#final fantasy type zero

[zhenniguan]

That period where I really liked to add game UI in my art (specifically the health bars haha)

Gabranth has a life bar btw, it's the giant BOSS one!!

[ethernalium]

Ace in FF Brave Exvius

— For @baelthier 😛

[atwistedsamurai]

So this was a long while ago but I mayyyy have managed to add in 3/4 I wanted to and maybe had several documents and a spreadsheet for things as well for a spiral that combines other characters.

I decided on a new project

So I recently replayed FF Type 0 again, and it got me thinking- what if there was a way I could combine a bunch of different final fantasies into Type 0? It’s a continuous spiral, each one has a different outcome. It could be plausible? SO I decided I’m going to try. So far I’ve managed to slip in characters from some other final fantasy games- 7, 8, 9, 13. But I want to add small cameos and little moments with random characters from other games as well. Whether it be a battle with them, or making a small side quest for them, even just a small moment for them to appear. Anything I can do.

I might post the ideas I have so far? If anyone would be interested in this project?

[tealandbrynnstone]

Hey kingdom hearts please don’t give up on ff characters right as we reach 13 and 15's (and type zero's?) turn to appear in the series, especially right as we go into the part of kh that will make it very obvious that it’s related to/taking heavy inspiration from Fabula Nova Crystallis and kh4 is basically re doing versus 13.

[ship-garbage-pile]

A new Agito cadet, Elia had entered Akademia!

A young girl named hailing from Lorcia, she misses her home greatly but finds companionship with the rest of cadets, in particular Ace had helped make her feel the most at home. She also gets along well with Cinque due to also being another heavy weapons user, though she does feel intimidated by Arceia.

She's also childhood friends with Ryid!

[akimojo]

Just finished my first playthrough of type 0

[corviida]

perceive: baby

[reveriebae]

Send Nude?

pairing(s) : Mingi x reader

word count : 2332

summary : you were only kidding, he wasn't.

genre : smut

warning(s) : Online flirtation → IRL hookup, Mirror fingering, Vein kink (explicit worship), Cock worship, Dirty talk that will get you pregnant, Ass slapping, Doggy style, Praise + degradation mix, Spit, lube, cum mention, Choking (light), Hair pulling, Marking (handprints, cum inside), Slight overstimulation, After-sex banter & bratty backtalk, Mingi being hot and knowing it. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N : SONG MOTHERFUCKING MINGI, I WANNA SIT ON YOUR FACE TILL YOU CAN'T FUCKING BREATH😤😤

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

It starts with an Instagram story.

Not even a sinful one—well, not explicitly. Just Mingi, shirtless, post-gym, flexing in the mirror like he’s auditioning for an anime reboot of Magic Mike. Traps bulging, abs glistening, hair messy like he just rolled out of bed and into your fantasies.

But it’s the veins. The veins.

His arms look like god personally sculpted them to ruin your life. Thick, pulsing rivers of blood lust crawling from his forearms up to those thick biceps. The kind of veins that scream, "I can hold your legs open and still roll your eyes back with just two fingers."

And the worst part?

You’re mutuals.

You don’t know him, not really. But you’ve exchanged likes. A few meme replies. He once retweeted your selfie with a “👀” and that alone had you contemplating the circumference of his dick.

So when he drops that mirror thirst trap with a casual caption—

“gym got me feelin like a Jojo character today lol”

—you don’t think.

You just type.

"send nude?"

It’s meant to be funny. You’re high on vein kink and zero impulse control. You expect no reply. Maybe a like at most.

Instead...

fixon_n_on has sent you a message.

You blink. Your heart skips. You open it.

@fixon_n_on : you want it from the front or the back?

You almost throw your phone across the room.

You stare at the screen, face hot, mouth dry, thighs not. You're about to reply with something dumb like “LMAO chill I was kidding,” when a photo comes through.

Not a dick pic—he’s smarter than that.

It’s him, again, in the mirror. This time in sweatpants, low enough to show that dangerous V-line. His phone’s in one hand, the other pushing his waistband down just enough to reveal no underwear. His dick’s not out, but you can see the print. And it’s…

Well. Jesus wept.

@fixon_n_on : front. want the other too?

"You’re insane"

"You can’t just do this"

"I’m literally feral now. I hope you’re happy"

@fixon_n_on : send something back then.

I wanna see what I’m working for.

You panic.

But also? You're already halfway to your bedroom, lighting adjusted, camera propped up against your dresser. You pick your best lingerie—black lace, of course—and position yourself kneeling on the bed, arching your back, head turned just enough to show the smirk on your lips.

You send it.

And wait.

It doesn’t take long.

@fixon_n_on : oh you’re a fucking problem, stay like that.

@fixon_n_on : 10 minutes.

"what?"

@fixon_n_on : I’m outside.

Your soul leaves your body. You run to the window like a girl in a teen drama and THERE HE IS. In a hoodie and gray sweats, baseball cap pulled low, looking up at your building.

You open the door in a robe and nothing else.

He doesn’t say anything when you let him in. Just walks straight past you, drops his phone on your counter, and turns to face you like you’re his final exam.

“Thought you were just horny on main,” he mutters, voice low, eyes burning.

You shrug. “You posted that photo. I was just—”

“You were asking for it.”

And then he’s kissing you. Hard, messy, hand gripping the back of your neck while the other pulls at your robe like he owns the rights to it. Tongue sliding past your lips, hips pushing into yours, and God, he’s big. You feel it, even through the layers, pressing into your stomach.

He breaks the kiss only to whisper, “Where’s the bed?”

You nod toward your room, breathless.

He tosses you over his shoulder like it’s nothing.

You barely register the way he throws you on the bed—your robe falls open, lace panties barely covering anything, tits perking up like they know what’s coming. But Mingi’s not in a rush. He kneels behind you, towering in the mirror, eyes roaming every inch of your reflection like you’re his personal slutty art piece.

"Don’t move," he mutters. His voice is deeper now—dangerously low, like sin poured over honey. "Look at yourself. Look how pretty you are when you’re about to get ruined."

You start to turn around, but his palm lands flat on your ass, making your thighs jolt. You gasp.

"Did I stutter?" he growls.

You meet your own eyes in the mirror—wide, flushed, trembling.

Then you see his hand.

Veins. Fucking ropes of them, bulging from his forearm, crawling over the back of his hand like he was engineered in a lab just to wreck lives. He slides his fingers down your back slowly, tracing the curve of your spine, dragging calloused fingertips over your lace waistband and tugging it down with a single curl.

And you swear to God, you moan at the way his forearm flexes doing it.

“S-shit…” you breathe.

He hears that.

“Oh?” Mingi leans down, chest against your back, lips brushing your ear. “You moaning for my veins, baby?”

“Maybe,” you whisper, already breathless.

He smirks. “That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Then you feel it—his fingers, thick and skilled, sliding between your legs. He presses two against your slit, slow and teasing, rubbing over your folds like he’s just admiring the texture. You’re already soaked.

"All this," he says, voice hoarse, "from a fucking photo?"

"All this," you gasp, "from a fucking forearm."

He laughs. He actually laughs, low and cocky, before slowly sliding two fingers inside you.

And fuck—he knows what he’s doing.

Long, deep strokes. Curling just enough to make your legs shake. His other hand grips your thigh, and that’s when you see it—those veins again, tensing as he fucks you with his fingers, his eyes locked on your reflection.

"Touch your tits," he growls. "Wanna see how messy you look for me."

You obey.

Your back arches. His fingers go faster. The sound is obscene—wet and needy—and you're whining now, trying to hold it in, but failing.

“Look at you,” he pants, breath hot against your neck. “My needy little internet girl. You gonna cum just from my fucking hand?”

“I-I—”

“Say it.”

"Y-yes! I’m gonna cum—fuck, Mingi, your hands, your f-fucking veins—"

And then he pulls out.

You scream.

He grins like the menace he is, sucking his fingers clean, his fucking tongue dragging between them like he’s savoring the taste of your defeat.

Then?

Then comes the cock reveal.

Mingi pushes his sweats down and you actually gasp. Like, cartoonishly. Hand over your mouth, eyes wide, legs clenched.

It’s—

Baby.

It’s heavy. Thick. Veins trailing down the shaft like they belong in a goddamn museum. The head flushed deep pink, already leaking, curved just slightly upward like it was designed to hit your g-spot and wreck your life.

“No fucking way,” you whisper.

He wraps his hand around it lazily—more veins flexing in his forearm—and strokes once. Just once. And you feel your pussy throb.

"Yeah," he says, watching your jaw drop. "You're drooling."

You blink, dazed, mouth parted. Mingi’s standing behind you now, one hand gripping his cock lazily, the other on your ass, spreading you open so both of you can see how soaked you are in the mirror.

"Look at this shit," he grunts, dragging his tip over your folds. "Dripping like you were waiting for me. You been thinking about this cock all week, huh?"

"Y-yes," you whimper. “Ever since that fucking mirror selfie—”

He presses the head against your entrance but doesn’t push in. Just teases it. Rubbing circles around your clit with the head, using your wetness like lube, slick sounds making your face heat up.

“You got off to it?” he asks low, his lips brushing your ear. “Did you cum to my pic, baby?”

You nod.

"Uh-uh. Say it."

“I fucking came to it, Mingi. I rubbed my pussy to your arms and your stupid fucking veins—fuck—”

He laughs darkly. "Yeah, you’re sick."

Then—finally—he pushes in.

And Jesus fucking Christ.

Your hands slam against the mirror, breath catching, your whole body jerking forward from the stretch. He fills you like he’s trying to mold his shape into your cunt. Thick, hot, just the right curve—and he doesn’t move for a second.

Just breathes.

"Goddamn," he mutters. “You're tighter than I thought. You tryna milk me already?"

You moan, legs trembling.

Mingi grabs your hair, yanks your head up to force your gaze into the mirror again.

“Nah. You watch this. Watch how I wreck this pretty little pussy.”

He starts thrusting—deep, rough strokes. Slow at first, like he’s letting you feel every fucking inch. The mirror fogs up from your panting, from his filthy mouth in your ear.

"You like that? Huh?"

"Yes—yes, Mingi, fuck!"

"This pussy’s made for me. Look how it sucks me in."

He groans when you clench, dragging his hand from your waist to your front, pressing on your lower belly.

"Feel that?" he growls. "That’s me, baby. That’s my cock inside you. Splitting you open like you asked for it."

You’re babbling now—nonsense, cries, desperate yeses. But Mingi’s not done.

“You wanted it so bad, right? Posting your ass online, sending me slutty pics like a little tease—”

“I wanted you,” you whimper.

“Yeah, you do want me. Want me to fuck your brains out. Want me to make you drool on this mirror like the cock-drunk little whore you are.”

Your legs nearly give out. He catches you, one arm banded around your waist as he pistons into you now, rougher, faster—pure filth slapping against your soaked thighs, the sound disgusting in the best way.

"Say it's mine," he growls.

"It’s yours," you gasp.

"Say you're gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl."

"I—fuck, Mingi—I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum—"

And you do.

You cum hard, back arched, eyes rolling, your body twitching as he fucks you through it with a satisfied grunt.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ soak me.”

He pulls out just long enough to flip you around, throws you on the bed again, and gets on top. He kisses you hard, messy, fingers in your hair, his cock still throbbing.

“You think I’m done with you?” he breathes against your lips.

You’re still catching your breath, legs shaking, mascara smudged, when Mingi pulls you up by the hips and flips you back over like a ragdoll. He drags you to the edge of the bed, feet barely touching the floor, ass high in the air, pussy still dripping.

“You think I’m done with this ass?” he mutters, palm grazing your cheek, fingers flexing like he’s about to commit a crime. “Nah. Not even close.”

You glance back, dazed, lips parted.

And he just grins.

Then—SMACK.

His palm cracks against your ass, loud and sharp. You jolt forward, a choked moan spilling out.

"Fuck—Mingi!"

"Too much?" he asks, rubbing the sting gently with those big, veiny hands. The contrast between pain and softness makes your eyes roll back.

"Not enough," you gasp.

He laughs. Dark. Delighted.

"Filthy little thing. You like getting spanked, huh?"

"Love it."

Another slap. This time harder. And another. His handprint is going to be there for days.

Then he grips both cheeks, spreading them open. He groans at the sight of you.

“God, this pussy’s begging for me.”

He strokes himself once, then lines up—and thrusts all the way in.

No teasing. No build-up. Just ruthless, deep doggystyle.

You scream into the sheets.

“Oh my fucking God—”

“That’s right,” he growls. “Take it. Let me fuck this tight little hole till I break you.”

His rhythm is brutal. Each thrust slams into you with force, your tits bouncing with every movement. You’re whining, moaning, drooling into the pillows—and he fucking loves it.

"You feel that, baby?" he pants. "Feel my cock stretching you out?"

"Yes—yes, Mingi, fuck—so big—"

He leans over you, chest to your back, one hand choking the headboard, the other sliding under to grip your throat. His lips brush your ear.

"You gonna cum again? From getting fucked like a bitch in heat?"

“Yes—fuck, please, I want it—”

He pulls your hair, forcing your head back. His breath is hot and filthy on your neck.

"Want what?"

"I want your cock—I want you to ruin me, please, please—"

"You want me to fuck you dumb?"

"Yes!"

SMACK.

Another hit to your ass—this one meaner. You fucking sob.

“That’s what I thought,” he snarls. “This pussy belongs to me now.”

And then he grabs your hips again, starts fucking you harder—if that’s even possible. You feel every vein, every ridge, every goddamn inch dragging inside you like he was crafted by the devil for the sole purpose of ending you.

You're gone.

Crying out his name. Screaming.

“Cum for me,” he grits. “Fucking cum on this cock, let me feel you lose it.”

And when you finally do—when your body seizes, your orgasm ripping through you so hard your vision blanks—he doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through your orgasm. Keeps pounding, relentless, groaning like a beast.

“Fuck—baby, I’m close—where do you want it?”

"Inside," you gasp. "I want you to fill me, Mingi—please—"

That does it.

He growls, low and feral, and slams into you one final time.

You feel it—hot and deep, his cock twitching inside as he spills everything, his grip bruising your hips. He stays buried there, panting against your back, sweating, hand still on your ass like a trophy.

Silence.

Then—his voice. Hoarse, cocky.

"...My veins really did this to you, huh?"

You’re breathless.

"Fuck your veins, Mingi."

He grins, kisses your back.

"You did."

[sparklingchim]

game on 04 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x oc

word count: 2.6k

tropes: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: shy koo 🤭( he can be pookie at times), jimin being extremely chaotic and stirring drama, thigh squeezes <3, talks about first times n doing it raw 😃

summary: jungkook did expect some interrogation by his friends - just not this type.

a/n: we're back!! a bit more chaotic and sillier!!

masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“How was it to fuck for the first time?”

Jungkook freezes mid-chew.

This guy’s audacity.

Of course. Of course it would be Jimin. The man's allergic to silence. And shame.

Jungkook doesn’t respond right away. Mostly because he’s trying not to throw his drink in Jimin’s face in the middle of a packed BBQ restaurant.

Mingyu's trying not to laugh while Chanyeol’s shaking his head like he doesn’t want to know where this conversation will go.

They’re all squeezed around a hot grill at one of those buzzy downtown spots. Neon lights, tiny stools, smoke clinging to everyone’s clothes. And you’d just gone to the restroom with Karina.

Jimin wasted exactly zero seconds.

“I’ll kill you if you say shit like that in front of her,” Jungkook warns, voice low.

“That’s why I’m asking now when she’s not here, duh.”

Jungkook exhales sharply trough his nose, jaw tight. He could just say whatever. Say something vague and let it go. But it pisses him off how casually Jimin talks about you like that.

“I swear to god –” he starts, but Jimin’s already talking over him.

“Did you cry after?” Jimin asks with a gleam in his eye. “Or wait, did you bust after two minutes?”

Mingyu chuckles beside him. “Jimin's got a death wish.”

Chanyeol huffs out a laugh, shoulders shaking. “If he lunges, I’m not stopping him.”

Jimin’s eyes widen with faux innocent. “What are you guys on about? I mean, you’ve probably been pining after her for so long now. Finally hitting it, you must have lost your mind, no?” he asks. “Was it everything you dreamed about when you put your d-”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook interrupts.

“It’s a genuine question!” Jimin insists. “No judgment here. Could’ve been a quickie for the memories. A warm-up round.”

“A quickie for the memories,” Mingyu repeats, snorting in pure disbelief.

“Yeah! Like, you finally get to sleep with the girl you’ve been obsessed with for months. Brain’s probably short-circuiting. Whole thing’s over before it starts.”

If Jungkook doesn’t keep his breathing in check, there will be blood.

“I’m not telling any of you my business anymore.” Jungkook reaches for his beer, downing a long pull. “Especially not about her. Not like that.”

Even if this whole scenario would be real, it wouldn’t be their business. Wouldn’t be something he’d toss around for laughs between food and cheap beer. You weren’t some hookup story to debrief after a night out.

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “So you didn’t last two minutes?”

Jungkook just stares at him.

Jimin grins, delighted. “That silence is loud.”

“I will literally strangle you with your own hoodie,” Jungkook says flatly.

“Look, I’m just saying,” Jimin goes on, because he loves pain apparently. “With that kind of tension, all that build-up… I figured the second she touched you, it was game over.”

“Bro,” Mingyu coughs. “You want him to kill you.”

“I’m romanticising!” Jimin defends. “The human body can only take so much emotional blue-balling. You don’t think he dreamed about it? Like full cinematic fantasy? Slow-mo? Background music? Montage of hand-holding and then bam, real life?”

Jimin doesn’t know when to shut up. Now he’s gone and put the image in Jungkook’s head – you, laid out pretty and flushed beneath him, hair messy on his pillow, your fingers locked with his while you whisper his name all breathy and soft.

Jungkook presses the cold beer bottle against his temple. This is fine. Everything’s fine. Nothing’s on fire.

Chanyeol speaks, voice amused. “Pretty sure Jimin’s just bitter.”

“Jealous,” Mingyu corrects.

“Both,” Jungkook mutters.

“Aw,” Jimin pouts dramatically. “You’re not gonna tell us anything?”

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head, tone final. “Not a thing.”

He hopes the topic dies there, but of course not. Not when his brain is still glitching with the image of you beneath him, tangled sheets and tangled limbs. A pretty mess. Just for him.

“So... serious, huh?” Jimin nods slowly, but then a cheeky smile curves his lips. “Serious enough to do it raw the first time?”

Mingyu chokes on his drink.

Chanyeol doesn’t even try to get involved. “You’re on your own, man,” he mutters, turning away from Jimin.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Jimin laughs nervously, hands raised like he’s innocent. “It’s a joke! I’m joking!”

“Shut up before I throw a bottle at you.”

“I feel like you wouldn’t react this way if you had fucked raw.”

“You’re fucking dead.” Jungkook stands up. Chair scraping back with enough force to make a point.

And that’s exactly when you and Karina return, both mid-laugh, until you feel the shift in the air and look at the boys confusedly.

“Uh…” Karina blinks. “What’s happening?”

“You’re just in time for Jimin’s funeral,” Chanyeol says, raising his glass like a toast.

“Has the number 2 played a significant role in your life recently, ___?” Jimin asks.

“Am I supposed to be scared?” You glance at Jungkook, asking him for help.

Jungkook waves it off, sitting down. “He’s being weird again.”

“Don’t overthink it. Yes or no?” Jimin raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Uh, no?”

He sighs, dramatically disappointed. “Case closed. I’m done here.”

You slide into your seat next to Jungkook, Karina settling in beside you.

“What did I miss?” you whisper to Jungkook.

He dips his head closer, muttering back, “Just locker room bullshit. You don’t wanna know.”

“Was is gross?”

“Very gross.” Jungkook pats your head, slowly reaching down to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Your brain’s too precious for that.”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitches up anyway.

Chanyeol sighs loudly, leaning back in his chair. “I love this so much,” he declares with a satisfied smile.

You glance over. “What?”

“It just all makes sense now, you know?” He gestures vaguely between Jungkook and you. “Like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.”

Jungkook grins. He looks over at you, but you don’t look up at him. Your gaze is cast downwards, a shy smile creeping up your face. Cute.

Chanyeol pats his chest. “Just makes me really happy in my heart.”

It’s kind of funny, Jungkook thinks. How none of your friends questioned the sudden relationship announcement. They just took it in stride, like it had been a long time coming. Like they’d all just been waiting for the two of you to get your act together.

An unspoken sense of we were wondering when you’d finally admit it to us.

He just hopes the breakup goes down just as easily – like, oh well, they gave it a shot, and now they’re back to being friends, no drama.

“Chanyeol gets too sappy when he’s drunk,” Mingyu says.

“I love seeing people find each other. Makes me so happy.”

Okay, maybe Chanyeol is not gonna take the breakup that well.

You’re definitely gonna have to find a soft way to break it to him when the time comes.

“You have a soft heart,” you say, reciprocating his warm smile.

“You two work. Like, it makes sense. Real yin and yang shit,” he declares with complete sincerity. “I speak from the heart,” he adds, tapping his chest. “From here.” His gaze bounces between Jungkook and you. “Don’t you dare hurt it by breaking up.”

“Damn,” Jungkook mutters. “Pressure’s on.”

Your head turns to him then, a little too fast.

Karina lets out a surprised laugh at Jungkook’s reaction.

“Excuse him, ___,” Mingyu cuts in, eyebrows raised as he side-eyes Jungkook. “He’s new to relationships.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Jungkook quickly defends himself. He stares into your eyes. “You know how I meant it.”

How did he fuck it up so quick?

“I know,” you reply gently, but there’s something sharp in your eyes. Jungkook realises that this your way of telling him to not slip up. To act, pretend properly.

He shifts slightly, more alert now, then reaches for your thigh. His hand lands warm and familiar, fingertips pressing into your skin just enough to coax you closer. You move without hesitation, slotting into the space he makes for you.

“Am I allowed to ask a question?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the quiet.

Jungkook’s head snaps towards him, meeting him with a challenging expression. “You’re on thin fucking ice.”

“Why?” you ask, curiously glancing between the two.

“Your boyfriend’s a little sensitive,” Jimin says, sniffing a little laugh as he teases Jungkook.

Jungkook’s hand around your thigh tightens. His fingers flex, pressing into the curve of your thigh.

“How annoying have you been to Jungkook for him to be so upset?” you ask amused.

“I swear I’m innocent,” Jimin says.

“I’ll kill you.”

You brush your fingers over Jungkook’s hand, gently running them over his arm a little too. You feel the tension in his muscles shift beneath your touch.

“I just wanna know who said I love you first.” Jimin’s voice is annoyingly sweet. “That too much for you too, Jungkook?”

Despite wanting to strangle Jimin, Jungkook feels a wave of nerves rush up at the question. You didn’t rehearse this part. He glances down at you, and you’re already looking up at him with the same wide-eyed helplessness.

“That’s obvious,” Mingyu cuts in confidently.

Is it?

“Jungkook’s too obsessed with ___ to not spill it every single second they spend with each other,” Chanyeol says.

Reasonable, Jungkook thinks.

“Okay, but,” Karina chimes in. “What if they haven’t said it yet?”

“What the fuck?” Chanyeol grimaces like the thought disgusts him.

You start giggling at his expression.

“Be serious,” he goes on, waving a hand. “Have you seen them? They’re literally glued together.”

Karina leans forward across the table, peering at you two. Jungkook follows her gaze, then blinks down at your lap.

His hand is still on your thigh. Your hand is over his. Neither of you move.

Jungkook brushes his thumb over your skin. “We’re a little touchy.”

You play along, all soft smile. “You’re clingy. Which is why you said I love you first.”

“That sounds like me,” Jungkook agrees.

“Seeing Jungkook as a clingy boyfriend was not on my bingo card for this year,” Mingyu remarks.

You lean into Jungkook, resting your head briefly on his shoulder. “He is so clingy. Gets all pouty when I don’t text back within five minutes.”

Jungkook scoffs, squeezing your thigh. “Don’t do too much now,” he muffles into your hair when he turns his head to give you a little peck.

“Anway, this boy doesn’t like to be called cute and clingy too many times. Can’t take it that often. Can’t handle the truth in high doses,” you sigh.

“It’s called maintaining a rep.”

“What’s so bad about being a golden retriever boyfriend?”

“No, I’m fine with being a golden retriever boyfriend,” Jungkook answers. “But,” he adds. “I am a tattooed golden retriever. That’s different.”

Everyone laughs, and Jungkook feels your fingers subtly squeeze his under the table. It’s a bit ridiculous, this whole act, but it’s also weirdly easy. Fun, even. He glances down at you, catching your eyes for a second.

He wouldn’t have done this with anyone but you.

~

“Spill. Now,” you demand when you’re back in your dorm and Karina slipped into her room, leaving Jungkook and you alone in the living room.

“Spill what?” Jungkook asks as he wanders into the tiny kitchen. He starts poking through your cabinets. “For a med student, you sure you just wanna give your body ramyeon? Think that’s the healthiest lifestyle?”

“Not the healthiest but the cheapest,” you shoot back. You close the cabinet before he can open the next one and hop onto the counter in front of him, blocking his path. “Now stop snooping through my sad pantry and tell me what you boys talked about when Karina and I were gone.”

It’s been gnawing at you the entire way home. You’ve been pondering what the boys talked about the entire time. Especially knowing Jimin. Nothing wholesome comes out of his mouth.

“I wasn’t talking about anything.” Jungkook plants his hands on the counter, one on each side of your thighs “Jimin was the one asking bullshit questions.”

“Like?”

“You’re gonna make me repeat it?”

“It was about me too, no? I wanna hear it.”

“I meant it when I said your brain’s too precious for that filth.”

“I’ve heard and seen enough throughout our friendship already. You think I’m fragile now?”

“Not fragile,” he murmurs. “Just selective about what you let into that pretty head. Don’t wanna ruin it.”

“Stop using your charm and tell me.” You draw him closer by the hoodie strings and force him to focus.

“He asked how it was.”

“It?” You blink confused.

“You know. It.” He looks at you pointedly, trying to make you get through his expression. When he realises that his attempt is fruitless, he sighs defeatedly. “Our first time. How our first time went.”

“Ahh,” you hum, the realisation dawning on you. “But why are you acting like this? You’re never this shy when it comes to that stuff.” You tilt your head just a little, catching the exact moment when the tiniest flush blooms across Jungkook’s cheeks, delicate and rosy. “Are you blushing?”

Cute.

It makes something warm flicker in your chest, stupid and soft.

You didn’t realise it could be this easy to make Jungkook blush.

“I’m not,” he mutters, quickly looking to the side.

You giggle, turning his head back to you by grabbing his chin. “How come?”

“’Cause we’re talking about us.”

“I mean, it was obvious they’d ask stuff like that,” you shrug.

“It wasn’t just that.”

“Oh?”

“Jimin went on and asked if we had ever done it raw.”

You let out a little gasp. “That’s freaky.”

Jungkook takes a step back. “You think doing it raw is freaky?”

You assess Jungkook through squinted eyes. “You’ve probably done that before, right? You’re freaky like that.”

“Big yes on being a freak and big no to doing it raw.” He steps back into your space and pokes your side “Lowkey offended you think I’d risk it when I’ve never even been in a proper relationship.”

“I’m proud of you, Koo.” You pat his shoulder. “I deemed you responsible enough for safe sex, but I did have my doubts, I’ll be honest.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I like to fuck but I’m not stupid.”

You hear light footsteps, then your name called out. “___?” Karina peeks around the hallway corner and promptly freezes when she sees you.

“Oh, I – I thought you were in your room,” she stammers, eyes flicking between you and Jungkook. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” She smiles awkwardly, blinking fast.

For a second, you’re confused. Until you realise that you’re perched on the counter, Jungkook between your legs and his arms caging you in.

It hits you then, how intimate this looks. Like you’re actually a couple caught in the middle of something. Even if Jungkook and you weren’t trying to pretend.

“It’s okay,” you reassure.

Jungkook draws back, hands dropping. “I was about to leave anyway.”

“Oh, no! Don’t leave! Stay! I was just – I don’t even know – but please don’t leave.”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook laughs, already moving toward the door.

You hop off the counter and trot after him, catching Karina mouthing a panicked I’m so sorry at you before she retreats into her room and shuts the door.

“She’s going to feel bad about this for the rest of the week,” you tell him.

“Tell her even though I am obsessed with you, I wasn’t about to take you in the kitchen while she’s at home.”

“You’re not freaky like that?” you tease.

Jungkook short-circuits for a moment, momentarily even stares at your lips, before snapping back to his usual, cocky self.

“Wanna find out?”

It takes you all of ten seconds to wish him a dry good night and shove him out of your apartment.

“Can’t wait to see you at my parents’ this weekend and introduce you as my girlfriend!” he calls out from the hallway.

[nottswitch]

i miss drummer!mattheo

꒰ drummer!mattheo gets an ‘i miss you’ text from you ꒱

cw: 18+ mdni, masturbation (m), nudes, cursing, mentions of smoking

a/n: you just sent this, and i immediately got the idea. missed writing for this chaotic slutty man too, so i hope you enjoy this little thing i came up with !! <3

⋆˚꩜｡

if mattheo cared, it would have been embarrassing, how quickly you can turn him on with a simple ‘i miss you’ while he’s all alone on tour, in a dimly lit hotel room. but he didn’t. the guys were all off somewhere with girls that usually clung to the band after the show; not him, though. perched on a windowsill, letting the smoke from his cigarette drift away into the crack in the window, he stared at the city laid out below.

paris. beautiful, brightly lit, alive. but he didn’t feel like he was. touring had been delightful, truly – deafening crowds every evening, his muscles pleasantly aching after two hours spent behind his drum set. but in the silence of the night, when the only sound around him was his own breathing, he missed you too. a lot.

he stared at the screen for a few seconds before his fingers quickly found the keyboard.

‘ft now?’

‘sorry babe, i’m with the girls :( still miss you tho!’

fuck. mattheo groaned, tightly clutching the phone until his knuckles turned white. he was already anticipating the call, he was already half-hard under his sweats… before he fathomed the idea of not being able to see you tonight, another notification came in. not expecting much, he opened the text, and next thing he knew, he was staring at your beautiful body, the one he’d been craving like a madman lately… completely naked.

‘have fun babe! love you’

you little tease. what an absolute devil you were, but god, he was ready to sin for you any time. barely able to type out a ‘love you more’, mattheo carelessly threw the unfinished cigarette into the window and moved to the bed, impatiently tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. his cock throbbed in his hand as he practically threw himself onto the mattress, his hungry eyes zeroed in on your naked chest. those tits, fuck… he wished nothing more than to have one in his mouth right now, and the other one against his palm.

mattheo started stroking himself, and he duly tried to go slow at first, wanting to savour the moment of pretend closeness. but with the way your tits were pressed together just right, and the skin of your neck looked so damn inviting, just begging for him to bite into it… he knew he wouldn’t be able to last. his hips rutted into his fist, his cock easily gliding back and forth with his precum nearly dripping all over his fingers. ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous what you could do to him even from miles away, but god, it felt better and better each time.

mattheo gripped his length tighter as a loud moan escaped his lips. he couldn’t care less about the room next door, where his temporary neighbours could probably hear everything he was doing to himself. he only cared about your hips and waist, all bare and on display for him on the screen of his phone. he imagined coming back from the tour, finding you waiting for him in your bed, looking exactly like you did in the picture. he would push you back, press his heated body flush against yours and just take, take, take until the only word you remembered would be his name. he’d make you scream and cry from pleasure, he’d mark you up wherever his lips and hands could reach, he’d–

“ahh, fuuuck!!!”

he couldn’t hold back the sound, it simply tore from deep in his chest as he came, thick spurts of his release landing on his abs, his sides, dripping onto the hotel sheets. mattheo laid there for a moment, catching his laboured breath, his mind still reeling from the fantasies he was so absorbed in just seconds ago. finally, he found some strength in him to lift up his hand and snap a picture of his body, white cum covering his stomach, his still stiff and flushed cock resting in the mess he made of himself.

‘had fun, darling. can’t wait to come back’

au. more.

[zhenniguan]

The Blue Ardyn is a lie.

He was red all along.

I just re-colored him on Photoshop OTL

I really wanted a red vs blue theme going on...

Here's a concept sketch of Blue Ardyn along with a Red Mage one and a chocobo themed one...

[redbuddi]

The "Isekai about extremely mundane things" subgenre has successfully made me obsessed with a trope I would normally have zero interest in. The only problem is that a lot of them have the character gradually become the world's savior, sometimes not even through the mundane interest! I'm tired of that. I don't wanna see a guy save the world. I wanna see a guy make new kinds of beer with otherworldly barley. I wanna see a guy use crushed up magic crystals for blown glass. I wanna see a guy figure out how to build a self-sustaining community in a once thought unlivable wasteland. I wanna see a guy combat fantasy global warming. I wanna see a guy try to fairly manage a small village in a vast kingdom full of exploitative laws. I wanna see a guy carefully cultivating magic flowers and pressing their petals for perfumes. I wanna see a guy reinvent flushable toilets. I wanna see a guy weave textiles using thread from giant sentient silkworms. I wanna see a guy create new fashion trends with enchanted clothing. I wanna see a guy carefully designing, protyping, and crafting custom mobility aids, with entire arcs dedicated to the creation of each one. I wanna see a guy work at fantasy Amazon and create labor unions. I wanna see a guy make delightful and affordable toys for the children of commoners. I wanna see a guy reinvent a bicycle for the sole purpose of performing kamishibai, a form of Japanese puppetry popularized in the aftermath of WW2 where a travelling performer would affix a stage to their bike and perform stories using small paper puppets on sticks. I wanna see a guy finally kill a once thought unkillable monster and then figure out the best way to properly skin and butcher it, complete with breakdowns on the properties and quality of its organs, bones, hide, and cuts of meat. I wanna see a guy reinvent comic books and print them cheaply and watch as the art community splits between those who are excited to try out this new medium and those who only want to work for the nobility and find this new trend distasteful. I wanna see a guy become a reporter and travel around taking interviews during a large-scale civil war within the kingdom. I wanna see a guy try to recreate the periodic table using elements that exist in this magic world, constantly being blindsided by things like how iron doesn't work exactly how it's supposed to by earth standards and try to figure out why. I wanna see a guy incorporate modern medical practices with magic healing to create a new and far more effective type of doctors. I wanna see a guy start a maid service by reinventing modern cleaning products and creating a new system where maids are hired through a third party instead of being hired directly to various households, helping to combat the abuse of maids that is often swept under the rug (pun not intended.) I wanna see a guy create fantasy denim.

[yanderemommabean]

Please delete this if ramblings like this aren’t allowed, but I just got back from my monthly massage and as per usual my brain was zeroed in on the mental image of a yandere massage therapist. Especially with how willingly I always give in to whatever they do. Take off my pants? Okay, sure. You keep grabbing my ass? Yeah, that checks out. Spent the last five minutes just rubbing my hips and thighs? Yup, if you say so. There’s very little they could do that would convince me I should speak up and stop them.

(Disclaimer I was not at all weird to the actual massage therapist. She is a very nice woman and was very professional about the whole affair, and I behaved accordingly. Any and all yandere fantasies were kept to myself.)

And even if it wasn’t the massage therapist themself. A yandere finding out I had an appointment and paying off the staff to let them quietly slip in with them when I’m face down and can’t see anything and they record the entire thing for… later use. Gives them a bonus if they stretch me out in ways they normally wouldn’t so they can get a better view. Not like I’d know any better, right?

I know this is more mundane than most of your stuff, but just. I needed to get the vision out there somewhere. And if it’s exclusively in your asks. So be it.

These types of rants and rambles are absolutely welcome ❤️

God…picturing a massage therapist who slowly urges you to allow them to finger you…slowly slipping their fingers inside to the last knuckle, curling them while shushing you and telling you to take deep breaths…

Obsessed with how you gasp and try to hide your little moans as they quicken their hand, biting their lip as they see how you blush and try not to rock back for more. (Why? Why won’t you let yourself feel this bliss? How cute. You think it’s wrong of you, don’t you? That just means they can be a bit of a bully next ❤️.)

Ugh. Self indulgent but I love when they want to just plant their face between your legs and just gorge themselves on your hole(s). At that point after they’ve fingered into four orgasms, I don’t blame them for finally caving and getting a taste!

-Mommabean

[phantomcomet]

Man, adult toy stores in SW must be fucking wild. It's the size of a mall just to fit in all the variations found across the galaxy and that's not even accounting for the fantasy based toys. They have over 3000 variations of anatomically correct toys on offer and that's not counting color variations, movement/vibration settings, and material types. There's an entire wing dedicated to different types of lube because body safe means something different to every species. And then kink specific items? You have to account for thousands of body shapes and number of limbs and skin sensitivies. The lingerie department would take up an entire floor of the mall.

And god the warning lables would be massive. There's whole sections of toys that just have a huge flashing sign for "if you're humanoid, do not use this. This will literally kill you." And it's a dick the size of a fucking canon that ejaculates bowling ball size eggs. Or fleshlights that just have: "Do not stick your dick in this, it will snap it off." There's are hazzard warnings everywhere because some species are not compatible without extensive research and accommodations.

And this would be pretty interesting world building to explore but anyway obikin:

I need a mission that brings Anakin and Obi-Wan into a toy mall. Anakin has only ever been with Padme and that's over now, so this is a crash course in sentient sexuality. Obi-Wan is entirely unaffected- been there, seen that, done one of those, ect- while Anakin is going, "what the fuck is that???" He gets jump scared by a tentacle dick that starts doing a mating dance when it senses movement near by. It's taller than he is and looks like it could beat him to death.

Obi-Wan is deeply amused. How could he not be when Anakin is blushing, stuttering over himself every time an employee asks if he needs help or warns him, "that will get stuck and you will end up in the hospital if you try it." Anakin's eyes are huge, darting everywhere, and he can't help but teasing Anakin. He picks a floppy dick with barbs and waves it at Anakin, just to see him scurry around an aisle to get away.

They're searching for a some criminal that slipped inside to hide, so Anakin doesn't have time to really process and explore everything but that doesn't stop him from zeroing in on a stewjon dick. And it's distinctly not like his.

(Pushing my alien genitalia agenda.)

Maybe it's tentacle like or has a knot or has ridges and is a different hue. Maybe it excretes lube or has mutiple shafts and heads. Either way Anakin now realizes that all his fantasies have been ill informed and he has a lot to make up for.

He, of course, becomes obsessed with this toy and must have one. But first, the mission, which ends with Anakin tackling the criminal into a bargain bin full of loose dicks. Anakin gets slapped in the face with a silicon toy and proceeds to pick up the biggest one he can find to bean the guy in the face. Obi-Wan finds them sword fighting with dildos, rolling aroind in a pile, Anakin's face full of rage and determination as he finally gets the upper hand and pins the guy down. He looks up, a dildo held like a knife, and sees Obi-Wan standing there, tears in his eyes, as he proceeds to laugh himself sick. There's tiny dildos in Anakin's hair, some tangled in his robe, pinned beneath his knees. It's the most absurd sight he's ever seen.

Anyway Anakin gets his stewjon dick and uses it all the time. But it's just a substitute for Obi-Wan and hid total obssession with his master's dick. Obi-Wan eventually finds it and finds out. He's dumping droid parts on Anakin's bed because he's told Anakin a hundred times to quit leaving them on the kitchen table and the floor and in the sink, for Force sake. Except Anakin's bed is already covered so he opens a drawer and bam, a huge dick is staring him in the eye.

Anakin walks in while Obi-Wan is staring at it and about throws himself out the window to avoid Obi-Wan'a raises eyebrow and, "Anakin, what is this doing here?"

It ends with Obi-Wan tossing the dildo out the window and Anakin getting the dick of his dreams.

(The dildo falls hundreds of levels before hitting Palpatine in the head and killing him instantly. Total freak accident, so sad, really!)

[ncityprincess]

Forever Home 🏠

Smut | MDNI

WC: 2.7K+

Plot: Long-term couple Johnny and Y/N share a delicious dinner and reminisce about all the good times they’ve shared in their soon-to-be old apartment.

*This couple is from the same universe as Nighttime Routine, the Big three-oh, and the Dad Johnny series so feel free to read those too, but they’re not required reading 🙂‍↔️*

Mentions: dirty talk, oral fixation, breeding kink, strength kink, size kink (come on it’s Johnny)

“Woah!”

Your fiancé did a little happy dance as he tasted the chicken he’d been working on for the past 20 minutes. Tonight, you two were trying a new chicken thigh recipe, and judging by the tall man’s enthusiasm, it was a hit.

“It’s good huh,” You teased, glancing up from your salad prep.

“Here, come try.” Johnny speared a piece of chicken on his fork, blowing away the steam. You paused, eager for a taste test, and bounced over, always up for sampling his cooking.

You savored the perfectly seasoned bite. “Mmm…” you hummed, delighted. The chicken was juicy, and tender, with just the right kick of spice. “Oh my God, this Harissa seasoning? Definitely staying in the rotation.”

Johnny grinned, nodding in agreement as he turned off the stove and started plating the food. Meanwhile, you resumed tossing the salad, whisking together a quick homemade dressing.

Peaceful moments like these made you appreciate the relationship you and Johnny had cultivated. It was the mundane, casual moments that truly warmed your heart the most. Not needing to fill silence with fluff and noise—just enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.

“Red or white tonight, my love,” Johnny asked, interrupting your quiet thoughts.

“Mm, let’s do red tonight.”

After the table was set and you both had everything you needed, you finally sat down to dig in. The two of you engaged in some light conversation, gushing over how good the meal turned out, as well as what types of things you both got up to at work.

“I only had one client call today, so luckily I was finally able to finish cleaning out the hall closet. Thank God for remote work, one less thing we have to do this month.”

“Wooo, you rock babe thank you. That project took way longer than it needed to. How can two people rack up so much junk,” Johnny laughed before taking a bite of salad.

“Well, we had our suitcases, old college junk, your skateboard, my yoga mat, your endless supply of nerdy tech stuff, my totally not out of control shoe collection…We had our whole lives in that closet babe. That, and we’ve already lived in this building for six years. That’s a lot of time to collect a bunch of junk.”

“Well, I for one very much enjoyed accumulating all that junk with you, m’lady. And I can’t wait to collect even more junk with you in our new place.” Johnny punctuated his statement with a heaping bite of chicken.

You shook your head at his silliness. “Wow, how romantic honey. But I’m honestly so ready for our forever home. This market is so volatile,” you pouted. Johnny looked at you with warm eyes, wanting to kiss the pout right off your face…

You both had been house hunting for a lot longer than you had anticipated. Turns out, buying a house wasn’t as simple as they made it seem on HGTV. It wasn’t a straightforward choice between three gorgeous homes, it was sifting through piles of renovation nightmares and out-of-budget fantasies.

Each house was either too small, too outdated, didn’t have enough character, or had too many zeros attached to the price tag. Each viewing left you more disappointed than the last. Johnny, ever the optimist, always assured you that the right one would come along eventually. “What’s meant for us can’t skip us, baby.”

After dinner, you continued your normal routine of washing the dishes and putting the leftovers away. The faint smell of chicken and spices lightly lingered in the air. The calming energy of the kitchen filled you with a sense of peace.

“Oh, by the way, I picked up a little something from your favorite bakery on the way home. Check the fridge.” Johnny nodded toward the refrigerator before sitting back down. Even though your tummy was stuffed, your ears perked up at the thought of your favorite treat patiently waiting for you.

Johnny smiled fondly at the way you skipped toward the fridge and all but broke the door off its hinges to retrieve the dessert. You grabbed two spoons and plopped down onto Johnny’s empty lap. His strong hands moved to massage your hips and upper thighs while you opened the pink dessert box, eager to dig in.

But to your surprise and mild disappointment, it wasn't your delicious strawberry cheesecake, but instead, a silver key that you had never seen before. The key sparkled beautifully under the overhead light.

You stared at the box dumbfounded, turning to look at Johnny. His eyes held lighthearted mischief and he chuckled yet again, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked gently against your ear.

“…not my favorite strawberry cheesecake in the whole wide world?”

“Remember the place we looked at a few weeks back? The one we had our hearts set on, but another family placed a higher bid? Turns out their offer fell through. The house is ours, baby. We move in at the end of the month.”

The realization finally hit and you squealed, wrapping your arms around your lover’s neck. “You mean the one with the gorgeous sunroom and the little koi fish pond!?”

Johnny squeezed your hip. “Uh-huh, that’s the one. The one with just enough space to get started on that family we’ve always wanted. It all worked out perfectly baby.”

“Oh honey, I love you so much. Thank you! I can’t believe we’re gonna be homeowners!” You peppered a million smooches all over Johnny’s face, overcome with the joy of what the next chapter will bring.

“I love you. I’m so lucky to be able to experience this moment with you.”

You nuzzled yourself deeper into Johnny, suddenly feeling sentimental. “We’ve shared so many memories in this little apartment. It’s kind of bittersweet to be leaving”

“Yeah, we sure have…remember the time you flooded the bathroom. Maintenance was pisssssed,” Johnny teased.

You gasped and lightly pressed your pointer finger into his chest. “Well, do you remember the time you burned our Thanksgiving turkey?! We had to leave our windows open in the dead of winter to air out the smoke,” you teased right back.

“How could I forget, my mom never lets me live that one down.” You laughed and ran your hands through his silky strands absentmindedly.

“Remember when we got that terrible snowstorm that knocked the power out of the whole city? We were snowed in for days, and had to snuggle for warmth.”

“Goodness, I swore my fingers and toes were going to fall off,” you reminisced with a light laugh. “The electric bill was cheaper that month, but at what cost?”

You both chuckled at the memory, the glow of shared experience warming the space between you. The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft hum of the dishwasher.

Johnny’s gaze lingered on you, a quiet contentment settling over him. The longer he sat there, the more he became aware of how warm your body felt pressed against his. The memory of huddling for warmth now had a different meaning — not out of necessity, but out of comfort. He liked the way you instinctively nuzzled into him every so often, your soft curves fitting perfectly against his body.

His fingers traced idle patterns along your side, as though savoring the present moment. You felt the subtle shift in his energy, his touch growing more intentional, lingering.

“What kind of memories do you wanna make in the new house baby?”

Something about the way the tone of his voice hit your most sensitive parts lets you know that the energy of the moment was about to shift.

“Hm,” you pondered, letting the statement linger in the air.

Johnny wasted no time letting you know where his mind was at. “Because I think I wanna make some really dirty memories in our new bedroom. What do you think?” His hand slid up the front of your soft stomach, making you squirm.

“I guess we could make that happen. But who says we have to wait till we get to the new house?”

Johnny looked down at you pleasantly stunned, while your eyes held sensual mischief.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh Missy? You gonna be my bold girl tonight?”

You answered his question with a kiss on his pillowy lips, letting out a gentle moan when he pressed his tongue against yours. Johnny deepened the kiss and placed a strong hand on the back of your neck. You fought the urge to get on your knees right under the dinner table and get to work.

“Baby. Take me. To bed,” you breathed out in between kisses. Those were the magic words Johnny needed to hear.

“Say less.”

Johnny pushed the chair back and gathered you into his arms, making a beeline for the bedroom. You squealed as he tossed you back onto the bed, taking your breath away in the best way possible.

You gathered your bearings and flipped onto your hands and knees, crawling to where Johnny stood at the foot of the bed. You pawed at his sweatpants, silently gesturing him to pull them down and reveal himself to you. He smirked down at you and gladly fulfilled your request.

“You gonna suck me off real good baby? Huh?” You nodded and took his half-erect member into your hands. You began to stroke him slowly, closing your eyes in pleasure when he let out a guttural groan. Johnny gently rocked his hips against your hand a few times, throwing his head back in relief.

Your hand roamed along the length of his cock, and you admired how warm and muscular it felt against your hand. Your mouth watered at the thought of feeling the heaviness of him against your tongue.

You couldn’t wait any longer and bent forward to take Johnny into your mouth. “F-uck baby that’s it,” he stuttered out. His affirming words encouraged you to give him the best head you could muster at the moment.

You let your tongue swirl around his tip for a few more moments before taking a deep breath through your nose. You took his length deeper into your throat, the action making you gag and produce little messy slivers of saliva. Johnny bit down on his bottom lip and gently pet the top of your head as if to say, good girl.

It brought you so much pleasure to satisfy your man like this. He always poured so much love and attention into you, and this was one of your favorite ways to pour it back into him. Each of his grunts and groans filled you up with exhilarating pride.

You wrapped your fist around the bottom of his shaft while you let your mouth do the rest of the work, suctioning and brushing your lips against him. Your back was fully arched, and you swore you were getting more wet by the minute…

Johnny took one last look into your wide, lust-filled eyes that were silently begging for more praise. His hips stuttered insatiably, then he pulled out of your mouth completely. Entranced and reeling, you sat back onto your heels and pouted up at him. Already fucked out and needy.

“Don’t look at me like that. You were gonna make me blow, woman.”

“Yeah well that was kinda the point, buddy.” You wiped the residual saliva and salty precum from your lips breathlessly, proud of your literal handiwork.

“Calling me buddy while my dick is out is crazy.”

“Ok John, just fuck me already please, and thank you,” you whined, growing uncomfortable at the way your panties stuck to your dripping pussy.

Johnny grinned, stepping out of his sweatpants completely and tossing his shirt over his head. “That can be arranged.”

Johnny grabbed your ankle and yanked you closer to him, peeling your tiny pajama set and panties off. You lay underneath his looming figure, feeling submissive and completely at home all at the same time.

This was the man you were going to spend the rest of forever with.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, pretty girl?” Johnny slowly parted your thighs, bringing you back into the moment.

“How much I love doing life with you,” you answered sincerely.

Johnny’s heart swelled, and he pressed an affectionate kiss against the arch of your foot. He took his throbbing length in his hand and slid it against your slippery folds. You let out a soft sigh, bucking your hips greedily. Your body was more than ready to take him in.

He finally slipped into you, letting his jaw drop in sweet relief. “Agh, fuckin’ love you so much, babe. You don’t even know.”

“I do,” you quipped, wrapping your legs around his midsection. You arched your pelvis up against his, letting him get as deep inside you as possible.

“Do you though,” Johnny teased, building up a nice steady rhythm. He loved the way your needy hands traveled up the front of your body to grab onto your bouncing boobs.

“Mmm, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” you moaned with a twinkle in your eye, enjoying the way his tip kissed your walls. Johnny shoved your hot body down onto his dick with each harsh thrust.

You always loved how athletic and strong Johnny was. He never made a big deal about it, but his natural athleticism always came out in the bedroom. He was so sweet and gentle with you normally, but you loved being tossed into whatever position and going along for the ride.

Johnny gently caressed your cheek, admiring your gorgeous, flushed face and the way it displayed a look of pleasure. The small, but romantic gesture juxtaposed the way his hips crashed into yours.

Something indescribable washed over you as Johnny brushed his thumb against your soft lips. You were overcome with erotic feelings and eagerly took the thick digit into your mouth, closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

You held onto his wrist with both hands as you moaned around his thumb, letting your tongue swirl around it like you did with his cock earlier.

Johnny thought you looked picturesque like this. He didn’t know how he got blessed with someone as gorgeous as you, but he thanked every single higher power known to man.

He silently wished he could capture this beautiful moment with his film camera, but nothing could ever truly capture how stunning you were like his own two eyes. You looked up at him with a half-lidded gaze, the seductive look making him slightly falter inside of you.

“My pretty baby, always such a good girl. Isn’t that right?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you moaned out in agreement. He made it so easy to be a good girl for him. He gave you everything you wanted and always spoke to you so gently…

“That’s the first thing I wanna do when we move to the new house you know? Wanna fuck you nice and deep. Just like this. Do you want that too?”

Your grip on his hand tightened as your jaw went slack, moaning out a whiny “yes.”

“Wouldn’t it be kind of crazy if I got you pregnant the first night we moved in? Fuck—“ Johnny groaned before taking a strong hold on your hips, picking up the pace to send you both over the edge.

Your breathy moans picked up in time with each harsh snap of Johnny’s hips. “Fuck baby I’m right there,” you moaned desperately, digging your heels into his toned back.

“What do you think will come first: the wedding or the baby? Guess we’ll find out won’t we?”

You were still very much on the pill, both of you agreeing to stay semi-safe until the wedding day. But the sexiness of the fantasy and the way Johnny was talking had you ready to go to the courthouse tomorrow morning.

Johnny slipped his hand in between your bodies to play with your clit, making you finally tip over the edge. You let out the prettiest sounds as you let go, and moments later you heard Johnny let out some deep sounds of his own.

Johnny pulled out and grunted as he tugged his dick a few more times, sprinkling milky droplets of cum onto your lower tummy. You both caught your breath and came back down to earth. The hot, steamy atmosphere of the room felt like warm satisfaction on your skin.

You looked down at the residual product of your love on your stomach and scooped some of the liquid onto your pointer finger and into your mouth. Johnny caught the dirty action and groaned, exhausted but still so turned on by you.

“Jeez, babe what’s with all this finger stuff today? You’re killing me.”

You giggled and shrugged, showing off the finger you just licked clean. “You deprived me of my strawberry cheesecake, I needed something sweet. What’s a girl to do?”

A look of remembrance flashed over Johnny’s face and he suddenly sprang out of bed, naked as the day he was born.

“What are you doing, weirdo,” you exclaimed and plopped back against the pillows. You heard faint movements coming from the kitchen, followed by quick footsteps coming back to the bedroom. Johnny emerged from the kitchen with one of your Tupperware containers and two spoons. He jumped in bed next to you and opened the container.

Your beautiful strawberry cheesecake was staring back at you in all of its deliciousness.

The end 💋

[eriace]

strategically affectionate ; kenma kozume

oneshot & fluff ↪ in which y/n gets jealous of kenma’s new game and decides to distract him by climbing into his lap—without admitting he’s jealous, of course. kenma sees right through him. ↷ kenma kozume ; haikyuu ( ft. male reader )

↳ an order of iced chai latte from anonymous in the comeback cafe event !

KENMA HAD BEEN playing that new RPG for three days now.

Three days of glowing screens, clacking buttons, soft mutters about loot drops and boss patterns—and almost zero attention spared for y/n, who was currently slumped sideways on the couch, watching Kenma’s expression twitch ever-so-slightly as he grinded through another level.

Y/n had tried everything.

Snarky comments.

Stretching just a little too dramatically nearby.

Loudly not caring about the game.

Even bringing him snacks.

Kenma accepted them with a quiet “thanks” and a brief glance, then turned back to his screen like he was married to the controller.

It was getting ridiculous.

Y/n narrowed his eyes at the back of Kenma’s head. His boyfriend wasn’t doing anything wrong technically—but come on. How was he supposed to compete with a stupid fantasy world when he was literally right here?

And okay—maybe he was being childish.

Maybe he was jealous.

But he absolutely refused to admit it.

So instead, he came up with a new strategy.

With the grace of a cat and the dramatic flair of a man who hadn’t been touched in three hours, y/n flopped onto the couch, shuffled closer, and without warning, laid his head right in Kenma’s lap.

Kenma didn’t jump, but he did pause mid-combo.

“You good?” he asked, eyes still on the screen.

“Yep.”

“…Need something?”

“Nope.”

Kenma finally looked down. Y/n was sprawled against his thighs, arms folded stubbornly across his chest, looking at the TV like it had personally offended him.

Kenma blinked slowly.

“…You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing.”

“The ‘I’m not jealous but I’m going to passive-aggressively become your human lap blanket’ thing.”

Y/n’s face burned. “I’m not jealous.”

Kenma raised a brow. “You literally just growled at my character’s party member.”

“He kept healing you.”

“That’s his job.”

Y/n muttered something incoherent and face-planted deeper into Kenma’s hoodie.

Kenma sighed—then reached down and gently began threading his fingers through y/n’s hair.

It was unfair how fast y/n melted.

Kenma’s voice was soft now. “You know I like spending time with you, right?”

Y/n grunted. “Yeah, but you also like your pixelated sword wife.”

Kenma chuckled, hand still moving lazily through his hair. “She’s not my type. Too dramatic.”

Y/n tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “I can be dramatic.”

“Yeah, but you’re also real.” Kenma smiled down at him. “And warm.”

There was a pause.

Then y/n mumbled, “Maybe I was a little jealous.”

“Just a little?”

“Okay, a lot. Shut up.”

Kenma laughed, finally setting his controller down. He leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head.

“I was gonna stop after this level anyway.”

Y/n perked up immediately. “Really?”

Kenma nodded. “Yeah. Thought I could spend the rest of the night with my very needy, very dramatic boyfriend.”

Y/n’s heart skipped. “…I’m not that needy.”

“You’re in my lap and growling at NPCs.”

“…Fair.”

Kenma smiled again, warm and patient. “You could’ve just said you missed me, you know.”

Y/n shrugged, eyes closed now. “Nah. This was more effective.”

And he had to admit—when Kenma’s hand never left his hair, and the TV eventually dimmed into silence, it really was.

© eriace ;; don’t repost my works.