#decided to clean it up and stuff :3

[floating-far-from-earth]

eepy

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[cyancherub]

rly not a fan of ppl imposing their idea of fun on me under the assumption that it's also my idea of fun

[orcelito]

LARPing as a productive and clean adult is Going Well! Cleaned and set up the cat food/water station, then cleaned their litter box (and even SWEPT afterwards!!!!). Also brought in all the new stuff, & the dishes r set aside for now, but i went and washed all the towels... and FOLDED them after!!! And for the kitchen towels I bought, i even set one out in the kitchen!!! Hung on the handle of the oven like a normal person!!!! I may even dry my hands after using the kitchen sink instead of just letting them drip dry or wiping them on my clothes!!!!!

Having in-unit laundry is helping a Ton honestly. While my previous apartment had the laundry room in-building and it was next to my unit so I didnt even have to walk far for it, I still had to worry about quarters and all that business. And about grabbing my clothes from the washer and dryer as soon as they were done. It was an entire Production every time. But now, I can just toss some shit in the wash and get to it when I get to it. Still don't want it to sit for more than a few hours at the most in the wash, but theres still wiggle room!! And i did a 2nd load for blankets, put them in the dryer... and now im in bed!! Blankets still in the dryer, bc it doesnt matter!!! I will fold them tomorrow and they can stay in there for now. And since I don't have to pay per cycle, if my clothes arent entirely dry after the cycle ends, I can just put them in for a little bit longer!!!! No longer have to fucking hang dry my clothes on my bathroom shower curtain rod the rest of the way!!! Dry clothes every time!!!!!!

It's freeing. It makes it a lot easier to Do Stuff. And it's really really nice.

[goldenflowers]

I made a relationship chart for Elenion! I tried to use the colors to show how his dynamics with some of the companions changed throughout the game, but then I also rambled way too much under the cut! I may have written multiple lengthy paragraphs for almost all of them lol oops. Also, tumblr somehow kept posting this damn thing out of my drafts while I was still trying to edit it even though I swear I never hit the post button, so this might not be the first time some of you are seeing it LMAO but this time I actually mean for it to post.

Astarion - Elenion is super intrigued by Astarion when they meet because he's so obviously a vampire and how many bards can say they have firsthand experience traveling with a vampire?! But as they travel together Astarion gets annoyed at Elenion for insisting on helping everyone and they get annoyed back at him for being such an asshole all the time sooo there's a lot of tension there! However Elenion does totally lean into Astarion's flirting because duh, of course he's going to flirt with a hot, charming vampire?? But they aren't willing to let him bite them, and they also pretty quickly realize his flirting isn't sincere—after which they keep sassily flirting back at him anyway to mess with him.

But, Elenion is also perceptive enough to realize eventually that somewhere deep, deep down under all of that bravado and manipulation there's a real person who's hurting and could use a friend. Even after they've stopped with the flirting (once Elenion realizes he's catching genuine feelings for Gale), Elenion and Astarion still keep snarking at each other and trading playful jabs. Their dynamic becomes a friendly rivalry where Elenion challenges Astarion, calls him out on his shit, and forces him to grow a conscience, which is just what Astarion needs. Astarion also helps encourage Elenion to live for himself instead of giving a shit about what anyone else expects of him. So yeah, they end up forming an actual close friendship and in act 3 they annoy the rest of the party to death by spending way too much time in every clothing store in the lower city.

Gale - Gale is Elenion's best friend, his partner, and the love of his life. They clicked the second Gale mentioned that he has a cat and a library and writes poetry. They also both recognize each other immediately when they meet—Elenion hears his name and realizes they've just pulled archmage Gale of Waterdeep out of a portal, and Gale recognizes them as the incredible bard he's seen perform in Waterdeep who would always slip away from the crowd before he could attempt to speak to them. And really, that scares Elenion a little because the others not knowing who he is was actually kind of a relief. But he quickly notices that Gale… doesn't treat him like a mysterious, untouchable celebrity. He treats Elenion like a friend, like someone worthy of sharing poetry, magic, academic theories, and deep secrets with. And that means everything to them… which unfortunately also scares them. Because flirting is one thing but now they're actually falling for Gale and they don't know if a serious relationship is something they want.

He figures things out before much longer, though! The two of them come to realize that they understand each other like nobody else ever has, and through their relationship they each show each other that they're good enough to be loved as they are. And they're absolutely ridiculous about it with the way they'll stay up into ungodly hours of the night just. Yapping. Talking about anything and everything, having serious debates about the most ridiculous-sounding topics and reciting sappy poems at each other while the rest of the camp is begging these nerds to shut up and go to sleep. I have a lot of post-game thoughts about them but most important is that they're married, Gale is a professor, and Elenion quit touring and converted a house he owned in Waterdeep into a museum that he now runs (and finds ways to still incorporate his love of playing music and telling stories into) and which frequently collaborates with Blackstaff Academy. Elenion also still performs in the various taverns in Waterdeep from time to time, and the patrons are about to get very tired of all their not-so-subtle song lyrics about being in love with a hot wizard.

Halsin - Elenion isn't quite sure what to expect from Halsin at first, hearing how great he is from all the people in the grove—will the party really be able to trust him, once they find him? But when they do finally meet him Elenion finds that Halsin is kind, brave, and incredibly knowledgeable. Elenion respects Halsin a lot, they just wish he would've actually joined in on the tiefling party instead of standing in the corner! But over time they come to see Halsin as a calming presence, and someone who's been through a lot and has the stories to show it. He can definitely relate to Halsin's desire to just be himself and be free from the pressures of leading the grove. And he loves seeing the wooden carvings Halsin makes!

Jaheira - Karlach when meeting Jaheira: "OH MY GOD SOLDIER THAT'S JAHEIRA, THE JAHEIRA!!"

Elenion, externally: "Ah, yes, so it is! A name I've sung more times than I can count. Truly an honor."

Elenion internally: OH MY GOD THAT'S THE JAHEIRA!! Gods I had better make sure not to say anything stupid, it'd be just like me to mess everything up and make a complete fool of myself in front of her—

Yeahhh Elenion might admire Jaheira just a little but it's no big deal! They do not blame her for being jaded and wary of the party at first. Honestly, they completely get it because they'd probably be the same way in her shoes. She does not care at all about fame and prestige, which he really appreciates. And she's a grounding presence and he puts a lot of trust in her advice, wishing she could've joined the party sooner so he'd have more time to talk to her.

Karlach - Elenion is like, very scared of fire which is a bit of a problem at first because Karlach definitely notices the way they keep trying not to flinch when she walks by… But after the two of them talk that out and he accepts that just being near her isn't going to hurt anyone, he comes to really love her. They find her brash, boisterous energy a little overwhelming sometimes, but they love how much she still loves life in spite of everything she's been through. And they love that she's so open and honest, fearless in how she cares for others, and unapologetically herself. It's refreshing to him, inspiring even, because most people aren't like that—gods know he's definitely not like that and he wishes he could be. Once Karlach is finally able to touch people again Elenion finds out that she gives great hugs. On the other hand, though, she also has a habit of affectionately slapping him on the back so hard he almost drops his lute every single time.

Elenion is utterly heartbroken over not being able to do anything to save Karlach. It makes him feel useless and frustrated. He cries for her fate more than once—how unfair it is, that someone like her could be burned up by the world when all she ever wanted to do was live in it. But ultimately she ends up going back to Avernus, and when he hears about the forge during the epilogue he offers to help her in any way he can. After Karlach comes back to Faerun she visits Gale and Elenion all the time and keeps giving Elenion weird trinkets she found that she thinks they should put in their museum.

Lae'zel - Elenion's reaction to meeting Lae'zel is essentially "holy shit a githyanki?? who wants to ally with me and not brutally murder me?? this is awesome!" but then there's not. Exactly any time to try asking her questions about her culture and language while trying to escape from the nautiloid. And when she properly joins the party she's SO arrogant and pushy and mean and SO damn annoying and he hates her so much and she seems to hate him right back, but if she says her people will cure the party of their parasites then who is he to say she's wrong? Elenion respects her, if only begrudgingly, and they take her to the creche. Where they witness firsthand the way that githyanki children are indoctrinated into a cruel, militaristic world, and they realize that that's all Lae'zel has ever known. When she's branded a traitor by Vlaakith, he worries for her. Tries to let her know that he's there if she ever wants to talk. And in turn, she eventually tells him to quit hiding his feelings behind lies like a coward and just spit it out if something is wrong. So Elenion starts coming to her if they need to clear their head. She's someone they can spar with for a distraction, or chat with about their respective cultures and upbringings, or just... quietly exist next to, journaling or working on a song while she trains.

These two seem like the weirdest pair of besties but post-game they're SO close. When Orpheus told Lae'zel to come with him all Elenion could think was that he understands she loves her people but gods, shouldn't she get to just live for herself for once? To write her own story? He doesn't want her to go. He wants to help teach her to love Faerun as much as he does. So he convinces her to stay. And when she's not busy with other duties she visits Waterdeep frequently, sometimes bringing him Githyanki slates and relics for his museum, and Elenion always drags her along to be his shopping buddy.

Shadowheart - Shadowheart frustrates Elenion immensely, not just because she's prickly and rude but also because she's so closed off. Always dodging personal questions, clearly hurting but refusing to trust anyone, and... he understands that far too well and he hates it. The fact that he worships Selûne and she's a Sharran is also an obvious issue, especially because like, when Shadowheart reveals her past to Elenion it becomes painfully clear to them that she was a Selûnite who was kidnapped and brought into a cult and they just. They don't have any idea how to deal with that, how to help her break free from it. If they even can. Early on they try to be patient with her and not push her too hard but they also can't help playfully flirting with her a little, partly to see how she reacts but also because she's hot and mysterious.

The two of them definitely become closer once she rejects Shar, and seeing her tearfully reunite with her parents after so many decades apart makes him realize he should probably work up the nerve to visit his own mother, who he hasn't seen in years after distancing himself out of guilt toward his father's death. Shadowheart gently encourages him to do so and she's one of the companions who goes with him to support him after the final battle, when he can be sure that Gortash or Orin won't hurt his mother. He and Gale visit her at her family's cottage whenever they can, they send each other frequent letters, and he delights in all of the awful puns she shares.

Wyll - These two click immediately. Elenion genuinely thinks that Wyll swooping in and shouting "provoke the blade, and suffer its sting!" before slicing through a goblin is the coolest thing ever, and also—holy shit the Blade of Frontiers?? He has so many questions. He's already looking forward to writing about traveling with the Blade if he survives all this. And the more they get to know each other, Elenion realizes that Wyll isn't just a badass hero, he's also warm and gentle, artistic and poetic, and really funny. He's a warrior with the heart of a bard. Elenion flirts with him a bit early on but their relationship ultimately stays platonic.

Elenion hides their last name from the group at first (though most of them wouldn't recognize it anyway or wouldn't even care if they did), so even though Wyll knows of Elenion and has seen him perform before, he doesn't realize who they are. And they don't recognize him as Grand Duke's son. When these secrets come out, they connect over their struggles with their fathers' grand legacies and the expectations that have been placed on them, as well as the fact that Wyll was uncomfortable with noble life and Elenion is secretly uncomfortable with fame. They kind of have a mutual admiration for one another and they hype each other up and go to each other for advice a lot. So yeah basically they're besties!! At camp they swap stories about their lives, the places they've been and the things they've learned on their travels, bond over their mutual love of good art and good wine, and treat sparring like it's stage choreography. They stay the best of friends post-game and Elenion writes multiple songs about the brave heart and kind soul of Wyll Ravengard.

[theintelligentfool]

i enjoyed high school! i had a lot of friends! some of them were even close! but holy SHIT . i can say, with full confidence now. HIGH SCHOOL SUCKS SHIT and im GLAD I DON'T GO THERE!!!

[assumedcryptid]

eep!

[snapscube]

Can you please elaborate on the original FFXIV getting blown up?

yeah so, in summary, when FF14 was first released it was helmed by an entirely different team of producers who were very much not interested in learning from developments in the MMO genre up to that point and kinda created a mess of a game. it wasn’t really due to one thing in particular that the game failed though, the entire production was highly mismanaged. people knew in beta that it was going to be a mess but they pushed it out anyway and it was a major flop critically and a big hit to square’s reputation. the producers were then removed from the project and another producer named Naoki Yoshida who had a lot of experience working on the Dragon Quest MMO was brought on to replace them and hopefully improve the state of the game.

when realizing just how fucked FF14 1.0 was at the time, yoshida gave square a bit of a hail mary option and was like “we can improve this game, but it will never be great in this form. let me continue making updates to the game… while also in the background secretly rebuild the entire game almost from scratch”. fucking miraculously square was like “yeah sure” and actually gave that idea the greenlight, with a 2-year window to release.

so that became the plan. improve the game in incremental amounts for players currently sticking with it, and then wipe the whole slate clean and release a FF14 2.0 that was a fundamentally remade experience, actually taking more design inspiration from other successful MMOs and other final fantasy games. they didn’t just decide to wipe the original game on a meta level though, they actually worked the destruction of FF14 1.0 into the plot of both games. and so, famously, the day that the servers for 1.0 were shut down was a day where IN GAME players fought a horde of deadly monsters spawning around the world until inevitably a giant moon crashed into the world and took the servers offline for good. and then when you play 2.0, they frequently reference this calamity in the early MSQ and players who stuck with 1.0 until the end actually got their entire character transferred over with a special tattoo, opening cutscenes, and special dialogue throughout the MSQ that connects them to the game that was deleted.

there’s a 3-part noclip documentary that goes into more detail, it is FASCINATING stuff.

[xjulixred45x]

Imagine an adult Yuu who arrived at Twisted Wonderland PREGNANT.

This could be considered part of the Yuu! Parent variables (?). Perhaps the poor woman was returning from an early ultrasound (at 2 or 3 months old) when the black carriage hit her, scaring her to death upon her appearance in TWST. She must have thought she was about to be sacrificed to a cult.

I can definitely imagine the Squad characters being much more understanding/soft of this Yuu, especially Ace and Deuce. Ace wouldn't be so malicious at the beginning of the game (I'd like to believe that not even he would be capable of laughing in the face of a pregnant woman), and instead feels obvious guilt because Crowley has entrusted her with a mediocre job.

Deuce, my sweet boy, will set off all his alarm bells. He's the most outraged that the headmaster is forcing a pregnant woman to work ALONE, and if his dorm leader hadn't been so strict in the beginning, he definitely wouldn't let Yuu sleep in a dorm that's falling apart. Has Crowley gone crazy? Does he have no shred of decency?!

Grim probably thought at first that Yuu had eaten her baby, haha, and had to receive the wonderful "birds and the bees" lecture (much to Ace's amusement at Grim's horrified reactions). Let's just say Grim now insists on standing sentry in case Yuu decides to do anything too "dangerous for the baby" (humans are fragile even with magic; he has to take care of his minion!).

Jack, bless him, also tries to help make the ramshackle dorm safer alongside Epel, whether by removing the most rotten parts of the structure, helping clean, assisting with Yuu's errands, etc. Especially when she starts showing more of her bump.

GOD, IMAGINE THE DORM LEADERS!

Riddle was probably the only one who didn't realize Yuu was pregnant until the events of the Savanaclaw episode. And when he found out he almost seriously hurt a PREGNANT WOMAN? Trey and Cater practically had to keep him from banging his head against a wall for half an hour out of embarrassment and shame. He also drafted a LONG apology for Yuu, which was delivered with a giant strawberry cake (and one of those exaggerated bows I KNOW Riddle would do).

Thanks to his mom (for once in his life), Riddle is the most knowledgeable about useful pregnancy stuff! Whenever Yuu goes to Heartslabyul, she has access to calcium- and iron-rich meals (prepared by Trey), and teas that boost her immune system and combat morning sickness. Riddle is careful not to give her things like black tea or rosemary tea, knowing they could have negative effects (if it were up to Riddle, Yuu probably wouldn't walk unaided).

Leona is much more respectful to a female Yuu, we know that, but I don't think he has the energy to be rude, or be especially , well, Leona, to a PREGNANT woman. This ends up bringing out a side of Leona no one thought existed: an almost delicate side. Sure, he's still lazy and sarcastic, but he doesn't say no to Yuu when she asks for help with something, whether it's bringing something to her dorm or dealing with a difficult situation. he dosent even COMPLAIN. what did he do to the real Leona??

We all know Crowley doesn't give Yuu and Grim enough money to live comfortably, let alone considering they could soon have a new member on ramshakle. Yuu is now surprised to find extra money in the dorm after certain visits. Not that he'll admit it, but it makes everyone feel more at ease.

Again, I want to believe Azul wouldn't be capable of leaving a pregnant woman homeless, at the very least he offered her a place to stay in Octavinelle. It turns out the twins (especially Floyd) quickly took a liking to Yuu.

A cute scenario I came up with, when Yuu already has a prominent baby bump, is that she tries to joke with the Leechs that the nickname "shrimpy" doesn't suit her anymore, and that maybe they should change it to "whaley."

AND FLOYD IS LIKE, "Why are you saying that, Koebi-chan? :( Is someone calling you that? Come on, tell me :)"

I think the Octavinelle folks genuinely don't know how human pregnancy works, so they're surprisingly gentle and caring with Yuu (even when the baby is born, I can see Monster Lounge having a kids' menu for them).

Kalim, my god, Jamil is going to have to stop him from giving Yuu a completely equipped nursery for both her and the baby. Ironically, the one who's the most normal about pregnancy (the guy has 30 younger siblings, so he KNOWS about these things) and genuinely knows some home tricks that helped his mother when she was pregnant.

offers to organize a baby shower/gender reveal party! The bad thing is that it ends up being a whole festival with all of Scarabia participating. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

There's no way Yuu, who's already 6-7 months along, will wear the school uniform simply for comfort, so if you need help finding comfortable AND cute clothes, Vil will gladly help! Obviously, he's not as strict or harsh with Yuu due to the circumstances, but he still wants the best for her. Who knows, maybe they can pick out some clothes for the baby in advance.

Idia is afraid to get close to Yuu, not only because of social anxiety, but because of the thought that he might "ruin" the baby in some way. He needs a lot of support from Ortho and Yuu to even allow himself to have normal physical contact with Yuu, and just as he does, the baby kicks. Idia's heart is gone (everyone wants to feel the kicks now, especially Ace, Floyd, and Malleus).

They probably use some STYX or Ortho equipment for some of the baby checks, and he even gives an approximate due date, which feels bittersweet. Even if everyone does their best, Yuu still hoped to have his baby at home, but he doesn't complain when the boys do all this for them. It feels like Home.

Malleus is another who doesn't fully understand human pregnancy and is incredibly intrigued. It doesn't help that Lilia's answers to his questions are even more confusing, so he ends up going straight to the source of his intrigue, Yuu. Malleus is completely mesmerized the first time he hears the baby's heartbeat, completely fascinated by what human life is like compared to fairies/dragons.

That said, he proceeds to "scold" the baby when it kicks Yuu for "hurting its mother," not quite understanding the concept, but he has the spirit. Malleus is very scared of the idea of childbirth once he's educated on it (WHERE will the baby come out? HOW!?) and will probably try to improve his healing magic SOLELY because of that.

All I can say is that if the baby is born in Twisted Wonderland, they'll have a wide array of adoptive siblings, father figures, babysitters, and weird and eccentric uncles who will take very good care of them and its mother. So you can rest easy.

__________

(ESPAÑOL)

Imagínate una Yuu adulta que llego a Twisted Wonderland estando EMBARAZADA

Esto podría considerarse parte de las variables de Yuu! Parent(?)Talvez la pobre mujer estaba regresando de un ultrasonido de los primeros meses (2 o 3 meses) cuando el carruaje negro le paso por encima, dándole un susto de muerte cuando apareció en TWST. La pobre mujer debio pensar que estaba a punto de ser sacrificada a un culto.

Definitivamente puedo ver a los personajes del Squad mucho mas suaves con esta Yuu, especialmente Ace y Deuce. Ace no sería tan malicioso al principio del juego (digo, quiero creer que incluso el no seria capaz de reírse en la cara de una mujer embarazada) y más bien siente una obvia lastima de que Crowley le haya metido en un trabajo mediocre.

Deuce, mi dulce niño, le disparan todas las alarmas. Es el más obviamente indignado de que el director haga trabajar a una mujer embarazada SOLA, y definitivamente si su líder de dormitorio no fuera tan estricto al principio, no dejaría que Yuu durmiera en un dormitorio que se cae a pedazos ¿¡que acaso Crowley perdió la cabeza, no tiene el mínimo de decencia?!

Grim probablemente al principio pensó que Yuu se había comido a su bebe lol, y le tuvieron que dar la maravillosa charla de las “aves y las abejas” (para diversión de Ace por las reacciones horrorizadas de Grim). Solo digamos que ahora Grim insiste en actuar como centinela en caso de que Yuu se le ocurra hacer algo demasiado “peligroso para él bebe” (los humanos son frágiles aun si magia ¡tiene que cuidar a su secuaz!).

Jack, bendito sea, también trata de ayudar en hacer el dormitorio destartalado mas seguro junto a Epel, ya sea quitando las partes mas podridas de la estructura, ayudando a limpiar, ayudar con los mandados de Yuu, etc. Especialmente cuando empieza a mostrar mas la panza de embarazada.

DIOS, IMAGINENSE LOS LIDERES DE DORMITORIO.

Riddle probablemente fue el único que no llego a darse cuenta que Yuu estaba embarazada hasta los eventos del capítulo de Savanaclaw ¿y cuando se enteró que casi lastimo gravemente a una MUJER EMBARAZADA? Trey y Cater tuvieron que físicamente detenerlo de que se golpeara la cabeza contra la pared por media hora por la vergüenza, también redacto un documento LARGUISIMO de disculpa a Yuu, que fue entregado con una gran tarta de fresa (y una de esas reverencias exageradas que SE que Riddle haría).

¡Gracias a su madre (por una vez en la vida), Riddle es el que sabe más de cosas útiles para el embarazo! Cada vez que Yuu va Heartslabyul, tienen acceso a comidas nutritivas en calcio y hierro (hechas por Trey), Tés beneficiosos para el sistema inmune y para combatir las náuseas matutinas, aparte de que Riddle es cuidadoso de no dar cosas como Te negro o romero, sabiendo que podrían tener malos efectos (si fuera por Riddle, Yuu probablemente no caminaría sin ayuda).

Leona es bastante más respetuoso con una Yuu mujer, eso lo sabemos, pero no creo que tenga la energía para ser grosero o especialmente, bueno, Leona, con una mujer EMBARAZADA. Esto termina sacando un lado que nadie creía que existía de Leona, un lado casi delicado. Claro, sigue siendo perezoso y sarcástico, pero no le dice que no a Yuu cuando le pide ayuda en algo, ya sea llevar algo a su dormitorio o con una situación difícil.

Todos sabemos que Crowley no da ni de lejos el dinero suficiente para que Yuu y Grim vivan bien, mucho menos pensando que PODRIAN TENER UN NUEVO INTEGRANTE PRONTO, por lo que Yuu ahora se sorprende después de ciertas visitas, aparece algo de dinero extra en el dormitorio. No es como que lo vaya a admitir, pero todos están más tranquilos de esa forma.

De nuevo, quiero creer que Azul no sería capaz de dejar sin hogar a una mujer embarazada, aunque sea le ofrecería una estancia en Octaville, ya que, además, resulta que los gemelos (especialmente Floyd) se encariñaron con Yuu muy rápido.

Un escenario lindo que se me ocurrió, ya cuando Yuu tiene una panza de embarazada prominente, es que ella trata de bromear con los Leech de que el apodo “camarón” ya no le queda bien, y que a lo mejor tendrían que cambiarlo a “ballena”

Y FLOYD ESTA COMO “¿Por qué dices eso Koebi-chan?  ¿alguien te está diciendo asi? Vaaaamos, dímelo ”

Creo que genuinamente los de Octaville no saben muy bien cómo funciona el embarazo terrestre, por lo que son sorprendentemente gentiles y cuidadosos con Yuu (incluso cuando nace el bebe, puedo ver el Monstre Louge teniendo un menú infantil para ellos).

Kalim, dios mio, Jamil tendrá que detenerlo de regalarle a Yuu absolutamente toda una guardería completamente equipada tanto para ella como para el bebe. Irónicamente el que es el mas normal al respecto del embarazo (el man tiene 30 hermanos menores, el SABE de estas cosas) y genuinamente sabe algunos trucos caseros que le sirvieron a su madre cuando ella estaba embarazada.

¡ofrece organizar un baby shower/ fiesta de revelación de genero! Lo malo es que termina siendo todo un festival en el que participa todo Scarabia. Pero hey, la intención es lo que cuenta.

No hay forma en la que estando ya en los 6-7 meses Yuu use el uniforme de la escuela por simple cuestión de comodidad, por lo que si necesitan ayuda en encontrar ropa cómoda Y bonita ¡Vil le ayudara con gusto! Obviamente no es tan estricto ni duro con Yuu debido a las circunstancias, pero sigue queriendo lo mejor para ella. Quien sabe, talvez puedan elegir algo de ropa para él bebe de adelantado.

Idia tiene miedo de acercarse a Yuu, no solo por la ansiedad social, sino por la idea de que podría “arruinar” al bebe de alguna forma. Necesita mucho apoyo de Ortho y Yuu para siquiera permitirse tener contacto físico con Yuu de forma normal, y justo cuando lo hace, el bebe patea. A Iidia se le salió el alma del cuerpo (ahora todos quieren sentir las pataditas, sobretodo Ace, Floyd y Malleus).

Probablemente usan algo de equipo de STYX o Ortho para algunos controles del bebe, incluso el da una fecha aproximada de nacimiento, lo cual da una sensación agridulce. Aun si todos hacen su mejor esfuerzo, Yuu esperaba poder tener a su bebe en casa, pero no se queja cuando los chicos hacen todo esto por ellos.

Malleus es otro que no entiende el embarazo humano completamente y esta increíblemente intrigado, no ayuda que as respuestas de Lilia a sus preguntas son aún más confusas, por lo que termina lleno a la fuente de su intriga, Yuu. Malleus se queda completamente hipnotizado la primera vez que escucha los latidos del bebe, totalmente fascinado por cómo es la vida humana en comparación a las hadas/dragones.

Eso sí, procede a “reprender” al bebe cuando patea a Yuu por “lastimar a su madre”, no entendiendo bien el concepto, pero tiene el espíritu. A Malleus le asusta mucho la idea del parto una vez que se educa al respecto (¿Qué el bebe saldrá DE DONDE? ¡¿COMO!?) y probablemente trate de mejorar en magia curativa UNICAMENTE por eso.

Solo puedo decir que si el bebe nace en Twisted Wonderland, tendrá un vasto abanico de hermanos adoptivos, figuras paternas, niñeros, tíos raros y extravagantes que lo cuidaran muy bien a él y su madre. Así que pueden estar tranquilos.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[cream-stew]

How about monsterfcking with Neuvillette? Him in his dragon form pounding and breeding reader's pussy until his cum leaks out and when Neuvillette saw his cum leaking out he tries to push it back in using his thick fingers but it just won't stay inside, a lot of his cum wasted so he fucked Reader full again with a new batch of cum and cockwarmed him after their down<3

(What if after they have sex, Neuvillette carries Reader to the bathroom to clean both of them and Neuvillette still inside of Reader but ended up fucking when Neuvillette and Reader are inside of the bathtub)

Sorry if my grammar is wrong! English is my third language hehe and I'm still learning

🔞minors dni

warnings: afab reader, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, tummy bulge, size kink, mosterfucking

// note: no worries anon I could understand perfectly <3 thank you for the request this was fun

he's bigger than you even in his more human form, but like this, arms and legs covered in light blue scales, thick horns crowning his head, he's just. huge. straight up huge. he has you in a mating press and your face can barely reach his pecs, your legs can't even hook on his shoulders, they're ramrod straight as he grips your ankles in his big hands.

his cock is a really tight fit too... your pussy is stretched to the limit as he pounds into you, leaving you gaping each time he pulls out before slamming back inside with full force. now you can really understand why he decided to fuck you on the floor this time, putting down soft blankets and pillows so that you'd still be comfortable, but simply refusing to do it on the bed: he would have destroyed it in minutes, his strength and stamina in his half dragon form is insane!

when he finally cums inside you, when you're well on your way to a fourth orgasm, you think maybe he'll calm down a little but nope... he just changes tactics, never pulling out completely again, bc he doesn't want his cum to leak out of you :(

he keeps fucking you with really shallow thrusts, just as fast as he did previously, praising and encouraging you to just hold on for "a little longer" bc he needs to cum again, to claim you fully and stuff your cute little pussy to the brim :(

your eyes are tearing up a lil by then, but it feels so good that you can't find it in you to complain... so you let him pump you full one, twice more, until you hear him grumble and mutter something under his breath, until his huge fingers replace his monstrous cock, trying to fuck the cum back inside you. "what a waste" he complains. in his lustful haze he doesn't understand that your pussy is way too small to hold on to all that cum, so the only solution he can find is to fuck you again...

except this time, after pounding into you so so roughly, making you squirt on his cock for who knows how many times, he doesn't pull out after cumming... he just makes you cockwarm him, thinking that there's no way it'll leak out if he keeps your pussy sealed off like that!

it's hours before he allows you to move, but he still doesn't let you go, carrying you to the bathroom with his rock hard cock still buried snugly against your cervix, an evident bulge in your tummy. he summons enough warm water to fill the tub before lowering the both of you inside, effectively making you straddle his hips as the new position allows his cock to reach even deeper inside your womb.

it'd be relaxing, the warm water soothing your sore muscles, if he didn't grab you by the hips to move you back and forth on his cock :/ he uses you like a fleshlight, bouncing you up and down and jerking off inside your pussy as you desperately clutch to his shoulders, moaning and babbling, and when he doesn't stop even after cumming one more time inside, you just accept that you're going to fall asleep in his arms, and he's probably going to keep fucking you through it until you wake up in the morning🥺🥺

[pedgito]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Tommy Miller x reader x Joel Miller

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summary | You need something to ease the pain, but Joel and Tommy aren't very generous.

author's note | this isn't for everyone, please read the tags. i'm already working for a follow-up on this, but if you decide to read this - thank you!! <3 also ily and thank you for the betas @gracieheartspedro @amanitacowboy

content warning | DDDNE — noncon & dubcon, there's not defined consent, reader is both drugged and has a head injury that is blurring the lines of reality, early outbreak days, dark!tommy, dark!joel, unprotected piv, restraints, degrading, deepthroating, creampies, this is literally them fighting over a shiny new toy, joel spitting on reader, marking/claiming, very little aftercare. this is dark fic, don't engage if you don't like.

word count — 5.3k

You had struck gold.

On, well, drugs.

There was the saying—only the strongest will survive. But, you’ve seen a clicker take down a man double its size without an ounce of struggle.

Then again, they were literal killing machines.

You’ve learned that sanity is what has kept you alive.

And lately, yours had been slipping.

It was the anxiety, the lack of food and water, the seventh group you’ve filtered into torn to bits overnight and because you were so weary – always sleeping above ground level and never really letting yourself succumb to deep sleep – had managed to slip away in the knick of time.

Regardless, you needed the drugs.

You’ve been on the run for two weeks, completely alone, raiding every hospital and pharmacy you’ve come across with no luck, all wiped clean.

Sometimes, the anxiety made your chest hurt — blood pumping into your ears so loud you couldn’t hear anything else, too aware of the functions within your own body.

It has gotten explicitly worse the past couple days and when you finally find some luck, therein follows the immediate feeling that it was too good to be true.

There was a catch.

This was a trap.

Well, fuck it.

What did you have to lose anyways?

You’ve been in this dilapidated house before, months ago when you were passing through with another group. So, when you find the bags, you’re wondering if this was just a mistake.

Someone had left these behind, surely.

There wasn’t anyone in the nearest vicinity, not a speckle of life anywhere to be found.

So, you dig.

There’s a treasure trove of bottles all half full or almost empty, scanning through the names until you find something worth taking.

Diazepam.

It could work, it would work.

By the looks of it, there’s only ten pills left and if you used them sparingly enough, you could stretch it out for a couple months, long enough to continue your search.

The end goal was always civilization, hopeful that you could stumble upon a well-established group that would be kind enough to take you in. 

Though, the outlook was grim.

You stuff the bottles of pills into your coat pocket and continue to dig, unsure why you’re feeling so greedy. Some of the labels are ripped and unintelligible, some of the bottles simply don’t pique your interest, crouched on the floor and burrowing through someone else's belongings like a rat.

You’re so focused that you don’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late.

“Don’t move.”

The voice is sharp, cuts through the silence like a knife and you freeze, hunched over and caught red-handed.

“Turn around slowly.”

You comply, unwinding yourself carefully, heart pounding in your chest.

There’s one man standing in the doorway, another a few steps ahead. 

They share a similar build and face, undoubtedly related. 

You raise your hands to show no threat, hands shaking slightly. “I’m just passing through,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”

The closer man takes a step forward, but the gun doesn’t waver. “You with anyone?”

“No.” You hate how weak you sound, “No—just….just me,”

Dumbass. You should have lied.

Your hands are shaking noticeably and you’re not sure if it’s from fear or adrenaline or relief that you’ve scored something.

It doesn’t matter. 

“Empty your pockets,” his voice is indescribable, but demanding, eyes lingering briefly to the quieter man behind him that lingered like a shadow, as you hesitate, the gun clicks, “I’m not askin’.”

“I didn’t—take,” you panic, licking nervously at your lips, “I—you don’t understand,” you know they can hear the shuffle of the half-empty pillow bottle in your coat pocket, clear as day, “please don’t kill me, god—”

The idea seemed more intriguing now than it ever has.

The two men share a look, clearly one they have passed along a million times before.

“Turn around,” the man demands, “keep your hands up,”

You follow instructions with minor hesitancy, hearing the footsteps grow closer before the hands spread around your waist and up your ribs and you catch the gentle woosh of longer hair against your cheek that ultimately belonged to the other man.

You’re not sure whyor where the courage takes hold – it was stupid, outnumbered and unskilled when it came to combat, you were fighting a losing battle.

Your elbow swings back into the other man’s ribs and he grunts, roughly grabbing you by the back of your neck before shoving you at the one wielding the revolver, “Screw this, I’ll just fuckin’ shoot ‘er,” the voice belonging to the one with the menacing scowl and hard gaze.

“Joel, slow your goddamn roll,” it was a tidbit of information that he shouldn’t have let slip, feeling the hand at your bicep as it twisted behind your back tightly, gasping at the sharp sting of pain.

“Kill first, take later,” Joel reminds the other man, “we’ve been over this, Tommy.”

Joel. Tommy.

Brothers, clearly.

The outbreak was still fresh in hindsight, only two years since the attacks on the city started. It was clear that some people thrived in environments like this, feeding off violence to achieve their goal.

You’d stumbled into the wrong hands, all of your luck having officially ran out.

You’re not sure why they decide to spare you, but they do.

Time passes — seconds that feel like hours, before the butt of a gun is making contact with the side of your head. 

You’re out like a light, meeting the floor with an unkind thump that splits open the skin near your temple, blood pooling around the wound and along the dilapidated hardwood.

“She’s your responsibility,” Joel tells his brother, shoving the gun into his chest, “take care of it.”

—

There was no expectation of waking until it happened.

Everything felt fuzzy, light, more welcoming than you expected. You could feel the cool sheets under your skin, a hastily applied bandage to your head, but your hands were bound.

There was an uneasy feeling to the picture painted before you, the usual diluted blues and green and greys of the apocalypse replaced with something warm.

You moan slightly, shifting as you blink to collect yourself, immediately faced with one of the men from earlier with a different kind of concern etched on his face. 

As far as you could tell, he was alone.

And much more docile.

“Oh, woah, little lady,” he says, all charm in his thick southern twang, “you took quite a spill earlier.”

You moan again, this time in response, “You—he…hit me.”

“Joel? Yeah, he ain’t much of a people person,” Tommy explains, “he left for a bit, though. I patched ‘ya up, gave you some meds to help with the pain,”

He notices your gaze drifting, like it was too hard to keep focus despite your valiant effort. 

You nod in compliance.

You can feel the hand that settles between your thighs, a soft caress as Tommy checks gingerly at your wound, the press of his fingers digging into the supple flesh at the inside of your leg.

“I think you’ll be right as rain, probably best to keep you here for a couple days until we can let you go,” he admits, “seems a little negligent and unfair to force you outside to deal with infected in your condition.”

Tommy liked his trinkets, though.

Sweet, shiny things that peaked his interest.

There’s a softness to your features that has been long lost on many, just the subtle glint of weakness he needs.

“I’m so sleepy,” you slur tiredly, groaning softly as you turn to your side, feeling the hand shift from between your legs to graze up the curve of your ass and against your back.

It was a nice touch, comforting — warm, safe. 

No part of you can recognize who the hand belongs to, not in this state of mind, the room swirling with faint orange from the setting sun — was it a bedroom? 

Living room? 

Or, it was a dream. The afterlife, even.

Maybe you had died and this was the sick way your body was deciding to cope, cared for by your captors.

But, nothing about Tommy outwardly screamed danger.

Not like the way Joel's bared teeth, scruffy beard and stench of blood had. 

No, Tommy was sanitary, preened and clean; a wolf dressed up in sheep’s clothing. 

You can’t muster the care to worry about this now.

“Get some rest, darlin’,” he encourages, the touch moving to your hair now, curling the strands around his fingers gently.

You give into the medicine slowly creeping through your veins. Sleep overtakes you with little resistance. There is only darkness for a while, the absence of thought or feeling, until there’s the strange sensation you are being moved and manhandled. 

Your limp body in someone’s arms, then in their lap, against their chest before you’re pressed into the mattress again but on your stomach, head carefully angled to avoid injury or irritation. Not that it mattered, your entire body was numb now.

It is a new kind of warmth that blankets you.

You can distantly hear a voice before you slip back into unconsciousness.

“... sweet little thing,” he says.

The passage of time feels endless.

The weight in the bed beside you comes and goes, the room filtering between light and dark, unsure how many days have passed. Occasionally you wake to drink water or take a few sparing bites of food, just enough to placate your angry stomach as you’re continuously fed meds to remain complacent.

It isn’t that you mind—you don’t. It was the best care you’ve had in months.

Actually, you don't ever remember being cared for like this.

There’s only ever one set of footsteps, no voices aside from one, and the constant looming feeling that he was around. You weren’t unsettled by it, rather comforted. 

Tommy was being unbelievably kind despite your actions—he could have killed you outright, but instead, he was caring for you. You weren’t sure if his brother would be delighted at the idea, but he wasn’t here right now.

You can hear the faint chirp of crickets and a room blanketed in blue when the bed dips under the weight of someone sitting down again, and warm fingers brush across your cheek.

“Hey there,” Tommy’s voice sounds from behind you. “glad to see you awake.”

He sounds genuine.

You turn slightly to peer up at him, vision still hazy.

His eyes are crinkled with a slight smile, a thick mustache covering his upper lip. He’s stripped out of his jacket, clad in a shirt and jeans, and his touch still hasn't left you. Instead, it grows.

Explorative, you lie still.

There’s a wondrous edge to his gaze, his touch roaming the expanse of your body, clean of dirt and grime and suddenly you realize you’re dressed in fresh clothes, pants folded at the end of the bed. There was only a shirt and a thin pair of underwearing covering your body.

He had bathed you? Changed you?

Tommy notices the panic of the realization but soothes your worry with a touch that is gentle against your forehead, a much smaller bandage covering your head injury.

It’s weird, the faint glow that surrounds him.

Part of you wonders if this is still just a dream—maybe you’ve been dead for days.

His touch is so warm, guiding your legs apart as you gasp, his fingers resting over your core like they weren’t meant to be there.

“Wait,” you breath, thighs closing instinctively, “don’t—”

“Shhh,” Tommy soothes, the fingers of his opposite hand running along the side of your face, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he traces the flesh, “s’alright, you’re still lookin’ a little sleepy, sugar. Go on, you can rest,”

You’re only vaguely aware of how your bindings have changed, spread out at either end of the bedpost rather than bunched over your head, somehow feeling more restrictive than the latter.

Sleep was incredibly hard to fight, eyes fluttering through the growing curiosity of his touches, eventually slipping under the fabric of your panties.

“....well, look at that,” his voice is distant, but he’s met with a wet, warm heat as his fingers slide between your folds, watching as your lips part with the touch, “she loves me, don’t she?”

A soft mumble of a response in protest because it shouldn’t feel this good.

Tommy takes it in stride, the swift whip of his belt as it comes undone.

“Think I can make it quick,” Tommy says mutedly, feeling like you were underwater, “Joel should be back later, but I’ll treat your right, don’t worry,”

As the fabric goes, you come to, eyes widening as Tommy was already stripped of his jeans and underwear, cock hard and proud in his hand as he positioned himself between your legs, a gentle touch of his finger pressing inside of you.

The stretch makes you gasp, the fullness even more apparent as he adds another finger, pushing deep. It’s too much, the intensity of it all as you gasp and squirm against the bed. It was akin to something your body craved but your mind hasn’t caught up to yet.

It’s good, though—almost dizzyingly so. Tommy smirks; he knows it.

There’s a tightness in your chest that screams danger, but every time you open your mouth to protest, only a moan comes out.

“Fuck,” Tommy groans as he watches your eyes fall shut, finger working loudly inside of you against your squelching heat, “how am I supposed to wait with you so ready for me?”

He wasn’t. You could feel him shifting instead, hands spread out over your thighs as the head of his cock pushed between your folds—up, down, his face tilted to examine the sight before him, neglecting the tugs against your bindings in protest.

“Just watch,” he murmurs with a nod, barely above a whisper, “you’re gonna come on my cock before you even realize what’s happenin’, darlin’.”

“Tommy, please—” you choke, but everything else is a soft cry as he pushes inside of you.

His hips snap forward, filling you in one swift motion. 

The stretch is intense and overwhelming, a gasp of pain ripping from your throat.

You nearly whimper at the sensation after, his hand twisting around to your back to push up, arching you off the mattress as he rocks his hips in a steady timing—so tender in his affections, now languid thrusts drawing out a heat in your core that you didn’t ask for but can’t fight against.

The fight was useless, no give to the fabric tied around your wrist, the weight of his body against you as his hands spread out on the sheets beside the pillow under your head, his head level with your own but his eyes focused on the way your cunt sucked his cock up to the base.

He looks up briefly, tears in your eyes as they flutter shut in continued exhaustion.

“Don’t pass out on me now,” he teases when your eyes threaten to close, hips snapping forward to knock you back into the waking world, “I want you here for this, darlin’.”

He shifts slightly and your head is thrown back with an involuntary moan, every thrust dragging against that sweet spot inside of you that makes the world go white around the edges. 

He was right—he’s fucking right—and there’s no saving you from his cock as a full-body shiver invades you. You mumble something unintelligible, head throbbing with a dull pain.

“Look at you,” Tommy breathes and you force yourself to focus, unable to look away as his thumb dips between you both, teasing your clit with feather-light circles that make you tremble.

His touch is surprisingly kind, not indicative of his intentions or actions. He wants to make you feel good, he’s relying on it, actually. And you hate how it was working. Your walls clamp down tight on his cock as he grunts deep in his chest, pace increasing to an unrelenting speed that echoes through the room, skin on skin.

“God, please,” you moan, praying to an unknown, barely recognizing the needy pitch of your own voice. You tug at the fabric binding once more out of reflex, not even sure what you’d do if your hands were free.

He grins, low and predatory. “That’s it,” he says with a punctuating thrust, “Take it. All of it.”

His name is the only word left in your vocabulary for a moment, over and over and over again until he’s pulling out of you suddenly, hot streams of cum spreading out of your stomach and chest as he shoves your shirt up, the loss sudden and devastating despite your mind telling you otherwise.

Tommy slumps to your side after a moment, catching his own breath with a hand over his chest and his erection flagging between his thighs, biting your lip to stifle the quiet sobs as the realization of your situation had come into full-view.

No haze, no confusion, the medication wearing off. You were left with nothing but pain.

–

He’s sleeping beside you, has been for a while.

He redressed eventually, unsure as you had closed your eyes to feign sleep.

But, he looked so fucking peaceful.

He hadn’t bothered helping you much either, only slipping your underwear back on and shifting up the flimsy blanket to cover your shivering body, the cold biting at your skin—and you can feel the dried cum against your belly, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your skin.

You swallow the dryness in your mouth as you study him, the shadows under his eyes, the flutter of his lashes against his skin. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse on his face.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the creak of floorboards outside the room, and you freeze. 

It could only be one person.

“Tommy,” A voice booms in the distance, “Tommy!”

Tommy stirs beside you, groggy and unfocused, a slow realization dawning as he registers the call. It was Joel’s voice.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, pushing up from the mattress.

By the panic on his face and the minimal calculation in your head—you should be dead.

He was supposed to take care of the problem.

Instead, he’s treated you like a plaything. A toy.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you watch him. He puts on his boots with haphazard urgency, more worried about Joel finding him beside you rather than your obvious state of living.

He meets your eyes for half a second, but there’s nothing there—not pity, not guilt, nothing.

A coward, through and through.

He ducks out the door before you can respond, leaving it ajar enough that you hear Joel’s accusation cut through the silence.

“...always makin’ me clean up your fuckin’ mess,” He argues, “if you hadn’t left those bags out and let me shoot her then—”

“I know, I know,” comes Tommy’s reply, more distant now, but you can still hear him scrambling for an excuse. “Just hold on a sec!”

You can hear the heavy footsteps approach, “Just get the fuck outta here for a few hours before I kill you too,” he threatens, though it sounded empty.

A creeping fear begins to settle in as you realize this is it—this time, there’ll be no reprieve.

When he approaches, his shadow creeping through the door, you have no choice but to face him. Hands still bound, you were helpless.

“Rise and shine, little thief,” his voice carries.

Joel examines the room with careful eyes, taking note of the half-eaten food and dirtied rags. It doesn’t take a genius for him to realize his brother had dragged this out for a while. Joel was only gone a few days, but he’d been keeping you sustained and alive without needing to.

And against Joel’s instruction.

Joel shakes his head in silence before he’s pulling the gun out of his jeans, finger on the trigger and you don’t know why—but you beg.

“I–please, please,” you begin, your voice raw, “I don’t wanna die. Joel, please.”

He flinches at you using his name, stepping closer as he presses the barrel into your forehead and cocks the lever back, “I’ll do anything. I’ll help—I’ll be…be good. Tommy kept me alive for a reason, r—right? He could have killed me too.”

“He can’t,” Joel tells you, “my mistake for thinkin’ he could.”

You struggled against the bindings as you kick your feet, shoving the sheet away to reveal your state of undress, “He did a lot worse,” you snap at him, “you—your brother, you’re fucking monsters, no real men would do what he did.”

That has him lowering the gun just a fraction, like he’s considering it. 

The shadows of doubt flicker over his eyes, and in that moment you see your chance.

“I can help. Steal—lay low,” you attempt to convince him, helplessness thick in your voice. “You don’t gotta kill me. I’ve just been trying to survive.”

“You think I believe a word comin’ outta your mouth?” Joel says, but now it feels more like he’s trying to convince himself, “Why were you stealin’ our meds? You got some camp you were takin’ ‘em back to?”

“No,” you reply quickly, insistent, “no—it was just me. I just—I needed something, anything to get rid of this feeling that I have all the time. It’s constant panic.”

Joel seems to pause, a silent deliberation. He eyes your figure, strung up and helpless. It was worse than just killing you outright.

“Or, let me go,” you plead, hoping desperation might unearth some small fragment of mercy. “I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again. I swear.”

His jaw tightens, and you think he’s about to pull the trigger. Instead, he curses under his breath and lowers the gun entirely.

“You’re pathetic,” he spits, tossing the gun aside and opening his knife to cut at your bindings, “Get up.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging your arms over yourself for some semblance of modesty, unmoving on the bed.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, his voice low and threatening. “I don’t trust you. You’re gonna prove yourself or die tryin’ to.”

He throws you your old pile of clothes folding on the table beside your bed, reeking up mildew.

“Get changed, now,” He demands, but doesn’t leave,

Fine. Whatever.

You shift to your knees and strip the top over your head, wincing at the throb of pain between your legs as Joel seems to freeze, spotting the mess dried on your stomach.

“You ain’t never shot a gun, have you?” Joel asks suddenly, “Killed anyone?”

You shake your head impishly.

“I’m good at being quiet, sneaking around,” you admit, aware of the way his eyes examine your breasts, the gentle curve as you pull the shirt over your head and toss it aside, “At least—I was.”

Letting you go was risky, but shooting you now seemed like a waste.

You had nothing to offer and Joel didn’t need that on his conscience.

Not that he really cared, but disposing of your body was more trouble than it was worth.

You recognize that same flicker of greed in Joel’s eyes that was prevalent in Tommy’s.

For Joel, it was more subdued and brought out by the sight that his brother had already staked a claim over you when he shouldn’t have, leaving Joel to clean up his mess.

He really didn’t appreciate that.

Luckily, Joel knew just how to fuck with Tommy; stealing his favorite toy.

He steps closer, a dangerous grin spreading across his face as you freeze, pausing your movements as you sit stripped down to your underwear before him.

“Didn’t even clean ya up, did he?” Joel mocks using the barrel of his revolver to motion at your chest, growing increasingly irritated at the situation before him.

“No, he didn’t,” you admit sheepishly, watching Joel’s free hand disappear behind your head until he could tip your neck back, exposing your bare chest as he gathered saliva in his mouth to dribble the spit over your chest.

You hated to admit it, but you were pliant.

Like putty in his hands.

“Clean it up,” he demanded.

Your eyes searched for mercy that would never come before dropping to your chest, the glistening mess trickling down to the waistband of your underwear. You stare back up at him nervously, but his face is stoic, unwavering.

You clear your throat softly and trial your fingers through the spit and drag it back up your chest, cleaning away the mess that Tommy had left, using the dirtied shirt to wipe yourself clean.

Before you can muster a response, he’s shoving two fingers past your lips, pressing against the back of your throat so hard that you choke, “He use this too?”

You shake your head impishly, lashes fluttering as he presses his fingers down against your tongue, eyes watering at the sudden intrusion. You sputter around his digits, tasting him and the salt of his palm.

Leaving his fingers in your mouth, he pulls you up to your feet with a matching furiosity to his previous actions that has you paw at his wrist for leverage, eventually releasing his fingers from your mouth with a pop and leaving you slack jawed and breathless. 

You don’t have time to recover, though, before he’s pulling his knife out and slicing clean through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Joel,” it’s a moan this time, breathless. 

He ignores you.

“Gonna show you what a real man does,” Joel says ominously.  

His rough hands push you to the floor, knees hitting the wood with a painful thud as they knock against each other.

“I’ll let you live,” he says gruffly, his own pants unfastened until he can shove them down enough to free his cock, precome already beading at the tip and dripping down his shaft.

He’s hard—so fucking hard—and just the sight of him makes your stomach churn in anticipation and fear, made worse by the hand that grips into your hair, forcing your mouth open as he pushes past your lips with the head of his cock.

“But, it ain’t without you provin’ how much you wanna,”

You gag instantly and Joel tightens his grip against the back of your head. There’s little to no fight in you after the display of power, your breath hitching as he pulls his cock out suddenly, gasping for air before he’s guiding himself back into your mouth, a rough but steady rock of his hips as he holds your head between his palms, fearful that he could kill you like this.

A simple snap of your neck and it would be over.

You were a fool for thinking this would be an easy end for you.

But, at least Joel was upfront about his fucking intentions. 

“Keep lookin’ at me,” Joel seethes, snapping his hips twice and rough as you sputter around his cock, chin slick with your drool, “want you to remember this,”

There’s no choice other than to comply, quick and shallow breaths through your nose as Joel fucks your mouth with little care, the taste of him heady on your tongue as his cock forces down the cries in your throat.

He was making you earn this.

Making you work for the trust, freedom—your life.

He’s relentless, a predator through and through.

There was no haze keeping you compliant, only a faint throbbing at your head and the sight of a powerful man standing over you, fist in your hair as stared up the line of buttons that led to his face, a soft growl in his throat at the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth, eyes rolling back slightly when he pressed too hard.

You knew there wasn’t much choice in the matter, but you weren’t sure how defiant you would be if things were different—it was clear that Joel and Tommy could survive, and in turn, they could keep you alive too—couldn’t they?

You nod gently to his earlier statement, focusing on him as your now free hands roam up under the fabric of his clothes and squeeze, thankful for the brief reprieve as his cock slide back toward the tip of your tongue and rests there, watching his face scrunch and contort as he comes without warning.

It’s thick spurts against your tongue that are blended with his low, guttural groans as he slowly loosens the grip on your hair and offers a low, “Know damn well what’s good for you—like that,” he notes casually.

You wipe hastily at your mouth with your open palm as your rise on shaky legs, eyeing him cautiously before he tuts with his tongue, pushing your hand away, “Ain’t done with you quite yet,”

There’s a split second where you think about making a break for it, eyeing the door with a flicker of hope, but Joel’s grip is tight and forceful, feeling the sharp tug as he pulls you into his lap, facing you toward the bar at the end of the bed, gripping it as he silently guides your hands there—for a moment, you think he’s going to tie you back up like Tommy had, but he doesn’t.

He takes a seat on the center of the mattress and shifts his jeans down and off, your back to him as he settles you between his legs, watching the discarded clothing fall to the floor as you hold your breath.

You can feel the hot press of a palm flat against your back, up your spine as it curves around your shoulder, “You’re gonna go to Tommy after I fuck you,” Joel explains, gripping his cock as he slides it between your folds and presses in slow, gasping at the thickness as it spreads you open, “and tell him how this is all mine,” his hand squeezes at your hip, guiding your back against his cock as you grip at the metal frame, feeling him shift slightly until he’s on his shins, pistoning his hips into you with fervor, “and I don’t,” thrust, a rough grunt following, “fuckin’—” you moan shakily, biting at the skin on your bicep to muffle the noise, “share.”

He’s relentless, really.

His grip is bruising, not holding back in his strength as he guides your hips down against his cock, feeling the sweat in his palms as he breathes heavily behind you.

“Maybe you were a damn blessing,” Joel says softly, maybe not even aware he’s said it aloud until he continues, “been prayin’ for one for a while,”

“I’m—” You croak, speaking weakly, “I’m not,”

“Dunno,” Joel argues, “ain’t religious either, to be honest,”

You laugh at that, though it was mostly just a soft noise that filters out of your nose as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, frustrated with how much pleasure he was bringing you despite his nature and intention, using you for whatever means he felt was necessary.

“Pussy like this,” He notes with amusement and a tinge of fondness, “goddamn miracle if you ask me.”

Then suddenly, his chest is at your back, hand wrapping around your neck as he pulls you back.

His other hand curls around the inside of your thigh, drifting close to your dripping, swollen cunt.

There isn’t much expectation in a return of pleasure until his fingers are moving against your clit in tandem with his quick thrusts, a begrudgingly welcomed touch as he groans against your shoulder, his teeth biting into the skin until you cry out.

“Difference between Tommy and I,” he states, guiding you over the edge of your orgasm as you shake, head falling back against his shoulder helplessly before he groans low, animalistic in your ear before you feel his grip tighten, hips stuttering as he came deep inside your cunt, “I claim what’s mine.”

Joel didn’t need your response—he just held you tighter, like something earned, a prize won, something no one else would touch again.

When the silence settles around you and you’ve dressed obediently under his command, the only thing stronger than his words was the way your body still remembered both of their touches.

[page-isa]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 - 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤

summary: you and Jungkook are no where near being the 'perfect couple', your relationship constantly being on and off. Each time you break up, you always run back to him. Not this time. That is until someone shows up on your doorstep...

pairing: reader x jungkook

word count: 5.2k

content warning: adult characters, fluff, smut (mdni), nipple play, eating out, fingering, arguments, let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: hihi this fanfic is inspired by the song kiss and make up, I really enjoyed writing this one, writing y/n and Jungkook to be really frustrating was so fun (so much that I had to tone it down lol). It's a short one but I hope you enjoy<3

masterlist : taglist : moodboard

Jungkook and you were nowhere near ‘the perfect couple’. You were miles away from being anywhere near the textbook definition. Tension would drip around you like a faulty tap, always playing in the background of your lives. Which never really bothered either of you until it became too much to bear.

When you and Jungkook broke up for the first time, you cried for days on end, devastated at the fact that you had lost the one you had hoped to be with for the rest of your life. Over time, you both decided that you weren't going to last. That didn't stop either of you from making the most of each other, from trips and couple dates to spending all your spare time together. 

Of course, the day had gone as usual. Movies played lowly in the living room as you cooked lunch for both of you. The food finished, and you were exhausted, letting your body slump as you both sat down at the table. The crisp bread being cut up filled the room.

Maybe it was the fact that he wore his boots into your apartment, putting dirt on the freshly cleaned floors. Although he was carrying stuff for you, you couldn't help but be irritated.

Or maybe it was the fact that he abandoned you to meet his co-worker. It was halfway through your movie date to meet the girl you never liked – the one you had confronted him about meeting, Lia. The way she kept her hands on his clothes, insisting it was just her “wiping off some dust”. After all this, you still haven't received a thank you for the meal you cooked.

You scrubbed dishes in silence, each squeak of the dishes playing over your anger. The tension was bound to bubble over sooner or later. Like every other time.

“Annoyed again?” he asks. It always feels like he was the one who created the problem, but he never knew what he did. You stop cleaning the dishes and turned to face him. Your eyes worked their way up from the sink. Fixating on his face, clueless and annoyed – annoyed at you, annoyed at you for not saying anything, not knowing what he did. What was there to say? Every single time you did, nothing changed.

“At least try to think about what you’ve done wrong before asking me, or try to apologise for not knowing.” You turn to face him, brows furrowing at his ignorance.

“Is this about Lia again? Come on, love. You're acting like a child. I've told you so many times before that she's just a co-worker I'm close with. Besides, can't there be female and male relationships without anything involved? I never question you and your friends.” 

Your mouth automatically gapes. You can't believe him. The ignorance and audacity he has to, for one, not apologise, but two, defend her behaviour. “Are you serious right now? Tell me you're not, and don't call me love.” 

“You never had a problem with it before.” Even amid the argument, he still couldn't hide his smirk, playfully resting on his lips.

“Well, now I do.” You have to stick to your argument and not get caught in his trap by teasing you.

“Regardless, I'm not cheating. She's never even done anything wrong, especially to you!” He brushes his hair back, forehead wrinkling in frustration.

“Are you saying you’ve never seen the way she takes any opportunity to brush against you, take you out for meals, and chat you up? God, you must be oblivious to every girl that flirts with you.” You’re sure of it now, he doesn’t care about you. He was a charmer for all those other women. Purely using you as a toy when he was bored.

You notice how he hesitates to respond. The wavering look in his eye and the pause before he speaks. It is clear. 

“I can't believe you, of all people, can't even open your mind to platonic relationships. I haven't done anything with her and never will.” He finds no reason to refute your arguments; unable to keep arguing, he stopped everything to focus on you, inconveniencing himself.

“Let's break up. I don't need to deal with you – deal with this anymore.” Your breath jagged as you sigh, accepting this as your undeniable fate. You and Jungkook were just not meant to be. Despite all the times you came to this conclusion, you have always been drawn back to him. No more tears swell in your eyes compared to the past. The number of times Jungkook had shown how little you mean to him, never upset or trying to make amends during arguments, merely accepting you and him breaking up.

“Fine. Don't expect me to take you back when you show up on my doorstep next week.” Scowling at you, like he wasn't the one causing you to break up. Mearley was making time to grab his necessities, which were scattered around the apartment.

“Just get your stuff and leave.” He knew how to get on your nerves, successfully leaving you with a lingering headache for the rest of the day.

The pads of his feet leaving the door replay through your mind, he will never drag you down again, lingers in your brain, and through memories of you.

You make a deal.

No more going back to Jeon jungkook.

________________

The following Monday, when you entered your office, you arrived early and left your handbag at your desk before heading to the canteen. A familiar figure catches your eye at the coffee machine – Supervisor Kim Namjoon.

“Hello, sir,” you mumble, matching the volume in the room, displaying respect before slipping beside him. He gives a slight nod to you, greeting his recent acquaintance. Considering that the two of you lived near the company, both of you were usually the first here. You spark a conversation about his wife and daughter, allowing him to share as many pictures as he could. Fond of his family, he met his wife early after leaving company dinners to spend time with his family. It was truly admirable, and his wife was as beautiful as a lily blooming in spring. 

“How have you been ___?” You begin the conversation as usual, small talk evolving to friendly laughter. Even though he knew about your now ex-boyfriend, you don't shy away from telling him about your most recent breakup with him.

“Jungkook and I broke up again, but that's not new or surprising news.” A small chuckle slips from your lips, echoing in the room only filled by a whirring coffee machine.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised, but aren't you just going to get back together in a week or two? Not to be rude, but I don’t know if you have lasted two weeks before getting back together.” You can’t even be offended by what Namjoon said, because it is true. This time is different. You are ready to forget about him. Jungkook was no longer bothering you; he was no longer a part of your life. 

“No, I'm not going back to him anymore. It's best if I move on to someone else.”

You should feel happy. Right?

 If that is true, why are you feeling so irritated by the silence of having no one to annoy and infuriate you? Perhaps you did miss him, but that would vanish soon.

Your conversation comes to a close as some co-workers enter the room, creating an awkward silence filled with the occasional chatter.

You and Namjoon head to your respective offices, leaving each other with a small wave before starting the long work day. The day felt longer than usual, and after lunch, you were drained. No energy left, maybe it was the silence you sat in at lunch with no messages to respond to, nothing but scrolling on your phone, and drinking an excessive amount of coffee. Which would end up weighing you down, but you didn't care. You needed the energy. 

________________

The following weekend, you can't help but think about Jungkook as you browse through the department stores, full of clothes, accessories, and food.

His grin beams at you, helping you change the bedding. It would shape into a friendly wrestling match. It was infectious, and it left your cheeks sore from smiling with him.

You slip your hand through the railings, through the oversized shirts, clothing sets he would've loved when you first met – the camo pattern hurts your eyes, wondering how you have ever fallen for a guy like this. ‘Jungkook would like this.’ or the occasional ‘Maybe I should buy this for him’, almost forgetting you had broken up. This must be the hard part of breaking up, before you move on from him.

It’s insufferable. You never realise how much you miss someone until they're gone, even if they caused you pain. Jungkook was never truly gone, but you were moving on from him. In the quiet moments, watching couples on dates, you couldn't help but miss his presence. 

Each simple beat that plays on the radio would remind you of the first time you dated, the simple romantics, letting him sway you around as you made dinner, evolving into full, extravagant concerts he would give you while screaming into the TV remote. His theatrics had successfully charmed you, falling into his trap.  Now it's obvious to you that his behaviour was infinitely ingrained in you. Scarring deep into your heart. You were going to be in a lot of pain getting rid of him. It will be worth ridding oneself of any torment. Anything related to him will be gone. 

Unlike before, you sit on the sofa, alone. Your carbonara in hand, the one that became your favourite after Jungkook taught you how to make it.

You slip into your pyjamas, remembering every time you wore this with him, putting on facemasks, and sleeping in his arms. You can't help but wonder why you have memories of everything related to him, big or small. Unable to understand why you miss him so much. It's confusing.

________________

When you sit in the quiet cafe that you visit often, editing a presentation that a rookie has slipped up on. You can’t blame them – you still remember when you too were a rookie, slipping up when given work to do, too scared to decline when work was thrown at you by corrupt workers. 

You can't help but baby all the rookies, putting yourself in their position. You are left with no choice but to fix the mistakes in numbers, grammar, and design. The coffee cups take over the table, leaving you little space to work. You hadn't planned to spend your evening like this.

Nearing the end of your workload, a hand places another cup of coffee steaming up in the air, the smell enticing you away from your work. 

“Hey there.”

A young man with wavy dark brown hair stood looming over you, placing the cup of coffee right beneath your nose. Unable to resist, you ponder his features. 

‘He’s pretty handsome.’ You catch yourself off guard thinking absurd thoughts of a stranger, despite your indecency, every time you looked at him, he was grinning at you, eagerly awaiting to talk to you.

“You're gorgeous. I was wondering if you want to go out for dinner sometime?” You are taken aback, considering you have never met this man.

“Sorry, but I have-” The words almost slipped from your tongue; it had become a common phrase if a guy ever asked you out. It seemed so normal to have Jungkook around, but now you have no one to restrain you.

“I would love to, uh, what is your name? Sorry? Do you have a date in mind?” 

His face displays everything, clearly preparing to be rejected. His eyes almost bulged out of his head, and you can't help but smile. His face softens into a small laugh. He is cute, you can't help ogling over him, like a fangirl meeting her favourite celebrity.

“Oh. Yeah, it's Hoseok. How does the 15th sound?” He smiles gently at you as you take a sip of the coffee given to you. He is sweet.

“Sure, that suits me. Could I get your number so we can arrange more later?”

For the first time in a long time, you’re excited to try something new, maybe you have stuck with your comfort zone for far too long. The nerves and excitement were indistinguishable. All blurred together into one jittering mess.

Hoseok leaves with a quick exchange of numbers and a warm cup of coffee to enjoy as you finished your work. A smile is on your face as you finish your presentation, walk home, eat dinner, and go to sleep. 

A quick notification catches your attention — It is the Hoseok from today.

“I hope you got home safe., I can't wait to see you next week.” A short message, but it stayed with you for the rest of the night.

“I can't wait for it.” A soft reply, giving you butterflies. Over and over again, you can't help but think about how long it's been since you went on a first date with someone new. Hoseok's brown eyes linger in your brain, lighting around his iris. Eyes fluttering closed as you turn over, listening to the rustling of your duvet.

________________

May 15th.

It is finally Friday and the time of your date. In the mirror was your reflection, dressed in a silk black dress and high heels. In your hand was your bag, filled with lip gloss and other random items. 

Ping.

A notification from your phone.

Hoseok: “Hey, I'll be outside in 5 minutes. Can't wait to see you.”

Every time a message was exchanged, it felt different. Hoseok was not what you were used to. He was always the one contacting you before you even got the chance. 

It felt weird, probably because you haven't stepped outside your comfort zone in a while. He was ready for you at your building, clutching a beautifully arranged bouquet of lilies and baby breath. They were beautiful.

He guides you to his car, like a gentleman opening the door for you. Holding your hand as he drove, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, as he focused. He is dressed head to toe perfectly, in a nice shirt and pants. His watch decorated his wrist well.

The dinner was beautiful, a gorgeous restaurant that left you in awe as you witnessed the display of paintings. The chandeliers captured light perfectly from every angle, illuminating the room with a welcoming warmth. Unsurprised by your reaction, he playfully nudges you with his shoulder. Offering his hand to you. 

You both finished your food swiftly. Good to know he was as much of a food fan as you were. Taking a walk along the pier and buying ice cream from a stand, coincidentally open this late. The lights illuminated the water, and the boats moved silently, swaying from side to side slowly. 

Was this what you wanted? 

You were so happy, He seemed to agree.

You were still unsure. 

Why did a guy like him appear in your life now?

You couldn't help but point out the similarities between him and Jungkook. 

Both had the same enchanting charms, drawing you in. Time spent joking together, teasingly. 

Everything you liked about Jeon Jungkook, you liked about him. It might just be your type, but it was undeniable that they were extremely similar.

You ended the night taking photos, in secret, you both did the same, capturing each other in perfect light near the water. His warm hand leading you back to his car in the same gentle manner as before, holding you tight so you couldn't let go.

The drive back to your apartment was comfortable, your karaoke playing through the streets as you let down the window. Filling the car with a cold breeze, giving you goosebumps, but it felt good. Helping to drown the thoughts.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight. I had a lot of fun.” You weren't lying, the night was so much fun, magical even. He was such a sweetheart, and you found yourself cherishing every moment.

“Goodnight,___, Sleep well,” Hoseok says, watching you enter your apartment, giving him a last wave before closing the door behind you. All that has happened feels surreal. 

________________

It's been a week since your date with Hoseok, you have reached out to each other casually, but no plans yet. It’s already the end of the month, and all you can think of is what to have for dinner. Recently, the company has been loading you and your co-workers with projects. Giving you no time to think. Every day you have been working nonstop, now that it is finally the weekend. Fingers bruised from how much they had been abused in the recent weeks.

The soft hum of the TV removes all thoughts from your head, giving you time to sit mindlessly. Not thinking of anything, a peaceful rest. Since your mind had been dragged through the mud in the past month, you had learned to take care of yourself.

Learning new boundaries, making more time for yourself, and even forming new connections with people, you finally felt at peace. Sure, life was still hard, but you were surviving, living, and you enjoyed it. 

The cup of coffee, lifelessly placed on the table, had gone cold, making your nose crunch from displeasure as you took a sip.

The steam, no longer pouring into the air of the apartment. 

You had taken it upon yourself to refresh your apartment. The incense you placed throughout the rooms pressed into the fabric of your clothes, overpowering everything with a new, refreshing scent. 

Your hands pull away from the mug's handle, jaw clenching in annoyance since it feels like you only brewed this cup. The mindless thinking lingered for long enough for your drink to go cold, and for the TV to have changed. 

Hands twitch against the cold mug as you enclose it in your palm, silently making your way to the sink, still dripping. 

‘I need to call a plumber soon.’ You had taken notice over the past couple of weeks that the dripping water had become more vigorous, sending you into a frenzy every time you heard it. Each drop drives you deeper and deeper. You try to play music over it, yet it seems to linger in your head over and over again. 

Each step on the wood floors seemed quiet compared to the dripping of the tap. Somehow, it played over everything. Surely it was your mind. Your mind was destroyed, letting go and losing everything. 

You were vulnerable, but surviving. Over the past couple of months, you’ve transformed. 

You couldn't help but think about how you haven't talked or seen –

A soft thump against the door of your apartment, knocking you out of your trance. 

Then there was another. The silence was eerie; you hadn't arranged any plans with anyone to come over tonight. The dishes were left in their state as you made your way to the door, cautious of who could potentially be out there.

The figure you never expected to see.

Jeon Jungkook.

Standing on your front doorstep.

Not once during your relationship have you seen him like this; it was almost like he was vulnerable? 

“What are you doing here?” Maintaining your stern tone, but a piece of you is still attached to the presence of him lingering in your house.  A ghost now, but still missed. 

“Can we work this whole thing out? Please.” The plea came out quiet, a restrained whine. It was working. He was pulling on your heart, like every other time. He lifted the bouquet to your face, a peace offering.

His face lights up as you shift to the side, allowing him in again.

Yet another mistake.

You take the flowers from his palm, and the drooping petals move with every step. They are truly beautiful, though, each colour perfecting the overall look of the arrangement. You were captivated by them. Never had you seen such flowers curated into a bouquet like this. It was truly unique.

“I appreciate the gift, but I don’t see what we have to work out?” The snipping of the flower stems broke the uncomfortable silence. Laying out each one to put into a vase. 

“We haven't talked in a month ___” You knew. You had counted the weeks, days, and hours until the end of the month. 

“Oh really? I hadn’t even noticed.” A blatant lie. The stale tone of your voice, targeted at him for everything he did. Though he knew you too well. You couldn’t play him and, from the moment you let him into your life. You had been enchanted. Some might say trapped, others will say safe. You had more good memories than bad ones, but you haven't decided which outweighs the other yet.

“Don't lie to me,___. I'm sorry for showing up now of all times, but this can't wait-”

“Do you have any idea of what you're saying? You should be aware that you were the one who broke up with me all this time, playing me like a toy. Now that I have broken up with you, you come running back? We shouldn’t even be talking right now.” 

“I know, but I needed to see you., I was a complete and utter idiot to think that I could ever live without you in my life. Your absence in the past few weeks made me realise that, and I'm so sorry I didn't say anything sooner. I love you so much, ___. Please, I love you truly, and I hope you believe that because it's true. I know I really shouldn't have intruded, but I miss you so much, I swear that no matter what, I will always work to resolve our arguments, and I want to start over. I won't pressure you right now, but I'm glad I got to say it.” He stalls, wishing for a reply.

He was truly desperate, but you had just seen so much good in him right now, so much willingness for you to be his, letting him look after you.

Your eyes stay on the flowers, stems thrown to the side, while the flowers lie scenic in the dim light of the apartment. The squeak of his shoes draws you back. You see his back turning to leave, and in this moment, there's no other thought in your brain than you can't let Jungkook leave. 

If he is willing to work on himself this much, you are going to give it a shot. Regardless of how much you have shadowed your feelings away with events in your life, He remained in your heart. Caught on his wire, pulling you closer.

Your heart pulses stronger than ever before, urging you to run after him. 

You did.

Your steps chase after him, hitting the floor in unison with his. Finally, you understood that by doing this, you were giving yourself to Jungkook, and he was doing the same with you.

He turned to you for one last time, not expecting you to be so close he couldn't help but flinch. Your arms snake their way to the back of his neck, fingers feeling the tufts of hair on his neck.  Twirling them between your thumb and index as your lips navigate their way to Jungkook's, smiling into the kiss. Starting slowly, working into the rhythm you set up. 

You pull him closer, and the grip he has on your waist ignites butterflies. The way he spends his time working your lips with his. Creating undeniable friction. Making out with Jungkook was everything you needed; he had the perfect amount of soft but leading demeanor. He was a pro, teaching you everything you needed or even taking charge so you could feel good without moving a finger. This time, you were desperate for more and decided to take initiative to get it.

You needed more. Pushing against him and deepening the kiss, whining as he rubs his hand on your clit, Making you fold into the kiss. Your mouth widening to moan, letting him take advantage of you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, ravishing everything he's missed. Desperately placing more pressure onto your clit, while trailing his lips down every inch of your body. Down your neck and past the sweater he loved. Working his lips down to your pants, slipping them down your legs. Giving him full access to everything. 

Working his tongue up and down your already wet pussy, slipping into you from time to time. Your knees buckled at every flick of his tongue; he was savouring every bit of your reactions, your sounds, and even the taste of you.

The sucking and muffled groans as you tug on his hair, fill your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, caging you as you whimper and writhe at his every touch.

“Please. Please, Jungkook, I'm going to” 

Your hand digging into his soft hair, trying to move his head away from throwing you over the edge. His stubbornness exceeds your strength at the moment, quickly followed by your legs trembling. Leaving your juices dripping onto his tongue. 

You stood there breathless, shaking under every touch, but to Jungkook, you looked like a Renaissance painting. Every angle of you was perfect. You attracted him with every movement and in everything you did.

The way your hips bucked, eager for more, while you whined how it was too much. He loved it. 

Lifting you and placing your legs to rest on his hips as he walks you to the bedroom, the mattress creaking as both of your weights slump against it. His lips tracing over yours, winding their way to your nipple, surrounded by goosebumps that prickled your skin. 

Every touch has you shuddering, your every movement feeling weaker than it should be. Despite the warmth of your room, you got chills from every touch. Slowly diving deeper into every touch, losing control.

His fingers run along your lip, gathering slick before pushing you even further. Slipping two digits into you, stretching you out even more. He knew exactly what to do; every flick in a direction was intentional, and the way he controlled you made it seem like he knew your body better than you did. 

The sound of his zipper coming undone dragged you back to life; you couldn't help but stare in awe. Lost in his touch, blissfully unaware of how long the night would be. His calloused hands work their way over every part of your body. 

Tracing your nipples, the ones he bruised and teased earlier, torturing you under his grasp. 

You could feel him slipping the tip of his cock into you as he pinched your nipples, overstimulating you every way as he pushes his length into you starting to move. Tears spill from the creases of your eye,s littering your face. Jungkook takes notice of this, palms running through your hair, littering kisses from cheek to cheek.

“Are you alright? I didn't mean to hurt you, baby, I'm so sorry.” Squeezing you into a hug, pulling you in as close as he could for comfort. 

“I’m okay, I just need a second.” Your head falling into place on his shoulder, breathing with him. Your chest, which had been rapidly rising and falling, has slowed. Hands moving to your bare back, running his fingers around your shoulder blades. 

“Take all the time you need, baby. You know, all the time we were separate, did I miss you? I even cried.” He chuckled since he was exposing himself. 

“I felt lost without you. I needed to make it up with you, and still do. Thank you for letting me attempt to work it out. I'm glad we made up.” You were overwhelmed with emotion, feeling so appreciated with his words, which painted you as some humble deity, but you were thankful.

The soft smile on his face. The small smile lines on his cheeks. He was irresistible. Bru, all yours. 

“I love you, Jungkook.” Working your nails over his cheeks before making out, you wanted nothing more than each other on each other. Enjoying each other's presence like it was the last time. 

His lips were soft, slower this time. Leading your back with his hand on the bed. His arm slipped around your lower back.

“I'm ready to continue now, if that's okay with you.” Locking eyes, from how long you kept eye contact with him, it seemed like he was unwilling to break any kind of contact with you. 

“I’ll move now if that's okay.” Pressing his lips to your forehead. He was truly making the most of you as if it were his last, wanting nothing else in the world right now. It would seem like everything he wanted to do was complete; he made up with you, and everything was perfect. 

His cock slowly pushes into you, sending you to heaven and back. Making you grasp onto the bed sheets under you, knuckles turning white from the pressure in your hand. 

“Are you alright? I can stop if you want -” You could hear the worry in his voice, afraid he would hurt you. 

“No, I'm alright. Please, continue.” He pushes deeper into you, starting slow but picking up the pace as me moves. Your whines and whimpers drive him even further, leaving him wanting more at the sound of you.

“God, please, I need more, it's so-so good.” 

Stumbling over your words and the moans pour out of your mouth. Desperate for more, your hips move, attempting to get more friction against you. He was moving at a painfully slow pace, teasing you all over. Placing his hand on your lower stomach, pushing, making you feel everything. 

“You're all mine now, okay, love?” As Jungkook lets the last words of that sentence slip off his tongue, he speeds up to an unimaginable pace. Blissfully piercing you, making you feel better than you thought you ever could.

You could feel both you and Jungkook's highs coming, as he began to rut more desperately into you. His thrusts become more syncopated and irregular. Your stomach fills with a sense that you are close, along with your legs shaking.

“Fuck, I need to cum baby.” Begging for you to hold out until he cums, as his thrusts become more desperate and fast. Driving into you.

Toes curl as you come to your climax, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you feel waves of pleasure drown you.

“I love you so much.” Whispering in his ear as he slumps against you. Arms bringing you to the bathroom to clean every bit of your body. Jungkook is taking care of everything as he repeats songs of praise about how much he loves you.

________________

1 month later

“Jungkook? Did you fix the sink?” Looking up at him, eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes.

“Yeah, I fixed it after we got back together, love.” Placing a kiss on your temple as you resume the peaceful rest on the couch.

No wonder life has been so calm the past month.

[norrissm]

⌗ more than enough — ln4

lando x reader. est. relationship. fluff. a date night long overdue for the both of you. best part by daniel ceasar, HER ★ LIBRARY

it was a triple header for lando. the season was at its peak and mclaren was seeing phenomenal success with their driver lineup. lando was a contender for the championship and i couldn’t be prouder.

he had been busier than usual—race weekends, endless media duties, simulator sessions, and then, when he was finally back home, i was the one caught up in work. time kept slipping through my fingers, and before either of us knew it, weeks had passed without a proper date night.

so coming home one night, finding lando by the kitchen leaning against the counter, eyes darting up at the soft thud of the door— a teasing smirk painted his face. features noticeably relaxing. the stress which had been on his eyes, giving way to some semblance of peace.

“get ready f’me?” his voice reverberated in the room. been weeks since we’d looked at each other. weeks we’d gone without a proper conversation, weeks filled with nothing but muffled exchanges of appreciation in the quiet of sleep

“why?” i asked, narrowing my eyes albeit too happy to finally see him. i walked towards him. taking his arms in mine. “because,” he stepped closer, hands finding my waist, “i’m taking you out. dress up for me, yeah?”

my heart fluttered at the way he looked at me—soft, expectant like he’d missed me just as much as i’d missed him.

“you’re asking me out?”

“properly asking you out,” he corrected, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. “none of that last-minute takeaway on the couch stuff. a real date. now go, before i change my mind and decide i like the couch idea better.”

getting ready together held an intimate domesticity in your heart.

lando sat on the edge of the bed, watching me do my makeup, making little comments here and there. he’d planned out the evening for the both of us. drinks at my favourite local brewery, coming back home to make homemade pizzas. “heart-shaped pizzas,” i’d corrected him with a silly glint in my eyes. ending the night with some gelato and a walk by the neighbourhood.

“just like the times we first met,” he’d reminisced. the first few dates of lando and i were mostly these activities. lots of walking, lots of gelato and cooking together. “it’s domestic and intimate,” lando had justified.

“just get dressed, norris.” i chuckled.

he did, though he took his sweet time, waiting for me to zip up my dress before he stood behind me, fixing the clasp of my necklace with delicate fingers.

“you look beautiful,” he murmured against my shoulder.

“you clean up nice too,” i teased, smoothing down his collar.

and just like that, hand in hand, we finally got your long-overdue date night, full of laughter, stolen kisses, and the feeling of falling in love with him all over again.

and at this moment — under the bustling cacophony of monaco — this was more than enough. he was more than enough.

reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved ©️norrissm please do not copy, save, or translate my stories.

[retroaria]

Hello! I'm not sure if you write for Karasu from Blue lock but if do you can I request first time hcs for him? If you don't write for him, Sae works too :D

✶ first time!

itoshi sae + karasu tabito x fem!reader

a/n: i definitely wanna do these for all the other guys after my event ends!

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

➜ itoshi sae

when you and sae first started dating he was quick to try and initiate sex, feeling a bit confused if you were to tell him you wanted to wait.

once you are ready to have sex with him he plays it off like it’s no big deal but he secretly is fighting back his own excitement.

it shows in his eagerness to have you undressed beneath him. he takes your clothes off like a savage and immediately aims to mark you up, kissing and nibbling at your skin as his hands graze your body up and down squeezing and gripping at certain areas. sae is the kind of guy who gets off on the feeling of soft clean skin, so he takes his time appreciating your entire body.

normally he’d be more rough, but for your first time he decides to be a bit more gentle with everything. instead of eating you out like a madman he laps at your clit with a leisurely pace and curls his fingers into you slow but still striking.

he’d fuck you in standard missionary so he can moan softly in your ear and have you moaning in his. also likes to nibble at your neck and jaw.

his pace is at a comfy medium. he just doesn’t have it in him to make his thrusts slow and steady, but he enjoys slowing down a bit if only for the ability to make each thrust hit hard against your sweet spot to ensure your nails keep digging into his shoulders and biceps the entire time (his favorite fucking thing omg).

pull out > condom, unless you ask him to wear one which he would be fine with but he prefers not to. keeps his cock snug between your walls for as long as he possibly can. when sae’s close to orgasm he fully nuzzles his face in your neck and wraps his arms underneath you to pull you impossibly closer. he isn’t a loud moaner but his soft low groans are like audible porn.

sae’s aftercare doesn’t feel like he put in a lot of effort but it’s still good bc he basically just has you do all the stuff he would want to do himself after sex. shower, water, snuggle up.

➜ karasu tabito

he’d be so patient if you wanted to wait for the relationship to get more serious! he’s a player for sure but when he’s locked in he’s locked in.

he would want to make it a romantic and intimate experience for you, but he wouldn’t go all out. he’d take you on a beautiful date before hand and he’d run a nice bath for you after, sweet but not too sweet.

loves foreplay omg don’t get me started.

i headcanon him as a beast in the sheets but on the low he loves slow sensual sex. wants to kiss and lick your entire body, have his face smothered between your legs for as long as possible, rubs his cock between your folds so long he almost cums right then and there before stopping himself. loves the way you whimper for him as his tip glides back and forth against your sensitive clit.

he’s got a cheeky smirk on his face the entire time, even while his eyes flutter shut as he slides his cock between your warm wet walls for the first time.

this might be an odd opportunity but i feel like for your first few times with him he’d really amp up the dirty talk and probably drop it later into the relationship unless you happen to really like it lol. he’d drop himself down so he can speak directly in your ear, telling you how good you’re taking him and how incredible you feel wrapped around his cock between his low groans and thrusts.

look at me trying out new themes!! :D

mdni divider creds: @adornedwithlight so cute :3

[nhmkhnh]

LUXURIOUS. 

PAIRINGS: DOM!GRAYSON X SUB!FEM!READER

WARNING(S): lowercase, explicit content (minors & men dni) 

TAGS: gentle!grayson ;; sugar mommy!grayson ;; size kink ;; strap-on sex (r.receving) ;; voice kink ;; orgasm control ;; marking kink ;; fingering (r.receiving) ;; office sex ;; after care. 

navigation. 

1. grayson met you by accident at a council party. you weren’t even supposed to be there—just a low-level assistant running errands. but she noticed you. the way your eyes lit up at the chandeliers. the cheap heels you clearly borrowed. the glass of water you clutched instead of wine. she noticed everything.

2. she offered you her coat that night. not because you asked, but because she saw you rubbing your arms at the tram stop, refusing a ride because you didn’t want to trouble her. that was the moment she decided: you’d never need to feel cold again.

3. her money is quiet—but limitless. new phone? already delivered. rent? she bought your whole building. designer heels you only glanced at through a window? in your size, waiting at your door, with a handwritten note:

“wear these for me tonight, sweetheart. i’ll be home late. —g.”

4. grayson is so fucking soft with you. no one believes it. not the cops. not the council. she speaks with steel, commands zaunites and piltovans alike—but she kneels when she takes off your shoes. she kisses your wrist like you’re porcelain. she calls you “my girl” like it’s sacred.

5. she loves watching you eat. like, borderline obsessed. orders you food she knows you love, watches as you take that first bite, always with a smug-ass smile. sometimes she’ll say things like:

“i work too hard for you not to eat like a queen.”

…as she wipes the corner of your mouth with her thumb.

6. possessive sugar mommy af. you post a picture in a cute dress she didn’t buy? you’ll get a message in 3.2 seconds:

“where’d you get that?” you respond, teasing. “a friend gave it to me.” her next reply? “i’ll be over in 20. take it off.”

7. you’re her weakness. one pout, one sigh, one slightly sad text, and she’s leaving meetings early, gun still holstered at her hip, just to hold you in her arms and tuck your head beneath her chin.

8. she spoils you with intention. not just random stuff—she remembers what you say in passing. that childhood candy you mentioned once? she has it imported. you said your old blanket got lost in a move? she commissions an identical one. grayson is detail-oriented as hell.

9. she hates seeing you work too hard. if you have a job she thinks is beneath you, expect her to show up at your workplace one day, lean against the doorframe in her tailored coat, and go:

“pack up. you’re not working here anymore. i already paid your boss to let you go.”

(you pretend to be mad. you’re not.)

10. sugar mommy in the streets, beast in the sheets. you better believe this woman can throw you over her shoulder like it’s nothing and pin your wrists with one hand. she’ll buy you roses and then wreck you on 1,000-thread-count sheets. always rough and reverent.

11. she’s got a whole drawer of lingerie she bought for you. color-coded. lace. silk. she doesn’t make you wear them—she asks with that low voice of hers:

“put this on for me, baby.”

…and you always do.

12. she sometimes brings you to fancy events on her arm. the looks people give when grayson, in all her power and elegance, walks in with the prettiest little thing holding onto her bicep like a prized gem?? you love it. she loves it more.

13. grayson smells expensive. tobacco, clean leather, sandalwood, and warm wine. you cling to her coats when she’s gone. you steal her undershirts. she doesn’t mind. she tells you to take whatever you want—

“everything i have is yours, sweetheart.”

14. she sends you voice notes. deep, gravelly ones when she’s working late. “i miss you, little thing.” “don’t wait up.” “touch yourself if you need to—i’ll make it up to you when i’m back.” you play them on loop until she’s home again.

15. you’re the only softness she allows herself. she might be sheriff, might lead with fire and steel—but she melts the moment you crawl into her lap, kiss her throat, and whisper “i missed you.”

grayson would set the whole world on fire to keep you warm.

smut bonus.

1. grayson has a size kink.

she’s taller, broader, stronger—and obsessed with the way you look curled up beneath her.

“look at you… so tiny under me.”

she’ll stretch your legs wide with one hand and use her hips to pin you still, murmuring about how you were “made to be taken care of”—as she grinds slow, deep, and possessive into you.

2. she lives for strap-on sex.

leather harness. thigh holster. her favorite one is thick and curved just right, matching the press of her fingers when she edges you open for it.

“relax, baby. i’m not done spoiling you yet.”

she’ll tease you until you’re begging to be filled—and only then will she sink in, all slow and loving like she’s feeding you wine.

3. her voice when she talks you through orgasms? unholy.

gravelly, low, damn near feral when you’re about to come. she’ll growl against your neck, lips hot and teeth grazing:

“that’s it, baby—let go. give it to me. c’mon, that’s my good girl.”

you always come harder when she talks. she knows it.

4. grayson adores marking you.

hickeys. scratch marks. lipstick on your thighs. bruises shaped like her palms.

and when she takes you out in public the next day, she’ll gently fix your collar to just barely hide the bite on your throat—then smirk when you flinch every time her hand brushes your waist.

5. she loves using her fingers.

thick, experienced hands that always know what to do. grayson can finger you with such maddening control—slow, deep curls that keep you hovering on the edge forever.

“what’s the rush, sweetheart? i’ve got all night… and you belong to me.”

if you beg? she might let you come. might.

6. she’s the type to fuck you in her office.

desk pushed back. coat still on. you bent over the polished wood, panties pushed aside, her hand covering your mouth while she rocks into you from behind.

“quiet now, little thing. you don’t want the whole precinct hearing who this pretty cunt belongs to, do you?”

(spoiler: she wants them to hear.)

7. post-sex aftercare is everything.

grayson kisses every spot she marked. draws you a bath. feeds you fruit from her fingers while you sit on her lap, boneless and blissed out.

“you did so well for me, baby.”

she makes sure you know that even when she fucks you like she owns you—she treasures you like gold.

so obssesed with her 😋 please let this woman make her way into my life please.