#Blogs for pet foods company

[yodoggo]

YoDoggo pet foods | AAFCO fresh dog food Singapore

Looking for the best pet food options for your furry friend? Check out YoDoggo, the ultimate destination for fresh and nutritious dog food in Singapore! With AAFCO-approved recipes and a commitment to quality, YoDoggo is the perfect choice for pet owners who want only the best for their beloved dogs.To read more, visit www.yodoggo.com/blog/

[lesbiten]

honestly starting to believe that people who think vets are being sponsored by pet food companies to sell you kibble and "know that kibble is actually terrible for your pet!11!!1!" but "care more about money than proper nutrition" shouldn't own pets

[yuujispinkhair]

The Summoning

Sukuna is the King of Curses, a God, an almighty being who answers to no one. But why does it feel like some divine force is pulling him towards you? -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @lucifers-baby-girl requested the song "The Summoning" by Sleep Token.

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1k Warnings: 18+, implied sexual intercourse, but no explicit descriptions. Dub-con at first (Sukuna is the King of Curses and orders Reader to give herself to him. But they gradually develop a loving relationship.) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

He doesn't know what it is that makes him come back over and over again to this small hut in the middle of the forest. He stumbled upon it weeks ago after burning down a village nearby. On his way back to his temple, he found you. You stared at him with wide eyes before you fell to your knees and greeted him respectfully, inquiring how you could serve the great Sukuna-Sama.

And he grinned when he pulled you up and told you exactly how he wanted you to serve your King. There was fear in your eyes, but you gave yourself to him obediently, leading him into your bedroom, slipping out of your clothes, and offering your warm, soft body to him.

He came back to you two days later. And again and again, he keeps coming back.

It's like he is a hunter following a trail of blood that leads him to his prey. And maybe this is quite fitting because he is a hunter, and you, as small and weak as you are next to his huge figure, can only be seen as prey. So fragile in his four muscular arms, so helpless under his heavy body. But why is it then that he feels as if you hold a power over him he never experienced before?

Why does he come here almost every night? Why is he restless when he cannot make it to your hut because he is too busy? Why does he seek your company? Why does it feel as if he needs to be close to you?

At first, it was just a rough meeting of bodies. It was him claiming you, taking what's rightfully his because he is the King of Curses, because he is a God, and he can have whatever and whoever he desires.

But then you asked him if he would like to stay for dinner.

He had laughed, amused by your bravery that you asked the monster to spend more time with you instead of being grateful that he was finished with you and would leave you again.

But he was a man who enjoyed food, and so he stayed and sat there on the floor of your small hut, smirking as he let you serve him the meal you had prepared. To his surprise, it tasted delicious even though it wasn't made of the ingredients he usually consumed.

He let you sit on his lap afterward and petted your hair as if you were a small animal. You didn't flinch when his large hand touched your head. You didn't tremble in fear when his lips trailed over your neck. Not to bite, but to breathe in your scent and to place a possessive kiss on your soft skin.

Maybe he keeps coming back because you are such a mystery to him. Why do you treat him with kindness? Why do you not only willingly offer your body to him but also give him your food and your smiles?

You even hold conversations with him. Another thing Sukuna isn't used to. Uraume is the only one who occasionally talks to him. Really talks to him. Everyone else just grovels before him, asking him for things, wanting something from him. All of them are just begging and praying and getting on his nerves with their demands. A good harvest, protection from their enemies, mercy for their villages. It tires him.

But you hand him a bowl of soup, smile at him and ask, 

"How was your day, Lord Sukuna?"

And he tells you about holding court, about being bored while having to listen to some noblemen trying to get him on their side.

You nod and cock your head, eyeing him curiously, not even shying away from looking directly into all four of his sapphire-colored eyes.

"And did you also do something that brought you joy?"

He blinks before he laughs,

"Being the King of Curses doesn't bring the joy I thought it would. But I am having joy right now."

It is true, and the realization haunts him the whole way back to his temple. Is that it? Is that the reason he keeps visiting you? Because he feels something when he is with you?

He tries to keep his distance after this revelation, disturbed by the thought of being somehow dependent on you.

But he only lasts a week before he finds his way back to your small hut. Not feeling like a hunter following a blood trail, but more like a man pulled here by the power of fate. A man guided by some divine force. As if you are summoning him here by a magic he isn't familiar with.

You open the door with a smile, and that smile grows even bigger when he lifts you up and carries you to your bed. Your lips find his before he is able to claim yours.

It's the same again, just like the last time he met you, bodies entangled in a passionate embrace, lips moving against each other, soft groans filling the small room when Sukuna takes you, your tiny hands caressing his muscular back with a gentleness that almost scares him.

He doesn't feel like leaving your bed after you both found completion. Instead, he wraps his arms around you, all four of them, and pulls you against his broad body, laughing softly at how small you look with your face resting on his chest and your small hand tracing the firm muscles on his stomach, giggling when he lets his mouth down there open to flick his tongue over your fingertips.

"I am glad you came back to me, Sukuna. I was worried. I was scared you were injured or something like that."

His chest fills with a strange warmth. He cannot remember anyone ever being worried about him.

"Don't fear, little one. No one can defeat me."

But as the words leave his lips, he knows he isn't speaking the truth. It is right that no army can defeat him. No King, no God holds power over him. But there is a human woman, soft and warm, snuggled against his chest, who somehow touches his soul and holds his heart in her tiny hands. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna thinks he met someone who could bring him to his knees.

This was my first time writing Trueform!Sukuna and I hope you liked it aaaaah!! I just feel like the lyrics fit perfectly for a historical Sukuna story, and since I wanted to add the hunter and prey vibe, Trueform!Sukuna worked the best for me.

Thank you so much for the prompt!! I loved writing this!! Please let me know what you think.

Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!

[hellishjoel]

a visu videre (a sight to see)

4k / pairing: general marcus acacius x lucilla acacius x f!personal attendant

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summary: Before Marcus leaves to lead his army to a distant province, he teaches you how to please his wife, Lucilla, while he’s away - and sees what you’ve learned upon his return. 

warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), porn without plot, threesome (fmf), swearing, size kink, free use, spanking, rough sex, praise & degradation kink with accompanied dirty talk, pet names (marcus uses sweet girl, lucilla uses darling girl), oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstim (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, spitting in the mouth is romantic, inexperienced/virgin!reader, unprotected p in v, reader is described having hair and wears a stola, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n

A/N:  I'm very thankful to @pedgito and her writing of Marcus in little dove! I'm usually a bit hesitant to write new characters whose lore I know literally nothing about, but we all saw those vanity fair exclusives, how could I not! thank you Ali for the encouragement and honoring "fuck it we ball" - graphics made by @saradika-graphics!

You have never lived as a free woman, not until beginning your servitude to General Marcus Acacius and his wife, Lucilla.

Averse to owning slaves, they filled their home with paid servants. From domestics to weapons and armorers, the high-profile family required additional hands.

Their home in the city, a magnificent testament to the General’s success and high status, was a reflection of the family’s opulent wealth and esteemed social standing. Their domus in the city of Rome was a sight to behold, and as a personal attendant, you were entrusted with knowing every nook and cranny. 

From the preference of their foods to their nightly desires, it was your duty to fulfill.

After serving their every need, you could not help but fall in love with the pair who had gifted you a life of freedom and happiness. 

The attraction was immediate despite it feeling forbidden. It was gentle gestures at first. 

After serving a meal to the General in his study, his rough hand felt over the material of your stola, a simple dress in his family’s colors - gold to symbolize his wealth and power, lined with purple to show the high status of his military success. 

“Beautiful,” he muttered in his stolen raspy voice, his eyes gleaming as he took in your figure the belt around your waist provided. 

You felt the warmth of his hand further into the night, allowing you to sit upon his desk as his fingers and mouth worked you to a flourishing orgasm. His fingers were thick, leaving a painful turned pleasure-inducing ache that you didn’t even know was possible. 

“Your cunt is perfect,” he hummed out as he aided you onto his lap in the afterglow, allowing you to curl into his broad chest and strong shoulders. 

The guilt sat deep in your stomach, using you for his pleasure while his wife was just down the hall. 

“Dominus, what of your wife? Will she not be upset?”

Marcus ran his fingers across the sweet skin of your cheek, staring into your innocent eyes. “You will keep my wife company while I lead our army to a distant province. I trust you to pleasure her as I have taught you.” 

You didn’t believe him, not until you were helping Lady Lucilla undress after a long day. She was missing her husband. The long days without him were torturous. Her eyes began to lust over as you bathed her, running a natural sponge and Egyptian cucumber along her skin. 

“Your hands, they are so soft,” she praised, gently clasping her hand in yours. 

Your smile was shy, and your lips slowly parted as she dragged your hand below the bath water, feeling over her bosoms. “Thank you, Matrona,” you whispered breathlessly as she squeezed your hand around her breasts, watching in awe as the simple gesture caused her eyes to fall closed in euphoria. 

You cannot deny you haven’t thought of her beauty. The General and his wife are both undeniably attractive, allure dancing over their skin like little stars. 

After her invitation to join her in the bath, you used what the General taught you with his fingers. It was a little clumsy at first, but she was patient and guided you to where she needed you to be. You gasped as you felt her cunt spasm around your fingers as her body slipped deeper into yours, her head falling onto your shoulder as she gave sweet kisses to your pulse point. 

She insisted she return you the favor the very next night. You laid in their silky sheets and melted in her hold under the candlelight. 

They were perfect opposites; Marcus was strong and rough, whereas Lucilla was gentle and tender. 

You were a guest in her chamber nearly every night the General was gone and stayed until the early morning light. Lucilla would spoon your body against hers, your interlocked fingers resting over your naked body. 

Soon, there was no guilt, only mutual pining. Love swarmed all three of you into a buzz, despite the General away on duty. 

He sends letters to you both, dirty promises he intended to keep upon his return. You made love together in Marcus’ name, while Lucilla affirmed that you had a place in their relationship and nothing would change. 

You both ached in wait for him, an ache that was only soothed by your nights together. And if you were truthful, you liked being used by them. Filling the void of the other on long, lonely nights. 

Day and night, you were hers to use as she pleased.

One night as you cooked her dinner, Lucilla entered the culina and pushed your stola over the curve of your ass. She kneeled and made out with your cunt as you shook in her hold, still attempting to finish her soup. 

“M-My Lady, here?” You squeaked, feeling her palms knead into your ass, feeling the sting of her nails as she took what she needed from you. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you, of your taste,” she whispered before continuing. 

Marcus' arrival was due any day now, only amping up your and Lucilla’s wild imaginations. 

“He’ll be ravenous,” she whispers, fingers intertwined in your hair as you explicitly slurp up her arousal. “Lords,” she gasps, jaw dropping as her head shoots up to watch you eat her pussy in their bed, “please, do that again,” she begs. 

You mimic the small ministration again, curling your fingers deep inside her cunt, feeling her walls pulse with need. 

“My Lady, he will not be able to take his eyes off you.”

“Or you.” She cooes, moaning out your name with little regard to volume. 

The amount of times you’ve prayed to feel Marcus in the intimate ways that Lucilla has is unimaginable. You’ve never felt the feeling of his cock, but Lucilla has described it to you in a way of preparation. 

“We’ll make sure you’re amply wet. It will hurt, but only for a moment, my darling girl.” 

You moan against her cunt, feeling your arousal begin to soak the sheets. 

Heavy boots thud down the hallway, but the both of you are too lost in the pleasure of one another to notice - not even when the door opens. 

“A sight to see.” 

It’s the return of Marcus, both of you gasping - Lucilla’s of excitement and yours of feeling caught. 

Despite Marcus assuring your match, you were still nervous to see him. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to return tonight with your tongue on his wife’s pussy. 

“Meus amor,” Lucilla moaned to Marcus, stroking your hair as you both sat up.  Marcus was still in his armor, a brilliant metal chest plate with Medusa coursing through the front with long hair of slithering snakes sprialing out across the extent of it. 

Lucilla moves to his side, bare naked, her body curving around his own as she holds him in her arms. 

“Lords, have we missed you,” she praises as Marcus’ hand fell low to cup her ass in his large palm. 

“My beautiful wife.” He whispers, kissing her slowly. 

They both turn to you, and you feel the burning sensation that you should leave and allow them to resume their love in peace. Instead, Marcus opens his other arm to you. 

“Let me see you, pretty girl. Come here,” he commands. You fill into the space of his side, all three of you hugging as his hands take claim of both Lucilla and your ass. 

“You’ve taken care of her like I asked?” You’re shocked to see his question is to Lucilla who proudly smiles. 

“She’s been nothing but an angel. She should be nice and ready for you, my love.” Lucilla whispers as she leans up and slowly kisses her husband. Your eyes soften as you watch, laying your head against his shoulder, your warm cheek against his cold armor. It’s a nice contrast compared to the warmth in the room. 

Marcus hums as he deepens the kiss with his wife, watching his tongue slip into her mouth as his fingers slip between her ass and move downward to the slick of her pussy. 

A moment passes and he breaks the kiss, turning to you now and leaning in. 

You’ve never shared a kiss with him, but it’s like you imagined. He’s rougher than Lucilla, needier. Away at war and away from his lovers, his lust for you both pumps through his veins. The course hair of his mustache gristles against your lip, his arm locking you tighter against his hold as you allow him to lead. 

Lords, how can you miss something you’ve never even experienced? 

A gasp enters his mouth as he feels over your pussy, how gloriously wet you are for the both of them. 

“Get on the bed. Now.” 

Lucilla smirks at you and takes your hand in hers, guiding you to the bed. 

He begins to take off his armor, hearing the loud metal clatter to the floor as Lucilla kisses you with reimagined heat. Now that her husband has returned, she showers you with even more affection and praise. 

“How do you want us, Marcus?” Lucilla asks before she begins to kiss down your neck and to your breasts, leaving wet kisses on your nipples before beginning to circle your peaks with her tongue. 

Marcus watches with authority, his dark hair cast with speckles of silver as more and more of his body is shown to you for the first time. Lucilla seems to take notice, moving behind your body and adjusting your position on your knees to face Marcus at the edge of the bed. 

“He’s handsome, wouldn’t you agree?” She whispers into your ear as her hand slips down the front of your body, slowly beginning to make circles around your already twitching clit. You whine weakly, to which Marcus smirks. 

He sheds his undergarments, seeing his tan skin and body littered with old battle scars. 

“You are unscathed? You are not hurt?” You whisper out of care, Marcus cooing softly as he comes closer and cups your cheek in his large hand. You allow the weight of your head into his protective hand, large eyes watching as he coddles you. 

“I’m unhurt, sweet girl. Do you like how Lucilla touches you?” He asks as he strips out of his last garment, your eyes landing on his hard cock that angrily knocks against his lower stomach. The hair around his cock is dark, and all you wish to do is make it sopping wet. 

At the sound of her own name, Lucilla speeds up her touches. You whimper out, your body shuddering into hers as she holds you tight and upright. 

“The General has asked you a question, my dear,” Lucilla encourages. This only probes a faster speed of her fingers and the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. 

“I-I love it, I love it,” you whisper as your head falls back onto her shoulder, Lucilla moaning softly into your ear as she grinds herself against your bare ass for any bit of friction she can get. 

“I think we should allow Marcus to have his way with us. Would you agree, my love?” She whispers to you, her other hand beginning to tweak and pinch at your nipples, only causing you to grow wetter. 

“Fuck,” Marcus admires, “she’s so prone to your touch, Lucilla. You’ve done good.” He praises his wife, only causing her body to shudder against yours. 

“Take us,” you gasp out, desperate eyes meeting his own, “please.” 

Marcus positions you as he pleases, laying you on top of Lucilla and hiking both of you to the edge of the mattress. Your ass lies over hers, your pussies perfectly lined up as Lucilla is pitched up onto her knees and resting her forearms against the bed. 

“First touch for my wife,” Marcus says as he begins to line his tip to her entrance. 

Lucilla twitches at the touch but ultimately shakes her head. 

“Allow it to her, my love. She’s never felt the touch of a man before, and I want her to feel you for the very first time. She’s waited for so long. I want to feel her cum slide down onto my cunt.” 

The couple is so giving, allowing only for a most powerful match in the bedroom where everyone wins. 

“As you wish.” Marcus manhandles your ass above Lucilla, stroking a hand down your lower back and playing with your hair. That is until he fists the ends and cocks your head upright. You hold a breath as your breasts stick to Lucilla’s warm back, feeling his tip prod against your entrance. 

And you’re reminded that Marcus is to take what he wants. 

In one swift thrust, he fills you to the brim. A cry is strangled from the depths of your throat, feeling Marcus pull your hair tighter in his hold. 

“Oh, Gods, holy hell,” you whimper as he groans. Your entire body feels like it is on pins and needles, Lucilla moaning with you as Marcus massages your ass in his greedy hands. 

“Been too fuckin’ long without my girls,” he grunts as he grinds himself into your ass, feeling both you and Lucilla shuffle with his movements. The coarse hair around his cock tickles your clit, Lucilla feeling you jerk at the sensitivity. 

“How do you feel, darling?” Lucilla whispers, turning her head and capturing your distracted lips. 

It’s impossible to string words together, the coursing thump of your walls against his protruding cock was enough to leave you mute in pleasure. 

Your gasp enters the room as Marcus strikes his hand down onto your ass, quick to massage the plush flesh under his hold. He was so different from his wife, but this pleasure of rough desperation sprouted a new flood of arousal to gush around his member. 

“My wife asked you a question,” he pants, keeping himself stationary inside you until you answer. 

“Give her a moment, my love, she’s never felt a cock before.” Lucilla coos as she reaches back around both of your hips, her hand a soothing one compared to the burning print on your other cheek. 

“I-I feel,” you gulp, panting weakly into Lucilla’s ear, “I fear I like it when he n-needs me,” you whisper, to which they both smirk wider. 

“Did you hear that Marcus? She likes being a little whore to your cock.”

Marcus hums appreciatively, the rough hand stroking your ass going to squeeze what was his once more. 

“Knew she’d be a good girl for us.” Marcus reels back his hips, your jaw dropping at the feeling that damn near burns - but you now see what Lucilla was speaking of on your nights together. 

His cock is thick and large, swollen inside of you that allows you to feel every inch of him as he claims your cunt to be his. The ache of being gaping open for him begins to glimmer into pleasure, sweat beginning to coat your body as he quickens his hips over and over again. 

It rocks you deeper into Lucilla, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She moans with you in unison; your pleasure hers, her pleasure yours, and both of your pleasures are Marcus’. 

He begins to groan obscenities to you both as he pushes you to the edge, your fists clenching the bed sheets as pleasure overcomes you. 

“Gods, this cunt is so goddamn tight, breaking this pussy in, makin’ it the shape of my cock,” he grunts as he begins to pound into you at a relentless pace, causing your screams and cries of pleasure to echo through his chamber. 

“This pussy is all ours, right sweet girl?” He hums as he stuffs you full once more, your shaky breaths against Lucilla’s shoulder leaving you breathless. 

“Y-Yes, sir, thank you, thank you,” you pant, all of a sudden falling a bit limp over Lucilla as he eventually slips his cock from your pussy, down to his wife. 

It’s as if life is shot through her body, holding you up with ease as all of her muscles are alerted as his cock spears through her entrance. 

“Christ,” She moans, smirking as her eyes fall close. 

Marcus hums approvingly, beginning to hump into her and watching in delight as your ass slaps against his abdomen with each thrust. 

“Feels so good to be back inside my home, my temple,” he worships her endlessly, holding her hips below yours and keeping her spread and steady. 

“Holy hell,” Lucilla cries out, feeling every single nerve in her body twitch at the feeling of her husband being inside of her once more. 

You bravely turn your head and look over your shoulder, in awe of the sight before you. Marcus’ muscles are all outlined and strong, his arms bulging as you marvel at the thick veins coursing up his forearm. The lewd smacks of your asses against his front are damn near enough to get you off. 

He smirks as he stares at you, only fucking his wife harder and faster. Almost in a look of permission, you bring your fingers up to your mouth and slip them in, suckling around each of your fingers until they are nice and wet. 

With his nod, you reach around Lucilla and begin to circle her clit. She lets out a shocked moan, her eyes widening as you and Marcus work in unison to get her off. Your lips messily meet, your kisses rocked by his thrusts as you begin to circle her faster and faster. 

“That’s it, please, yes!” She cries out, shaking and crumbling before you as she comes down Marcus' length. 

“Don’t stop touchin’ her,” He barks. 

Though he halts his thrusts, your fingers continue over her spasming pearl. She cries out your name and continues to twitch below you, shaking weakly as she comes a second time. You feel the stickiness against your fingers, and you greedily take them in your mouth, moaning softly at the sweet taste. 

“Fuck,” Lucilla whispers as Marcus releases his hold on her and slips out, his cock still hard as a rock and resting against his stomach. 

You both tumble onto the bed, your smile wide as you watch her come down from her euphoric orgasm. 

“She… she hasn’t come yet, Marcus.” Lucilla weakly whispers, crawling up the bed as both you and Marcus share a look. 

“You want me to finish her, my love?” 

Lucilla hums and nods, crawling up to the pillows as she lounges casually, eyes lust over as she watches. 

“You owe her for the many nights she served me. Make her feel as good as you make me feel.” 

Lucilla notes the uncertainty in your face, cooing softly as she strokes her fingers over your face reassuringly. “I want you to have him. It would make me the happiest. Believe me, darling girl.”

Lucilla lays you back in front of the towering Marcus, his eyes raking over your body in a way that makes you nervous. Then he begins to stroke over his messy cock, slick in both of your arousal and his wife’s come. 

“Lie with me?” You ask her weakly. Lucilla and Marcus share a look, to which he shakes his head. 

Lucilla smiles tiredly and kisses your lips softly, one of love and care. “Let him take you fully for the first time. I want to watch him have his way with you.” 

With her encouragement, you face Marcus who steps between your spread legs. Now that it’s just you two, it’s intimidating the way he stares down at you. Stern eyes cast over with desperation, his cock hard and ready to come. 

But he’s more intimate this time, his body caging you in as he leans over you and hovers his face over yours. You nip at your lower lip as his tip nudges against your entrance, nodding softly as your eyes meet his.

He’s slower this time, groaning as your pussy surrounds him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he rocks his hips, feeling them maliciously snap the entirety of his length into you. “Been fantasizing about this, bein’ the first to feel this pussy.”

You nod again and gently cup his cheeks, watching as his eyes soften and stare down at you. Something primal seems to take over; taking you has made him protective, maybe even in a way that claims you. 

You’re his, hers, theirs. 

He takes in each cry you let out as he begins to pound into you repeatedly, your chest swelling as he trails kisses down your neck, suckling each of your nipples into his mouth. Fisting the sheets grounds you, but you note the loss of his focus. You return your hands to his face and he’s there again, fucking you like he owns you, like he loves you. 

And maybe he does. Maybe he loves you like Lucilla does. But it would take more time to chip away at this soldier’s heart. But to be given the chance is something notable. 

His aquiline nose nudges against yours, damn near growling as you lean up and pepper kisses down his jawline and along the coarse hair of his beard. 

“Lucilla wrote how good you feel- fuck, she was right,” he forces out, hearing his voice strangle around his words. He’s close. 

His thumb moves to your clit, ensuring you both finish together. You whimper at the electric contact, gasping as your lips brush against his own. He circles your clit faster, and his hips become more erratic with desperation. 

“Finish inside her, meus amor,” Lucilla encourages, but you’re not sure how that feels. 

Heat slips down your spine as Marcus seems to find a special spot that makes your stomach drop, moaning out for him to please you. 

“I want to feel you, p-please, this feels too good,” you whisper to him, your whines on repeat with each thrust he gives you. 

“Fuck,” he groans out, “you first,” he insists, circling your clit faster faster faster and finally, you come around his cock. Your walls pulse around him, feeling your white cream coat his throbbing cock. 

You fall limp in his hold, your pearl twitching as you feel the aftershocks of your orgasm. It feels so much different with a man; you’re not sure if you love one more than the other, or maybe you love them equally. 

Marcus, in the high of chasing his own orgasm after yours, moves his arms under your body, his hands bracing the top of your shoulders. With this hold, he locks you into place, and it allows him to plow into you unrelentingly. 

“Fuck,” You cry out, feeling every inch of him over and over and over again. You reach blindly up the bed, your fingers extended as Lucilla takes your hand. 

Marcus feverishly kisses you, deep and with need as his tongue slips into your mouth and lines his own with yours. He pulls away but only for a second, spitting into your open mouth before chasing your lips once more. 

In one, two, three more thrusts, he stalls inside of you. A groan enters your mouth as his warmth paints your walls and you feel each spurt as he finishes deep inside your cunt. He groans your name, watching as his face contorts in pleasure.  

All three of you fall into bed together, panting with all energy drained, eyes closed, basking in your shared pleasure. 

That feeling comes over you again as Marcus moves up the bed, lazily kissing his wife and feeling over her skin. 

“Missed you.” He whispers to her. 

You move to stand, your shaky legs nearly giving out beneath you as you collect your clothes scattered on the floor. 

“Where are you going?” They ask in unison, concern lacing over their features. 

“I,” you start weakly, looking between them. “I thought I should return your marital bed. I haven’t slept in mine in ages.” You whisper with a smile. “Really, I insist.”

“Get back in this bed.” Marcus commands, wrapping his arm around his wife who is curled into his side. 

“Please.” Lucilla insists, reaching her hand across Marcus’ chest and keeping it open for you. 

You graciously smile and pad over to the open space on Marcus’ other side, slowly filling in and relaxing in their embrace. 

Lucilla shares a kiss with you as Marcus cradles the back of both of your heads, smiling tiredly as you sigh into her mouth. 

“My girls.” He praises, both you and Lucilla leaning in and sharing a kiss between all three of you. 

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[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: NON IDOL! AU, FEM!READER, CEO!READER, SECRETARY!LEE KNOW, OFFICE SEX, FOOD MENTIONS, ALCOHOL (WINE), FIRST-TIME RELATIONSHIP SEX, PET NAMES (KITTEN, KITTY), DIRTY TALK, DOM! LEE KNOW, SUB! READER, STRONG BOY LINO DOES CARRY READER, DADDY KINK, ORAL (F. REC), GROPING, SPIT, FINGERING, BEGGING, TEASING, PROTECTED SEX, PRAISE, FINGER SUCKING, ALLUDES TO MORE ROUNDS, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Minho wasn’t unaware that the women in his office stared at him like a piece of meat. He passed by them every day when he walked in and heard their whispers. They truly sucked at whispering. And even for such a large company, office gossip got around very quickly. 

     He always ignored them, he didn’t care what they thought about him. He just walked to his desk with two coffees, sat, and got to work. Checking over his boss’s schedules for the day and any notes left on his desk after he left last night. Ears perked up when he heard everyone else greeting their CEO when she walked in. He looked up from his computer as Y/n greeted her employees.

     “Morning Ms. L/n,” He greeted as he stood with her cup of coffee

     “Good morning Mr. Lee,” Y/n smiled and thanked him for the coffee, “Anything important on my schedule today?” 

     Minho grabbed his tablet and coffee, following her into her office, “Just a board meeting after lunch ma’am,” Minho said as he closed her office door behind him.

     “Alright,” Y/n sighed, setting her coffee and bag down on her desk, “Thank you Minho.” Y/n smiled

     Minho nodded and headed back to his desk. Busing himself answering emails and phone calls. It was the weekend so the office wasn’t super busy. Everyone mainly taking it easy till clock out time. Minho was happy the time was flying by today. 

     Around lunch, he heard his phone ping. He turned the screen on a saw a message

Y/n: free tonight?

     Minho smiled as he leaned back in his chair 

Minho: depends. Why are you asking? Y/n: just seeing if you want to come over to mine after we're off for dinner Minho: I’m free Y/n: see you after work then.  Minho: technically, I see you in a few minutes to go over your meeting material  Y/n: 🙄

     It was odd. Talking to his boss, and hiding it from the office. Though it was very easy for them to hide it. They were in their own little world most of the time. But he had some concerns at first. He knew HR would be on his ass if they found out. 

     If it wasn’t for Jisung and Felix setting them up on a blind date, he’d just be her secretary. And if he hadn’t convinced her that it was fine and that they were outside of work. Now almost a few months later they were doing alright. 

     “Hey, Minho!” One of the ladies in the office called. He looked up at her as he set his phone down. Truly, he didn’t know her name. 

     “Yeah?” he asked 

     “If you’re not busy tonight, would you want to grab some drinks with me?” She was so hopeful 

     “I already have plans for tonight,” Minho told her

     “Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time?”

     “No thanks,” Minho stood up and grabbed his tablet and phone before standing up. 

     He didn’t say another word and headed to Y/n’s office. Knocking on the door before walking in.

      Y/n looked up from her computer as he shut the door, offering a smile as he took a seat with a sigh. 

     “You alright?” Y/n asked him

     “Fine,” Minho answered 

     Y/n got up and leaned against her desk in front of him, “Not asking as your boss.”

     “We’re at work,” he reminded her

     “In my office,” Y/n added

     “Just office stuff,” he told her, grabbing her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles, “Got asked out is all.”

     “Someone finally made a move out there?”

     “So you know about the office gossip.”

     “I like knowing things,” Y/n shrugged, “Back to work. We can talk about it more later.”

     Minho rolled his eyes and went over the details for her meeting then walked down to the room with her. Sitting and taking notes. Just doing his job while the meeting ran on. Barely recognizing the meeting had ended until the sound of chairs brought his attention back.

      He locked his tablet and let out a small sigh. Quietly standing from his chair.

     “Email me the meeting notes, would you Minho?” Y/n asked as she picked up her things. 

     “Yes. I’ll send them over as soon as I can,” Minho assured her as they made their way out of the meeting room to their respective desks.

     Working for the next few hours on little things. No company deadlines to meet this month which made everything easier. 

      Minho was about to wrap up for the day when his phone vibrated on the desk

Y/n: Rain check tonight? Minho: something come up? Y/n: Issue with one of the branch managers 🙄 HR wants me to hope on a Zoom meeting to talk about it Minho: that bad the CEO needs to hop on the call? Y/n: We’re still a pretty small company Min. It’s happened before  Minho: How about I cook tonight? Just come over once your meeting is over. Y/n: you cooked last time 😞 Minho: and you loved it so I'll cook again. it’s no big deal.  Y/n: are you sure? Minho: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t Y/n: Okay. thank you min Minho: no problem. I’ll see you after your meeting 

     Minho packed up his stuff and checked on Y/n before leaving for the day. Making his way to the store to pick up a few ingredients before heading home. 

     Taking care of the groceries before hopping in the shower to wash the day off. Putting on a plain t-shirt and some sweats then walking into the kitchen. Putting on a playlist while he cooked. Getting a bit of a head start before Y/n knocked on his door. 

     Minho cleaned off his hands before answering the door. Finding Y/n behind the door, in more house clothes than her business suit she had on at work. 

     “How’d your meeting go?” He asked as she stepped inside.

     “Pain in my ass,” Y/n sighed 

     “That bad?” Minho asked as he closed the door

     “Lot of denying of what he was doing over at the branch and saying he’ll sue,” Y/n sighed as she slipped her shoes off

      “I’m sorry,” Minho sympathized and wrapped her up in his arms. 

     “Just my job,” Y/n sighed, wrapping her arms around him

     “Want some wine while I finish cooking?” he asked

     “Yes please.” 

     Minho led her into the kitchen and poured them both a glass of wine before he went back to cooking. Steering the conversation away from work for the rest of the night ending up on the couch together watching a movie. His arm wrapped around her as she leaned into him. 

     “Thank you for cooking again tonight,” Y/n told him. 

     “Any time,” Minho told her

     Y/n looked up at him and smiled. Minho smiled back and laid his forehead on hers. “Wanna stay the night?” he asked 

     “Want me to stay the night?”

     “Not admitting that.”

     “I’d love to stay the night,” Y/n laughed

     Minho smiled and pulled her closer to him. Y/n smiled and cupped his face in her hands.

     “Can I kiss you?” Minho asked after a moment of silence between them 

     “Thought I told you you didn’t need to ask,” Y/n said

     Minho leaned in, capturing her lips between his. Their lips moved in sync as his hand dropped from her shoulder to her waist. Pulling her just slightly closer to him. 

     Y/n swung her leg over his lap and pulled herself on top of him and he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. 

     Y/n pressed her lips back onto his as he kept a grip on her hips. Hands slipping down to her ass and grinding her against him. Y/n moaned into his mouth as her hands slipped into his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. 

     Minho ran his tongue over her bottom lip before pushing his tongue into her mouth. Y/n pushed her tongue against his, the two muscles dancing together between them before Y/n pulled away to catch her breath.

     Minho attached his lips to her neck, moving one hand from her ass to hold the back of her head. Tilting her head back a bit, allowing himself more room to work with. 

     “All mine,” Minho mumbled against her skin on instinct

     Y/n felt her body heat up as the words passed through her ears. There’d only been a few other times she and Minho had slept together but she’d never heard any possessiveness out of him— even though he warned her he was the possessive type. But the two little words did something to her. 

     “‘m yours,” Y/n moaned. 

     Y/n watched him pull back from her neck and looked up at her. “Yeah? My pretty kitten?” he smiled, watching her face flush ever so slightly 

     “Mhmm,” Y/n answered 

     “Be my girlfriend?” he asked, gently kissing the side of her neck 

     “Yes,” Y/n answered before he pulled her back down to his lips. His tongue found its place in her mouth again. 

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hands crept up her shirt. His warm hands gave her goosebumps. Y/n tipped his head back a bit, deepening the kiss. Minho smiled and dipped his fingers under the band of her bra before he pulled back from her lips to attach them to her neck again. 

     Y/n let out a soft moan as he gently sucked on the skin below her ear. Kissing the mask before moving down and adding another. 

     “Min,” Y/n whined as she pulled up the back of his shirt. 

     “Yeah, kitten?” he asked

     “Bed,” Y/n briefly said

     “Need daddy to pound you into his bed again?” 

     “Mhmm.”

     “Words, kitten.”

     “Yes. Please, Daddy.”

     “Good girl.”

     Minho grabbed her thighs and stood up with her. Y/n quickly wrapped herself around him as he smiled. Walking her to his room down the hall before pinning her down onto the bed. Grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing the material to the side. 

     Y/n smiled at him as he leaned back down and kissed her again. Moving one hand up her shirt again and cupping one of her breasts. Gently massaging the mound as his lips moved in sync with hers. 

     “Min,” Y/n whined against his lips 

     “Making you feel good, kitten?”

     “Mhmm.”

     Minho pulled away from her lips and sat up, “How about you strip for me? Let daddy see you, mhm?”

     Y/n eagerly stripped off her clothing, tossing it elsewhere in the room as her boyfriend watched her, palming his bulge through his gym shorts. Smiling as she laid back flat on the bed. 

     “So obedient,” Minho chuckled as used his free hand to gently rub over her clit as he got down on his stomach. Getting face to face with her cunt. 

     Y/n watched as his hands trailed up her body as he leaned in and tentatively licked her folds. Y/n let out a small moan as she grabbed his hands, guiding them up to her breasts. Feeling his lips wrap around her clit. 

     His hands gripped her breasts as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. Rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as he let his tongue roam over her clit and hole. Teasing her by dipping the tip in before pulling away and sitting up. 

     Y/n watched him sit up a bit before bringing a hand back down to her clit. Two fingers ran between her folds before he leaned down and let a glob of spit fall from his lips and onto her clit. Y/n jerked at the contact before he spread it over her. Dipping one finger into her. 

     Y/n arched her back slightly as he curled his finger up into her. Spreading her legs open more with his other hand. 

     “More, please.” Y/n begged 

     “Greedy kitty needs another finger in her?” Minho laughed yet complied. Pushing a second finger inside her. Feeling her clench around his fingers as he slowly worked her open. Leaning over her body before dipping his head down. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth. 

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his head and lightly tugged on his hair. “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his fingers barely grazed the soft spot inside her.

     Minho chuckled as he lightly bit her nipple before pulling away from her and releasing the bud. He lightly blew on the skin and watched it pebble. Minho smiled and gave the same treatment to the other nipple as his palm pressed against her clit, rubbing the bud ever so slightly. 

     Every single whine was music to Minho’s ears. Picking up his pace as her walls grasped his fingers before he felt her cum coat his fingers. “Good girl,” Minho praised her as she rode out her orgasm. 

     He kissed up her chest to her neck and pulled his fingers out of her. Hovering his fingers over her mouth. Y/n opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers. Cleaning them off before he pulled them out of her mouth with a smile. 

     He leaned over and grabbed a condom from his bedside table before sitting up on his knees. Minho pulled his shorts and boxers down. Y/n watched him spring up from the fabric, red tip leaking with precum. 

     Minho tore open the foil and grabbed the rubber. Tossing the packaging to the side and rolling the rubber down his length. Stroking himself as she held her legs open for him. Chuckling a bit as he lined the tip up at her whole 

     “Imagine if the whole office knew their boss was such a whore for her secretary,” he teased, pushing himself into her fully 

     Y/n moaned as her walls hugged his cock. He grabbed hold of the back of her knees and pushed her legs down more. 

     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned 

     Minho pulled back and started thrusting into her. Starting at a slower pace and gradually picking up. “Been thinking about this all day. Walking into the office in that damned skirt.”

     “Should’ve fucked me— oh fuck— on my desk.” Y/n moaned 

     “Yeah? Want me to bend you over your desk? Fill you up in the morning with my cum instead of bringing you coffee?”

     “Yes!” 

     Minho smiled as he moved one hand down and rolled his thumb over her sensitive clit again. Moans leaving her lips that he was sure his neighbors would complain about later but he didn’t care all too much at the moment. 

     His own moans left him as she squeezed him. Her cunt fluttered around him as he pulled a second orgasm from her. Her body was shaking under him as he picked up speed. Working himself towards his own orgasm. 

     His high hit him just as she came down from hers. Burying himself inside her as his cum filled up the rubber. His hand grabbed onto the sheets under her as he rode out his high. Occasionally thrusting into her before he was finished. 

     “Is it too soon to say I love you?” Minho asked

     “I don't think so,” Y/n said

     Minho leaned down and kissed her for the umpteenth time that night. Though, much slower this time. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he hooked her legs around his waist. “I love you,” Minho mumbled against her lips

     “I love you too,” Y/n mumbled back

     Minho pulled back and looked down at her, “Let me get you cleaned up.”

     “Mhmm was hoping for round two,” Y/n said

     “We’ve got all night. Don't worry about that,” Minho smiled 

     “How about all weekend?” Y/n asked

     “Like that even better.”

     Y/n smiled before he pulled out of her. Getting up to grab a towel, and coming back to clean her up. 

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[daisynik7]

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too. 

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice. 

“How are you, princess?” 

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe. 

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?” 

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead. 

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger. 

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing. 

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.” 

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?” 

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him. 

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off. 

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him. 

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high. 

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round. 

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night. 

[the-raven-lady]

Learning that one of the effects of microdoses of Astartes blood is that it prolongs a regular human’s life is very interesting. It makes me think about Astartes specifically giving a human some of his blood so that they’ll live longer.

An Astartes, an Apothecarion specifically because they can better monitor the effects of their blood and administer it to a regular human, giving small doses of blood to their unaware human companion. It can range from some blood slipped into their everyday coffee or administered by needle with the excuse of it being a booster shot, all of it done in the pursuit of granting you a longer life. He has a particular fondness for you so why shouldn’t you live longer, there is a whole bunch of worthless nobles exceeding their natural lifespan with rejuvenate treatment, so why not his favourite human? Your time together shouldn’t be limited by your frail biology, not when there are means to work around that inconvenient reality. He wants your company, he wants you by his side, he want to see your smile and not have to contemplate just how much longer he‘ll be able to see such a sight. Sure, giving you his blood causes you to become quite ill, but it’ll pass with time, he’s just guaranteeing that you and him will have all the more time to be with one another.

I saved this because I wanted to write for it, and I think I went a little crazy because this was just supposed to be a short drabble.

[Masterlist] [My Ko-Fi]

Pairing: White Scar Apothecary (Sarei Fa) x serf!Reader [gn]

Warnings: Pregnancy mention and eating, nothing much really

Word Count: 1085

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @sleepyfan-blog @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual 

Working as an Apothecarion’s human hand came with many benefits: a comfortable bed, high-quality food, and constant companionship amongst them. It was a stark difference from your time as a serf in the Imperial Palace. The Astartes that came and went rarely paid you any heed then, but now they were downright respectful of your place. Akoghlanlar's ‘assistant’. 

You’ve learned that the White Scars had a civility to their barbarism that legions like the Space Wolves lacked. Their savagery in battle didn’t translate over into downtime. They knew when to be ferocious, and ferocious they could certainly be— razing the battlefield like incarnates of lightning itself— but outside of the hunt they were shockingly tranquil. Importance was placed upon calm discipline.

The Akoghlanlar had found you during one of the Great Khan’s visits to Terra, shuttling resources to and from the Swordstorm. You had entered his domain, and each time you returned with more supplies, you felt his eyes on you. Always watching, ever observant. 

The ‘adoption’ (if you could call it that) into the White Scars had come as a surprise, and you’re still not even sure if it had actually happened in an official capacity, or if the son of the Khan had simply decided right then and there that you were his. The Apothecary, who you would come to know as Sarei, simply handed you a cloth bag containing a uniform too large for you. Confused, you were notified that you would be staying aboard the ship. The event still baffles you to this day.

Compared to Terra, working for the Fifth was far more eventful. The tribal nature of the White Scars made them wary of your presence on the ship as you traveled around, but for the most part, everyone respected your place beside the Akoghlanlar. Sensing your apprehension, Sarei made a point to deliver your meals to you himself. The act was out of the ordinary, but you weren’t the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Over time, you morphed from what felt like a pet into someone you could actually call useful. You were far too small to help Sarei in most of his endeavors, especially repairing his colossal Dreadnought brothers, so the majority of your tasks revolved around cleaning, maintaining stock, and accounting for resources used. It was only when Sarei was asked by one of his brothers to look over his personal serf that you had truly found your niche. 

It was outside of Sarei’s duties as Akoghlanlar to aid baselines, but you had recognized the symptoms of a pregnancy immediately. Nausea, breast tenderness, cravings, fatigue, and most damning, lack of menstruation. The sons of the Khan had been surprised when you spoke it aloud. The poor serf was not.

You had wisely chosen not to ask any questions.

Since, you’ve become the unofficial go-to for the marines aboard the ship when their personal serfs had any troubles. Sarei sourced books on baselines from other medicare, and you started the thirty year journey that landed you where you are.

“I feel like I’ve been seeing you here forever,” an older serf mentioned one day. You had been patching up her arm after she received a sprain from overuse, warning her to let the astartes do the heavy lifting. 

“I feel like I’ve been here forever,” you comment, massaging the swollen forearm of your client, “I’ll be turning fifty soon.”

She gave you a smile, but there was something about it that irked you. “You look really good for fifty.” 

You would have accepted the compliment for what it was, if not for the tense furrow in her brow or flicker of doubt on her face. You play it off with a practiced shrug. After placing her arm into a sling, you sit back and let your patient go, politely waving her off.

Her words didn’t sit right with you, putting a voice to something you had long been wondering yourself, and for days you mulled them over. You caught yourself staring at your reflection from time to time. At most you would place yourself as mid-thirties, but even that had felt like a stretch. Other serfs your age had been slowing down, joints aching and skin less elastic. They began to struggle with their day to day tasks. 

But you remained spritely. 

Today feels no different, standing before a vanity wash station. You run a finger down the skin of your cheek, feeling the texture of the pores and light dusting of hair.  The face in the mirror is nearly unblemished by time. Fifty years, and yet you’ve barely even begun to develop crow’s feet. You shake your head. You really shouldn’t be so concerned with your seemingly superb genetics; you should be grateful you have them in the first place.

Sarei returns to the bay with your lunch, frowning when he sees you staring at yourself again. “Despite your efforts, you will never catch it blinking,” he rumbles, placing the tray of food down onto your human-sized table. 

You huff a laugh and turn to look at him. Thirty years haven’t changed the Akoghlanlar at all; astartes aged gracefully. The lightning bolt scar on his face is the same deep shade of bronze, brown eyes as sharp as ever. The same wrinkles that had been there since the day he found you are present, never deepening. The only change you can find in him is that his tamed beard has grown longer. 

A growl interrupts your thoughts, and you place a hand over your stomach, walking over to the table to sit and eat. The smell of the meat called to you. Sarei watches thoughtfully, wrapping his palm in gauze.

“Did something happen on your way over?” you inquire, gesturing to his hand as you take the first bite. 

Sarei shakes his head. “An old wound that refuses to remain closed.”

You nod and focus your attention on your meal, making sure to get as much gravy as you possibly can on each bite of the tender roast. It helped to mask the iron tang of the gamey meat.

The Akoghlanlar smiles at you fondly, then turns away to look over the accounts of the legion’s gene stock. He cleans off his sidearm as he does so, removing the traces of his blood from the blade. It pleased him to see his assistant looking so well. 

He would tell you why some day, but for now he was simply glad you wouldn’t perish like the last.

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

three's company

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female!reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: you've been sleeping with them both in secret but once that secret’s out they present you an offer you can't refuse.

Warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), smut; fingering, double penetration. Fluff and feels. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Author's note: this took a lot and I don't know why lmao. But I need these two to ruin me. (word count: 2.6k)

Kinktober 2022 masterlist

You know you’ve been walking a fine line over the past few months. Sleeping with two best friends without the other knowing was always going to be a risk. But, that just added to the excitement of it all - even if you did often feel guilty about the situation. 

The way they would shoot you teasing glances behind each other's back, the lingering touches when no one else was looking, it all added to the thrill. 

Truth is, you just couldn’t choose between them. 

You and Bucky started on a mission when the two of you had been stranded in a safe house for three days. It was no secret that you found Bucky attractive, the two of you had been skirting around each other for a while. Flirty comments and touches finally coming to a head when you were alone. You’d spent those three days fucking on every surface of the safe house.

Then there was Steve. 

You and Steve had been through thick and thin together and there was always a mutual fondness but after one too many shots on your part you let your libido get the better of you and you dragged him into the nearest closet where he took you apart in the most delicious way and continued to ever since. 

You’d managed to keep the secret going since they seemed to always be on missions at different times, the two of them rarely getting a chance to spend time with each other until the latest mission. 

Now, it’s just the three of you. A simple mission to gather intel, but it still has you staying overnight in a hotel. The boys have a room to share whilst you have a room to yourself. After a long day you were looking forward to showering, ordering food and just enjoying your own company.

What you didn’t expect was to walk out of the bathroom to find your two super soldiers sitting on the end of your bed. 

“Jesus, do you guys ever knock?” you gasp, hand resting over your beating chest and tugging the towel tighter around yourself, “what are you both doing here?”

You don’t miss the subtle glance they give each other, confusion clearly evident on your face as Steve begins to speak.

“Well, I’m here because after missions there’s usually something I do, we do actually,” he motions to you, “why are you here, Buck?”

You can feel your heart begin to race, they can’t know can they?

“Well, Steve. I’m also here because after missions there’s something that we,” he motions to you as well, “like to do. Want to tell him what that is, doll?”

Shit.

Your mouth runs dry at their words, the floor suddenly much more interesting to look at as you fidget on your feet.

“I, um, I, fuck,” you sigh, deciding it best to rip the bandaid off quickly.

“I’ve been sleeping with both of you and it’s been really fun and I know I should have told you but I really like you both and I couldn’t choose and I understand if you both want to call it quits and if you don’t want to speak to me again I get it, and the longer this went on the harder it was to figure out how to tell you both but that’s no excuse and I get if you’re mad at me and please know I’m sorry,” you blurt, your words streaming out of you without a breath.

Your eyes are anywhere but theirs as you speak and you miss the way they smile at each other before Bucky stands up and heads towards you. By the end of your rant Bucky is in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks to lift your gaze to his. 

Bucky waits for your eyes to meet his before he speaks, “we’re not mad at you, doll.”

The softness in his voice is not what you were expecting, your eyebrows furrowing, “you’re not?”

“We’re not,” Bucky chuckles, placing a quick kiss on your forehead before lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you towards the bed, leading you to sit next to Steve whilst he sits the other side of you.

You dare a quick glance at Steve, “you’re sure you’re not mad?” 

Steve’s smile has your heart fluttering as he lifts a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “I promise, sweetheart.”

“So what happens now?” you question, turning your gaze between the two of them. 

You see Bucky nod slightly at Steve which has you turning your attention back to him. 

“Well, we both really like you too, sweetheart, and neither of us want to give you up…”

“Please don’t make me choose!” you interject, your voice rising slightly in panic.

They both grab a hand and give you a reassuring squeeze before Steve continues, “we’re not going to make you choose,” he chuckles, “we were thinking, if you’re open to it, that we could try it together, the three of us?”

You can’t help the way your mouth falls open, your brain trying to comprehend what he’s just said. They want you… together.

“What do you think, doll? You don’t have to make a decision right now,” Bucky says, your head turning to him at the sound of his voice. 

“I want you both,” the words slip from your lips before you even have a chance to stop them. 

You feel them both squeeze your hands again, relieved grins spreading across their faces which has you giggling slightly before nerves set in again.

“Um, so how does this work exactly?”

You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine when Steve’s large hand touches your thigh. Both of them lean closer into your body, Bucky’s hands cup your face whilst Steve’s hand inches further up your thigh, shifting your towel higher. 

“Just let us do all the work, sweetheart,” Steve whispers against your neck, his lips spreading featherlight kisses against your skin. 

“We’ll make you feel so good,” Bucky promises before leaning in for a soft kiss. 

His lips are hesitant at first and you can tell he’s trying to ease you into this new situation and it makes your heart swell. 

He deepens the kiss once he knows you’re not going to pull away, his metal hand tangling in your hair. You moan into his mouth when he gives a slight tug and he uses that as his opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. 

You get so lost in the kiss you almost forget Steve is pressed up against the other side of you. 

Almost. 

Steve continues to pepper light kisses down your neck and across your shoulder as his hand tugs your towel to the side and he lifts your leg to rest over his thighs, spreading you open. 

You gasp as the cool air hits your soaked folds. They’ve barely begun touching you and you’re already dripping with anticipation. 

Steve’s hand continues to ghost up your thigh as Bucky’s tongue tangles with yours, one of his hands in your hair, the other caressing your cheek. 

You moan into Bucky’s mouth when you feel Steve’s fingers run up your slit, collecting your arousal to rub small circles on your clit. 

“She’s so wet already, Buck,” Steve hums against your neck.

You whimper when Bucky pulls away from your lips, “yeah?” he smirks, watching the way your eyes flutter at the sensation from Steve’s fingers.

“Yeah, maybe you should have a feel,” Steve answers, his free hand grabbing you by the back of the neck to turn your face to him, his lips crashing into yours in a searing kiss.

Steve bites your bottom lip playfully just as Bucky’s fingers begin running up and down your slit before he’s pushing two thick fingers into you. Your head falls back in pleasure, a sighed “fuck” falling from your lips. 

“Feel good, doll?” 

If it wasn’t for the way these two were playing your body to perfection you would have rolled your eyes at his smug tone.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you whimper when his pace quickens. 

You run your hands up their thighs, palming their hard cocks through their sweatpants as they continue to bring you to the edge. They grunt in unison and it has you clenching around Bucky’s fingers.

“Always so tight, doll, should feel how tight she’s squeezing me, Steve.”

“Wanna feel you both,” you pout, squeezing them both. 

“Fuck, gotta give us one first, sweetheart, can you do that for us?”

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you can't get them out. Between Bucky's thick fingers curling just right inside of you and Steve rubbing circles on your clit, you're surprised you've managed to stay upright. 

You make a sound that you don’t recognise as they both speed up in unison. Your breath comes out in shallow pants as you feel the familiar warmth spreading throughout your body.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” Steve coos.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky mirrors.

“Come for us.”

Us. 

That one word has every nerve sparking inside of you. You come with a cry, your eyes scrunching shut, your hands gripping their thighs as they coax you through your orgasm. Whispered praises flutter against the skin of your neck as their fingers slow their paces.

You don’t realise your eyes have fluttered closed until you hear Steve hum. Opening your eyes you almost come again as you watch Steve suck your juices from Bucky’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, more to yourself as you watch Bucky’s eyes darken as he looks at Steve. Steve lets Bucky’s fingers go with a smile before turning his gaze to you.

“You taste so good, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips are connecting with yours. You let him guide you back, sighing against his lips as your back hits the covers.

Steve presses his weight onto you as he deepens the kiss. His tongue dipping into your mouth in time with the filthy grind of his hips against your bare center. 

Moaning into his mouth, you card your fingers through his hair, tugging hard when he bites your lip.

"Quit hogging our girl," you hear Bucky chuckle. Your heart almost stops when you hear him say the word our.

Steve laughs against your lips before reluctantly pulling away. He gets off the bed and your attention is quickly drawn towards Bucky.

Whilst Steve's had your distracted Bucky has undressed himself and you can't help but whimper as he crawls onto the bed beside you. 

"Are you ready to keep going?" He asks softly, lifting your arm and chaining delicate kisses across your skin.

You nod, smiling as he pulls you on top of him, your thighs framing his hips. His metal fingertips smooth up and down your back as he peppers your chest with kisses.

Reaching between your bodies you grasp him in your hand, revelling in the groan that falls past his pretty lips. You sink down on him slowly with a groan of your own. 

"Fuck, I'll never get tired of this," Bucky whispers, pulling your face towards him for a searing kiss. 

You gasp against his lips when you feel a cold liquid hit your other hole.

"Still want us both, doll?" Bucky smirks.

"Fuck, yes," you breathe.

"Here that, Stevie? Gonna make our girl feel so good. You're gonna love how her ass feels."

You hear Steve chuckle behind you as you feel one of his fingers press gently against your hole. 

"I've been wanting to fuck this ass for months, baby," Steve growls as he pushes one and then two fingers into you. 

The two of them are completely enamoured with the way your body responds to them. The way you're clenching around Bucky's cock and Steve's fingers. The way your breath hitches with the slightest movement. 

"Please fuck me," you whimper, a plea for them to move, to stop their sweet torment. 

Bucky pulls you down for a kiss, distracting you from Steve removing his fingers and pushing the head of his cock against your tight hole. 

The three of your groan in unison as Steve pushes in slowly. 

"Jesus, fuck," you hear Steve groan and you can't help but smile against Bucky's lips.

"Oh, do you like that princess?" Bucky teases, his metal hand gripping your jaw softly, "you like knowing how good your tight little holes feel?"

You nod earnestly, a loud moan escaping you as Bucky thrusts up into you.

"Jesus, bit of warning, Bucky," Steve grunts between his teeth, "so fucking tight."

Your eyes meet Bucky's and he shoots you a wink before he's moving again. 

He and Steve fall in a rhythm, pushing and pulling your body along for the ride. All you can do is take it and you fucking love it. 

Bucky hands slide down to hold your waist as Steve wraps one hand around your neck, pulling your back into his chest. 

"So good for us, sweetheart," he whispers in your ear, his hips slapping against your ass. 

You can't respond, there's too much pleasure coursing through every one of your nerves. With every snap, every grind of their hips you can feel yourself reaching the edge.

"Steve, Bucky, I'm so close, feels so good," you manage to cry between moans. You've never felt pleasure like it. Even knowing them separately, it could never prepare you for them together.

"Come on, doll," Bucky encourages, his fingers toying with your nipples, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

"We've got you, sweetheart," Steve follows, his lips against your temple as his hand tightens around your neck, "come for us."

As if your body hung on their every word you feel yourself come undone. Your moans chorused by the whispered praises.

They watch you like you hung every star in the sky. Taking in the way your eyes scrunch shut, the way your mouth hangs open, the way your back arches and your thighs shake.

"Fuck, sweetheart."

"That's it, doll."

You barely hear them as they both reach their end, coming deep inside of you. 

The three of you stay there, trying to catch your breaths. You whine as Steve slowly pulls out of you,, followed by Bucky rolling you gently onto your back.

They move quickly, cleaning themselves up in the bathroom before heading back to your sprawled out body on the bed. Bucky cleans between your legs and Steve gets you under the covers before they crawl in next to you. 

Bucky's behind you, his arm slung over your waist as Steve lays in front of you, his hand stroking over your hair. 

You try your hardest not to overthink it. Trying to let yourself just enjoy the moment. But you can't help but think about what happens next. Will they still want you? Was this just a one time thing? Will they regret it? 

As if they can hear your racing thoughts they both whisper your name. Bucky tightens his grip on your waist and Steve cups your cheek.

"What are you thinking, doll?" Bucky asks.

You take a deep breath before whispering, "what happens now?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart," Steve smiles but it soon drops when he notices your hesitation.

"Hey, we mean it, we want this."

"But what if-"

Steve cuts you off with a gentle kiss, waiting until your body is once again pliant between them

"Shh, we can talk about this in the morning, doll. But know as long as you want this, we want this too."

With their lips against your skin and the weight of their arms around you, you find yourself drifting off to sleep with a smile on your face.

Whew I want them bad! Thank you for reading, as always comments and reblogs are super appreciated ✨🖤

[eddysocs]

Fluff Dialogue Prompts

You may mix and match these prompts with ones on the same or different prompt lists you find on my blog when making requests. Context for the prompt(s) is always welcomed and encouraged, but not required.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

"I can't smile at you, I'm mad."

"Can you sing to me?"

"How do you always know exactly what I need?" "I pay attention."

"I could listen to you all day."

"For me, being happy fortunately coincides with making you happy."

"I don't think I have ever felt safer than in your arms."

"I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger."

"Stop that broody look and come over here."

"You're very lucky I love you."

"Move in with me."

"You should know that I have asthma, just in case you intend on taking my breath away on a regular basis."

"Want to go to a museum with me and make all the paintings jealous with your beauty?"

"I might be an organ donor, but you really shouldn’t take my heart so soon."

"Have I told you I love you yet today?"

"Thank you for everything you do for me."

"You hugged me like your personal pillow."

"Have your eyes always been that dark?"

"Your body feels like home to me."

"If the Gods choose to only give us daughters, then I will gladly have as many as you are willing to give me."

"I will be happy wherever as long as it is by your side."

"What did I do to deserve such a sweet wife?"

"You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know."

"You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply."

"You're always so flirty." "Just with you."

"How long have you had this planned?" "Since the moment I fell in love with you."

"Nothing makes me happier than making you smile."

"I would marry you again in a heartbeat."

"You asked if I have regrets. The answer is no, because somehow, everything I did led me to you."

"I do love you, you know. Even if I'm shit at showing it."

"See, I can play nice sometimes."

"I’ve been in love with you since the day we met."

"Did you just call me (pet name)?"

"Oh, for the love of— come over here and let me fix that."

"I honestly didn’t take you for such a gentleman."

"Your eyes…I get lost in them sometimes."

"He's/She's so pretty I think I’m going to faint."

"You should play with my hair some more."

"Well, hello, sleeping beauty. You fell asleep on me."

"Just say the word. You know I’d do anything for you."

"I heard you liked (thing), so I bought you this."

“You’ve got to go home.” “You are my home.”

"You just have this glow about you."

"I love your laugh."

"You look your cutest like this." "No I don’t, I just woke up." "I know what I said."

"You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me."

"I can keep you company until you fall asleep."

"Can I try some of your food?" "Of course. Open wide."

"This isn’t just a(n) [object], it’s a promise."

"Come back to bed."

"I think my family/friends really liked you. Maybe more than they like me."

"I can’t stop thinking about you."

"Shut up, you love me. Why else would you be here, taking care of me while I hurl into a toilet?"

"Please, never apologise for wanting to be loved."

"Aww, you remembered." "Of course I did."

"This is my boyfriend/girlfriend/fiancé(e)/husband/wife everyone!"

"If you don’t want to spend the night in an empty house, you could always come over to mine."

"One date, that’s all I’m asking for. One night to let me show you how good we could be together.”

"I'll always make time for you."

"Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."

"How about a kiss before I go?"

[howlsofbloodhounds]

subsuming "murder is a worshiper of death" into my headcanon. thank you so much for that howl 🙏

like, i think it's super cute since i don't think reaper and grim have any actual worshipers in their own universe. everyone is just so scared of them they don't want to invoke their names. murder building a little shrine/place of worship for them and leaving offerings for them hnghhhh i'm having noragami flashbacks with yato receiving hiyori's little shrine for him 😭murder as the priestess of death my beloved ❤️

also! i think it'll be super adorable if reaper sometimes just send crows for murder. i don't know if reaper's connection with crows is canonical, but it's such a wonderful detail i love. murder in this headcanon is a crow whisperer, he attracts crows and pets them and leaves them food. sometimes a crow or two has an affectionate gesture for him, and he knows that's from reaper. they cannot interact with each other eye-to-eye or in-person, but this form of communication is just enough.

sorry for spamming you with my crowshipping agenda. i know you're mostly a killer blog, and i really appreciate you indulging me in this cjhsbacjb

Anon, never apologize for talking about the things that make you happy. Idc if I’m mainly a killer blog, I love talking about the other characters and hearing everyone’s thoughts and ideas and interpretations please tell me everything.

Murder as a Priest(ess) of Death is absolutely canon to me I am injecting it into my bloodstream. Murder the crow whisperer is too, and like maybe the rats are how he communicates with Grimm, and like Grimm and Reaper adore Murder because thats one their favorite little mortals.

and sometimes they wish they could do more for murder with nightmare, the jealous possessive self proclaimed King that he is, but Murder is quite content with his altar dedicated to them and his offerings, and the crows and the rats. sometimes its a lot better company than what’s waiting for him in nightmares castle, and what’s waiting for him out in the rest of the multiverse.

Death and Their Angel is the shit.

[prolix-yuy]

Rising Phoenix

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian offers a gift greater than he imagined.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: M, allusions to sexual acts, some heavy petting, flirty banter up the wazoo, minor injury treatment, hand kink, hand worship, plot? Plot. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: Is this an excuse for me to put all of my favorite things about Mando into one story? Yes, yes it is. Including making fun of that tin can man's ridiculous fashion choices.

Takes place after If the Moon Walks Out.

Cross-posted on AO3

I Think of You Series Masterlist

Mando is hiding something from you.

If anyone on the outside was looking in, they’d think the opposite. They might even say he’s being more open than in months. After the bite and subsequent breakdown (which you’re still a little embarrassed about), Mando started showing you how he runs the Crest. Walking you through a takeoff sequence, demonstrating what the other buttons along the cargo hold walls do.

(you didn’t know there was a button to close Mando’s cramped cubby)

(might come in handy when you want a little privacy)

You were appreciative at first, until Mando started disappearing in the evenings with no warning or explanation. One minute he’d be feeding the child, the warm thrum of your cavewoman brain revving up -

(he wiped the child’s mouth with the edge of his cape and you had to go take a breather in the kitchenette)

- the next moment he was gone, up in the cockpit or down in the hold, wherever you’re not. A whiff of solder sometimes wafted by, or the clunk of metal on metal reached your ears. You’re curious, endlessly so, but if there’s one thing you would not betray, it’s the trust Mando has finally given you.

(he’ll come to you when he’s ready)

Instead you prepare food and tidy the hold and read on your holopad until he returns, either to bid you goodnight with the child tucked into his arm, or to put him down before sneaking back to you, large hands on your hips a precursor to his hushed question:

“Can I have you tonight, Mesh’la?”

(more often than not your nights end with him inside you)

But as the days continue, another bounty on the horizon, your treacherous mind begins toying with your insecurities. The next planet wasn’t far but Mando’s taking his time, making short hops instead of fast travel. When you questioned it, the threat of Imps and blaster residue in your nostrils, he said it was to show you how to hop in and out of hyperspace.

(the holopad full of calculations makes your head spin)

(you hold it like a lifeline)

“Mando, I appreciate you taking my feelings to heart, but moving this slow…aren’t we tempting our luck?” you finally asked, legs crossed in the jump seat when Mando pulled out of hyperspace yet again.

“I’m willing to press it,” he replied, “but not much longer. Tomorrow we land.”

“Could have landed three days ago,” you said, goading Mando to turn to you. He cocked the helmet, which still managed to thrill you, and leaned back.

“I thought you enjoyed my company,” he said, the tease making you smile. “You certainly did last night.” Your face turned molten as you played up a salacious gasp.

“That was a low blow, Mandalorian, you won’t get many more nights like that if you use them against me,” you scolded, biting back a bigger smile when Mando stood up to tower over you, cocking his hip.

(what you wouldn’t give to leave a mark on the flesh there)

(make him wear it under the armor)

(your own symbol of devotion)

“That’s an empty threat,” he said coolly, making you roll your eyes before he tucked his knuckle under your chin, swiping his thumb over your lower lip.

(a Keldabe kiss is one thing)

(this kiss is only for you)

“Only a little longer, Mesh’la. I promise it’s worth it.” he said, quieter, and you nodded, wrapping your hand around his wrist. One squeeze before he moved to the cargo hold.

“I was going to show you how to dump the waste reserves today,” he called up the ladder as he descended.

“Oh thank the Maker, the suspense was killing me!”

You chased his huffed laugh.

An arid planet comes into focus, the child perched in your lap as Mando begins descending into the atmosphere.

“We’re a day early, bounty’s not expected to be on world until tomorrow,” Mando says as the Crest leans into entry, hull shaking against the heat as it skims over the bubble-like surface of the atmosphere.

“What should we do until then?” you ask, lifting the child a little higher so he can watch the descent. “Looks like a dry planet, Bean, no frogs for you.” His trill of disappointment makes you wonder, yet again, if he understands you more than the energies you assume he’s reading. The thought is dashed from your mind as you focus on Mando’s technique, riding the curve of the planet until gravity begins to tug you down in your seat. The Crest dives like a much more graceful bird than her silhouette, weaving through clouds and pockets of rougher air as a stretch of open land surges up to meet you. With a gentle lurch (good job landing Mando), you’re back on solid ground and the child is chirping at his father.

“Yeah kid, we can go outside. We’re far out, should be safe,” Mando says, directing the last part of the sentence to you. As you make your way to the ramp Mando calls down.

“Wear something warm.”

Your head cocks at the request.

“It’s a desert, I’ll cook alive.”

“Trust me.”

You exchange a look with the child, who lifts and drops his ears in as close of an approximation to, “Beats me.” You shrug on a long-sleeve shirt (one of Mando’s old ones, you still covet a few) and comfortable boots. Giving the button a slap, you wait for Mando by the cargo ramp as hot air blows into the hold.

“I don’t agree with your opinion on the climate,” you call back, turning when his footsteps near. “I think the armor’s skewed your perception of heat.”

“You’ll need it for this.”

In Mando’s hands is a harness, leather straps reinforced with thick thread along the seams. A hefty buckle centers in the loops, which attach to the baffling item in question.

(a jetpack?)

Mando has his on too, clasped into the backplate of his armor. This secondary one is more beat-up, yellow and green paint flaking off in places. It hangs heavy, the straps gathered in one hand as he lifts it to you.

“It’s old, but it works fine. Used to belong to Cobb Vanth,” Mando says, shifting a little as you watch him with parted lips. Your eyebrows raise briefly at the name of the Mos Pelgo Mandalorian you ventured to meet when (your) Mando was still among the stars. The jetpack, however, and all its potential holds your attention.

When you don’t say anything, Mando continues. “The Rising Phoenix is calibrated to my vambrace, but this one could be programmed to a…” He trails off as you step closer, shifting the child in your arms to reach out and finger the leather strapping. “Is this okay?” he finally asks, low and quiet as you feel the T-visor burn along your cheeks.

“You made this?” you finally say, barely registering Mando taking the child from you so you can inspect the rig. “This is why we were taking so long?” you breathe out, realization warming you.The stitching is tight and neat, the soldering clean. It even looks like he tried to remove some of the flaking paint but gave up. He shrugs briefly.

“Makes sense for you to use it. It’s likely to draw attention. But if there’s trouble, it’s fast,” Mando says, his body language cautious right now. He must have been nervous at the proposition, anticipating your apprehension, but you feel anything but. This hunk of junk repurposed to protect you is a greater gift than he understands. It makes you break out into a dazzling smile.

“This is karking amazing!” you shout, the child joining in as you turn over the rig and inspect it from all angles. Mando’s chuckle sends tingles down your spine, and when you meet the visor again you can imagine a bashful smile gracing his face.

(a face you’ll never see, but dream of all the same)

“How do you…” you start, holding the jetpack to your chest like a child on Life Day.

“A desert planet with nothing to do seemed like a good place to teach you,” Mando says, sauntering down the ramp, the child’s ears bouncing. Your heart hammers into high speed while sweat beads along your hairline.

(you’re going to fly today)

Mando takes an especially long time to walk you through the components of the jetpack, how it works and what each part does. You’re barely containing your excitement, hovering over his quick-moving hands and nodding endlessly.

“What’s this for?” you ask, pointing at a cylinder in the center that looks empty. Mando shakes his head.

“That’s for another day, Mesh’la, today we’re flying,” he deflects, and you don’t push. The possibility of being weightless, suspended in air the way you’d only experienced in dreams, was a much greater distraction.

“Do you have the controller?” Mando asks. You flash the metal gauntlet on your wrist. It’s just as cleanly built, a small series of buttons that do the basics. You’ve ridden speeders with more complicated controls. Though speeders barely leave the ground.

“Ready?” he asks, holding the straps open for you to slip into. You flash him a bright smile before turning around, shouldering the bulky machinery like a school bag. It settles on the center of your back, Mando fussing with the chest clip and adjusting the tension of the straps.

“This needs a real harness, but for now it’ll work.” Mando slides his fingers under the restraints to test their tautness. “It won’t distribute your weight, so no long trips. You’ll bruise up.”

“I can handle a few bruises,” you challenge, a coy smile melting onto your face as Mando slows his pacing. He tips the helmet in, tugging on the central buckle once more.

“Cheeky,” he purrs before stepping away, typing something into his vambrace. You twist and test the harness. It’s a comforting level of snug, the kind that makes you feel made of durasteel. The child, left to his devices during the suit up, pats at your calf.

“Am I looking cool, Bean?” you ask, doing a quick spin for giggles. “I need a cape like your dad to go…with…” You trail off, a wicked little smile replacing your coy one. “Hey Mando,” you call out innocently, drawing his gaze. “Did you always have the Rising Phoenix?”

He tilts his head with some hesitancy.

“No.”

“So when we first met, you didn’t have it.”

“No.”

“And I remember you having quite the impressive cape back then.”

“I’ve always had…”

“And now it’s a little, you know. Worn. A little tattered. Maybe a little…burned.”

Mando stares you down and it takes all of your effort not to lose it.

“Do you…wear the cape when you’re flying, Mando?”

He shifts from one foot to the other.

“It takes a lot of work…”

“Oh my Stars, you do!”

Mando shifts into what you’ve come to call the Exasperated Stance, hands on his hips, shoulders squared, helmet tipped back.

“It’s easier to…”

“Mando, you are going to set yourself on fire, you kriffing idiot. I can see the scorch marks!”

Mando advances on you, and you skip backwards. Your hands fly to the controller on your wrist. It’s easy to psych yourself out thinking about flying, but with Mando stalking your way, your pounding heart could be attributed to that.

“Mesh’la…” he growls, but with little fire behind it.

(unlike the amount of fire he’s definitely set to that useless piece of fabric)

“Mando…” you mimic, hand dancing over the gauntlet like a gunslinger about to draw his weapon.

“Stop it.”

(perfect)

“Catch me and make me,” you taunt, taking off into a real run. Mando’s footsteps falter, then pick up speed behind you.

(now or never)

You press the short series of buttons to ignite the jetpack, your speed masking the initial jolt of thrust when it catches.

“Wait!” Mando shouts behind you. For a moment you do feel bad for the plaintive plea threading his shout, but adrenaline kicks in and if you do this right, you’ll be flying.

(if you do it wrong, well, you’ll just have a bruised ego…along with a few other places)

Three more long strides and the thrust lifts you off the ground, a disbelieving laugh following. Your feet dangle uselessly as you lift off, the wind in your ears drowning out further shouts. Faintly you hear another roar of ignition, Mando likely to yank you back out of the sky, but euphoria is all you can absorb. The drop in your stomach evens out as you slow your climb, easing the throttle until you’re hovering about fifty feet off the ground. You kick your legs, heat kissing the back of your thighs reminding you to be careful. Below, the sable sand and rock stretches like a rolling canvas, the undulations of hills and sharp creases of mountains in the distance shifting perspective as you absorb beauty at a height you’ve never known.

“Are you crazy?” Mando shouts, zipping into view right in front of you, broad beskar body blocking out the horizon you were just admiring. The startle makes your finger slip, and you drop ten feet fast, Mando’s hands chasing you. Regaining control, you zip away from him.

“I’m getting the hang of it!” you laugh back. His posture is rigid as he flies close behind, more disciplined with technique. You’re just happy that you haven’t crashed face-first into the hard packed dirt yet. Below the child watches you weave around, little hands raised when you zoom overhead. Narrowly avoiding Mando when he reaches out, no doubt to slow you down or scold you further, you speed up with the barest recognition that this is probably a bad idea.

“Look at this Bean!” you shout down, wobbling your shoulders back and forth until you discover how much sway banks you left or right. It doesn’t feel real, like you’re flying in a dream, even though the wind whips past your face and the straps pull painfully against your ribs.

(it feels like freedom)

A flash of silver glints in the corner of your eye and Mando is pulling up beside you, one hand clamping down on your bicep.

“Enough. Land,” he shouts, but for the first time in ages you feel light, like every care on your shoulders was left in the dirt. You don’t want to touch down and let it crawl back up yet.

Plus, it’s been too long since you sparred with Mando.

The controls are surprisingly intuitive, though considering he made them for you might that speaks to his intelligence. Or insight. But now he must be cursing his thoughtfulness because you speed up and up, the weight of his armor lagging him behind. His grip loosens and you spin away again, testing how quickly you can change direction. The dance continues, Mando’s hands coming close, his voice lost to the roar of the packs and the wind whipping against your cheeks. You push him back, kicking him in the chest once and feeling a little bad about it.

He finally yanks you down by your ankle, flipping you so the propulsion shoots you towards the ground. Righting yourself more nimbly than expected, he barrels into you and digs his fingers into your waistband.

“Stop. Teasing.” The growl is heavy, but even he can’t hide the winded excitement of the chase under the vocoder. You’re sure if you palmed him now he’d be hard.

(jetpack sex)

(no way, that’s how idiots go about dying)

“Make. Me. Mando,” you pant, hitting a random button on his vambrace. Thankfully it just stutters his jetpack, grip slipping enough for you to wriggle out. You want to see if you can do a loop, entertain the child below, fly along the horizon the way you’d always dreamed of when two desert suns set on your planet.

The jetpack lurches hard against you. The ever-present heat skirting down your thighs lessens. Something smells like chemicals and smoke.

(out of fuel)

(DANK FARRIK)

All the elation building in your chest freezes to terror when gravity pulls you, but before you can shout Mando’s hands jam under the harness, wrenching you to his chest as all your gravity-defying stunts fizzle out. You thud your forehead against his paudron as he lowers you back to solid earth, talking yourself down from the brief heart attack. Once your feet touch down you back away, Mando’s grip easing as you sweep sweat and dust from your forehead.

“Thanks for the rescue,” you mutter, cheeks hot with embarrassment before you turn your attention to the little green child hurrying his way over. “How’d you like the show Bean?” Kneeling down, he practically tumbles into your open arms, clawing his way up to your face to pat at your cheeks. “I’m okay buddy, had the time of my life up there thanks to…” Looking over at Mando you can almost see the frustration wafting off him in waves.

(kriff, you really pissed him off this time)

“Okay, how about we pop you in here and send you back to the Crest while I get a lecture,” you murmur as you tuck the child into the silver pram and send it scooting. The child looks back once, concerned ears perking, but turns back around when you wave him off. Mando’s footsteps approach heavily, scuffing in the dirt. You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face.

“I’m sorry…” you start to say, ready for the harsh reprimand you’re sure is coming.

(how can you explain the wonderful gift he just gave to you?)

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” he says, dangerously low. His shoulders are tight, forehead almost pressed to yours. You can see how intimidating being on the Mandalorian’s bad side could be.

“I was…” you try to say, the emotionless visor following your gaze. The horizon, sparkling with midday sun, is where your gaze finally lands. “I’ve always dreamed of flying. I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

Seconds tick by as you wait for a scold, but it doesn’t come. Instead Mando sighs, and two heavy hands drop on your shoulders.

“You’re lucky I caught you,” he murmurs, squeezing briefly. You bring your eyes back to the smoky T-visor and quirk a wan smile.

“Seems like I’m always falling for you.”

(would that be such a bad thing?)

Mando stills, then cradles your cheek in his hand. The cool kiss of beskar on your forehead raises goosebumps despite the desert heat.

“Mesh’la,” he groans, “don’t tease.”

“Not teasing now, Mando.”

A rumble in his chest burns straight to your sex.

“Yeah? You’ll be good for me?”

(oh kark)

Mando twists you in his arms, back to front. The jetpack puts too much bulk between you, making you have to bend at the waist, but it’s immediately evident this is exactly what Mando wants. He palms your hips, dragging his hand up to stroke your stomach before sliding down to cup you over your pants.

“You want this?” he asks, but he’s already kneading at your mound, the heavy swipe of his fingers through your clothes sparking heat in your cunt.

“Mando…” you choke out, hands coming back to grab at his narrow hips. You’re unbalanced and clumsy against his unyielding stance. “The child.” His little silver pod is ascending the ramp into the Crest. Mando chuckles.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be quick.”

Your cunt clenches, ripples of pleasure as you scratch your nails into the rough weave of his pants. The jetpack tugs against your chest and you realize he’s using it as leverage to pull you back into him.

(jetpack sex jetpack sex jetpack sex)

“Feel what you do to me, Mesh’la. All the kriffing time.”

Your hands scrabble behind you, fumbling between your bodies.

(give it to me)

(all of it)

(all of you)

Mando shifts, jostling your body a fraction to the side. There’s a sudden white hotness against your arm and you cry out, jerking against his hold.

(the exhaust pipe)

The jetpack is still cooling down, hot rings of metal that just touched you at the worst possible time. Mando’s grip disappears immediately, the press of his body against you suddenly gone.

“What happened?” he says, and the vocoder can’t hide his concern. You twist your arms back up by your face, straightening back to standing. There’s a small welt, hot to the touch. You’ve barely inspected it yourself when Mando’s familiar orange-tipped gloves take your hand into his.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, careful not to touch the mark but still holding your arm so gently.

(oh Mando)

(never)

“Just touched the exhaust, nothing a little bacta can’t fix,” you say breezily, but you know the moment’s passed. Mando’s already leading you back to the Crest, and you follow begrudgingly.

(trust you to ruin some of the hottest foreplay with an injury)

The child burbles at your entrance, hovering the pram over to where you sit at the table, injury outstretched on the durasteel. You turn your arm to touch the burn against it, offering a tiny sliver of relief from the dull throb. Mando bustles into a cargo cubby, pulling out the medkit you’d put to good use barely a week before. A packet of bacta gel, and the Mandalorian, settle across from you.

“I promise, I’m okay,” you say with a lopsided smile, reaching for the bacta. He snags it up first, motioning for you to reveal the burn. It’s halfway up your forearm, the flesh rising.

“I know,” Mando says before tugging at the tips of his gloves.

(Maker)

The last time you got to watch this ritual closely (not clouded by lust or in a frantic scramble) was when he stood at the foot of the bed in Joeken’s inn. You’d admired his wide palms, his thick fingers, how capable they looked. There’s much there you remember, but age and circumstance changes all. There are more scars along his knuckles, callused and rough. He almost glows in the artificial lighting, a deep golden tone forever under his skin. Being able to savor it screams of transgression.

“Let me,” he says, breaking you from your reverie. You extend your arm into his reach, the scratch of his well-worked fingertips tracing the injury. He squeezes a small amount of bacta onto the burn and works it in with two fingers, the touch featherlight and gliding. Mesmerized by the methodical strokes, your other hand drifts to the back of his hand, your fingertips sliding over the smoother skin. His fingers falter as you both watch the slow advance of skin on skin.

“Mesh’la,” Mando breathes. You start to retract, afraid of an overstep. “No, it’s…” he stutters out, “It’s okay. Just not…used to it.”

(touch him until he forgets what it was like to go without)

Bacta application forgotten (or completed), Mando cups your injured hand, tracing the lines in your palm that supposedly speak of your future. You let your own wandering touch linger along the mountains of his knuckles, slip along the veins and raised injuries, before resting on his wrist. His chest hitches like he’s in pain, or something much sweeter.

“Does it still hurt?” he asks, now holding your hand between both of his.

“No, much better,” you answer, leaning when a flash of black catches your eye. Your mouth and one eyebrow quirks up. “Who gave you that?”

Mando turns his wrist, a black tattoo - two rings around a dot - appearing on the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger.

(target)

“Paz. A brother in arms.”

You stroke over it, no discernible texture.

“Did he give you more?” you ask cheekily. The child hovers closer to inspect his guardian’s ink, tilting his head and softly cooing.

“You’ll have to find those yourself,” he says, the edge of sass in his voice making you giggle. You move to pull away but his hands wrap around yours, warm and gentle for implements of such bloodshed.

“I never want to hurt you,” he says, much quieter. The vocoder almost loses his consonants. “If I ever do…”

“Hush,” you scold, leaning over the table to meet the visor. “It was an accident. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of them.” The stillness in his posture twists your stomach.

(he’d be devastated if he harmed you)

“You could never hurt me,” you say. Mando tilts his head, the sentiment too simplistic. But all of its meanings fill the silence.

(you would never do it purposefully)

(I’ll always forgive you)

(I would rather be hurt than without you)

With molten slowness Mando leans over your arm, raising it between you. You think it’s to inspect the burn, see that the bacta is working, but he just stares at it for a long moment. His hand drifts to the edge of his helmet, aimless and lost. When you touch him again he snaps back, standing up quickly.

“I have to make some preparations for tomorrow,” he squeezes out, taking a half step back. His movements are sluggish, quickening only when he strides away.

“Thank you, Mando,” you call as he mounts the ladder. He gives a nod, tugging his gloves on before climbing the ladder into the cockpit. The child hovers by your side, looking up at his retreating father figure before reaching up to you.

“Been a bit of a day, hasn’t it Bean?” you say, lifting the child out of the pram. The warmth of his touch lingers, the images of his hands holding yours only a blink away.

The baby yawn is all the answer you need.

In the cockpit, Din leans down and braces his hands on the console, trying to slow his pounding heart. He’s been inside you, why was letting you touch his bare hands more intimate? He’d had to cover them up to stop reliving every caress, the way your eyes roamed along the only bit of skin he’d allowed you to observe. His face burns with self-consciousness but also the thrill of your exploration.

But as much as that all excited him, it was that final moment that drove his heart into his throat and made him feel lightheaded. Because he held your hand and looked at the burn - an injury he caused, however inadvertently - and let a fleeting thought grow wild in his mind.

Kiss it better.

Something his mother would do with a scraped knee or a bruised finger.

Kiss it better.

Those three words grew from a whisper to an ocean roar as he considered how your skin would feel under his lips. If he could lift the helmet just enough to touch but not for you to see.

That wouldn’t risk his Creed.

Yes it would.

He crushed the desire down, left you behind a little more confused than before, but safe and cared for in his ship. Safe with the child and with him.

You could never hurt me.

You’re right. Din would never, could never bring harm to you. But some days, like today, he can see how much harm you could do to him. With your bright smile and open heart and patience, you could destroy the Mandalorian.

But from those ashes, Din Djarin could grow.

A flashing light grounds him as he flips on a holo-message. A halo of messy curls and a sassy expression glows to life, the dull scrapes and whines of a working hanger in the background. Din cocks his head as the message plays.

“Mando! Long time no see! Not that I miss that hunk of junk ship of yours. Well, I do miss the credits it brings in. Anyway, I’ve got a lead for you. You wanted those, right? About the Mandalorians? Got a client who may know where some are. The info’s not for free, I’ll fill you in when you get here. Bit of a time crunch, though, so you better shift that rust bucket into hyperspeed. You’re her last hope.”

Peli Motto’s image fizzles into static, and a blanket of duty settles back on Mando’s shoulders. A mission long paused. An outcome he comes to dread more with each passing day. A galaxy that spun on without the three of you for a long while.

But there is much work still to be done.

END

Episode 11 of the I Think of You Series

[sngchngs]

Modern mdzs character headcanons

The Lans

Lan Qiren absolutely keeps a Burn Book. He uses it to keep records of every misdemeanour. Of every transgression. He has an entire chapter dedicated to Wei Wuxian.

Lan Xichen keeps a hidden stash of hard candies in his room. He likes to suck on them when he meditates.

Lan Wangji records his guqin playing and listens to it on his airpods when he's practising his sword techniques.

Lan Sizhui likes to sketch people. When he has a few free moments, he will find a spot, either in a park or a bench on a street, and will pull out his sketch pad and pencils and discreetly sketch people's expressions.

Lan Jingyi is a gamer. He plays games like Horizon: Zero Dawn; Yakuza; Minecraft; Kingdom Hearts. All his games (including his ps4 console) are hand-me-downs from an older cousin. He has a page or two in Lan Qiren's Burn Book.

Other sects under the cut ⬇️

The Jins

Jin Guangyao is a philanthropist. When he's not busy being the Chief Cultivator, he likes to (anonymously) donate huge swathes of money to various humanitarian and environmental causes. The only people who know he does this are Lan Xichen and Jin Ling.

An unfortunate accident (involving Wei Wuxian) left Jin Zixuan paralysed from the waist down. He competed in Para canoe in two Paralympics. He is now an editor of a publishing company.

Qin Su did not marry Jin Guangyao. (From an early age, she knew that their relationship was that of siblings.) She owns and manages a law firm that helps victims of sexual assault. Her firm has a high success rate.

A few times a month, Jin Ling helps out at a local dog shelter. He takes Fairy, and together, they help socialise some of the more timid dogs. Jin Ling prefers animals over people.

The Jiangs

Jiang Cheng is a bit of a tea connoisseur. When he's not busy managing his Sect, he likes to unwind with a pot of tea. He has sampled teas from all over the world and has a pantry full of jars of all sorts of teas.

Jiang Yanli is a successful cook/chef who owns her own restaurant and who has her own TV show and cookbook. Her husband, Jin Zixuan, edited and helped fast track the publication of her book.

Wei Wuxian loves eating chilli chocolate. To the point where he makes his own and experiments with the heat of the chilli.

The Wens

Wen Qing owns three cats. One munchkin and two rescues. Her house has been decked out with shelves, ladders, platforms, and scratching trees. She has an entire room dedicated to the cats with an indoor jungle gym.

Wen Ning likes travelling. He's been to over a dozen or so countries and plans to go to more. It was Wei Wuxian who got him into travelling.

The Nies

Nie Huaisang runs an art blog (as well as a few social media pages). As well as his art, he posts pictures of his pet birds as well as any wild birds he sees. His artworks are phenomenal, with a nod to more traditional styles. He has thousands of followers.

Despite his tough exterior, Nie Mingjue has sensitive taste buds and can't handle food that is too spicy, too sweet, or too hot in temperature.

~~

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: CHANGBIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: PUBLIC SEX, ORAL (F. REC), HAIR PULLING, FEM!READER, PRAISE/DEGRADING, NO CLEAR DOM/SUB DYNAMIC, SIZE KINK IF YOU SQUINT, PET NAMES, FINGERING, MULTIPLE ROUNDS, FOOD MENTIONS, WALL SEX, UNPROTECTED SEX, CURSING ☾ ━━�� WC: 2.2K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Hot weather came on quickly. Which meant it was time to break out the flowy dresses and short bottoms and tops.

     It was one of those days and nights when it was just way too hot to wear clothes that clung to your skin, and Changbin was staying late at the studio. Y/n had offered to bring her boyfriend dinner to the studio— mainly because he was complaining about missing her while he was working— so she threw on one of her sundresses and grabbed the container. She texted Changbin that she was on her way to the company for lunch and got in her car. 

     Changbin was alone in the studio working on songs. Chan had a well-deserved day off while Han had already left for the day. He was debating on keeping his girlfriend here just to keep him company till he was done with work. He was playing around with a few adlibs, trying to see where they would sound the best when he heard a knock on the studio door. 

     The rapper got up from his chair and walked over and opened the door, smiling when he saw his girlfriend, “I love you so much.”

     “Love you too,” Y/n leaned in and pecked his lip as he let her into the studio, “You all alone today?” She asked as she set the food down on the table in front of the couch he closed and locked the door behind him

     “Chan’s off today and Ji already went home,” Changbin answered as he walked over and wrapped his arms around her. He’d noticed the dress when she walked in but now he was taking in the sight. He smiled, “Thankfully too.”

     “Eat your dinner,” Y/n poked his chest

     Changbin picked up his girlfriend, making her gasp in surprise, and walked over to their setup. He placed her down on the open spot on the table and brought his lips down to hers, hands gripping the fabric on her hips, “Later.”

     He’d seen her in a sundress before. Nothing new to her wearing them. They just usually ended up on the floor later. Same thing today. Something about the dresses gave him the urge to fuck her into next week. 

     Y/n gripped his biceps as she kept up with his lips. His hands pushed the fabric of her dress up and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in as close as she could. His hands moved up from her hips to her shoulders and pushed the sleeves of the dress down. Moving his kisses down her neck to her shoulders. Both their breathing had picked up as her hands slipped under his loose tank top.

     “Bin, off,” Y/n whined as she pushed the shirt up as she ran her hands up his abdomen 

     His kisses paused for a moment to pull the material off his body and toss it to the floor to deal with later. Y/n cupped his cheeks and pulled his lips back onto hers. Bin chuckled against her lips and grabbed the back of her neck with one hand while the other moved under her dress. 

     Originally meaning to tease her over the panties, but he quickly realized she was lacking panties. “No panties tonight?” he mumbled against her lips before pulling away and kissing down her neck. 

     “No,” Y/n smiled

     “Dirty girl,” Changbin said as he ran his fingers up and down between her folds before his thumb pressed against her clit. 

     Y/n let out a whine as her fingers grabbed at his hair. Bin peppered kisses all along her neck and left behind a few love bites before moving down further. Only stopping for a few moments to undo the zipper on the dress and get it off of her. Then proceeding to pull his chair over and take a seat and immediately pulled her to the edge, pulling her legs over his shoulders. 

     Y/n leaned back on her hands just in time for him to lick a strip up from her entrance to her clit, making her shudder. He was loving that she had just worn the dress and sandals to the studio. Less work for him to do and more time to enjoy each other.

     He let his tongue run up and down between her folds several times before wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking lightly. His hands held firmly onto her hips as one of her hands grabbed at his curly hair. The slight tug made him moan as he sucked on her clit. Y/n rocked her hips against him as he flicked his tongue against the small little bud. He looked up at her through his lashes. He loved watching her expressions as he went down on her, it was fun when he had her sitting up on his desk.

     He kept his eyes on her as he sucked and flicked the little bundle of nerves, his whines and moans flowing into his ears making him harder than he already was. He turned to harshly sucking and licking, ultimately making out with her cunt as her moans filled the soundproof room and her smaller hands gripping his hair as he worked her closer to orgasm. 

     “Binnie, I’m… almost there,” Y/n moaned. 

     The producer hummed in response and that sent her over the edge. Her orgasm crashed and covered his chin. Changbin happily drank every bit of essence that flowed out of her, like he’d just walked through a desert and found an oasis. 

     Y/n leaned back on her elbow as her other hand left his hair as he kissed his way up her body. “Come here,” Changbin pulled her down from the table to straddle his lap. 

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he kissed her chest. Y/n cupped his cheeks and brought her lips onto his and rolled her hips against his erection straining against his gym shorts. 

     “Need you in me, baby,” Y/n mumbled against his lips

     “What do you say, doll?” He asked as his hands gripped her ass and pulled her flush against his chest.     “Please, Binnie. Need my big pretty boy inside me.”     Changbin smiled and stood up from the chair and walked her over to the couch they had in the studio and laid her down on the cushion, attaching his lips to her neck as he ground his clothed erection into her wet cunt. The action elicited a harmonious moan from her that seemingly edged him closer. He could get off on her moans alone but lord he wanted to feel her around his cock.

     He moved a hand from her ass and rubbed two of his fingers between her fold before dipping one into her. He pulled his head up just in time to see her throw hers back into the couch cushion. Her hands grabbed at the hair at the nape of his neck as she brought her head up to look down at her boyfriend catching his eyes as he smiled at her. Maintaining eye contact as he leaned down and kissed her breasts, slowly inserting a second finger.

     Y/n bit her bottom lip as her boyfriend circled one of her nipples with his tongue before taking it into his mouth. His fingers made scissoring motions inside her to spread her open for him. As much as she wanted to watch the scene on top of her unfold, the pleasure was almost too much. The back of her head dug into the cushion below as she felt a third finger pushing its way into her.

     Once the third finger was in, he thursted them in and out of her as quick as he could, “fuck, bin. Please… inside” Y/n whined as she grabbed onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

     Changbin popped her nipple out of his mouth, “need you all nice and open for me doll.”

     “Please, baby. Need you in me now.” Y/n whined as her head popped up and looked at him, with pleading eyes.

     “Fuck,” Changbin sat back on his knees and pulled his fingers out of her. A small whine left her throat at the loss of contact as he pushed his gym shorts and boxers down before tossing the fabric to the ground like the rest of their clothing. Y/n smiled as he grabbed her legs and pushed them up to her chest. 

     One hand took hold of his cock and rubbed the tip along the wetness between her folds before pumping himself a few times. Y/n watched him through the mating press he had her in before he lined his cock up to her and slowly pushed the tip in. 

     Her jaw fell open as he pushed in more. Both his hands held onto the back of her thighs as he mumbled a few curse words. “Feel so good around me doll.” Changbin groaned as he leaned forward a bit, fully sinking into his girlfriend then pulling out and fucking back into her at a steady pace. Small whines fell out of her throat every time he slid back into her.

     Slowly his speed picked up as he leaned into her more, her moans getting louder the deeper he went into her. She was teetering closer to the edge when he pulled his fingers out of her. Just him pushing his thick tip into her tightened that familiar knot in her stomach tighter. “Bin,” Y/n moaned out as she grabbed onto his forearms and involuntarily clenched around his thick dick.

     “You gonna come for me doll?” Changbin teased as he bullied his cock into her

     “Yes, please baby. Wanna come on your big cock baby.” Y/n begged. Feeling his dick twitch in her from her small amount of pleading.

     “Feel so good when you clench around me, fuck.” His head fell forward, eyes narrowing in on where he was disappearing inside of her with every thrust.

     Y/n moaned with each thrust until the knot in her stomach snapped and Changbin wasn’t far behind. Pumping slowly through their highs before he stopped for a moment then pulled out, releasing her from the position he had her in. He sat back against the couch and pulled her onto his lap and kissed her cheek. “Stay until I finish up?”

     “You work, I’ll feed you,” Y/n smiled, moving to straddle his lap, grinding on his softened —now Harding— cock

     “Keep grinding on me and I’m fucking you again doll,” Changbin warned 

     “Mm. Can I request it against the wall this time?” Y/n giggled as she leaned down and kissed his neck. 

     Without another word, Changbin picked her up and stood from the couch. It was mere seconds before she was pinned against the wall and smiled at him, holding onto his shoulders as one hand moved from her ass to pump his erection to full length before slipping into her again. 

     Y/n groaned as he kept her upright against the wall. His free hand came between them and ran little circles around her clit as his cock sat inside her. Her mouth hung open as his calloused applied the perfect amount of pressure to her clit. Slowly starting to roll her hips against him as best she could. Hands gripping onto his broad shoulders for extra support. 

     “Looks so good like this doll.” Changbin groaned as his head lay in the crook of her neck, 

     “‘M close baby.” Y/n moaned, still sensitive from their previous round and him just sitting in her contracting walls while he played with her clit was not helping the case. 

     “Come on, doll. Come on my cock again,” Changbin picked up the pace until he felt her hips stutter and stop their movement. Feeling her essence mixed with his previous cream pie drop down his cock. 

     Changbin moved his hand away from her clit and put both his hands under her ass, gripping tightly. He pulled out and quickly — and roughly— fucked back into her repeatedly through her orgasm. Grunting in her ear with each thrust and planting the occasional kiss on her neck. He pressed her hard against the while she grabbed the nape of his neck, lightly tugging on his hair. 

     Sweat rolled down both their bodies and mixed together. Their skin sticking together, Y/n’s heel digging into his back. Even though the heat outside was currently unbearable, they welcomed the heat emanating from their bodies right now from sex. And the heat that came from his hot ropes of cum shooting into her for a second time that night. 

     Changbin buried himself as deep as he could in her again as he came down from his high. Once the clarity set in he kissed her cheek, “How about I call it a night and we go home, yeah?”

     “Yeah. Sounds like a good idea to me.”

     “Go home and get you in the shower,” Changbin smiled as he pecked her lips then pulled out of her so they could clean up just a bit and get their clothes back on before grabbing everything else they needed and heading home for the evening

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[a-libra-writes]

do you have any romantic headcanons for rocky rickaby from lackadaisy? 👀

sweats ...yeah uhh yeah i got a whole lot so this may be long-winded and not particularly organized.....

Shout out to @pomegranate-pen and @lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit for also doing Rocky posts that gave me more food for thought and helped me solidify some thoughts 🤔 i def recommend their blogs as well

Firstly, this is a whole-ass crush-at-first-sight. Infatuation, even, because "crush" feels too light a word. The feelings just hit Rocky and he starts wanting to talk to this person more, or at least see them. This has happened many times in his life and the people almost always tell him off or just avoid him. He's aware of how he can ... be, so being brushed aside and outright rejected isn't new. But this person is talking back! And seems to want to?

In that case, he really can't help himself. He wants to be in their good graces, and learn more about them, and impress them! Oh, he'll do so much for you. Anthing, really, he'll run himself ragged, especially if it's something you really need done. You won't even realize how much he went through, you'd puzzle it together based off his beat up appearance and the state of the car and Freckle grumbling about something as he tries to hide the blood on his coat. Don't let him go so far, and make sure he rests.

Once the relationship is more official, Rocky may still feel the need to keep doing so many things for you, to make himself "useful" to you even if he already "has" you. It's a bad habit of his that's deeply ingrained and rooted in insecurity that you'll be tired of him or realize how burdensome he is and be done with him. It's better to channel his energy into helping with simple things, like fixing your car or getting some groceries or just keeping you company while you finish up work. Still, given his exuberant energy and clumsiness, even those simple things can get a little ... much. But perhaps that's part of the charm. He really is trying.

But hey, there will be endless poems and songs for you. Some spur of the moment, some words and phrases he's turned over and over in his head for a week and they all just spill out as soon as he sees you. Rocky probably isn't aware how sweet and romantic it is unless you spell it out, and that only encourages him further. He hums and taps out little melodies that remind him of you, then grab his violin and string them together. If you like theater, even better, he'll recite romantic lines and stanzas until the sun comes up. More than once you two have had an impromptu reenactment of the Balcony Scene, much to the Lackadaisy crew's annoyance.

Oh, and the pet names, they are endless. There's fairly normal ones like "angel" and "sweetheart" then some that are just ... A long string of poetic references to your eyes and smile and general being. "Don't run out of adjectives, dear," You've said more than once.

He's so disgustingly in love, it drives them a little batty, however at least you sort-of-kind-of keep him out of trouble? Or at least, you ground him a bit ... Okay, not really, but you patch him up afterward and he's more likely to take his nervous energy to you, not the bar. But if they have to hear about how the light sparkles in your eyes one more time --

(Mitzi really hates to get you involved with the business, but if you've got a steady head and can handle a gun, well ... I mean, if you can handle Rocky, maybe you're a good person to keep around ...)

And on the topic of patching up, good lord have you had to do it many times. If you weren't experienced in first aid before, you learn it quick. The black and purple bruises are the least of it, there's cuts and abrasions and don't even get started on the concussion. Sometimes, he's still surprised how upset and angry you get when he staggers up to the door and looks like he was put through a wringer. He'll try to be more careful for your sake, but ... well, he tries.

And tries and tries ... Are you noticing a pattern? When it comes to dates and nice things, Rocky really isn't experienced, but he wants to try, because it's for you! He'll get all sorts of advice from Ivy and Mitzi (he asked Viktor but ran off before he got the response) and does his best with it. It's tough if you're clearly from a well-off family, or used to the finer things ... But in the end, you both have the most fun with simple things. Going out for a fast drive in the country, or playing music together, or just chatting endlessly about everything until the sun comes up. He really, really can't remember the last time he was with someone for so long and so happy - except, maybe when he was staying with his aunt and Freckle? But there wasn't nearly this much talking and laughter. It's like a dream, or being drunk, or being endlessly inspired, or -- aaaand he's off waxing poetic again.

It's not just all the music and poetry, it's all the affection! Rocky soaks it up like he'll die without it, and, well ... He really went so long without such company and affection, perhaps that's true. He wants to be held, he wants to lean on you, he wants you to take his arm, he wants kisses and attention! It's just so affirming and reassuring and comforting, if you two have to go a while without seeing each other, he finds himself getting antsy and lonely. He travelled along railroads for years by himself, and suddenly being away from you for a few days is hurting this badly?

If you're someone who dislikes or is uncomfortable with physical affection, it'll be very tough, because he wants it so badly and he just does it without thinking. He'll rush at you for a big hug instead of saying "hi", or brush shoulders and lightly entwine your tail with his while he pests you about what you're working on. He wants to be considerate of your personal space, of course, so it'll take time and a lot of reminding him what is and isn't appropriate for you. Sleeping next to him means you will get cuddled and it's tough to peel him off once you wake up. At least he's a bit better about it in public, and at the bar, because Viktor can peel him off.

(An important caveat is if you're male or present as such, he's obviously far more careful in public, even if he's obviously on pins and needles for when it's safe to hold you again).

Another thing is the co-habitation, this being the 1920's and dependent on your family situation or upbringing. This may already be a "line" you both have crossed, since Rocky often shows up at your doorstep battered and ends up crashing on your couch, or you just say screw it and let him crash there after going on a run together. Actually sleeping in your room or, even more shockingly, moving in is something he has a hard time with. It's almost nerve-wracking. On one hand, isn't this what he wanted? Doesn't this prove you really, really want him around? But on the other hand, actually having that is somehow scary. Having a proper roof and a warm bed and food right in the fridge is .... a bit of a change from the living arrangements he's had for the past 5+ years. It takes some adjusting and easing into it.

Long story short, he is just a bundle of affection and adoration and quite a bit of insecurity and a little mania. Just ... a bit. Don't worry about it.

[noproofread]

Your Forever

"They say that love is forever, your forever is all that I need"

Happy Valentine's Day :)

Wrote this cute lil Buggy one shot for today, hope you like it🥰

Inspired by this song (still on my emo shit lol)

fluffy, established relationship, proposal, pet names, just overall cute tooth rotting fluff.

word count: 1,008

masterlist here

tag list: @fanaticsnail @dakingsu-blog @vangowithit

You walked up a small hill, following the instructions Buggy left you on the note taped to your bedroom door. You weren’t expecting anything from him, just his company was enough for you. And it wasn't like him to be romantic in any way. As you arrived at the top you saw a beautiful display of rose petals on the floor leading to a large bouquet. Buggy was standing behind the flowers. He had changed his daily makeup, using a lot more pinks and reds. Instead of the crossbones there were small hearts. “Happy Valentine’s Day” He spoke softly. You smiled as you walked over to him, caressing his cheek. You leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Let’s sit here. I wanted to watch the sunset with you.” He said, taking a seat on the soft grass. You looked up for a moment, taking in the view in front of you.

The sun. Such a beautiful star in the sky, painting it of orange and red as it begins to set to allow the moon to shine against a dark sky. You took a seat next to Buggy, enjoying the view. He had let his hair down and it was flowing with the light breeze that accompanied the crashing waves. You sighed as your hand found his. You felt him hesitate a little before grabbing your hand. He turned to look at you, a shy smile tugged on his lips. The orange hue painted his face gold, emphasizing the blue green color of his eyes. He turned away, a pink blush appearing on his skin.

Buggy got up on his feet, pulling your hand up with him prompting you to follow him up. You stood on your feet, facing Buggy. “I’m not good at expressing… feelings.” He said, shivering at the word feelings. You smiled, chuckling lightly. “I’m honestly just surprised that you're here… That you’ve stayed here with me.” He continued, using his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. He was nervous, you weren't quite sure why. He traced circles on your hand with his thumb, looking down at his feet as he spoke. “I never thought that… That anyone would stay.” You reached over and grabbed a strand of his hair, twirling it in your fingers. He raised his gaze, his eyes drifting from your hand to your eyes, finally meeting yours.

You offered him a smile, seeing his blushing face. “What are you talking about, Bug?” You spoke softly, reassuring him with your smile. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I’m not the most stable person… But you make me feel like I’m good. Like I’m okay even though I’m flashy and crazy.” You chuckled. “You’re not crazy. You're just you.” The blush on his face deepened. “Yeah well… I just. I like being with you. I couldn't imagine what my life would be like if you weren't here.” “What are you trying to say?” You began feeling nervous too. Buggy had never told you any of this. Sure, he would give you gifts. He would tell his crew to bring you snacks, drinks, food. He would compliment you, try his best to show you he cared. But he never said anything. He never planned anything. You didn't know what to expect from your beloved clown as he stood in front of you, your hand in his.

“I’m trying to say that I- I love you. Like really love you.” Your heart stopped for a moment. You knew he loved you but he never told you. You felt it. Your eyes glassed over as tears began to pool. He smiled. “...And I-” Buggy let go of your hand, reaching into the pocket of his pants as he lowered himself to the ground, knee first. You gasped, realizing what he was about to say. What he was about to ask. Your hands covering your mouth as the tears finally fell from your eyes. “Bug…” “I can't promise to be perfect but I promise to love you forever.” He pulled out a small black box and opened it.

A ring with a shiny blue stone. The sun had almost finished setting and its rays were hitting the stone, illuminating it as the sky dimmed. “Will you please stay with me? Will you marry me?” You cried, lowering down to the ground to be eye-level with him. Nodding your head you leaned in to kiss him. You kissed him desperately as if you had never kissed him before. You felt his makeup rubbing off on you. You tasted your own salty tears, unaware that Buggy had also started crying. You pulled away, panting. You looked down at the ring, it matched his hair. He grinned, his makeup was smudged and his lipstick had faded. Buggy took your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger before bringing his eyes back to you.

He laughed lightly. “You look like a fucking clown” He said, looking at his makeup smeared on your face. “So do you.” You laughed, wiping away your tears. The sun had set, the sky was dark. You lifted your hand, looking at the ring on your finger. It sparkled like the stars scattered across above. “Do you like it? I had Cabaji get it. You don't like it do you? Oh when I get my hands on Cabaji I swear will-” “I love it.” You cut him off, kissing his nose gently and grabbing his hand to reassure him. “Okay… Good. I'm glad.” He whispered, looking over at the starry night. Buggy let out a sigh, you felt his hand relax in yours. His eyes glistened, the stars reflected in them. You leaned on his shoulder, closing your eyes. You took a deep breath, feeling the wind on your skin, the sound of the waves, the warmth of his body. You opened them and looked at the ring on your finger. It looked like his eyes, his hair, his aura. You could live in this moment forever.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

My Beloved Evil, Part 1

There is true evil in this world. That, I know for sure. I have looked her in the eye, after all. I have pressed my lips against hers and inhaled the scent of her hair and held her tight against the endless starry night. I have loved evil, true evil, and lost her too.

My name is Runera of House Ilfirel, fifth daughter of the High Councillor to the Empress of Andromeda. I grew up in the verdant hell of Che'erai, spoon-fed by a hundred house servants, while indentured slaves toiled just beyond our atmo-bubble. I had it all: gravity adjusted for my maximal comfort, nanobots that patched even the most minor of aches, food genetically tailored to my taste buds. At the time, I merely thought it my due, though I now see what a naive fool I had been.

At the time, though, I wanted nothing more than to leave my estates. I hated my noble lineage, the endless balls of sneering, ferret-faced duchesses and counts, the metaphorical snakes that suffocated me like that insufferable bodysuit I was made to wear. I despised my siblings, so suave and shallow, with their lords- and ladies-in-waiting, gossiping in an incessant stream about prosaic fashions and mundane affairs. Most of all, I loathed the life I was made to live, that of a highborn socialite, and the fate I was to suffer, to be married off to some other shallow fool.

I had, in the manner of rich and intelligent youths everywhere, a desperate need to stretch my wings. All the great interactive libraries, all the mechanised replicas and all the holo-domes could never do the real thing justice, or so I thought. I wanted to see the ‘real’ world, venture out to the edge-colonies and live amongst the natives. I wanted to pet a Chesserus Jurassi in ‘real’ life. My friends, what few I had, and I fantasised about fleeing the star system with a frequency that mimicked the drama amongst other groups, and after much deliberation, I decided my way out was on a space shuttle.

To be specific, the research shuttle to Planet 3X-28988. It was in the early stages of colonisation, and there were endless calls for adventurous souls and intrepid researchers to help pollinate it. I had the prerequisite knowledge, and the capacity to forge an ID that would let me get aboard, with the help of my comrades. They thought me brave for it, braver than they, who would rather stay and live amongst the snakes and the stifling monstrosity they called society.

So it was that I found myself on the far side of a rimworld, all alone, studying biology that I never would have thought I could see in its natural habitat. I stayed at the edge of the colony, all alone in my little Habi-bubble, with nothing but my thoughts and tools to keep me company. Every weekend, a drone would drop my groceries on my doorstep, and the kindly head chef would invite me to sit in on his poker night. I always refused, fearing that they would sense my highborn heritage and out me.

So I grew used to being lonesome. It was… comfortable, in the way an old scar was. That is to say— a familiar ache that, on the rare and awful occasion, would turn into an agonising rift of the soul.

Still, it was the life I chose.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

PS: Be kind guys :') The next few bits will contain the first romance I've ever tried to write