'm back now ^^ i hope you enjoy ~

myung jaehyun

with myung jaehyun, love isn’t just quiet care. it’s a bit like him; bubbly and playful. he’ll throw his jacket over you with a little joke and a smile that warms you up more than the jacket itself, winking as he pulls the lapels up dramatically to keep you protected from the cold wind. 

he notices things, even if he pretends not to. “you’re holding your bag funny. give it to me.” he’ll say, taking it from you before you can even protest. it doesn’t matter if it weighs a ton. jaehyun will carry it for you.

on rainy days when you two are sharing an umbrella, he’ll tilt it to your side so you’re protected from the raindrops even as his side gets drenched in rainwater. when you try to tilt the umbrella back to him, or tell him to get under it properly, he’ll just smile and say, “i like the rain.” before giving you a peck on the cheek.

and with all this, jaehyun never expects anything in return. jaehyun gives his love without expectation or demand because, well, he loves you.

park sungho

sungho could listen to you talk forever. whatever nonsense you say, whatever irrelevant thing you’re rambling about, if it’s you, it becomes poetry to park sungho. 

sungho remembers the smallest details about you. he remembers the way you take your coffee, the name of the book you once mentioned during a conversation, the exact shade of the sky on the day you first said “i love you.”

sometimes, he even remembers the things you forget; the date of your childhood hamster’s birthday, the lyrics to a song you used to hum under your beeath as you busied yourself in the kitchen- which he took the time to figure out what song it exactly was so he could play it for you on the guitar one day- the way you scrunch your nose when you’re deep in thought. some people say these random bits and pieces of you are useless, but sungho keeps them close, storing them in the quiet corners of his mind to pull out when the time is just right.

“you like this one, right?” sungho will say, handing you a drink exactly the way you like it. “you wanted to watch this movie,” he’ll murmur as he turns on a film you mentioned briefly weeks ago. “you always sleep better when it rains,” he’ll say, opening a window when the first drops hit the pavement.

park sungho says your name like it’s the most beautiful word in the world. it’s not just a name to him, it’s much more than that. 

lee sanghyuk

riwoo often reaches for you without realising. his fingers brush against yours when you’re walking side by side, barely a whisper of his warm skin against yours, but enough to make your breath hitch. he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear absentmindedly during conversations, his touch light as if he’s handling delicate glass.

riwoo doesn’t even notice how often he does it. how his body naturally gravitates towards yours like second nature. when you’re laughing, he leans in just a little closer. you have a pretty laugh. when you’re focused on something, his hand settles on your wrist.

riwoo’s actions aren’t calculated. they’re not meant to fluster you. it’s simply how he is. he’s the type of person whose love is felt in the warmth of his palm against your back as he guides you through the door, in the way his knee knocks against yours under the table, in the way his drapes his arm around you.

sometimes when riwoo realises, it's different. the moment he realises that his fingers linger too long, that his touch isn’t just habit but something more, he hesitates. his eyes flicking to yours to make sure you’re not uncomfortable in any way. when he gets your reassurance, he shakes off any doubt with a small smile, his hand staying where it is.

han dongmin

taesan’s love is found in ink stained fingers and the way his lyrics always seem to sound like you. he doesn’t always say it outright, it’s not always blatantly there. but if you listen carefully, you’re woven into every song, every notes, every unfinished verse scribbled in the margins of his notebook.

maybe taesan doesn’t say “i love you” in the way others do. but he’ll give you pieces of himself in a song, in a melody, in that pretty voice of his, and his eyes soften when he sings the lines that remind him of you.

when you can’t sleep in late hours of the night, taesan will sing you to sleep with a new song he worked on earlier that day, smiling down at you fondly as you doze off to his soft voice.

it’s taesan’s way of showing you love. he might not be the best and telling you exactly how much he loves you with words, but his music says enough for you to know. the lyrics that are always referencing you in one way or another, the melody that sounds a bit too much like your pretty laugh. he writes about late night talks and your pretty eyes, the way the silence between you two are comforting instead of lonely.

kim donghyun

leehan’s love for you is found in the way he looks at you- like you hold the stars in your hands, like you’re the only person existing in the vast universe. his gaze lingers a second too long, that moment always filled with unspoken words that can’t quite be translated into words.

it’s the way leehan’s pretty eyes soften when you talk, the way he watches you even when you’re not looking, memorising each and every detail of your face. he thinks you’re the best thing that ever happened to him, and he can’t help but admire you.

you’ll sometimes feel a gaze locked on you when you’re busy with something- cooking, studying, you name it. and when you turn, it’ll be leehan, staring at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile that only holds fondness. seeing you flustered from his gaze only makes him watch you more, smile widening when your cheeks turn pink as you pretend you didn’t see him staring at you like that.

when you finally meet leehan’s gaze, when you finally catch the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, you’ll understand just how much leehan loves you, even if it’s done quietly.

kim woonhak

woonhak’s love for you is found in laughter, the kind that leaves you breathless with a pain on your side, the kind that turns even the worst days into something bearable.

woonhak’s the person who notices when you’re quiet with tired eyes and a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes. instead of asking what’s wrong and focing out words you don’t have, he nudges you with his shoulder, makes a ridiculous face and cracks the worst joke you’ve ever heard since you existed.

and somehow, somehow, it works.

perhaps the joke is so terrible, it made you laugh, or maybe it’s just that face woonhak made, but it gets a smile out of you. and that’s all he needs. 

woonhak always seems to know what you need. and when you laugh, the weight lifting just a little, he smiles like he’s gotten the whole world. 

well, to woonhak, he has.

[skyrigel]

GIVE ME MORE BENEDICT SHORTS NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW 😖😖😖😭😭😭 I BEGGGGGG 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️

Just like that | B.B

Warning: 18 +, handjob, cock worshipping, first time, inexperienced!reader ( lemme know if any other ) words : 1k

Rigel's note 🪩 : just because you begged ;) [ nah, ily ] got the idea from the emoji btw, thanks for being cute Mic <333 My requests are open everyone :)

" Like this ? "

He shaked his head and in swift soundless movements, he was behind you. His whole body was pressed to you and his face just mere inches away from caressing your cheek. He was quite amused when your dropped your brush.

" Here—" Benedict picked it up and his fingertips lingered more than it should before a cocky smile made it's way to his beautiful face.

" No, no." He pouted and took your wrist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he guided your stance, " like this, see, now—" He began moving his hand that armoured around yours, the soused brush stroked against the canvas in smooth easy way.

" Is this good ? " You made the mistake of turning your face to him, he smiled when your cheeks flushed pink, a shade your brush withheld but not as bright as it glittered you. Benedict made no effort to back away, his breath mingled with yours as his mouth lowered carefully, slowly and slowly, his fingers brushed against your face, thumb caressing the colour he had painted you in.

" This is very good." He whsipered on your lips breathlessly, taking the brush away from your hand and you gave in, his eye's never leaving yours, he enjoyed it very much.

" Benedict...." You gasped when he held your waist, pulling you closer, your eye's widened and he exhaled delightfully, you could feel his hardened desire against you.

His nose nuzzled on your hot skin and you crumbled against his proximity, he was hardening more, his erection was shooting shivers down in your bones and flesh.

" I am out of my mind." He breathed sharply as he withdrew his hands, shaking from holding back from you.

His expressions were pained as he closed his eyes, what you wouldn't give to see him smile, to take this pain away.

Your eyes, shameless as they got, stared at his crotch, Benedict's jaw slacked when he caught you red handed and you looked up, too dazed.

" Funny isn't, the thing you do to me." He laughed but it was humour less, it burned with longing and want and accusation. He ran a hand through his hair, biting down his lower lip.

" Benedict I..." He looked up, you stumbled on your words, your hands trembled, you were always a curious one, but it was more than curiousity. It was desire and passion.

" Can I touch you ? " Your heart was racing so fast that you wouldn't be surprised if it broke out of your ribs and fell, instead you would pick it up and give it to Benedict, it belonged to him anyway.

Benedict blinked, once and then the corner of his lips quirked, he cleared his throat and his adam rippled, it amazed you how beautiful and rhythmic everything about him was.

" Are you...are you sure ? " He all but groaned, his eyes were twinkling, like a dream come true, you nodded.

Your hands were getting sweaty as Benedict removed his breeches, he chuckled when you stared, no, you were gawking at his length.

Benedict was well built, everything about him was big and loud and as it felt, there was no exceptions.

And the next you knew was that, he was beautiful, nerves pulsed rhythmically as his eyes dazed, his mouth curved when he sat on the couch, you were standing in front of him, still gawking.

" You are...you are beautiful." You said looking up from your lashes, realising you had said it out aloud. Benedict's grin was splitting his whole face, reaching ear to ear.

You moved slowly and carefully, wiping your hands on your satin clothes, he was too beautiful and precious, you were afraid to leave marks.

You tips touched the head of his cock, and it twitched at the contact, Benedict huffed a strained breath, he was smiling. A electrifying force jolted from the touch, shooting in your whole body, you buzzed inside out, when you looked up at him, you smiled too.

" It's... it's wet." You said, thumb caressing his tip as if it were his cheek, sticky silvery fluid beaming it up.

" Uh huh." Benedict shifted, a gasp escaped his lip as he tried to bite it down when you held him in your fist, he liked that, you could that tell behind the pain, there was pleasure indeed.

You applied pressure, Benedict's eyes softened, " move, " he moaned, cupping your hand and guiding it up and down in smooth strokes, he was being so needy and it drived you crazy, how much you wanted to please him.

" like this ? " You asked, a playful smile playing on your lips.

He nodded languidly, eyes blown when you increased your pace, he was panting and his throat started making sounds that came deeper from his body, your palm were slippery with his fluid as you were breathing hard, your stomach clenched to think how beautiful a naked Benedict would look, how perfectly you would paint him, just for yourself, your own masterpiece.

You felt your thighs tightened at how big he was, how beautiful, how soft and how warm. Benedict's head was thrown back as your heaving increased, the side of your hand hitting his groin, skin against skin as Benedict rolled his hip, he was majestic and magnificent.

" I will...I am gonna—" whatever he was going to say was drowned in a sharp cry as waves of white silvery cum flashed in a joltic eruption, it got on your face, your hands, your chest, your whole body.

Benedict was chanting your name as he came, his cheeks flushed, lids blown.

He looked wide, he couldn't hide how much he liked the sight of you like this, dripping in his cum as he tucked a strand of your hair back.

" Baby, just like that." He smiled, kissing you hard and soft, all glitter and confetti.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

All of you

part 2 to Sun-kissed & Sinful

pairing: joel miller x f! neighbor

Warning:NSFW, 18+

✨All that for a belly ring? Oh, honey.. he begged.✨

part 1

You didn’t think much of it at first.

It was just a neighbor’s casual summer barbecue a few cold beers, folding chairs scattered on patchy grass, music playing from an old speaker on the porch. You’d come in a little sundress, soft yellow, something flowy that tied over one shoulder. Joel had offered to pick you up, but you told him you’d walk over it was only a few doors down. Besides, you figured he’d want a little time to catch up with his old contractor buddy.

But Joel didn’t like that you showed up without him.

And he really didn’t like the way the guy by the cooler was looking at you.

The moment Joel stepped onto the backyard lawn, his eyes found you instantly standing by the grill with a drink in your hand, laughing, head tilted back as you chatted with some guy in a ballcap who clearly thought he had a chance.

Joel’s jaw clenched.

He watched from across the yard, beer forgotten in his hand, as the guy leaned in closer too close. His hand brushed your arm, and Joel could feel the heat rise in his chest, slow and sharp like a match being struck.

You didn’t even notice him walking up behind you until a strong arm slid around your waist and pulled you back against a solid chest.

“There she is,” Joel murmured against your temple, eyes locked on the guy who had clearly overstayed his welcome. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.”

You smiled, leaning into him instinctively. “Hey, cowboy.”

Joel didn’t take his eyes off the guy. “Don’t think we’ve met.”

“Tom,” the man said, offering a half-hearted handshake that Joel pointedly ignored.

Joel didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah. That’s about enough of that.”

Tom blinked, awkwardly chuckled, and made himself scarce.

You turned to face Joel, brow raised, amused. “Jealous much?”

Joel’s hand stayed on your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles at the edge of your dress. “Not jealous. Just don’t like when men who ain’t me look at you like that.”

You smirked. “How were they lookin’ at me?”

“Like they didn’t know who you belonged to,” he said, voice low and gravelly, bending down so only you could hear. “Guess I’m gonna have to remind you.”

Your breath caught. “Here?”

He didn’t answer. Just took your hand, laced his fingers with yours, and guided you around the side of the house behind the garage where the music faded and no one could see.

He backed you up against the wall, crowding into your space, eyes dark and stormy. “You got any idea what that dress does to me?”

“Maybe,” you whispered, eyes full of heat.

He kissed you then hard, possessive, his tongue pushing past your lips like he couldn’t get close enough. His hands cupped your face, then slid down your sides to your hips, gripping them tight.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your mouth.

“Say it again,” you whispered.

He kissed your jaw, your neck, biting softly, leaving a mark that dipped just beneath your collarbone.

“You’re. Fuckin’. Mine.”

You were breathless, skin flushed, your hands gripping his shirt.

Then he pulled back just enough to look at you all proud and wild-eyed, voice rough.

“Now come home with me,” he said, “and wear that dress while I take it off slow.”

The car ride back to Joel’s place was quiet.

Not because there was nothing to say.

But because your thigh was pressed against his, his jaw was clenched, and you could feel the restraint coiled tight in him the same restraint he’d nearly lost behind the neighbor’s garage.

He unlocked the front door, shoved it open, and the second it clicked shut behind you, he turned, lifted you into his arms, and carried you to his bedroom.

Not a word. Not yet.

He laid you down on the edge of his bed and stood in front of you, hands braced on either side of your hips. His eyes swept over you in that sundress the same one that had every other man at the barbecue biting their tongue.

“Did you wear that for me?” he asked, voice thick.

You smiled. “I always wear everything for you.”

Joel let out a low sound somewhere between a growl and a groan before tugging the tie at your shoulder loose, slow, until the fabric slinked down your arm like a caress.

“Don’t rush me, baby,” he murmured. “Been dreamin’ about this moment since I saw you in that thing.”

You didn’t dare move. Not yet. Not with the way his fingers dragged down your arm, not with how he bent to kiss your collarbone, your chest, kneeling down in front of you like a prayer.

His beard scratched the sensitive skin at your inner thigh as he looked up at you.

“You want me to take my time?” he asked.

You nodded, breathless. “Please.”

He hummed, pleased.

Joel reached up and tugged the dress down your body inch by inch over your breasts, your ribs, your hips until it pooled at your feet. He groaned when he saw you hadn’t worn anything underneath.

“No panties?” he rasped. “Jesus Christ, darlin’. Tryin’ to kill me?”

You just smiled, legs spreading a little more as you leaned back on your elbows.

His hand came to your ankle, then your calf, then slid up your thigh until his fingers brushed where you were already wet for him. He watched you the whole time eyes locked on yours like he needed to see every twitch, every gasp.

And when he finally bent his head down and tasted you, he did it slow.

With long, dragging strokes of his tongue that had your hips bucking, your fingers tangled in his hair, your moans spilling into the warm, dim bedroom like a melody just for him.

Joel didn’t stop until you were crying his name shaking, undone, thighs trembling on either side of his head.

He rose, mouth glistening, eyes dark.

Then he undressed.

Took off his shirt, his belt, his jeans slow and deliberate. Let you see all of him. Strong arms, tanned skin, that rugged chest dusted with hair, and the thick length of him already aching for you.

When he climbed over you and lined himself up, you cupped his face.

“Joel,” you whispered, kissing him soft. “I want all of you.”

“You already got all of me, baby,” he murmured against your lips. “Always have.”

And then he pushed into you.

It was deep. Slow. Unforgiving in the best way. He didn’t let up didn’t rush just moved in long, thick strokes that filled you completely, had your back arching and his name falling from your lips like scripture.

His hand found yours, fingers laced as he thrust harder, the bed creaking beneath you.

“Mine,” he growled into your neck. “My girl.”

“Yours,” you gasped, crying out when he hit that perfect spot. “Joel..I’m yours.”

You came with a choked moan, and he followed just after, spilling deep inside you with a curse, holding you tight against him as he came undone.

After, he stayed on top of you, buried inside, both of you sticky and panting and tangled in the sheets.

Joel kissed your forehead.

Then your nose.

Then your lips.

And with a smirk, he whispered, “Next time you wear that dress, you’re wearin’ it just for me. No damn neighbors invited.”

The sun was barely up.

Soft, golden light filtered through Joel’s bedroom curtains, warming your bare skin where it peeked from beneath the sheets. The night had left its marks your body deliciously sore, neck and hips peppered with his kisses, that pretty yellow sundress still draped half-off a chair like a crime scene.

Joel was still asleep beside you, heavy arm slung over your waist, beard brushing your shoulder as he exhaled slow and deep. His chest rose and fell with a peaceful rhythm, a little rough snore catching every few breaths. He was all warm skin and sleepy strength, his face softer in the morning light, like every scar had faded.

You shifted slightly not enough to wake him and felt his hand tighten around you.

“Mornin’,” he rasped, voice gravel and syrup, still mostly asleep.

You turned to face him. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t care.” He cracked one eye open and smirked. “Ain’t lettin’ you out of this bed anyway.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then another to the corner of his mouth. “You always this clingy after you claim your woman?”

Joel growled, hand sliding down to cup your ass under the sheet. “You are mine, sweetheart. Ain’t lettin’ go.”

You giggled, nuzzling into his chest. He kissed the top of your head, then pulled back to look at you fully his eyes catching the faint glint of your belly piercing as you adjusted the sheet.

He stared at it for a moment. “That thing…”

You blinked. “What?”

Joel shifted suddenly, leaning down to kiss the piercing slow and soft right on your lower stomach.

“Drives me goddamn crazy,” he muttered, lips trailing downward, warm and teasing. “Every time it catches the light, all I think about is how that little ring should be mine.”

You raised a brow, laughing. “It is yours.”

He grunted. “Still. Should take you to a damn jeweler. Get one made just for you.”

You tilted your head. “A custom belly ring?”

“Somethin’ small. Silver. Maybe a ‘J’… or my name on it.”

Your eyes widened. “Possessive much?”

He kissed your inner thigh, and when he looked up at you, his voice was low and smug. “Damn right I’m possessive.”

You swallowed hard.

Before you could even reply, Joel flipped the sheet off of you entirely, revealing every inch of bare skin to his greedy eyes.

“Gonna make you breakfast,” he murmured. “But first…”

His mouth hovered just above your belly ring again.

“…I got somethin’ else I wanna taste.”

After round two with Joel worshiping your belly ring until you were clenching the sheets and breathless he finally, reluctantly, let you out of bed.

But only so he could throw on some old jeans, walk into the kitchen shirtless, and start making you breakfast like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing toward the counter. “And don’t even think about helpin’.”

You hopped up onto the stool, wearing nothing but his old Henley that barely covered your thighs. No bra. No panties. And Joel was very aware.

Every time you leaned forward to take a sip of coffee, his eyes dropped shamelessly then narrowed in appreciation.

“Doin’ that on purpose, huh?”

“Maybe,” you said, smiling sweetly.

He flipped a pancake with his spatula, then walked over and smacked it lightly against your bare thigh.

“Keep bein’ a tease, and I’m gonna forget about these eggs.”

“You’d never,” you challenged.

He raised a brow, tossed the spatula on the counter, and kissed you hard and messy, syrupy-sweet on your lips from the stack already on your plate.

“I would,” he muttered against your mouth. “But I’m tryin’ real hard to be good. Least until we finish breakfast.”

A few hours (and one long, hot shower) later, you found yourself in a small boutique jewelry shop downtown.

Joel didn’t say much on the way there, just kept his hand on your thigh the whole drive his thumb brushing slow circles just below your dress, dangerously close to where he’d already made you fall apart twice that morning.

But once the piercing artist laid out the new belly rings and asked what you wanted, Joel spoke up.

“That one,” he said, nodding toward a tiny silver barbell delicate, with a small charm hanging from it. A J. Simple. Sleek. Subtle enough to hide. Special enough to keep.

The piercer smiled. “Nice choice. Want to watch?”

Joel’s voice dropped. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You laid back on the table, pulling your top up and unhooking your current ring. Joel stood right beside you, arms crossed, eyes locked on your belly like a hawk. He didn’t even flinch as the gloved hands moved in removing the old piece and carefully sliding in the new one.

His jaw clenched.

His fingers flexed.

He looked like he was barely holding it together.

When it was done, the piercer gave you a mirror. “What do you think?”

But before you could answer, Joel reached out, brushing his knuckles along your stomach, right where the little J glinted in the light.

“Looks perfect,” he said quietly. Then leaned down, right there in the shop, and kissed just beside it. “You’re mine.”

The piercer coughed awkwardly and turned to pretend they were checking your paperwork.

You giggled, tugging Joel’s hand. “Take me home?”

“Oh, I am,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist as he led you out. “And I’m gonna spend the rest of the day showin’ you how good that new ring looks bouncin’ while you ride me.”

The sun was setting when you stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from a quick rinse.

Joel was sprawled across the bed still shirtless, still in those same low-slung jeans from earlier, watching a football game with the volume low. He didn’t hear the door open.

But he sensed you.

Because the moment your bare feet padded across the carpet, his head turned. And his mouth went slack.

You weren’t wearing much. Just his favorite lace panties and a tiny cropped tee that rode up just enough to show your belly button… and the brand-new silver ring with the little J charm catching the light like a beacon.

He sat up slowly, jaw tight, eyes locked on your stomach.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

You just smirked and stretched, arms overhead, letting the shirt ride higher putting the ring and your smooth skin on full display.

“You like it, Miller?”

His tongue darted across his bottom lip.

“Come here.”

You didn’t.

Instead, you crawled up the bed slowly one knee between his thighs, the other on the mattress until you were straddling him but not touching.

He was already hard under those jeans.

You traced his collarbone with a fingertip. “You picked it.”

“Didn’t know it’d kill me.”

You leaned in, lips just brushing his, and then sat back hands lifting the hem of your shirt completely.

Joel groaned.

“Touch it,” you said sweetly, guiding his fingers to the ring.

He did rough fingertips brushing the silver, then trailing down your stomach with a reverent sort of awe.

You reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, slow and deliberate, letting his cock spring free thick, hard, already twitching for you.

But you didn’t let him inside.

Not yet.

Instead, you rocked your hips just barely your belly ring glittering with every shallow grind and watched Joel’s eyes flutter shut, his hands clutching your thighs.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “Stop teasin’. I need you.”

You leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“You have me. I’m right here.”

“Not enough,” he rasped, bucking his hips up. “Please.”

You smiled at that.

tough, stoic, rough-around-the-edges Joel begging under you, desperate and undone just from the sight of a piece of jewelry and the slow roll of your hips.

“Say it,” you whispered in his ear, licking the shell. “Tell me what you want.”

He grabbed your hips, voice cracking. “Want you to ride me. Want that ring bouncin’ while you fuck me. Need it, baby. Please.”

You kissed him hard, then lined him up sinking down slow, letting him fill you inch by inch until he was all the way inside.

Joel shuddered.

And when you started to move slow, controlled, rolling your hips until your belly ring glinted in the low light he looked up at you like a man completely wrecked.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smiled, tossing your hair back as you rode him, your hands braced on his chest. “Then I’ll bury you with this ring.”

You collapsed on top of him, chest flushed, heart pounding in sync with his.

Joel’s arms wrapped around you instantly tight, grounding, trembling just a little. His beard was damp where he’d bitten at your neck, his breath still hot and shaky against your shoulder.

Neither of you spoke for a minute.

You just lay there sweaty, tangled, full of each other.

Then you felt it: the lazy trail of his fingers up and down your spine, slow as molasses. A thumb brushing over the curve of your waist. A palm splayed across the small of your back like he was anchoring himself to earth.

You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“You good, cowboy?”

He gave a low huff of laughter, eyes still closed.

“Darlin’,” he rasped, “I’m done for.”

You giggled, nose nudging his. “You begged.”

“I meant it.”

You propped yourself up slightly, watching the way his eyes finally cracked open those deep brown irises all soft and glassy and full of you.

“You looked so pretty,” you teased, dragging your finger down the middle of his chest, right to where his heart beat strong and steady. “Laid out under me, begging for it. You’d do it again, wouldn’t you?”

He reached up and cupped your cheek, thumb stroking slow over your lips. “I’d do anything for you.”

Your smile faltered just slightly because of the way he said it.

Quiet. Honest. No teasing. Just truth.

The kind of truth that knocked the wind out of you.

“I’ve never had anyone like you,” he murmured, still watching you like he couldn’t believe you were real. “I’ve had… people. Nights. But you? You make me feel like I got somethin’ to live for again.”

You felt it too. That heavy, quiet pull in your chest.

Like something had snapped into place between you two right here, sweaty and exhausted and so full of each other’s love you thought you might explode from it.

You leaned in and kissed him slow, sweet, just lips moving lazily like you had all the time in the world.

“Let me take care of you now,” he whispered into your mouth.

You blinked, surprised. “Didn’t I just—?”

He rolled you over, still buried inside, still hard somehow, and gave a wicked grin against your jaw.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he growled. “That was your turn.”

[yourauthorjen]

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞. YOU'RE A MUSIC STUDENT WITH JOAQUIN TORRES

a/n: none of the lyrics are mine. all lyrics are from cups by anna kendrick from pitch perfect.

͙͘͡ ★

the pleasant tapping was sweet at first—reminding you of the soft pattering of rain, then the faint sound of needles clicking from knitting; but after a while, it became annoying. like hair pulling annoying.

you paused, pencil between your teeth as you stared at your third attempt of songwriting. it was infuriating, trying to chase the ideas while running on red bull and coffee, your brain somewhere between shutting down and the never ending plane of words scrambling throughout your head.

the tapping didn’t stop though; and when you finally squinted through the fairy lights and half-covered curtains, you spotted a shadow, dark and hovering, balancing on the narrow fire escape.

“sunshine?” the voice was muffled through the glass, but unmistakably familiar.

you dropped your pencil, scrambling off your chair and shoving the window open with a loud creak. the chilly air of the midst of the night swept in, bone-chilling and icy as you stuck your head out. 

“joaquin?”

he offered a crooked smile. “hey.”

your boyfriend hooked a leg over the window, one hand wrapped around his torso, the other clamped around the window frame like his body depended on it. nearly tripping, he stumbled halfway through before you caught him, arms under his and dragging his heavy weight inside.

but the second he was fully inside and the light hit his face, your stomach dropped.

“oh my god.” you reached for him instinctively, eyes wide. “what the hell happened to you?!”

he flinched as you touched his cheek, the bruise on his jaw dark and spreading like watercolor. there was a split on his lower lip, and his knuckles were red and scabbed, his jacket stained with what looked like dried blood.

“hey, hey,” he said quickly. “i’m okay—I’m fine, i promise. well, mostly, just a little dented.”

“you’re literally bleeding, joaquin!”

“it’s not actively bleeding,” he offered.

you glared at him, grabbing his wrist and guiding him toward the bed. “sit down before you fall down.”

“bossy,” he muttered with a grin, but winced as he lowered himself. you ignored him, instead kneeling in front of him, already rummaging through the drawer under your bed for the first-aid kit. “what did you even do to get so banged up?”

he didn’t answer at first, not until you cupped his chin, gently tilting his face toward you.

“joaquin.”

his jaw tensed under your fingers. “i might’ve taken a little detour.”

you narrowed your eyes. “what detour?”

he licked his lips nervously, closing his eyes. “don’t get mad at me sunshine, but i may have gotten into a teensy disagreement with my roommate.” 

“a disagreement?” you repeated slowly, staring into his amber eyes, “with your roommate?”

he swallowed, “he was talking shit about you and i… i kinda lashed out. said your music was trash, like every other basic girl with a guitar.”

you let out an exasperated sigh. “so you punched him because of that?”

“technically,” he said, sucking in a sharp breath as you finally pressed the disinfectant to the cut near his eyebrow, “he swung first. i just… followed through.”

you stared at him, your exasperation battling the sharp twist in your chest at the fact that he defended you—again. “that is the dumbest thing i have ever heard, joaquin. but honestly, i can’t even be mad because...” you sighed, gentler this time, “... because you’re such a stupid idiot in love that it’s kind of gross.”

his lips tugged into a lopsided grin. “you think i’m in love with you?”

“i think you punched someone because they insulted how i sound, so yeah, i’m gonna go ahead and say fully obsessed.”

“but you’re obsessed with me too, right?” he asked, cracking an eye open and giving you a wounded look. 

you tilted your head to the side, carefully pressing a finger to the bruise on his cheek, tracing the purple and green, blooming across his cheek. in return, he winced with a hiss, and you smiled sweetly, fingers sliding back to his jaw.

“careful,” he murmured, watching you from under his lashes. “i’m fragile right now.”

“yeah, and whose fault is that?” you said, though your voice was soft and teasing. “you crash-land into my room in the middle of the night looking like you lost a fight—”

“i won, technically.”

"you're lucky i love you," you muttered under your breath, with an amused twitch of your lips.

"i do," he grumbled, "it's why my roommate looks like someone shoved his ass into a garbage disposable unit."

"or you could've just used your words, like a big kid," you teased. "really, it's not that big of a deal."

instead of biting back with a smug grin, his gaze hardened, brown eyes sharpening like flint. "but it is to me."

you blinked, stunned.

"i don't care what people say about me. but not about you. 'cause they don't see the way your eyes light up with pride after you finish writing, even if it means staying up till three in the morning." he murmured, "he called you a basic girl with a guitar, but you're anything but basic." his eyes were shining now. "in fact, you're anything but basic. and that guitar? it’s the reason i fell for you in the first place, sunshine."

your chest turned warm, and your heart pounded hard in your chest, as his gaze flicked to your mouth. his jaw was cradled in your fingers again, and thumb brushing carefully over the side of his bruise. joaquin watched you with a soft and hopeful expression, like the one he always had when he wanted to ask you for something.

"so... you gonna kiss me now or are you gonna make me suffer more?"

you shook your head, laughing under your breath as you stood up and reached for your guitar.

“not until you’ve earned it.”

he groaned, flopping back onto your pillows again. “sunshine, i’m bleeding for you.”

“…no,”

he huffed out a breath, “fine will you at least sing for me then?”

you paused, half-expecting him to follow it with another dumb joke—but he didn’t. he was looking at you with those intense brown eyes, dark curls falling loosely over his eyebrows. "you always sing when you think i’m asleep,” he said. “you did it the night before when we fell asleep on your couch. i remember.”

you bit your bottom lip. “that doesn’t count.

"it does," he insisted. "besides, i wanna hear what you've been working on."

you hesitated, fingers brushing lightly over the strings of your guitar. the room had gone quiet except for the low hum of the city outside and joaquin’s breathing, which was slower and steadier, like he was starting to relax. his head was propped against the headboard of the bed, and you were sitting across from him, his eyes soft and floored onto yours.

“it’s not done,” you said softly.

“doesn’t have to be,” he replied, shifting slightly on the bed, wincing only a little. “just wanna hear it from you.”

you glanced at him, still sprawled out like a battered prince, all bruises and blood and an unwavering look of determination, something that always made your heart stutter.

so you sat on the edge of the bed, guitar in your lap, and started to strum at the bronze, voice shy and uncertain.

i got my ticket for the long way 'round, two bottle whiskey for the way and i sure would like some sweet company, and i'm leaving tomorrow, what'd you say?

joaquin’s hand started tapping against his thigh in rhythm. not loud, just a familiar three-beat pattern—tap tap clap—like muscle memory.

he smiled a little to himself, not even looking at his hand, just keeping it soft in time while his eyes stayed locked on you.

when i'm gone, when i'm gone, you're gonna miss me when i'm gone. you're gonna miss me by my hair, you're gonna miss me everywhere, oh, you're gonna miss me when i'm gone.

his head was still tipped back, but his lips were parted, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. you kept going anyways, though, your strumming slowed down a little.

i got my ticket for the long way round, the one with the prettiest of views. it's got mountains, it's got rivers, it's got sights to give you shivers, but it sure would be prettier with you.

you let the rest fade into silence, and by then, joaquin's finger had stilled, the last tap lingering like an echo. he didn’t blink.

“sunshine,” he whispered, voice soft like a prayer.

you didn’t answer, instead you just leaned down and kissed him—careful, gentle, and reverent.

he smiled against your lips.

“see?” he murmured resting his forehead against yours, “music heals.”

͙͘͡ ★

you're gonna miss me by my walk, you're gonna miss me by my talk, oh, you're sure gonna miss me when i'm gone. — cups, by anna kendrick from pitch perfect

[thelargefrye]

THE YULE DRAGON … holiday one - shot ( 17+ )

pairing : poly!dragon!ateez x witch!f!reader

genre : dragon au, fantasy au, holiday au, fluff, angst

word count : 4.3k

warnings : language, mentions of dragon hunters, talks about death, light injury but nothing major, one death threat

suffer tag : @sanjoongie and for anon who asked about any new chapters

note : very excited to write this, so let me know what you think! also here is a link to what y/n's dress at the yule gala looks like!

the winter month draws near and the clan prepares to celebrate the yule dragon festival for the first time in years. knowing this is wooyoung's first one with an actually clan, you want to make sure everything is perfect.

when you woke up in the morning, you noticed how snow had slowly begun to fall and lay on the ground. you also couldn't help but notice how the dragons around you seemed to have been in good moods. smiles on their faces as they walked around and some even greeted you with warm smiles.

when you arrived at the nursery, the hatchlings all immediately greeted you. most of them run up and tackle you to the ground.

"miss y/n! miss y/n! did you see the snow?" one hatchling, jiyu, asked and you couldn't help but laugh as you nodded and pushed some hair out of her face.

"yes, i did. very beautiful isn't it?"

"not as beautiful as you, miss y/n!" another hatchling, minjae, said. the other hatchlings couldn't help but agree with minjae and you couldn't help but laugh at them all.

"prince mingi said that we will be able to celebrate the yule dragon festival this year!"

"the yule dragon festival?" you remember wooyoung telling you about the holiday years ago when you first met. you can't help but feel excited knowing he's going to enjoy a real one this year.

"yeah! it's been years since the clan last held one," seeun says and that quickly catches your attention. years? you thought the holiday was a yearly thing?

"alright, little ones, let's go ahead and get ready for the day," mingi comes in and ushers the hatchlings away from you in order to gather them in a line so they could eat.

you push your curiosity down for later as you go over to help mingi with the hatchlings. you watch the hatchlings with a warm fondness as they eat and talk to each other, and the rest of the day goes by in flash with you and mingi taking care of the young dragons.

"miss y/n, have you ever experienced a yule dragon festival before?" one of the hatchlings asked as they were laying down for a nap. the question of one hatchling seemed to have caught the attention of a few others around you two.

"not a proper one with a true clan, but me and wooyoung used to do a small celebration before we came to the clan," you said as you remembered your time with wooyoung back in your cottage. you can feel your cheeks heat up as you remember the first time you both celebrated the yule dragon together.

"do witches have any special holidays?" another hatchling, siyu, asked.

"we do but they're not like the yule dragon one. we focus more on what we are thankful for and mourning those that have left us," you explain.

"that sounds sad."

"sometimes it is sad, but then you have to remember that even those that left this world are still with us in spirit. watching over and guiding us on the right path of destiny," you say.

"but miss y/n, you don't have to be sad anymore because you have all of us!" one hatchling said with the others immediately agreeing and you couldn't help but smile at all of them.

"okay, okay, everyone," mingi says as he comes in and immediately calming all the hatchlings down. "its time to rest, not get excited."

"but prince mingi," minjae says looking towards the tall prince, "don't you agree that miss y/n doesn't have to be sad anymore, since she has all of us now?"

"of course," mingi says as he bends down to pet minjae's head, "but miss y/n still has a right to miss those that she lost. we all do. now come on, everyone, time to rest!"

you can't help but smile at how some of the hatchlings groan at mingi's words, but nonetheless all lay down in their little nooks. you and mingi go through and make sure each hatchling is comfortable before you leave the nesting room.

you watch as mingi closes the door behind him before he's offering his arm to you. you take his arm with a smile as he escorts the two of you back to the main palace wing.

"i meant what i said though," mingi begins and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "that you have a right to be sad about those you lost, but also know that hatchlings are right as well and that you have all of us now. the hatchlings, me, wooyoung, yeosang, the others, and even the clan. you have all of us."

"thank you, prince mingi," you say, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek and he smiles at you before quickly pressing his own kiss to your lips. "also," you speak up after you two continue to walk, "what did the little ones mean when they said its been years since you all had a yule dragon festival?"

"well... we haven't had one since hongjoong's parents and brother were killed. hongjoong didn't want to have a large one with the whole clan, so this is the first time in five years that we have celebrated it as such," mingi explains and you nod your head in understanding.

"what caused him to suddenly change his mind?"

"well you and wooyoung of course," you wanted to laugh at mingi's answer. more like just wooyoung, you think. you decide to remain silent as mingi guides you through the palace.

"this will be wooyoung's first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you note as you notice many dragons setting up and decorating the palace corridors with festive decorations. you can't help but feel excited knowing that wooyoung will be able to experience the real thing after so many years of not having it with an actual clan.

your mind goes back to when you and wooyoung would celebrate together back at the cottage. both of you dressing up, decorating the cottage, and spending the entire night together. wooyoung taught you the dances that he learned. even when you weren't celebrating the dragon holiday, you would find wooyoung and yourself dancing and just enjoying each other's company.

"hey, mingi?" you caught the dragon's attention and he turns towards you as you continue to speak, "is there... a way i can help set up the festival?"

"oh! umm, i think so. seonghwa is usually in charge of things like this, but i volunteered to help him this time, so..."

"do you need help?" you ask, feeling an excitement bubble up in your stomach.

"of course you can help," mingi says, a wide smile on his face and you mirror his smile, beaming up at him. the two of you share a quick hug, mingi lets out a small laugh at your excitement, almost not expecting it.

"thank you," you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you are separating yourself from him. you notice the blush that covers his cheeks and ears and you have to stop yourself from pouncing on the tall dragon from how cute he is.

as the next week goes by, you spend your time helping the dragons in the clan to decorate for the yule dragon holiday. at first some of the dragons were reluctant at accepting your help, but slowly and eventually they allowed for you to help with the decorations. sure they didn't trust you with the important stuff, but that was okay.

you only wanted to make sure everything was perfect for wooyoung, he needed to have the best yule dragon after everything he has done for you. you also wanted to make sure the clan had a good one as well, but wooyoung took priority in your heart.

"wow, look at these decorations, darling," yeosang's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look down from your spot on the wooden ladder to see your lover looking up at you with a smile. you finish hanging the silver garland before climbing down the ladder and yeosang is quick to press a loving kiss to your lips.

"thank you, me and the hatchlings made them," you say, feeling rather proud from how all the decorations have been turning out. many of the other clan dragons complimenting you on your hard work.

"you've been working so hard, a lot of the clan members are grateful for your help," he says as the two of you begin walking out of the grand hall, where the yule gala will be held tomorrow night. other dragons are busy around you all finishing up last minute details, with most of them stopping to bow at yeosang before scurrying away to finish their task.

"i have something for you, princess," he says once the two of you are out of the grand hall and you give him a confused look which only makes him smile. "it’s custom for everyone to wear special outfits, rather a little too fancy if you ask me, but people really enjoy it," he begins as the two of you continue to walk down the hall.

"and i bet you completely forgot to make sure you are prepared for the gala," yeosang teases and you felt yourself get flustered at his words. "but don't worry because you wonderful mate has taken care of you," he says as you both stop in front of your chamber doors. "i hired a seamstress to make you a dress and thankfully she managed to finish it in time."

"wait, yeosang– you... you didn't, you shouldn't have."

"but i did, and i wanted to. my darling, you have done so much, let me give you this," he says, cupping your cheeks before leaning over and kissing you. you feel yourself melt into the kiss as you press yourself closer to your lover, arms wrapping around his waist. the two of you only separate when you're out of breath and yeosang presses one last kiss to your lips before he's pulling away and opening the door to your bedroom.

when you stepped inside, you were completely shocked at the dress that rested on the mannequin in the center of your room. you had honestly never seen a dress more beautiful in your life and you felt yourself tear up because of it. you felt like you didn't deserve a dress as gorgeous as this.

"it's beautiful, yeosang."

"you look absolutely beautiful, my fire," seonghwa says when he sees you walk into the grand hall.

the gala had been going on for several minutes, hongjoong lighting the ceremonial flame that burned in the center of the clan. you were amazed at the flame and its rather unique color, and mingi explained that this flame could only be lit by the leader of a clan and that it in order to celebrate the first dragon.

you honestly couldn't look away from the flame, almost like it was meant to entrance you.

"thank you, prince seonghwa," you said, bowing slightly to the eldest dragon prince. seonghwa could only smile as he took your hand into his before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

"make sure you enjoy yourself," he says, not yet letting go of your hand. "i want a dance before the night is over."

"of course, your highness," you say, a small smirk taking over your lips before seonghwa is nodding and making his leave. he does unfortunately have other people to see and talk to.

your eyes scan around the grand hall, looking for the head of familiar red hair and you feel your heart skip a beat when you finally find him. wooyoung looked absolutely handsome in his outfit and you were glad to see that he matched the other princes. it made your heart flutter knowing that wooyoung was being accepted by the clan.

you made your way over to your first lover, your feet picking up speed when you two made eye contact. you felt like it had been forever since you last seen wooyoung – however it had only been a few hours. you had been so caught up in making sure the festival and gala were perfect for him that you had completely forgot to pay the red-headed dragon attention.

so you immediately wrapped wooyoung in a tight hug once you were close enough. wooyoung was quick to return the hug, holding you close to him as he inhaled your scent before pressing a kiss to your neck.

"my y/n, you look so beautiful," he says as he twirls you around, the white-silver fabric that was decorated with beautiful shimmering stars and moons. wooyoung had seen the dress, yeosang having shown him before you and he knew you would look beautiful in it. but of course, seeing you actually in it he was blown away by your appearance.

"are you having a good time, woo?" you ask, heart beating rapidly waiting for his answer.

"of course i am," he says with a smile, "mingi mentioned how you helped out with this whole thing. any reason why?"

"you, of course," you say, both your hands linking with his. "this is your first yule dragon with an actual clan in a long time. i wanted to make sure it was perfect."

"oh love," he says, gently pulling the two of you off to the side, "you didn't need to do that. it would have perfect no matter what because i'm celebrating it with you. back at the cottage... i saw the two of us as our own little clan. and the yeosang joined," wooyoung says and you can't help but laugh at his last comment. despite mating and bonding with yeosang, wooyoung still couldn't get over the other dragon coming in basically setting up camp in your little cottage.

"you love yeosang, don't try to fool yourself," you tease and wooyoung grumbles a little bit before rolling his eyes.

"whatever."

you were about to say something when the sound of a familiar tune filled the grand hall. you turned to see a lot of the people gathering at the center and began dancing. you noticed mingi pulling yunho behind him to the dance floor with many of the other dragons cheering for the two tall princes. following them, you see yeosang and san dancing and you were a little surprised at seeing the blonde guard dancing and smiling as him and yeosang looked at one another.

"wow, who knew san could smile," wooyoung says and you crack a smile before turning to your lover.

"shall we join them as well?" you ask and wooyoung nods before he's pulling you towards the dance floor and you two quickly fall into a rhythm of the dance. the music easily guided you as you and wooyoung danced, you felt your whole attention center in on your lover and it felt like it was just the two of you.

you got flashbacks to when you and wooyoung would dance in your cottage. how back then it really was just the two of you and no one else, but now you were surrounded by people that even if they all didn't welcome you, they welcomed wooyoung. and even if you didn't feel welcomed at first, you have mingi, yeosang, the hatchlings.

seeing wooyoung smile and laugh and enjoy himself made you feel like you were on cloud nine. even if he wouldn't say it out loud, you knew wooyoung enjoyed being a part of the clan.

you felt the music guide you and your thoughts, as the music began to slow down you found yourself and wooyoung also slowing down. wooyoung pulling you close to him, his arm coming to wrap around your waist to hold you close to him.

"i have you had your ceremony?" wooyoung suddenly asks, snapping you out of your happy daze. you knew immediately what he was talking about.

"not yet, i was waiting till after the gala was over," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat at knowing what you would have to do later.

just like dragons, witches also had their own traditions and such. not as public as the yule dragon, but more intimate to each witch. celebrating those that you left you in this world. wooyoung has been with you during this ceremony like you have been with him for his. you don't know how many nights you have fallen asleep, crying in wooyoung's arms because of all the witches that have died.

"do you want me there with you?" he asks, and it takes you a moment to think about it.

"no, i'll do it alone this time."

"are you sure?" you nod your head, you didn't want to ruin wooyoung's good time here with your own traditions and ceremonies.

when the music changed once again, you pressed a kiss to wooyoung before stepping away, telling him you needed some fresh air.

"let me come with you," he says as he starts to trail after you, but you stop him.

"it’s okay," you say, hand out to stop him, "i'll be right back."

you don't give wooyoung a chance to say anything as you're turning and making your way to one of the many garden doors that lead out into the courtyard.

once the cold air hit your skin, you let out a sigh as you made your way over to one of the stone benches that overlooked most of the courtyard and even down further into the clan. the yule flame burned brightly a short distance away and you couldn't help but walk over to it. the flame reminded you of the flame that you would light for the umbra ceremony.

the flame burned brightly and you almost felt like a moth from how you were being drawn to it.

which is how you found yourself in front of it. the noises from the grand hall behind you is like static as you look at the flame, letting it consume you. you got flashbacks to when you would set up a room of candles for the witches that you lost, the flame from those candles burning brightly into your mind.

"why are you out here," the cold voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at hongjoong with wide eyes. the prince looks at you with a stern expression, his cold eyes burning into your body.

"i was just... just getting some air," you tell him, refusing to fully make eye contact with him.

hongjoong lets out a 'tsk' sound before he's coming to stand next to you, looking up at the flame. you're surprised by how close hongjoong, this is probably the closest he has ever gotten to you without trying to kill you.

"mingi told me how you helped decorate for the festival," he said out of nowhere after the two of you stood in silence. "i guess witches can be good for something," he adds and you feel yourself deflate at his harsh words.

"i did it for wooyoung," you said wanting to make it clear that you were only doing it for your first love and no one else. "this is his first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you add.

"and i'm sure witches are the reason why he had gone for so long without experiencing one with a clan," he says back.

"perhaps," you say as you clench your fist together tightly, "but wooyoung is here now with a clan," you turn your head to look at hongjoong, taking in his form once more. his lavish outfit and vibrant blue hair standing out against the dark night. he was the epitome of what a leader of a dragon clan should be in the fact that he always had that air of authority around him. everyone respected him and if they didn't respect him then they feared him.

you, unfortunately, feared him more than you respected him. the dragon oracles say that you two are mates like you are with the rest of the princes, but you knew hongjoong refused to acknowledge you as his mate. you were a witch, the thing that killed his parents and brother and forced him to take the role of leader too soon. you wondered if you and hongjoong would ever get along.

you notice how the flame reflects against hongjoong's skin and then something hits you.

"please excuse me, prince hongjoong," you say suddenly before you are rushing past him. hongjoong doesn't say anything and you don't know if he watches you leave as you are too caught up in rushing back into the palace.

you run to your room, feeling out of breath as you enter your chambers you share with wooyoung before going over to the large trunk that rested at the foot of the bed. you quickly dig through the trunk and pull out a set of candles. all three a beautiful rose color and it reminds you greatly of your mother.

"what are these for mother?" you asked, looking up at your mother as she handed you the three candles. they were different from the ones you were use to lightly for the umbra ceremony and you wondered why she was giving them to you.

"these are special candles, y/n, i made them myself so you can use them when you need them the most," she explains, her voice seeming ever cryptic.

"when i need them the most?" you echo and she nods, a tight-lipped smile painting her features.

"they are for the one who will need to say goodbye the most."

you gripped the candles tightly as you raced back to the courtyard and was surprised to still see hongjoong standing there. somewhere deep inside wants you to believe he waited for you, but you know that's impossible.

"prince hongjoong," you say as you approach him. "i want to thank you for letting wooyoung into your home. i know that... you despise me and my people, you lost your parents and brother after all. and i know you probably don't care but i want to share something with you."

hongjoong turns to look at you, his face void of emotion as he watches you set the three candles down between the two of you. you crouch down, kneeling front of the candles as hongjoong stands towering above you.

"the umbra witches have their own ceremony, we light candles in order to remember those that have left us and this world. we do this as a way to remind us that while they have left this world physically, they are still here with us spiritually," you pause in order to take a deep breath, licking your lips before continuing.

"my mother made me these candles when she was still alive. she told me that they were for someone who needed to say goodbye, and... i think she made them for you."

"what the hell are you talking about?" hongjoong asks, voice full of surprise and anger. "i don't need any of you stupid umbra witch shit," he adds and you notice his fist clenches with his rage.

"please," you beg, voice straining as you plead with the prince, "take the candles, it will bring you peace, prince hongjoong."

you feel a sudden shock as you are grabbed by the collar of your dress. you're pulled up from your kneeling position, face dangerously close to an enraged hongjoong as he bares his teeth at you. in the moment you are reminded that you are at the mercy of a clan full of dragons whether you liked it or not.

"i will never," he jaw clenched tightly as he speaks, "ever, forgive your damned people for what they did to my family. my people. so don't think so damned candles will change that. you will never be my mate and just know that if it wasn't for yeosang and mingi that i would have burned you at a stake a long fucking time ago."

hongjoong waste no time in throwing you to the ground, your hands skidding across the stone pathway harshly and you flinch at the sudden burn of skin. you turn to see hongjoong's eye burning, like he will kill you if you say anything else to him.

you then watch him destroy two of the candles, his foot coming down harshly on them and you feel like a part of you is being ripped apart as you watch him. he's about to do the same to the last one, but you move and grab the last candle. the last one your mother made.

then without thinking you stand up and run away from the prince. you clearly made a mistake in thinking that you could get hongjoong to open up just a little bit. you felt tears begin to form in your eyes as you ran, clutching the candle close to your chest as you collapsed in the one of the many decorated halls.

you looked down at the candle once more, the image of your mother's smile flashing inside your mind as you caressed it. you knew this candle was for hongjoong. he was the one who needed to say goodbye to those he lost, but it was obvious that now wasn't the time.

"y/n!" the sudden call of your name makes you snap your head up to see yeosang rushing towards you. face full of concern and he drops down to the floor next to you. "y/n, what's wrong, why are you crying?" he brushes the tears away and you open your mouth to say something before a sob escapes instead.

you throw yourself into his arms and he arms them around you protectively. you hold your mother's candle close to you as you allow yourself to cry in yeosang's arms. yeosang doesn't say anything, only letting you cry as a comforting hand runs over your hair.

"it's okay, y/n, i'm here," he says softly, holding you closer to him. "whatever made you sad, don't think about it anymore, okay? cause i'm here to protect you."

and so the night comes to an end as you spend the rest of it in yeosang's arms, allowing him to hold you closely as you mourn for the loss of your mother and the hate hongjoong bares for you. 

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[alittlegiraffe]

Title: "Behind the Spotlight"

You had been Marshall’s assistant for years now, but that title hardly did justice to what you truly meant to him. You weren’t just his right hand, his manager, his organizer. You were his partner, his best friend, and—after all these years—his wife. You knew him better than anyone, understood his moods, his temper, and his quiet moments when he needed someone to remind him he was human.

Being married to Marshall meant embracing the whirlwind that came with his fame. But you did it with a quiet grace, always staying in the background, taking care of things while he did what he did best. He was a superstar, and you were his constant. You helped keep the madness at bay, making sure his world ran smoothly while also shielding him from the world’s chaos when he needed to escape.

You weren’t just Marshall’s wife; you were his anchor, even if you hated being the center of attention. You preferred the quiet moments with him, the ones where the world didn’t matter, and it was just the two of you. Still, over time, the fans had come to love you, thanks to your behind-the-scenes glimpses into his world—your social media was a place where his fans could see him as more than just a superstar. They saw him as a man, a husband, a father. And through it all, they came to adore you too, even if you never asked for that kind of spotlight.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight was your birthday.

Marshall had always known how to make you blush, even after all these years. He’d asked you repeatedly what you wanted, but you always shrugged it off, preferring a quiet night over any big celebrations. You wanted nothing more than a normal evening, just the two of you, away from the flashing lights.

But Marshall had something else planned.

You were backstage, doing your usual rounds, checking over the schedules, making sure everything was running smoothly. You had no idea that the moment you’d walk out to that stage, everything was going to change.

“Hey, babe, you ready?” Marshall’s voice came from behind you, smooth and full of mischief.

You looked up and smiled. “Yeah, ready for another show. Let’s do this.”

But he didn’t move. Instead, his eyes narrowed playfully. “You sure? Because tonight’s special.”

You paused, noticing the smirk on his face. “What do you mean by ‘special’?” you asked, the tiniest hint of suspicion in your voice.

Before you could react, you felt a hand on your shoulder—Denaun. You turned to see him grinning widely, his hands gently but firmly guiding you toward the stage. “C’mon, let’s go. You’re up.”

“What?!” You tried to pull back, feeling a wave of panic rush over you. “Marshall—no, I don’t want to—”

But Marshall was already stepping up behind you, placing a hand on your back. “It’s too late now. You’re going out there, and you’re gonna love it. Trust me.”

The next thing you knew, Denaun was leading you toward the stage, and you were being ushered into the spotlight. The crowd roared as you walked into view, their voices rising in excitement as they recognized you—Marshall’s wife, the woman who kept his world in balance.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Marshall’s voice boomed over the microphone. “I want y’all to give a special birthday shoutout to the one and only, my girl, my wife—[Y/N]. Let’s sing her happy birthday.”

You froze in place, mortified. No, no, no, no… You felt your face turn bright red as you stared out at the sea of faces, your heart pounding in your chest. You had never been one to seek attention, especially not like this. But the crowd wasn’t letting up. They were already chanting your name, urging you to smile, to embrace the moment.

Marshall stepped beside you, his arm around your waist as he leaned in close. “I’ve got this,” he whispered with a wink.

Then, the crowd began to sing. Thousands of voices, all singing Happy Birthday to you. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you felt the blush spread across your cheeks. Marshall was right next to you, his arm firmly around you, smiling as the crowd’s energy surrounded you.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Marshall said softly into your ear, his words just for you, cutting through the noise of the stadium. His hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You deserve all of this, and more.”

Your heart fluttered. Even though you felt completely overwhelmed by the attention, the warmth of his words grounded you. Marshall always had a way of making you feel like you were the only one in the room, even when the world was watching. His love for you, his devotion, was so clear in that moment, and it made everything worth it.

As the song ended, the crowd erupted into applause, and Marshall gave you a playful nudge. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously, still a little embarrassed but also touched by the gesture. “You know I hate being the center of attention.”

“I know,” Marshall said with a grin, “but sometimes you need to be. You deserve it.”

You stood there for a moment, soaking in the love and energy from the crowd, the spotlight shining down on both of you. It felt surreal, but then Marshall pulled you closer, whispering once more, “You’re not just my assistant. You’re my everything. And I think it’s time the world knew that, too.”

Later, backstage, after the adrenaline of the show had faded, Marshall pulled you into a quiet corner. He kissed the top of your head, his hand gently caressing your back. “Happy birthday, love. I know it was a little much, but I wanted to do something special for you.”

You looked up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re crazy, but… I love you for it.”

Marshall chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

And in that moment, even though the world had just witnessed the most unexpected birthday surprise of your life, you knew it didn’t matter. As long as you were with him, as long as you were his wife, everything felt exactly how it was meant to be.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I'm so happy you like my "oblivious König with severe mommy issues" prompt :3 I'm sorry if I made a few mistakes here and there cause English is my swcond language :(

I'm also thinking about König being absloutely snappy and bratty to reader as a defense mechanism, because he's not a baby! He can make his own lunch (frozen pizza), thank you very much, you are not his Mutter!

And reader is just standing there, smiling because she finds him so endearing when he's angry, not taking him seriously at all. She coos at him in her soft voice, saying she's so sorry, she just worries about her baby so much, he's not been feeding himself very well and look- look at your tummy, baby, you used to be bigger and healthier than that, how can I not be worried for my sweetheart? Of course she's stroking his tummy and whispering in his ear while she says that, and he has to stand there frozen or else he will let out the most pathetic whimper known to man.

He will then have to sit there and eat the most delicious meal ever while he's grumbling, frowning while reader offers him cut up slices of peach, his cock leaving a wet patch against his pants.

It gets even more pathetic in the bedroom because reader is just so full of instructions and praise for him. She's not bossy, she guides him with gentle instructions and calls him the worst names when he obeys, like her Perfect Baby and Big Boy and he just gets so riled up (because he's a military man, of course! he likes orders and that's all) he gets frustrated at his own horniness and decides to drill into her harder, and all she can do is call his cock big and he just cums and cums, groaning and whimpering into her neck :((( one day he will she her he is NOT a baby!

YES I love this for him this is exactly what he deserves!!!!

He thought he’d get a helpless pathetic girl to fuck on weekends but now he’s the pathetic one here, gritting his teeth to prevent himself from getting hard when she rubs his scalp and praises him for every single little thing he does. Every time he comes to see her there’s a big warm meal waiting for him, fat wet kisses and a hushed voice pressed next to his ear, asking him whether he had a rough week, poor thing. Poor baby must be so tired, working himself to the bone like that… His cock is pulling and leaking in his pants from her voice alone now, which is just great, just what he needed.

She says he doesn’t need to worry, says she’s here to ease his stress, and he already knows what it means; she’s going to give him infernally good head that will dissolve him into atoms and make him moan so pathetically he’ll never survive the shame that follows. Which means he must prevent it from happening, any way he can, and so he fleshes out a plan to rearrange her guts later from behind so he doesn’t need to look into those loving, nurturing eyes, always praising him for doing so so good.

The whole female population is looking at him through those eyes, cheering him on with love and gentle care, and he wants that shit so much he’s about to punch a hole through a wall and then slump on the floor to have a big fat ugly cry but he can’t do that, no. He has to stay strong and conquer… whatever this is.

And then the plan backfires horribly when she kickstarts a handjob before he’s even finished his meal. After only a minute or two he finds himself staring up at her, eyes wide and helpless and his cock jerking and throbbing and twitching in her hand as she continues to give him slow, long strokes that are sending him to braindead bliss already.

She babbles in his ear and tells him he can cum whenever he wants, he’s deserved it… And before he knows it there are long, thick strings of cum shooting out, a painful, desperate whine of a moan punching through the air. He never knew he could sound so needy. And pathetic... And needy.

His head drops to see the mess he just made, but she’s already cleaning it up, dabbing his lap with a clean, wet towel, looking up at him with a bright, loving smile.

Scheisse…

[bloodstainedsaint]

of sweet teeth and indulgence (dick winters x reader)

summary: just home from the war, you and dick go on an ice cream date :)

word count: 1200+

warnings: domestic & post-war dick, who's also still shy despite an established relationship); fluff, fluff, and more fluff (+ mentions of war i guess but that's like in every fic); and mentions of nix bc he should be a warning in all winters fics lol

notes: inspired by this and this, happy christmas to anyone who celebrates 🎄 this is my present to you !!

“(Y/N), are you ready yet?” Dick called from downstairs. You were taking some time to doll yourself up, putting your hair in a trendy style, wearing makeup and accessories, donning a nice dress and heels — things that you haven't done for three years on account of your service in the war. While you wanted to dress up for Dick, this was also for you. You took a final look in the mirror and found someone you hadn't seen in years looking back.

“Coming, Dick!” you responded, almost losing your footing coming down the stairs due to your excitement (and the unfamiliarity of heels compared to the sturdy boots you'd become accustomed to).

Dick watched with wonder in his eyes and a smile upturning his lips; he thought you looked like an angel coming down from heaven.

Mistaking his expression as teasing at your expense, you lightly smacked his chest with your purse, a grin of your own gracing your face. “You could've helped me with my hair, you know.”

“No, you…” he started, his face turning the color of his hair as he cast his gaze off to the side, “...just look stunning.”

Heat rising to your cheeks, you decided it was your turn to soak in the other's appearance. It was much different than the fatigues and officer uniforms that you’d been admiring him in ever since you met him at Camp Toccoa, but you'd be lying if you said seeing him in a suit and tie didn't similarly drive you crazy.

You tenderly took his face in your hands and guided his eyes back to you, whispering, “You look handsome as well, Dick.” You brought him closer to give him a short, sweet kiss that made his heart stop beating in his chest.

He pulled away and gave you a quick peck on your forehead before offering you his arm. You gladly accepted it, and the two of you walked together to his car. His hand gently rested on your thigh as he drove, the radio playing swing music.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you took your eyes away from the window where you’d been watching trees pass by, their leaves falling to the ground in vibrant displays of red, orange, and yellow.

“Ice cream,” he said simply, a playful smile on his face and a quick glance to you.

You rolled your eyes with an incredulous look. “Yes, I know we’re getting ice cream. I was asking where.”

“Well, Nix recommended this one place. We’re going to see if Raritan’s ice cream is up to snuff.”

It really astounded you how much of a sweet tooth the man next to you had; even in autumn when the weather was chillier he couldn't turn ice cream down. You bet he could go for ice cream during a winter as harsh as Bastogne’s was, where his nose and ears had flushed cherry red and his face had become pale.

You smirked. “Of course. Because why would Nix ever lie to you?”

“Because he knows not to mess with me about ice cream.”

-

Dick helped you out of the car when you arrived and took your hand as the two of you walked inside. The interior popped out at you: checkered floor and a counter with a row of colorful stools across from the ice cream holders and soda fountains. Dick had said that the ice cream parlors (if one could call them that) were much more modest in the camps and forts he’d trained in prior to Georgia; in Europe, ice cream was hard to find at all — which was why his face lit up with joy at the selection of frozen treats.

Watching your lover, a usually private man, positively beam and hold your hand tighter in his as he led the two of you to the counter brought a smile to your face. He ordered one of his favorites: not plain vanilla, as one might think of someone like him, but cookies and cream, while you decided to go for a pumpkin pie flavor to match the autumn mood. Dick, being Dick, paid for both of them and took you outside to walk along a path shaded by grand trees on either side.

As you walked by his side, hand in hand, your conversations went wherever your mind took you. There was much to talk about now that the war was over and not occupying all of your time.

“How’s Lewis?” you said, having gotten to the ice cream cone.

“Doing better,” Dick said with a sigh, “though sometimes he still comes drunk or hungover to work. One time he showed up and asked if we were married yet.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Are you sure he wasn't sober? That seems like something he’d say sober.”

“Drunk as a skunk. But the promise I made then hasn't changed; we’re going to find a small, quiet corner of the world together and get married there.”

Imagining a ring adorning both his and your ring fingers someday, you squeezed his hand. “You’re a man of your word, Dick; I don't doubt you for a second.” You blissfully sighed and gazed at the sky, reminiscing about all of the stolen kisses and fleeting moments the two of you shared during the war. “We did so much sneaking around back then, but the whole of E Company knew anyway. D’ya think it was me helping with you shave during the Bulge that gave it away?”

He chuckled, a sound that only you and a few others had the pleasure of hearing often. “Nix will always remind us that he knew first and that he was the one who got us together. The sneaking around was just for us to look good around Sobel and everyone outside of Easy.”

“Couldn't have him knowing that his XO was running around with a subordinate,” you said, bumping his shoulder. “If only he could see us now, going on an ice cream date and planning to get married. Might shock him more than your request to be court-martialed.”

Finished with his ice cream, he sighed and said, “I've missed this.”

You turned to him with a simper. “What, ice cream?”

He smiled as he shook his head. “No, walking with you like we did whenever we got the chance to get away.”

“We have all the time in the world now for that and anything you want to do.” You slowed your walk to a stop and fully faced him. “This is our reward.”

Your eyes caught something on his lip, so you leaned in to kiss him, which he gladly indulged you in. Barely pulling away, your lips ghosting his, you said, “You had some ice cream on your lip, Major.”

“You know, ice cream’s not the only thing I’ve missed.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and kissed you unabashedly, realizing and taking advantage of the fact that finally no one was watching. Giggling into the kiss, you tasted not only the sugar of the ice cream but also the bittersweetness from years of yearning for one another. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer, deepening the kiss, and all of the time lost during the war was made up in that one moment.

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @sweetxvanixlla

[tobythewise]

For Handers today! “The way I feel when I’m with you...”

Thank you so much for the prompt! This Hawke is red mage Hawke who's more action than words.... attempting to use his words XD Written for @dadrunkwriting

He found the ingredients hidden in the floorboard last week and Hawke still hasn’t found the right words. He’s a mage whose father did extensive research, leaving all his notebooks behind when he died. Though he was able to shield Hawke and his siblings from the darker topics like being forced to use blood magic for the wardens, that doesn’t mean Hawke doesn’t know what these could be used for. 

Normally, Hawke isn’t afraid of confrontation. He’s the type of man who goes head first into things he wants and isn’t afraid to use his fists when necessary. Even though he’s a mage, he’s built like a warrior and he’s a force to be reckoned with when he uses these muscles. 

But with Anders, he’s completely out of his depths. Hawke would never describe himself as soft or emotional. He’s blunt and angry. Life has dealt him a shit hand, of course he’s always pissed.

Except when he’s with Anders.

So why the fuck did he lie about these ingredients? Why did he feel the need to hide this from him? Out of everyone in the world, Hawke would be the one to understand!

“Fuck,” he breathes out, running fingers through his hair in frustration. With a wave of his hand, he lights the fire, getting it roaring and warming the room. 

Hawke keeps his emotions bottled up, locked away inside his chest. Sure, he lets everyone know he’s mad as fuck, but all the other emotions? They stay inside. He holds himself back because they make him uncomfortable. As he looks around at the room, looks at the soft mage lights floating around, looks at the flowers sitting on the table beside their bed, Hawke thinks about how Anders is worth feeling a bit uncomfortable for.

It’s not long after the sun sets that Hawke hears Anders crawling through the back entrance and walking slowly towards their room. The same adrenaline rush he’s used to feeling during battle hits him as he sits and waits for Anders. This could end in disaster but fuck, he really hopes it doesn’t. 

Hawke stands as Anders steps into the room. His shoulders look so heavy in his black robe, a new style he’s been sporting lately, adding to the overall cloud that’s been following him. Hawke’s chest aches as he looks at the man he’s come to care for so much. He holds so much just out of reach, so much on his shoulders. How did someone so good and bright fall for someone like Hawke? 

“Anders.”

Anders’ eyes snap up, his face morphing with surprise. He looks around at everything before looking back at Hawke. There’s a timid smile on his face, like he’s not sure what’s going on. 

“Hawke? What’s umm, what’s going on? What’s all this?” 

Hawke knows he should be using his words but he’s always been a man of action. Instead of speaking, he steps into Anders’ space, pulling their bodies flush. He cups Anders’ face, the face he loves so much, and gently kisses his lips. 

Anders melts against him, the weight on his shoulders slowly falling away. Hawke helps him out of his coat before pulling him over to the bed, guiding them both to sit down. He tucks a stray hair out of Anders’ face, tucking it behind his ear. 

He’s beautiful, but being in this place, being in this city is doing something to him. Hawke understands. There’s so much hate it practically leaves the streets bleeding with it. He fights until he’s wrung out, knuckles bloody, but it never feels enough. 

Anders is staring at him and Hawke realizes that now is the time to put it all on the line. He fucking loathes talking about his feelings, but Anders is worth the discomfort. Hawke needs him to understand that he’s in this. Fully. 

“I love you,” he says, wincing when his voice comes out like a grunt. By Andraste’s flaming tits, he’s bad at this. Hawke clears his throat, trying again. “Anders, I love you.”

Anders tilts his head to the side, a little smile playing at his lips. “I love you too. I’m still confused, Garret. This is so unlike you.” He reaches out, touching Hawke’s forehead with the back of his hand. 

Hawke snorts, shaking his head and shoving Anders’ hand away. “I’m not sick,” he grumbles. “I’m trying to talk about something but words are hard.”

“Words are very hard,” Anders says in agreement, his face breaking out into a grin. It might be the most beautiful sight Hawke has seen in a very long time. 

“I need you to know something.” Hawke moves even closer, holding Anders’ face between his palms. He stares into Anders’ golden eyes, trying to convey his feelings as best as he can. “The way I feel when I’m with you…”

“Yes, love?”

“I’ve never felt like this before. You once said you would drown the world in blood to keep me safe, how could I do anything less for you? I would watch it all burn. I would blow up the Gallows themselves if it meant keeping you here with me,” he says, choosing his words very carefully, waiting to see Anders’ reaction. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath before Anders tries to pull away. The joke’s on him, because Hawke is far stronger. He holds Anders’ tight, forcing him to stay right where he is. 

“Don’t you dare look away,” Hawke says, his voice suddenly harder than he meant for it to be. “Anders. I’m all in. Don’t keep me out when I’ll gladly be the hands with blood on them to keep yours clean.”

“That’s the problem! I can’t tell you. I need to keep you safe.”

“That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard.”

Anders startles, his eyes wide. “I know, Anders. And I want in. If you do this without me, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You’ll never forgive me anyway. What I plan to do, Hawke, there’ll be no going back.”

Hawke stares into Anders’ eyes, bringing their faces even closer until their foreheads touch. He wishes he could meld themselves together so he could be even closer to Anders. He wants to crawl into his ribcage and hold his heart in his hands. How does he not understand the depths of Hawke’s feelings?

“Good.” Hawke’s voice is hard. “You’re not the only mage in this relationship. You might have a spirit of Justice inside of you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t ache for the same freedoms you do. If you won’t let me in, I’ll do it myself and you’ll kick yourself for years that you weren’t there to help me.”

“Garret.”

“I’m serious. Let. Me. In.”

What little fight Anders is holding onto leaves him all at once, a breath leaving his lips. There’s a moment when they both continue to stare at each other before Anders breaks. He lunges forward, shoving Hawke onto his back and crawls into his lap. 

“I love you so much,” Anders says, diving down and kissing Hawke’s lips. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. We’re in this together.”

“We’ll watch it all burn down. We’ll make them see,” Hawke says in agreement, kissing Anders back with the same intensity as he’s giving. 

Hawke might not be a man of many words, but when it counts, apparently he knows exactly what to say. Words might have worked on Anders, but he knows they won’t work with the war that’s been raging in this city. It’s finally time to take action. 

[des-no9]

bitten belonging E - 1.7k Prince Orpheus/Vanquish/(Kith'rak Voss) Background Kith'rak Voss/Ka'zalii

CW: Dubcon, Unhealthy Relationships, Fisting, Voyeurism, Blood and Violence

Inspired by my friend @zetchrr's amazing fic equals. It's a partner fic to it, from Vanquish and Orpheus' POV as they watch Voss teach Ka'zalii a lesson.

Read on AO3 here. Or full below cut. Enjoy <3

----

Voss had left the door open.

A big enough window for a view, were it not for the Prince before Vanquish, elegant and at poise at the end of the bed, stretched across the lounger, eyes fixed ahead when the ping of metal goblet to floor.

A slither over the bed, her tail a python, rustling the silk and cushions Orpheus so favoured for comfort. Such a stark foil to the feel of Voss' bed. Plain. Practicality. The softest thing there her own behind and sometimes the words he slips against her ear, his breath between her thighs.

Ever since Orpheus had granted her permission to his quarters, it had proved difficult to remove her. Often finding all three gathering here instead of elsewhere. It was starting to stink of her. These infernal istik smells sometimes so close to the hum of chains that had left a permanence on his skin, dug deep.

Orpheus runs two fingers over the marks on his wrist, tucking them under Voss' leather riding straps. Old, worn.

He knew they'd been wrapped around Vanquish before, a deep indent of her teeth in the leather. So he'd done so again around her once; a mark for you, a mark for me.

Pulls the leather tighter around his wrist as his eyes flick up towards the doorway, to the table where he watches the spill of red wine soak the ends of Ka'zalii's hair, shine over the beads he loved so much.

Feels her touch his back.

Pulls the leather, tight.

"What?"

Rigidity in his back, lines between his eyes that still stare. Stare at the way Voss looms over Ka'zalii, worth over worth-to-be-proven; power beneath power-you-could-only-dream.

Permission for one thing did not grant all. But this istik behind him did not seem to grasp such a concept. Stuck between the legs of Voss for so long had deafened her, dulled her already inferior mind.

Clicks his tongue. She was still mla'ghir; she was still Voss' mate. Held such value to him, and he such value to Orpheus. It was a disservice to them both to lower himself to such pettiness.

Usually.

Feels her shuffle closer, a small hand simmering along his shoulder.

She's never tentative in her touch. She never had been. Even without the acceptance of Voss, or his guiding hand with her, or cocks inside her. And he couldn't quite decide yet if it was courage, or recklessness.

"Did you always like to watch him with vin'isk, istik?"

She tries to speak with as much Tir as possible these days. It's clumsy over her heavy accent, but musical. He isn't ready to admit, but he appreciates it. Enjoys it. Finds a strange connection to her with their struggles over the modern version of his language that sometimes feels like an affront to his own existence.

"Sometimes, yes."

Glances up, through the doorway. Hears the slew of messy, pleasured Tir spill from Ka'zalii's mouth. Defiance. Insolence.

A quiet smile as he watches Voss move slow, with power over his prey. No performance, just purpose. The necessary motion, and always, bite. The swell of blood snapping in the air immediately. Could hear the tear of flesh, submission beneath Voss' maw; could hear the softest moan at that act, Voss at his basest. Before he just thrust, Ka'zalii shifting up the table a little more.

They formed two different branches of grace. Orpheus the restless storm. Art and chaos. Voss—

Voss he could never quite form to his own words, but beast. Nal. Elegance in every bite and tear of flesh between his teeth; in ways he moves that you don't expect from someone so thin, so old, so much power contained in shadow you forget.

"He has grown soft," says Orpheus, staring at the movements, motion. At the spark of lightning from Ka'zalii's fingers. A small smile.

Feels Vanquish behind him breathe closer, her body warmer. Fat thighs pressing against the jut of his hip. Can smell her cunt. Can almost hear it as she moves she's so wet watching her mate koth'ann her friend.

A new word she'd learned, of late.

A new word she'd felt. Grown to love. Want.

Orpheus glances at the spread of her hand over his shoulder, following the lines of his tattoos. Then feels her claws press hard. Feels her snap a surprise breath as Voss picks up his sword and pierces it clean through Ka'zalii's shoulder, to table, his cry shivering over her skin, denting a fang on her lip.

"If that's soft," she says, the words close, breathy against Orpheus' ears, "what was he like before?"

Orpheus turns, seeing her face drenched in near awe. "I'll tell him to demonstrate on you, sh'k'nal."

Her breathing quicker as the words touch her ear. As she watches Voss thrust back in, the spill of blood and wine smearing skin to wood to floor in decadence. Ka'zalii's cry of pain, Voss' stifled moans she knows as well as her own.

Compulsion, as she takes Orpheus' hand, dipping it between her thighs. Hot. Already smeared wet.

Resist.

Power in the way he does, as he stares. A question at her insolence that he somehow keeps finding stuck to his lips, twisted between his sheets.

"Stop that," she says, losing the battle of strength. Always already lost there. But she'll do it anyway. Sometimes calling Caiphon's help when it's Voss. Not there yet with Orpheus. So her small hand alone tugs around Orpheus' fist of power, sh'k'nal claws denting hard skin as she shifts to her knees on the lounger with him, legs spread. Uneven.

She tries to tower over him.

Maybe he lets her, head dipped back, body a languid lounge.

Hand still unyielding.

"You said to Voss that night," fighting with him, tugging on his hold, snapping her tail around to help pull, "'what is yours is mine'" she repeats in broken Tir.

Orpheus sneers. Feels her tail pull hard with her—

—and the sensation like Voss' leather binds, the infernal chains, around his wrists.

A cut of sound against his throat, it shines in his eyes. Bares his teeth. Fingers blare with his psionics. She knows their lash. Has felt it; wanted, unwanted.

"What's his is also mine," she stumbles over, knees digging either side of Orpheus' thighs, the symphony of Ka'zalii's moans, a swear, of Voss snarling, of him biting back down on any flesh he can fit his maw around their backdrop. Their litany of lust.

"I am no istik's thing."

"You'll be mine, though."

Tries to hit her. Hand ablaze with his psionics. Tries to bat it away with her own hand. Fails. Suffers a psionic lash on her skin for it. Snarls a moan, fangs bared. But what is a drop amongst the sea.

She's afraid. But it's what she wants.

His hand is between her legs somehow. Rigid. Pushed between and up against her soaking cunt. She's rougher than a lot of istik between there. Can handle githyanki more than most. The ridges, rougher skin. Or maybe it's just the desperate desire to bleed from within.

And she grinds. Grinds hard against his fingers, hand, still clamped with her own, with her tail.

He's so hard against his sheath. Already swollen from watching Voss, listening. Now her. Always her in some shape or way.

He takes two fingers, thrusts them in.

Feels her ride them, fast.

Satisfaction when he stretches her to three, a coil of psionics at her back that hold her, prickling into her skin like nails.

Each finger burns with his psionics. He almost hears the sizzle of her wet and cunt every time he slides in, pulls out. Every captured moan she keeps quiet against her throat. He's not sure why. She likes it when Voss hears her. Likes to distract him, devour his attention with me me me—

But now, the only one who can hear, is Orpheus.

She's somehow looking down from above still, threads of hair sticking to her cheeks, lips. She tries to lick them away. Loses.

Four fingers in. Her body shudders, a knee almost off the lounge.

Orpheus leans forward, keeping her half on as he pulls out, then no patience, no warning, a stretch wide of her desperate cunt—

—fist in.

She has his other hand. A smother to her mouth. Teeth and tongue over fingers as she tastes, bites down. Bliss.

Rides that fist, eyes shut tight. Feels like her teeth might snap the harder she bites his hand, sinking onto pure power.

Then her eyes snap open as she hears something else.

The slow close of a door.

Soft steps. Hiss of armour. A gentle, satisfied sound.

Vanquish turns just in time to see Voss stride in, trousers still undone, and the edges of his scarred slit peeling closed, slow. Licks his fingers, lips. Strides past with a lazy look before he sits at the side on a chest, his old sword steady across his lap. And starts to clean it as he watches his mates.

She notices he'd left behind faint red footprints of Ka'zalii's blood. Smiles. Reaches down to touch one with Orpheus' finger.

Licks it. Moans.

Moans with the way Orpheus moves. Fist so deep in her it's past wrist, and down, her wetness making its own lines alongside his tattoos.

Dizzy. Moans louder. Vision fuzzy as it's not just skin she feels deep in her, but the static of his psionics bristling against her pleasure, her pain, plucking out the way she moans, moves. Slides her own hand around his, smearing her wetness up, and over. Marking him in what matters.

Me.

He pushes harder then. Another shock of psionics—

—and fuck, her orgasm, blinding.

Loud and arching off the lounger, the nails of his psionics harder in her back.

A hand through her hair, kiss to her neck.

"He was satisfactory, adilshar," coos the words above her. More words, not for her. Another kiss above, not for her. Hiss of armour as he leaves, dragging his claws along her arm, to hand, to hold. Feels a bead held between his fingers. Rolls it against hers before he lets her go.

A kiss this time for her. Sharp.

"Keep trying to collar me, sh'k'nal."

Vanquish smiles, breathless, still riding the bliss of her orgasm. "Half-way there, gith."

---

Tir used in 'bitten belonging'

CANON Istik - word for non-githyanki, usually derogatory Mla'ghir - saviour, liberator Vin'isk - underling Adilshar-first among many; Created Meaning: term of endearment, affection and most importantly, an address of absolute respect, levelling someone to the githyanki speakers worth

CREATED Nal - beast Sh'k'nal - word githyanki use for Tiefling; literally, Hell Creature/Beast Koth'ann - to take, to claim, to devour - context reliant

[prettypup188]

Date with a Doll

(Pt.3, Flirty Dallas,a bit of cursing, makeout, sweet talkin’, enjoy! This’ll be the last part for Dallas but I will continue to write for the others!❤️)

(Creds to: @uzmacchiato )

I leaned against my bathroom counter as I took flex curlers out of my hair, my usually dense hair was now straight with curls on the end. While Chuck Berry played in the background I hummed to the tune till I heard a shout from downstairs, “Y/n! Someone’s on the phonefor you!”, I came downstairs to see my mom holding the phone while she stood with a confused look on her face, “Says its a Dallas? Sounds like a boy.”, she chimed handing me the phone. “Hello?”, there was a short pause until I heard a small grunt, “Hey,doll face its dally. Thought you gave me the wrong number or sum when i called.”, I giggled as I sat down on the sofa the plastic underneath me crackling softly, “Sorry, I don’t have my own personal phone.”, he hmm’d in response, before clearing his throat “So, did you still wanna take up my offer on that date?”, I felt my heart race a bit at the proposition.

“Don’t know, will you try and kidnap me again.”, he cackled over the phone, “No, ma’am I won’t.”, I looked over at my mom who watched in confusion at the inside joke. “Well, you should talk to my dad about this date.”, I said as my dad walked into the living room with a confused look. I handed the phone to my dad and waited patiently as he spoke to Dallas on phone, occasionally “mhm’s” and “ok’s” were heard until my dad finally hung up, “Be back by 11, it’s a school night.”, I smiled widely as I squealed in happiness running upstairs to find an outfit, as I rummaged through my closet for the perfect dress I finally settled on a mint green dress and soft matching Cardigan as I touched up my makeup fixing my updo in the mirror while i waited near the front door. When I heard a loud roar of an engine outside I quietly grabbed my purse, telling my mom and dad a quick goodbye as I walked towards the slick black Cadillac, Dallas lowered his sunglasses with a weed hanging between his lips, he whistled as he swiftly got out of the car to help me with my door, “Boy, I ain’t think you were gonna get all dolled up.”, I shrugged as I slid into the passenger seat, “Gotta keep up appearances.”, he revved up the car pressing on the gas. I stumbled to put on my seatbelt, “We’ll go to my favorite diner doll.”, he explained as he rode down the street while I listened intently.

“Golden jukebox”, the sign gleamed overhead the quiet diner as Dallas helped me out of the car. “Woah, Dally.”, whistled a greaser that clearly knew Dallas as he looked over, turning around swiftly as he closed the passenger door, “Hey, Rob.”, “I see why yah ditched Sylvia, look at this gem.”, I smiled looking the older tall guy as Dallas wrapped an arm around my waist. “We’re on a date, I’ll catch up with you again another time, yeah?”, he swiftly opened the front door and guided me inside as we walked into the quiet diner he guided me to a booth in the back, “They’re burgers are the best.”,he chimed while he looked at the menu. An older lady walked over with a pen and notepad in hand, “What can i get ya?”, she said with a smack of her gum. Dallas ordered for the both us, a plate of burger and fries and two milkshakes to share, as we waited we talked about any and everything spanning from New York to how terrible Socs were and I could tell Dallas HATED the Socs but not just because of what they did to him but mainly because of what they did to Johnny two summers ago, “That’s why he’s so jumpy?”, I asked curiously and concerned Dallas only nodded as he laid back in his seat, he looked tuff to others but to me he looked beautiful, “Watcha thinking in that noggin’?”, he asked smoothly as he took a bite of his fries. I shook my head, “Nothing.”, I said as I sipped at my milkshake. He only shook his head, “Your just like Ponyboy. Always lost in thought, at least when it’s with you it’s fuckin adorable.”, I smiled as I rolled my eyes playfully, after dinner Dallas drove me home with twenty minutes to spare, “Dallas.”, I said softly as we sat in front of my house with Elvis playing softly in the background, “Yeah?”, I looked at him, his white golden hair slicked back with the exception of a few strands sticking to the front and his lazy smirk plastered on the front. I reached closer to him, kissing him passionately for a second I figured he would push me away and cuss me out but he only pulled me closer, grabbing my waist and starting to use tongue as I could hear a soft groan from his lips. I tried to pull away but he only pulled me back hungrily as his mouth traveled to my neck and collarbone, “Dallas.”, I breathed softly placing hands on his shoulder and stopping him, he looked at him with a dark passionate look, “Yeah?”, “Let’s get to know each other more, yeah? I ain’t easy.”, he smiled letting out a chuckle, “For you, I wouldn’t mind.” I straighten up getting out the car as I checked my watch, he turned on his car, I leaned over and gave him one last kiss. “Night, dally.”, “Night, dollface.” He said as he drove off, I made my way inside feeling a bit of a pep in my step.

Bonus: Thar night Dallas laid in bed at Tim Shepard’s place, as the party in the living room boomed with laughter and yells he couldn’t help but think of you. He constantly touched his lips, and cussed under his breath wondering how the hell could a gal’s lips takes so sweet, that night he decided that he’d talk to Darry about marriage and maybe Sodapop, if he was real serious. “Just hope Johnny cakes likes her.”, he said as he snuggled to sleep trying to block out the noise.

(Hiii, I hope you guys enjoyed this small series!!! ❤️ pls comment and lemme know oki?)

[sketchygardenbah]

Hi! Could we get a level 2 (minus faceclaims) intermediate Wild Life BigB? We know he's partially a creaking, and probably a protector, and masc leaning (but not cis).

Please and thank you!!

↳-Letter 034-༉‧₊˚✧

°‧🌱 Thank you for stopping by the gardens , here is your New Plant ! We hope you enjoy eir company ! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Your patience has been much appreciated , may the stars guide you onwards .

《 Name[s]: BigB , Anthony , Thorne , Birch , Flint , Alder , Hunter

《 Nickname[s]: BB , Anton , The Creaking , Tony , Hunt

《 Age[s]: Agedox // Agefluid [30-45] // Nullage

《 Role[s]: Protector , Dissonaut , Swordsperson , Autopiloteer

《 3rd Person Pronouns [e.g. she/her]: he/him , ve/vim , ae/aem , ce/cim , ey/em , bae/baem , glow/glows , dead/deads , kill/kills , fog/fogs , forest/forests , mystery/mysterious , creak/creaks , pale/pales , grey/greys , eye/eyes , gaze/gazes , stare/stares , roll/rolls , snail/snails , scare/scares

《 1st Person Pronouns [e.g. I/me/myself] I/me/myself , bi/be/byself , di/dist/distantself , bo/boe/boyself , di/die/deadself , smi/smog/smogself , cle/clea/clearself , hid/hidd/hiddenself , tri/tric/trickself , tri/tra/trapself , bli/blin/blinkself

《 Gender[s]: Faunflux [genderfaun] , Demiboy , Creakingcoric , Obscurique , Gendershadow , Ovioptic

《 Sexuality / Orientation: Bisexual , Biromantic , Aroflux , Demi-human4Demi-human

《 Source [if applicable]: Wildlife [BigB]

《 Signoff: -BigB , -Anthony , -👁️🌱 , -🖤🧡 , -💤🌿

《 Likes: being alone , haunted places , the creaking , forests , nighttime , spooky sounds in the middle of the night , traps , sneaking up on people , being unpredictable , moonlight , heart beats , pasta , bugs , the feeling that something’s watching you

《 Dislikes: fluorescent lights , day time , cereal or ‘regualar’ breakfast foods , the ocean , open waters , boats , pure silence , being caught , being exiled , going on planes

《 Violence Level: 3.32

《 Typing Quirk: surrounds text with < > and sometimes cuts off sentences to start another [e.g. < Hello everyon- what was that sound? Oh you heard it to- anyway how’s your day been? >]

《 Birthday: February 28th // NullBirthday

.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

[jjjwritten]

do you think fakhri would use toys on kahar?

(your fakhrixkahar got me insaaane)

oh, most definitely. these two are FREAKY. i wrote a little something which started as an oral fixation thing and got out of control. i tried not to put too much english in the dialogue so here you go:

Fakhri had always been perceptive, especially when it came to Kahar. He noticed things. The smallest tics, the weird little habits, the barely-there shifts in mood. It was part of what made him such a good boyfriend, or so he liked to claim, but it wasn’t until recently that something clicked into place. Something he couldn’t unsee once it crossed his mind.

Kahar had an oral fixation.

Not just a maybe. Not a passing observation. No. Fakhri knew it now like he knew the taste of Kahar’s spit on his tongue, intimately, undeniably, and with the kind of dawning realization that made every little past moment slot together like puzzle pieces in hindsight.

He should’ve figured it out sooner. The signs were everywhere.

There were the obvious things. Like the way Kahar loved sucking him off. Not in the casual, “I’ll do it if you ask” kind of way. No, Kahar worshipped it. He needed it. His mouth around Fakhri’s cock was a near-daily thing, as routine as brushing his teeth. Sometimes he’d drop to his knees without a word, without being asked, mouthing at Fakhri through his pants like a man starved. And he didn’t need to be fucked face-first into the mattress either, though Fakhri would gladly do it. Most of the time, Kahar just wanted to hold it in his mouth. Like it soothed him. Grounded him. Fakhri could be doing anything, reading something on his phone, watching the news, eating leftovers on the couch, and Kahar would be there, between his legs, lips stretched wide, eyes half-lidded and distant as he sucked slow and heavy.

Just like right now.

Fakhri barely glanced up from his screen, legs spread lazily over the couch cushions, one hand resting across the back of Kahar’s head. His fingers worked in idle circles into his boyfriend’s scalp, petting more than guiding, like a man idly scratching behind his favorite dog’s ears. And below him, Kahar was… blissed out. Completely in his own world. On his knees, his mouth warm and wet around Fakhri’s length, not even bobbing his head anymore. Just sitting there, swallowing softly now and then, his tongue twitching like he was content to just… hold it. To have it. Like a cigarette between his lips or a lollipop he refused to finish too fast.

And that was the other thing.

It wasn’t just Fakhri’s cock. Kahar had a history of putting anything and everything in his mouth. He’d always have a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, sometimes even unlit, just to chew on the filter. Fakhri had caught him once gnawing on the end of a pencil during a club meeting, his jaw clenching rhythmically like he was edging himself with the graphite taste. Lollipops disappeared far too quickly around him. Hard candy? Always cracked between his teeth with obscene crunches. Gum? Chomped violently until his jaw ached.

And the pens, good God, the pens. Kahar would click them obsessively before sinking them between his teeth, biting until the plastic shell bore his imprints. Sometimes he'd skim through his textbook with the pen just resting on his tongue, lips pursed, cheek hollowed like he was trying not to moan around it.

But this?

This was Fakhri’s favorite version of it. Kahar on his knees, drooling around him, looking dazed and dreamy like sucking cock was just a mindless comfort activity.

Fakhri tilted his phone slightly, glancing down. “Kahar? Cinta okay ke kat bawah tu?”

Kahar’s eyes blinked slowly. He didn’t pull off, didn’t even hum, just gave a single, small nod with Fakhri still thick and heavy in his mouth. The tip of his tongue licked around the underside lazily, like he wasn’t in a hurry. He never was. This wasn’t about climax. It was about the feeling, the weight, the taste, the act.

Fakhri smiled, lowering his phone completely now, his full attention shifting to the boy between his legs. Kahar was flushed, the corners of his eyes slightly wet, but not from gagging, he hadn’t gagged once. Fakhri had trained him well. Kahar’s mouth could take anything. It was greedy, a thing of devotion and obsession, like he was trying to imprint the shape of Fakhri into his throat permanently.

“Mmm, kau ni memang pervert, kan cinta?” Fakhri murmured, his voice thick with fondness, fingers trailing down to brush the line of Kahar’s cheekbone. “Sampai kau rela dapat ni dari makan malam.”

Kahar blinked again, his lips twitching like he wanted to smile, as much as he could with a mouthful of cock. He shifted slightly, pressing closer, lips sealing tighter like he didn’t want to let it go.

Fakhri let his head fall back with a quiet sigh, basking in the warm, wet suction, the lazy devotion. His free hand slipped further down, cupping the back of Kahar’s neck, thumb stroking the nape.

“Kau lagi suka ada something untuk kau hisap, hm?” he whispered. “Tak kisah lah apa pun, janji boleh. Hm, kalau aku letak madu atas jari aku and suh kau hisap sampai bersih, confirm kau ikut je. Entah-entah kau nak lagi.”

Kahar made a sound then, a soft, high noise that vibrated down Fakhri’s length. Fakhri’s hips twitched slightly in response, but he didn’t thrust. Not yet. He liked watching Kahar be like this, he liked seeing his bratty, loud-mouthed boyfriend all soft and pliant and eager, used to mouthing off and picking fights but now rendered completely silent, gagged by choice and love.

And Fakhri knew it was love. No one sucked cock like this unless they were in love. No one surrendered this much, for this long, without expecting something back.

Kahar didn’t just have an oral fixation, he had him. Fakhri owned every inch of his boyfriend’s mouth, every craving and hunger and addiction. And that knowledge burned warm and deep in his chest.

Maybe later, he’d pull Kahar up, kiss him slow, feed him a lollipop and watch the way he tongued it like he did Fakhri’s cock. Maybe he’d fuck him deep and sweet while Kahar moaned around a finger in his mouth just to have something to suck on.

But for now, he just let the moment stretch on, basking in the quiet, obscene devotion.

“Good boy,” Fakhri murmured, letting his head fall back again, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t stop.”

Kahar moaned low around Fakhri’s cock, the sound reverberating down the thick length resting heavy on his tongue. It wasn’t even a performative moan, not the kind meant to tease or flatter. No, this was something raw, automatic, pulled from deep in his gut. His own arousal pulsed in time with it, undeniable and distracting, and he squirmed where he knelt between Fakhri’s thighs.

His pants had grown tight, painfully so, the heat in his belly sharp and demanding. His thighs pressed together, flexing uselessly for relief as his hand crept between them, fingers fumbling with the bulge straining against the fabric. He groaned again, more desperate this time, the noise muffled and wet as his lips sealed tighter around the thick base of Fakhri’s cock. His eyelids fluttered shut, overwhelmed, dizzy with the heady taste, the smell of sweat and skin and something distinctly Fakhri.

Then, like a siren call, the awareness of being watched crept into him.

Kahar forced his eyes open, lashes heavy with lust, and looked up.

Fakhri was already watching.

Of course he was.

That calm, knowing gaze was fixed on him with a curiosity that made Kahar’s stomach twist in anticipation. Fakhri wasn’t surprised, he never was, but he did look intrigued, like he’d stumbled on some rare treasure he hadn’t yet fully unwrapped.

Kahar whimpered around him, then pushed forward until his nose buried itself into the dark, neatly trimmed curls above Fakhri’s base. His eyes didn’t leave Fakhri’s face. He tilted his head just so, mouth stretched wide, tears pricking the corners of his eyes from the depth and still, still, he didn’t pull back.

He wanted Fakhri to see him like this. See how much he could take. See how deep he’d go. See the kind of boy he was when he wanted to be good.

Fakhri’s brows lifted slightly, his lips curving into a slow, lazy smile, impressed, and more than a little pleased. One hand came up to cup Kahar’s jaw, his thumb brushing along his cheekbone before slipping down to his chin, guiding him carefully, gently back.

Kahar gasped as he let himself be pulled away, drool trailing from the corner of his lips, glossy and slick. His chest heaved, eyes half-lidded, lips kiss-swollen and red. He looked wrecked and they’d barely begun.

Fakhri’s voice was smooth and rich, soft with amusement. “Kau ni memang nak suffocate diri kau sendiri ke kau betul-betul nak aku praise kau ni, hm?”

Kahar licked his lips shamelessly, chasing the taste. “Kalau dua-dua aci tak?”

Fakhri chuckled, his other hand sliding back into Kahar’s hair, fingers curling just enough to tug. “Mmm, nasib baik kau pandai hisap, kan?”

He let go, and Kahar dove back in, not with the desperation of a man dying of thirst, but with the slow, devastating control of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. His tongue worked in tight, practiced spirals, curling along the underside, then flicking playfully at the tip before sliding back down. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking so hard it pulled a groan from deep in Fakhri’s chest.

Kahar's free hand finally slipped past the waistband of his pants. He palmed himself shamelessly now, cock throbbing in his grip, leaking from how utterly turned on he was just from this, just from serving. From making Fakhri fall apart slowly, bit by bit.

“Fuck,” Fakhri hissed, his head tipping back, hips rolling up into the warmth of Kahar’s mouth. “Mana kau belajar untuk suck dick camni, ha?”

Kahar made a pleased little hum, then pulled back just enough to whisper hoarsely, “Practice lah.”

Fakhri grinned, breath stuttering as Kahar swallowed him down again, throat flexing around the length like it belonged there. Every stroke of his tongue was deliberate, every shift of pressure carefully calibrated to draw out just the right reactions, a hiss, a groan, a twitch of the hips.

His mouth was obscene, but it was more than that. It was worship. He kissed the tip like it was sacred, nuzzled into the base like he wanted to mark it as home. His mouth wasn’t a mouth anymore, it was a furnace, a vice, a shrine.

“Holy shit, cinta,” Fakhri gasped, threading his fingers through Kahar’s hair again, holding him there but not forcing. He didn’t need to. Kahar wanted to be here. Every shiver, every moan, every breathless whine into the curve of Fakhri’s thigh made that clear.

Kahar’s eyes fluttered open again, glassy and dazed, and Fakhri nearly came from the look alone. Dark and wanting, glossy with tears and lust, filled with nothing but him.

It was the best head Fakhri had ever received, not because of technique (though God knows that the boy had technique for days), but because of the way Kahar gave himself up so entirely. Like sucking cock was the only thing grounding him to reality. Like he didn’t care about getting off, only about getting Fakhri off.

And Fakhri was close, dangerously close.

He gripped Kahar’s chin again, tilting his head back gently, guiding him off with a breathless groan. Kahar let go with a pop, tongue still trailing after the tip like he couldn’t bear to be parted. His lips were slick with spit, his chin wet, his eyes wide and hungry.

“Masuk bilik, on the bed,” Fakhri said, voice low and hoarse. “I’m not gonna waste that mouth.”

Kahar’s grin was feral.

Kahar scrambled off the floor the moment Fakhri gave the word, a mess of eager limbs and breathless anticipation. His fingers trembled with urgency as he stripped, flinging off his shirt and pants in a disheveled trail across the floor, uncaring where they landed. The second his skin hit the cool sheets, he sank down into a W-sitting position, his knees folded beneath him, thighs spread wide, spine arched in that familiar, obedient curve that he knew Fakhri loved.

His head tilted back, mouth open obscenely wide, his tongue stretched out and dripping with want. His lips were still wet from earlier, chin still glistening from spit and arousal. There was something mindlessly hungry in his eyes, glassy, desperate, utterly unashamed.

Fakhri stood in the doorway for a beat, just watching him. He clicked the door shut behind him with the finality of a man sealing off the world. The soft metallic click of the lock sounded almost too quiet for the kind of things they were about to do.

Fakhri’s pupils dilated with a sharp rush of lust, swallowing up the warm brown of his irises. His jaw twitched, chest rising with a slow breath like he was trying to steady himself. Kahar looked wrecked already and they hadn’t even begun. His slim body glowed in the low light, muscles subtly flexed from the way he posed himself, like he was made to be devoured. It was like Kahar wasn’t just asking to be used, he was begging for it, offering his throat like a gift.

And Fakhri? He was never one to ignore a present.

He licked his lips, slow and purposeful, as he stepped forward and peeled off his clothes, not bothering with the grace he usually had. Everything about his movements was raw, filled with hunger. His cock was already heavy and hard, flushed and leaking at the tip. It bobbed slightly with each step he took, and Kahar’s eyes followed it like he was watching salvation approach.

“Tengok lah kau ni, cinta,” Fakhri murmured, voice low and amused. “You love this, huh?”

Kahar’s only response was a low whimper, tongue still out, fingers digging into the mattress on either side of his thighs like he needed something to anchor him.

Fakhri didn’t waste another second.

He surged forward and grabbed Kahar by the jaw, thumb pressing into one cheek, fingers biting into the other as he tilted Kahar’s head higher. “Keep that mouth open.”

And Kahar did. Beautifully.

Fakhri shoved his cock into that waiting heat with no hesitation, the wet warmth of Kahar’s mouth enveloping him all at once. He bottomed out almost immediately, Kahar gagging slightly before adjusting his throat with practiced ease. The way Kahar took him, relaxed, obedient, and needy, was so perfect it made Fakhri groan aloud, his hips jerking forward of their own accord.

He gripped the back of Kahar’s head with one hand, the other braced on the headboard as he began to fuck his mouth in earnest, with deep, harsh strokes that made Kahar’s whole body rock. His head snapped back with each thrust, spit flying from the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin and onto his chest.

Kahar just let it happen. Moaning around the intrusion, thighs pressed tightly together as he trembled from the sheer intensity of being used. His cock was still achingly hard, untouched, pressed painfully against his stomach as Fakhri drove into his throat again and again.

“Fucking perfect,” Fakhri growled, looking down at him with a gleam in his eye. “You were made for this, weren’t you?”

Kahar let out a garbled sound, eyes fluttering, fingers curling against the sheets as Fakhri's cock repeatedly punched down his throat, his lips swollen and raw, nose pressed into Fakhri’s pelvis with each deep thrust. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t form words but he didn’t need to. His body said everything.

He was pliant. Willing. Craving it.

Fakhri slowed for a moment, just a moment, pulling back far enough to let Kahar gasp for air. The boy took in a ragged, broken inhale, spit trailing in glistening strings from his lips to Fakhri’s cock. His chest heaved, and he blinked up at Fakhri through lashes wet with tears.

And he smiled. A fucked-out, breathless grin.

Fakhri’s control snapped.

With a growl, he shoved Kahar down onto the mattress, pressing one hand between his shoulder blades to hold him there. He didn’t even flip him over, just bent him forward in the same position, forcing Kahar’s face into the sheets, then shoved his cock back into his mouth from above, angling his hips until he could fuck down into that greedy heat.

The change in angle had Kahar sobbing around him, drooling helplessly as Fakhri’s cock battered his throat. Kahar’s own hips jerked forward with every thrust, grinding into the sheets, desperate for friction.

“Dirty little thing,” Fakhri hissed, thrusts becoming erratic, rougher. “You get off on this, don’t you? Can’t even breathe but you’re dripping like a bitch in heat.”

Kahar whined, throat flexing around Fakhri’s cock. He was shaking now, muscles trembling, legs spread wide to keep from collapsing completely. His eyes rolled back, more tears spilling as he choked on every thrust, and still, still, he didn’t try to stop him. Not once.

Fakhri gripped his hair and yanked his head back just enough to see his face, spit-slicked, cheeks flushed, tears trailing down in messy wet streaks. And smiling. Still fucking smiling.

“You’re insane,” Fakhri muttered, breathless, turned on beyond reason. “And I fucking love it.”

With a guttural groan, he drove into Kahar’s mouth one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he came hard, hot, thick ropes spilling directly down Kahar’s throat. Kahar swallowed instinctively, taking all of it, even as his body twitched from the overwhelming sensation.

He stayed there for a moment, still panting, cock still twitching as it softened between Kahar’s lips. He pulled out slowly, watching with hazy eyes as Kahar let it fall free, tongue catching the last drops with a satisfied hum.

Then Kahar looked up, voice rough and low, eyes burning with desire.

“Ri, lagi?”

Just with those two words, Fakhri’s cock throbbed back to a half-chub Fakhri hadn’t even managed to answer him before Kahar’s mouth was already back on him, hungry, and worshipful, that tongue trailing along his length with the same reverence he might’ve given to something holy. His lips were swollen, chin glistening, and still he worked with focused determination, his eyes locked upward through dark lashes like he lived to see Fakhri melt under his touch.

And melt he did.

Fakhri exhaled sharply, cock twitching back to life at the sight of Kahar so eager, so ready to serve again. It was like Kahar needed to keep going, like he needed something filling his mouth, something occupying him, something to submit to.

“Insatiable,” Fakhri murmured, brushing his fingers through Kahar’s sweat-damp hair, tugging lightly just to hear the soft whine it pulled from him.

“Duduk situ diam-diam,” he said after a beat, voice suddenly firmer, laced with that familiar edge of control.

Kahar froze in place, tongue still flicking along the underside of Fakhri’s half-hard cock, like he was holding a position he’d been trained for. His knees didn’t budge from where they’d been planted on the bedsheets, and his hands came up to rest obediently on his thighs.

Fakhri disappeared into their closet, leaving the door slightly ajar. Kahar didn’t move but his mind raced. He already knew what Fakhri was going to get.

And when he heard the soft rattle of the drawer, the sound of shifting plastic and a faint electronic hum? His breath caught in his throat. A shiver ran down his spine. His mouth felt hotter, wetter, just from the anticipation.

When Fakhri came back, he was holding exactly what Kahar had imagined, the deep violet silicone glinting faintly under the light, sleek and wide and unmistakable. The dildo. Seven inches of thick, unforgiving girth with those dual motors and carefully ridged textures that always left Kahar seeing stars.

Fakhri tilted his head, watching the way Kahar’s eyes dilated, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as his body betrayed just how much he craved it.

“You remember this one?” Fakhri teased, voice like velvet and sin. “Tak payah nak mintak pun, kan?”

Kahar nodded, unable to speak, the lump in his throat replaced by the ache of anticipation.

Without another word, Fakhri pulled him up by the wrist and laid him out on the bed, knees bent, hips elevated slightly with a pillow shoved beneath him. Kahar’s hands clutched at the sheets, already trembling with need.

Fakhri knelt between his legs and got to work, slow, deliberate stretches at first, his fingers coated in lube as he prepped him with a focus that felt halfway like torture. Kahar squirmed, breath catching every time Fakhri curled his fingers just right, brushing against that spot that made his eyes flutter shut, made his mouth fall open in a silent gasp.

“You love the burn,” Fakhri whispered, leaning down to speak it directly into Kahar’s ear. “You always do.”

And Kahar, shameless and pliant, nodded with a needy whimper, legs falling further apart in invitation.

When the dildo finally pressed against him, wide and unyielding, his body arched off the mattress. That stretch, that overwhelming fullness, was immediate. It filled him in a way that had him choking on his own moan, lips parted around a breathless sound that could barely be called human.

Fakhri didn’t give him time to adjust. Not this time.

The toy slid in slow but deep, pushed snug against his prostate with practiced precision. Kahar trembled, thighs tensing around Fakhri’s waist, and his hands clawed uselessly at the sheets as the tip nudged against that bundle of nerves again and again. And then he heard it.

Click.

Fakhri turned the dial on the remote.

Kahar gasped, eyes flying open as the vibrations hit full force. It wasn’t just buzzing, it was deep, powerful, relentless. The way it throbbed inside him left him stunned, mouth working open and closed as his hips jerked without his control. His vision swam. The pleasure was instant, thick and punishing, like a flood of sensation he wasn’t ready for.

“J-jap, aku–” he choked out, voice already hoarse. “Aku takleh–”

“Yes, you can,” Fakhri said, sliding forward, grabbing Kahar by the hair again. “You’ll take it. You want this, remember?”

And before Kahar could speak again, Fakhri filled his mouth once more.

There was no lead-up this time, no slow easing in. Fakhri's cock slid between his lips and right back into his throat in one brutal, claiming stroke. Kahar’s eyes went wide, a garbled sound caught around the length invading his mouth. He was overwhelmed from the front, from the back, from every part of his body being pushed to its edge.

Fakhri’s rhythm was punishing now. He face-fucked him with force, hips slamming forward with every thrust as his cock hit the back of Kahar’s throat again and again. The bed rocked beneath them. Kahar gagged and swallowed and moaned around him, the vibrations deep inside his body making his mind go hazy with overstimulation.

He couldn’t breathe properly. Couldn’t think. And still, he took it all.

Tears streaked his face. Spit and drool coated his lips and dribbled down his chin. His thighs twitched from the constant pulsing inside him, and the fact that he still hadn’t even touched himself made it worse. Or better. He didn’t even know anymore.

All he could feel was Fakhri claiming his mouth, filling his body, pushing him toward a breaking point he hadn’t even realized he’d been aching for.

And Fakhri? He looked possessed, his face flushed, grinning, eyes blown wide with lust as he panted above him, hips driving forward with no hesitation, no mercy.

“Kau jangan berani nak pancut lagi,” Fakhri hissed, yanking back just enough to let Kahar breathe. “Not until I tell you.”

Kahar sobbed a soundless reply, his body trembling with restraint as the toy inside him buzzed against every nerve ending he had, demanding release.

But he obeyed. Of course he did.

Because when Fakhri looked at him like that, with heat, with hunger, with love buried somewhere deep behind the dominance, Kahar would do anything.

Anything at all.

It felt like forever, Fakhri switching between fucking his mouth harshly and fucking him with the vibrating dildo and without even touching his cock, Kahar sprayed cum everywhere, and Fakhri slowed to a stop, eyes narrowed as he watched Kahar soil the sheets.

It felt like the room was spinning, not from dizziness, but from the sheer intensity of everything Fakhri was doing to him.

Kahar’s body twitched with overstimulation, muscles taut, chest heaving with every breath. The sheets beneath him were a mess, soaked through with sweat, spit, and the evidence of everything he’d endured already. His thighs trembled violently as he tried to hold himself up, the dildo seated deep inside him, pulsing against his sweet spot with every relentless vibration.

Fakhri stood over him like a shadow, his presence thick with authority, heat radiating from his skin. His fingers were tangled in Kahar’s damp hair, tugging just enough to tilt his head back and force eye contact. Kahar’s lips were parted, his breath coming out in shallow gasps, his pupils wide and glassy, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, from pleasure or from the burn, even he wasn’t sure.

“Aku kata jangan pancut, kan?” Fakhri’s voice was low, dangerous, and calm in a way that made it all the more intense. Each word hit like a strike, biting into Kahar’s already raw psyche. “Tak pandai ikut arahan ke, ha?”

Kahar tried to answer, but only a weak sound escaped his throat, half a moan, half a whimper. His knees shifted uselessly against the sheets, his whole body in a delicate balance between collapse and obedience.

Fakhri’s grip in his hair tightened and he yanked Kahar’s head up further, forcing eye contact. “Tengok aku bila aku tengah bercakap. Jangan nak lari.”

Kahar's lips quivered, eyes fluttering from the stimulation still pulsing inside him. “S-sorry, Fakhri– aku– Kahar tak dapat–” Another moan broke through as the toy inside him shifted with a cruel buzz, pressing flush against his most sensitive spot. His arms gave out slightly and he nearly collapsed again.

Fakhri didn’t offer sympathy.

“Duduk tegak.”

The command cut through Kahar’s haze, sharp and demanding. Somehow, with what little strength he had left, he obeyed, using trembling hands to push himself upright, his thighs trembling from effort, from sensation, from the constant ache building deep inside him. The dildo shifted as he moved, sliding deeper. A sob slipped from his lips.

He sat on it fully. And Fakhri made sure he stayed there.

A moment later, the cold press of metal met Kahar’s skin. He gasped as the nipple clamps latched on with a cruel snap, and the chain connecting them tugged with every breath, every tremble. His whole body felt like it was wired to light, every nerve exposed, twitching. It was overwhelming. Exquisite. Unbearable.

“Ni aku nak ajar kau sikit,” Fakhri murmured as he knelt on the bed, looming closer. “That when I tell you not to cum, you don’t.” His hand came down lightly across Kahar’s cheek, not enough to hurt, but sharp enough to make him gasp and instinctively lean toward the touch, eyes hazy with need.

Kahar bit his lip, trying to stay quiet, trying to control his breathing. But the vibrations inside him were too much. Every shift, every bounce of the bed, every breath Fakhri took seemed to echo inside him through the toy. His back arched as he whimpered, his cock twitching between his legs despite the punishment.

Fakhri’s hand slid down his chest, catching the chain between the clamps and giving it a small, deliberate tug.

Kahar screamed.

The kind of scream that was more than pain. It was release. It was surrender.

It wasn’t long before the tremors began again. Kahar’s entire body tensed, his jaw trembling as he teetered on the edge again. He wasn’t even touching himself and he was going to cum.

Again.

Fakhri saw it in his eyes.

“Kau ni memang degil, kan? Memang taknak belajar langsung, kan?” His tone was mockingly sympathetic. He leaned in and whispered against Kahar’s lips. “Alright, then. Let’s see how many times it takes before you break.”

.-.

Kahar didn’t know how long he had been like this.

His thighs were shaking violently now, sweat dripping down his flushed skin, the chain between his nipples pulling with every shiver, every breath that rattled out of him. The burn between his legs had long since turned molten, his inner muscles twitching endlessly around the thick toy still pulsing deep inside him. Each vibration felt like it was cracking him open a little more.

Fakhri never looked away.

Seated with ease just in front of him, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and calculating, Fakhri had the aura of someone who could drag Kahar to the edge of sanity and still stay perfectly composed. And that was what made it worse or better, depending on how you looked at it.

Kahar had already cum thrice since then, violently, involuntarily, hands trembling, moaning so loudly he barely recognized his own voice. But Fakhri hadn’t stopped. He hadn’t even slowed down.

"Don’t look away," Fakhri murmured, reaching up to tilt Kahar’s chin again, forcing their eyes to meet. "You cum when I say, and you stop when I say."

"T-tak boleh, Ri– aku– aku tak boleh–!" Kahar choked out, voice wrecked from moaning and panting and begging. “F-Fakhri–”

"Shh…” Fakhri placed a single finger on Kahar's lips, then dragged it down, across his jaw, over his flushed throat, and down his chest until it reached the metal chain. He gave it another sharp tug and Kahar's breath hitched, head falling back in a broken cry.

He was so sensitive. Every part of him felt overexposed, frayed raw like open wires sparking with even the lightest touch. And yet… he couldn’t stop. His cock twitched again, a pathetic sound leaving him as his hips gave another desperate grind against nothing, searching for friction, stimulation, anything.

Fakhri noticed.

"Still trying?" he said, amusement curling through his voice. "Didn’t even notice you were dry the last time, did you?"

Kahar’s lips parted, a soft whimper leaving him. He didn’t. He just knew the pressure had built so fast, his body chasing something it hadn’t been given permission for and he’d tipped right over into a dry orgasm. The feeling had been hollow, empty in the most painfully aching way.

Now, it was happening again.

Fakhri reached forward, thumb rubbing softly over the head of Kahar’s cock and that was all it took. Kahar came again, or tried to. His body seized, thighs flexing, back arching but nothing came out this time. Not even a drop. Just an intense shudder that left him gasping, mouth open wide, eyes screwed shut.

"Bagus," Fakhri whispered, leaning in to kiss just beneath his ear. "You’re starting to understand."

Kahar’s vision blurred with tears, not sadness, not even pain, but the overwhelming release of giving up. Of letting go. His breath was ragged, shoulders trembling as he leaned against Fakhri’s chest, unsure if he was allowed to rest.

But Fakhri didn’t let him collapse yet.

Instead, his hand pressed against Kahar’s stomach, easing him back until he was once again straddling the toy beneath him. Then, with a slow twist of his fingers, he increased the intensity of the vibrations.

Kahar screamed.

“No, no, Fakhri– please–!” His whole body bucked, nerves flaring white-hot. “Sumpah aku tak boleh dah–!”

"Aku tau kau boleh," Fakhri said, deadly calm, thumb rubbing slow circles against Kahar's hip. "You will. You’ll learn to love it. You already do."

His words sunk in like iron.

And Kahar… didn’t deny it. Couldn’t. He did love it. He loves the overwhelming heat, the pain that tipped into pleasure, the feeling of being undone so thoroughly, so completely, that he didn't know where he ended and where Fakhri began. It was terrifying. It was bliss.

Another dry orgasm wracked through him, this one weaker and more pitiful. His whole body shuddered violently, lips parting around a strangled moan. Nothing came. Only the aching, throbbing ghost of release.

And still, Fakhri didn’t stop.

Only when Kahar was slumped forward, tears slipping quietly down his cheeks, murmuring broken pleas into the air, did Fakhri finally reach out and switch the toy off.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Kahar collapsed into Fakhri’s arms, panting, shaking, his body utterly ruined. But Fakhri held him gently now, strong arms encircling him, voice low and quiet near his temple.

“Good boy,” he murmured, kissing his sweat-soaked hair. “You did so well.”

And Kahar melted into it, sobbing softly not from pain, but from the warm, devastating relief of surrender.

Kahar didn’t even have time to catch his breath before he was being moved again, strong hands beneath his thighs, lifting, shifting, folding him open. His muscles cried out from the exertion, his entire body a buzzing ache of overstimulation, but he didn’t fight it. Couldn’t. Not when his mind had already started floating, half-adrift and pliant in Fakhri’s grip.

The vibrator finally stilled inside him, and for a brief moment, Kahar thought he’d been given mercy.

Then he felt Fakhri’s cock press against his hole, which was already stretched wide around the girth of the toy, and he snapped back into clarity with a sharp gasp.

“R-Ri– j-jap– aku–” His voice cracked, hoarse and barely audible.

"Shh," Fakhri whispered, pressing his forehead to Kahar’s. “Sikit je lagi ni, cinta. You can take it. I know you can.”

Fakhri didn’t wait for permission.

His hips pushed forward, slow but firm, until Kahar’s body yielded. The sensation of being filled even more, the thick, live heat of Fakhri’s cock sliding in alongside the unmoving bulk of the dildo, was indescribable. The pressure was overwhelming, electric, a stretch so intense it felt like fire licking up his spine.

Kahar’s mouth dropped open in a silent moan, fingers clawing at the sheets as his back arched on instinct. It was too much, far too much, and yet the way his body clamped down betrayed him. His hole pulsed, sensitive and swollen, and his cock twitched between them with nothing left to give.

“F-Fakhri…” he sobbed, tears spilling anew, though whether it was from pain, pleasure, or just the sheer exhaustion of it all. he didn’t know.

“Good boy,” Fakhri groaned, his voice barely restrained. He pushed in fully, hips flush against Kahar’s trembling thighs. “So tight… still pulling me in. Even after all that.”

He moved slow at first, just shallow rolls of his hips, letting Kahar adjust, letting the weight of the double stretch settle in his bones. But that control didn’t last. The warmth, the tightness, the broken sounds Kahar made, all of it, stripped Fakhri of his restraint.

Soon, he was driving in with steady, snapping thrusts, each one jarring Kahar’s overstimulated body as moans turned to cries, to hiccuped whines, to incoherent pleading. Kahar’s legs wrapped weakly around Fakhri’s waist, trembling with every movement. He could barely think, barely breathe, his body giving in fully.

It didn’t take long. Fakhri came with a ragged growl, burying himself deep, and Kahar felt the heat flood him, his already bruised insides now filled with a second kind of pressure. The sensation broke something in him.

His body jerked in response, one final dry orgasm wracking through him, painful in its emptiness, in the way his muscles contracted as if trying to summon something he no longer had. It left him sobbing against Fakhri’s shoulder, too spent to even lift his arms.

And that was when Fakhri stilled.

The room, once filled with wet skin and breathy curses, fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the soft sound of Kahar crying, his cries quiet, broken, and honest.

Fakhri wrapped his arms around him, carefully easing out, slowly removing the toy and tossing it aside. Kahar whimpered at the emptiness, his body shivering from the aftershocks, but Fakhri held him closer.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, guiding Kahar onto his side, drawing the blankets up and over them. “You’re okay, cinta. I’ve got you.”

Kahar curled against him, burying his face into Fakhri’s chest, still trembling, still so raw he couldn’t form words. His body was a mess, slick with sweat and cum, thighs shaking, hole leaking warmth onto the sheets, nipples red and sore from the clamps that had been removed with gentle, practiced care.

Fakhri didn’t rush anything.

He kissed Kahar’s hair, his forehead, his damp cheek. He reached for the water bottle on the bedside table, coaxed him to sip, wiping away the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. He whispered soft things, grounding him, anchoring him with every word.

"You did so good for me, baby,"

Kahar couldn’t stop crying.

Not from sadness, and not even from pain. His body was simply wrung out, trembling from pleasure so sharp it blurred into ache, every nerve still flickering with aftershocks, his breaths shallow and hitched, chest fluttering like wings caught in a storm.

Fakhri held him. Gently. Steadily.

He lay beside him on the crumpled, soiled sheets, not caring about the mess, only focused on the trembling boy in his arms. Kahar curled into him like something fragile, his fingers twitching and trying to cling, body still recoiling in waves.

Fakhri pressed soft kisses to his forehead, his temple, his swollen lips. “Ikut aku bernafas, cinta,” he whispered, his voice velvet, so achingly soft that it didn’t seem to belong to the same man who’d taken him so ruthlessly moments ago.

Kahar obeyed, barely, hiccuping shallow breaths in sync with Fakhri’s deeper ones.

“That’s it. You did so well. You were perfect for me.”

He reached over and grabbed a small pack of wet wipes, and without letting go of Kahar completely, began cleaning him.

It wasn’t just a practical gesture, it was worship. Every motion was slow, tender, reverent. He wiped the tear tracks from Kahar’s cheeks, the sweat from his brow, and then gently cleaned between his thighs. Kahar whimpered from the oversensitivity, his legs twitching at the contact, but Fakhri kept whispering soothing things: “I’ve got you, cinta. It’s okay. Aku ada kat sini.”

He was gentle around the angry red of Kahar’s nipples, soft around his overstimulated hole, careful not to press too hard where he knew Kahar was sore. He kissed each cleaned patch of skin, murmuring little apologies, little praises. “So beautiful like this. So good for me. I’m lucky to have you.”

And when he finished, Fakhri wrapped him in a soft towel and tucked the blanket around his shoulders while he stood and headed to the bathroom.

Kahar didn’t even try to move. His limbs felt like jelly, every part of him humming with exhaustion, with fullness, with something deep and sacred that he couldn’t name.

Then he heard it. He heard the gentle gush of running water, the rush and swirl as something was poured into it. Fizzing followed. A scent wafted in through the door a few minutes later: lavender, rich and warm and earthy, undercut with vanilla and the soft shimmer of rose. There was something else, too — sugared sweetness, like honey steeped in milk.

When Fakhri returned, Kahar opened his eyes just barely. He looked like something divine. Shirtless, pants gone, his face soft and focused, a towel draped over one shoulder. “CMeh sini, manja,” he murmured, his arms sliding under Kahar with ease.

Kahar made a soft noise, something between a whimper and a plea. His body tried to resist the motion, too raw, too tired, but Fakhri just shushed him. “Let me carry you. You’ve done enough.”

And he did.

Kahar melted into him as Fakhri princess-carried him into the bathroom, the low lights casting everything in a warm golden glow. The bath was a dream, the water a soft, shimmering shade of glittering pink, steam curling upward, scented candles flickering along the sink and shelf. The bath bomb had turned the water milky and luminescent, little petals floating atop the surface, and the sound of a quiet instrumental track hummed in the background, grounding and calm.

Fakhri settled first, easing into the bath with a soft sigh, then slowly brought Kahar down with him, careful not to jostle or submerge him too quickly.

The moment Kahar’s skin hit the water, he gasped, his body shivering from the contrast. The warmth seeped into his bones like a balm, wrapping around the bruises, the aches, the deep-seated tension. Fakhri sat behind him, chest flush to Kahar’s back, arms looping around his waist, pulling him in like a weighted blanket.

Kahar slumped.

Every muscle in his body gave out at once. His head tilted back onto Fakhri’s shoulder, eyes fluttering closed, lips parted in a soft, dreamy sigh.

“There you go,” Fakhri whispered, nuzzling into his wet hair. “Just let go. I’ve got you now.”

He held Kahar that way for a long time—one hand stroking his chest gently, the other trailing along his thigh under the water, drawing lazy, grounding shapes. Every so often, he’d kiss the side of Kahar’s face, whisper things like “Kau selamat dengan aku” or “I’m so proud of you” or “You gave me everything… and I’ll give it all back to you.”

Kahar blinked up at him after a while, eyes glossy and pink, his voice hoarse. “Aku sayang kau, Ri.”

Fakhri didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. He smiled, his smile soft, radiant, and nothing short of being real.

“Aku pun sayang kau, Kahar,” he whispered, pressing a long kiss to his temple. “Every part of you. Every tear, every moan, every time you fall apart in my arms.”

He reached for a loofah and the lavender-scented body wash, lathering it between his palms before working it over Kahar’s skin. He washed him slowly, intimately, not as something to get done, but like an offering. He cradled each limb as he bathed it, washing behind his ears, down his back, between his fingers. Kahar barely reacted, too far gone into comfort, but he sighed every time Fakhri’s fingers stroked through his hair or smoothed across his chest.

And when the bath finally started to cool, Fakhri helped him out, dried him with warm towels pulled fresh from the dryer, massaged his thighs with calming balm, and dressed him in a soft oversized shirt.

Kahar, completely pliant, let himself be tucked back into bed.

Fakhri climbed in beside him, pulling the covers over them both, holding him close as if to make up for every second of distance during the intense play before.

The room was quiet again, but this silence was different.

Sated. Soft.

Safe.