#since i use his outfit from that one for this

[pyronovas]

blowing steam

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You've learned a surefire way for Johnny to vent when he's upset.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, johnny venting, established relationship, unsubtle mention of those GODDAMN JEANS, blowjobs in the middle of dinner, dom!johnny if you squint, smut fairy at your service <3

Author's Note: to the sick individuals who enable all the johnny storm thoughts, i love you and you know exactly who you are

Johnny liked to make an entrance.

You always leave the sliding door on your balcony open for him, hit with the rush of familiar heat as he gracefully landed on his feet, diving for a kiss the moment he sees you. He's always smiling, always giddy when you were within reach, kissing you through your slowly burning dinner as time became meaningless.

Tonight wasn't anything like that.

Johnny still presses a kiss to your lips, checks over your shoulder to the simmering soup on the stove…and pouts, leaning back against your kitchen island as his fingers curl around the eclectic laminate.

"What's wrong?" you ask, pulling at the knot on the apron at your back and pulling the other knot of string over your head, simultaneously flipping off the burner as you approached Johnny.

You brush at his cropped blonde hair, smoothing down a tuft before your hands move to his denim jacket and tug, prepared to wipe the pout from his face as you lean forward and initiate your own kiss, just a gentle press that he returns wholeheartedly.

Curious to his silence, your gaze drags, examining the collar of his shirt and down, pinching the fabric between your fingers as you raise an eyebrow, "Pink?" you wonder with a light, teasing tone, "Are you testing out a new color pallette?"

"No," Johnny answers suspiciously quiet and you push his jacket from his shoulders and spot the shirt pocket before leaning forward to peek at the tag and quickly realize that it was the exact brand of shirt you had bought him last week as an offhand gift while you were out shopping for yourself and you knew it didn't come in pink.

"Johnny," he can already hear the lilt of humor in your tone, biting back a laugh.

"I ruined it," Johnny admits in defeat, arms thrown up before they slap to his side, "I'm a horrible boyfriend who ruined your gift because I thought I could do my own laundry,"

"Ben usually handles it all, doesn't he?"

"Well, yeah, but I've just been—" Johnny stops himself, shaking his head in annoyance as he cuts the sentence dead, "Ben warned me, too,"

"Oh, so we're dealing with a case of Johnny-know-it-all?"

Johnny rolls his eyes with a weak smile as your hands push up to rest at his shoulders and eventually slide to caress his neck, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Johnny's eyebrow raises in question.

"Clearly there's more bothering you than a pink shirt," you always saw right through him and fortunately, you had a surefire way to help him get the weight of whatever he's carrying off his mind, "drop 'em,"

He doesn't argue, of course.

His confident fingers work at his belt, the button of his jeans, shifting them down his hips as you pull at his underwear, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as your knees follow the decent of his pants.

He always made up for the ache later, both in your knees and elsewhere.

The teasing was the most torturous, mouthing at his cock with a hands-free approach as you squeezed playfully at his thighs, his hand threading over the crown of your head like it always did, tangled loosely in your hair.

"Talk to me," you urge him, eyes flicking up at him as your bottom lip drags along the tip.

First comes a deep sigh, then his voice, grittier than usual.

"I dunno," Johnny begins, "ever since Mole Man said that stuff about my outfit—"

You nod, one hand wrapping around the base of him, tugging him gently as you swirl your tongue around the tip, pushing the saliva over the head to wet his cock.

"I like to look good, we're public figures, you know? There's always eyes on us," Johnny starts to explain further, "And I hate suits, baby,"

"I know," you assure him, "I think you look great,"

"It bothers me," Johnny admits, "and then today, my jeans—"

Oh, the jeans.

Johnny can't help but pause, though. A momentary stutter in his focus as you take him fully in your mouth, your hand working in tandem as your other pushed under his shirt and clawed at his stomach with gentle pressure and he whines, a sound so soft you barely here it.

"I—I asked them…if it—if I looked ridiculous," Johnny continues on a shaky exhale, "and all I got was smiles—smiles, that's worse than silence, right?"

This time he didn't need your prompting, your mouth working him over with a practiced ease, the tip of your tongue tracing alone the ridges and veins of his cock you had memorized so well, his hand shifting to your cheek as he feels the fullness of his cock fill your mouth and nudge at your throat, blue eyes darkening as he looked down at you with parted lips.

"I like my jeans," Johnny admits with a slight frown that dips into something more disgruntled as you pull away, your thumb rubbing over the weeping slit as you offer a sweet smile.

"I love your jeans," you assure him, "even as much as I like them off,"

It didn't matter how obscenely fitting they were, Johnny liked them.

And you weren't complaining either.

"Ben wouldn't shut up about the laundry this morning," Johnny beings to divert a little, "there was a lot, I wanted to help, but he does that thing where he talks….and lectures,"

Similar to someone you knew—you laugh quietly to yourself as your tongue follows the trace of your thumb before taking his cock in your mouth again, working away diligently to distract your poor, suffering boyfriend.

"Don't mix the dyes with the whites, you'll ruin them," He mockingly imitated Ben before sighing, "I love the guy but sometimes he's worse than Reed,"

It was rather amusing. They all bickered like brothers, like family.

But, you were increasingly more dedicated to the task at hand now.

"Alright, maybe…don't talk about Ben and Reed while I have your dick in my mouth," you tease him gently as you pull away from his cock and Johnny chuckles, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone,

"There's gotta be some science behind this," Johnny quips,

"You always get mouthy when I have your dick in my mouth,"

Johnny shrugs in defeat, a wide smile spreading across his face because, as usual, you were right.

You quickly switch gears though, full throttle as you roll your tongue around his balls and sucks until he's moaning out desperately and a hand returns to your hair, tugging harder this time.

It forces you to look at him while he helps feed his cock between your lips, staring at you with a reverence that always made the heat in your own belly coil, "I like hearing you too, but you sound so much better with your mouth full of me,"

The pressure of his cock at the back of your throat makes you tear up and moan, eyes fluttering as he holds you there before letting you go at just the point of discomfort, drool covering your chin as you stare up at him with a mix of amusement and adoration.

"Come on, pretty boy," you goad him, lips pressing flush against the head of his cock as you give it a gentle kiss, his strong and calloused fingers gripping himself tightly, "I'm hungry,"

Johnny doesn't need prompting, gripping tightly at your hair as he yanks your head back, the underside of his cock rubbing against your tongue as he brings himself to finish with an unabashed and loud groan, holding his gaze as the warmth of his seed spreads over your tongue.

It was always warmer, like his touch, something you noted earlier on but never really asked about, feeling his thumb guide your chin up to close your mouth as you swallowed the remained of his cum with a greedy smile before rising to your feet and pulling him into a kiss that was all tongue, allowing Johnny to taste the remained of himself in your mouth.

"I made enough dinner for both us, by the way," you tell him

"Baby, I love you," Johnny says, like it wasn't already a daily occurrence.

He was an absolute lover boy and you couldn't get enough.

[erimyya]

Thinking about an Otome game au with Phainon with sprinkle of self aware au. Someone said Phainon is born to be in otome game but force to be a tragic character in turn base game. I cannot unseen it.

Imagine if hoyo made an otome game dedicate to Phainon after the whole Amphoreus patch.

You get to interact and see more of the character outside of the story quest and literally date him. Although it's a different game, it still connected to one another. You can call the otome version as a sequel to the main story in their main game. Take it as a heart warming dessert all of us player deserve after sobbing over this man.

Tbh it's almost the same as LaD concept, you can custom made your mc, dress your mc and take picture with Phainon in various poses. The different is you can run around freely in the open world with him or not— that's up to you. Now, why wouldn't you bring Phainon along with you? What is he there for? Decoration? You can explore the Amphoreus world in different perspective, more detail perspective. The building that you can't enter in hsr? You can enter it but whatever you saw in there better stay there. Phainon had to drag you out before you cause more peace disturbance and get in trouble.

Not to mention, you can jump now. Don't try to jump off the building. You don't want to give Phainon a heart attack now, would you? Game or not, you can respawn or not, just don't do it. Ignore the intrusive thought. He's begging you.

You can toggle with the pov perspective too! You want to feel more immerse in it? Use the first person pov! You want to see the world in more wider perspective? Just use the third person pov! Use the first person pov more often, Phainon may kabedon you when there's no one around.

You can fight too! But you gotta bring Phainon with you or else the game won't let you. That man forbid you from fighting by yourself.

Don't forget to build him. Yes, you gotta grind for his relic all over again. Additionally you need to build your mc as well. Then you just log in the next day and find Phainon hitting big damage. When you check the build, your Phainon is almost perfectly build. You just startle like two days ago? Let's just assume that the game copied your phainon's build in hsr since the two game is connected.

Did I say the two game is connected? Yes. If you used the same account to play the otome game, when you log into your hsr game, there will be some easter egg where he mention you from the otome game after you finished the whole Amphoreus quest. Phainon mention of your very recent activity from your interaction in the otome game almost everytime when you play around in his voice line or just talking with him in the over world.

When you log in into the otome game, Phainon will sometimes slip something like "You're not getting bore of me, are you?" or "You haven't been using me for a while now. Why is that?". You never suspect a thing because you thought the otome game keep track of your characters usage in hsr. You're not wrong, he did keep track of your interaction with other character.

Gacha system? Yes, they have it there too. Is it really hoyo without their gacha system?

You can gacha the lightcone —brace yourself for the fluff and angst those lightcone brought along— that come with their own specific outfit. Cough cough Flame Reaver's outfit. Phainon may or may not be jealous if you prefer his alter ego more though. But most of the time, I'm sure he don't mind.

Sending message to you. Yes. You bet he will. Phainon cannot send message directly to you in hsr but in otome game his own dedicated otome game. He can freely do that. So don't be surprise if you get a notification from the otome game, a message from Phainon begging asking you to take a stroll with him.

After what he's been through? Let this man have his quality time with you. He will appreciate it very much.

[starkeyszn]

⇢ how’s your wife doing ? ⌇

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: milf!reader x dilf!rafe

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: a scene/quotes from wolf of wall street, use of y/n

the late afternoon sun bled across the neatly manicured garden of the cameron estate, painting every surface with a warm, expensive glow. trimmed hedges framed the sprawling lawn. the stone patio beneath rafe’s feet was warm, the ice in his glass melting slower than time.

he sat back in the custom-built teakwood chair, perfectly angled toward the view — aka, a direct line of sight into the open-concept living room through the wide patio doors.

topper and kelce lounged across from him, both already on their second bourbon, laughing loud over some story that didn’t matter anymore. it had been a year since the three of them sat together without a time limit. rafe had peeled away from nights out and golf trips, instead he buried himself in expansion projects and investor dinners but more than anything, focusing on his family.

topper leaned forward, swirling the ice in his glass. “how’s your wife, y/n? how’s she doing?”

rafe smirked, tipping his chin toward the open sliding doors behind him. “that’s her in the house there,” he said, like it was obvious. “you could say hi, but she probably won’t wave back.”

kelce raised a brow, following the direction of rafe’s gaze. inside, you stood near the kitchen island, one hand holding your phone to your ear, the other delicately fixing the clasp on a diamond-studded earring. your pink shirt clung to your hips, the white shirt fitted perfectly. your outfit screamed expensive. your hair was clipped back in a half-up bun that screamed effortlessness. your legs were bare, skin glossed, toes painted that sheer, ladylike pink.

topper gave a low whistle, already grinning. “damn,” he muttered under his breath, before raising his glass with a lazy grin. “y/n, sweetheart!”

you glanced over, your gaze looking bored and then — without even pausing your sentence into the phone, you lifted your hand, extended your middle finger, and turned back around to grab your clutch off the counter.

kelce practically choked on his drink. “jesus christ.”

rafe just laughed, low and proud, “told you,” he said with a shrug. “she’s not in the business of being polite.”

topper looked stunned. “she’s exactly the same.”

“what, you thought motherhood was gonna make her soft?” rafe asked, amused. “if anything, she’s worse. more dangerous. more expensive. more addicted to chanel.”

“so, i heard she’s running some aesthetics thing now?” kelce said, leaning back.

“yeah, her own studio,” rafe said, a flicker of something proud flashing in his eye. “botox, filler, laser, all that. booked out for months. women come from everywhere just to get their lips done by her.”

topper shook his head. “she’s a menace.”

“she’s my menace.” rafe replied, without hesitation.

inside, you hung up the phone and crossed the room slowly, your heels clicking faintly on the marble tile. aurora’s tiny pink barbie shoes were scattered by the sofa, a discarded juice box lying sideways on the floor. you ignored it all, stepping over the chaos like you were floating.

teddy came sprinting through the hallway a second later, barefoot and yelling something about pirates. before he stood infront of you, holding his arms out. you bent down before picking him up and holding him on your hip.

you walked over to the couch, setting teddy down, “do you want your headphones?” you asked, in which he nodded eagerly.

you grabbed his headphones from the kitchen counter, putting them on his ears as he grabbed his ipad, you gave him a kiss on the head.

you leaned against the doorframe, and gave the garden another look — your eyes flicking between kelce, topper, and rafe like you were weighing which of them mattered enough to speak to. spoiler, none of them did.

“that’s my beautiful wife right there,” rafe muttered, bringing his drink up to his lips.

topper smirked, glancing back at you. “still not sure how you pulled her.”

“i knocked her up at seventeen,” rafe replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “and never let her leave.”

they laughed, but it was true. you’d had teddy at seventeen. scared shitless, defiant as hell, and already wearing luxury perfume your friends couldn’t pronounce. you were fire and ice and fake lashes. somehow, through the coke and the fighting and the storm of growing up too fast, rafe stayed. stayed and built a kingdom around you.

and now — seven years later — here you were. in the house you both designed, sipping your matcha, with a business in your name and two kids who called you mama and a husband who never stopped spoiling you.

you finally stepped out onto the patio, sunglasses in place, your lips glossed. “topper. kelce,” you greeted, voice silk-wrapped poison. “didn’t know they was letting the strays through the gates now.”

“we told security we were here to see the ceo,” kelce grinned.

you raised a brow. “must’ve been a slow day.”

rafe stood as you walked past, placing a hand on the small of your back like muscle memory. you leaned up, kissed his cheek, and whispered something in his ear — too low for the others to hear. whatever it was made rafe smirk.

“i’m taking the g-wagon,” you said aloud. “meeting a client for a consultation. if aurora wakes up, don’t let her eat gummy bears before dinner. she’ll lie about how many she had.”

“noted,” rafe said, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

you turned to the boys, eyes cool behind your designer shades. “you boys have fun talking about the glory days. don’t forget your wives have access to your bank accounts now.”

with that, you walked off, heels clacking against the stone, legs out for miles. topper stared, “she scares me.”

“yeah,” rafe followed his gaze, “me too.” but he loved it.

[tarta-de-limon]

My family came back from Peru and ohhh, they bought me a llama pen. I used to have one YEARS ago, they sell them everywhere in touristic places. I saw it and I remembered when I used to imagine it running while I moved it around, so I wanted to draw Damian riding it 😭🙏

IT'S SO DUMB LOOKING I LOVE IT.

Oh, he looks lovely. I remember I tried replacing the ink once it didn't have more, but I ended up breaking it. I was heartbroken. But now I have it back!

Anyway, while drawing that I thought; oh, it would have been cute if he had been in his Robin outfit. Then I thought, well, if it had been his Robin outfit, I would have to Peruvianize it...? So here it is!!!

He's a dancer!!!! There's this super cool dance called the Scissor dance in Peru, and the dancers jump a lot; Perfect for Robin! I can imagine young Richard Grayson jumping around, CUTE CUTE CUTE! But since this is Damian, yeah.

I struggled with the colors a lot, but I'm satisfied! I was thinking maybe Talia and Ra's could be demons, inspired in that dance La diablada, which I dunno how to translate to English. In any case, in that dance there's an angel, it's a fight, and I was thinking maybe Bruce could be the angel? The problem is that the Angel obviously wears all white, and that can't be him, because Batman is...well, the dark night. Then I thought about the Ukuku, the bear man! And he's like a guardian, to put it somehow? And there are versions of the costumes where they have a dark mask, so I thought; that works! Since he's a guardian, he could also be the angel of the diablada...? Which I know historically it's incorrect, but In this AU, I think it could work!

Then I thought, maybe Damian should be the Ukuku, since the Ukuku is the son of a woman and a bear, but then I thought, nah, let it be Bruce, because then Damian can be part demon!!! And it gives him identity crisis, because he's part demon, part guardian. Just like in the comics!

(and yes, woman and bear, not woman and Bat. Maybe I can change that too???)

I was thinking maybe the scissors could open a portal to the world of the death. I love the idea! What if only a Robin can use them? Then Batman can go to Jason and ask him to use the scissors to bring Damian back to life and they can fight because they're not supposed to use them for that. They can fight and punch each other, just like the comics!!!!

Translating things to ones culture is always funny, I can't help but ramble!!!

...

Eso tilín también es parte de mi cultura .

[darklucielle]

Birthday Special

STAYC Sieun

Tags: Public sex, Gangbang, Bukkake, Birthday sex

Synopsis: It's Sieun's 24th birthday. This time, She will celebrate her own day in a different way!

(Third Person POV)

"Is she coming right now?"

"I hope so. I've been waiting here over an hour."

"I heard she's visiting some birthday cafes before here."

"Wait.. Isn't that the manager's car? She's coming guys!"

Sieun emerged from the manager's car infront of the birthday cafe. She's excited not just because she's celebrating her own day with Swiths but also celebrating it in a different way.

"Hello Swiths!!" She shouts as soon as she enters the birthday cafe. Her fans screams followed after. She looked at them one by one. Waving here, Waving there. Giving flying kisses as she's walking around the area where her face is everywhere. She noticed that the crowd is full of male swiths.

Majority of them are surprised of Sieun's outfit tonight. She's wearing a polly scarf ties up around her chest area and a black shorts. Showing much skin to the crowd.

Posters, Photocards, Polaroids and Standees. These are the common things to find at every birthday cafes.

"Wow, Swiths! You all going all out this time huh? This is amazing!"

She walked towards to the table where a birthday cake is waiting for her. Her manager puts a candle that says '24' at the center of the cake and light it up.

The crowd proceeds to sing a Happy Birthday song. After the song, She took her time to wish something and blew the candle. Again, The cheers erupted.

"All I want to say is thank you for coming here tonight to celebrate my birthday. I know you all patiently waited for me and so tried my best to make the wait worth it. I'm so sorry that all of you waited for so long."

"It's okay, Sieun!"

"Yeah! It's okay. Seeing you here, It's worth the long wait."

"I won't regret coming here, Sieun!"

She smiled warmly at her fans words. She knew her fans are willing to wait just to see her. Just to be with her in this special day.

"I'm so touched right now, swiths. I knew you are all amazing. But since we are all here tonight. I have a special gift for all of you. If you're willing to stay here for longer, Follow me to the second floor. Just give me five minutes then I will call all of you. Alright?"

Confused about Sieun's special gift, all of them nodded and excited about it.

Sieun smiled ear to ear as she walked through the stairs up to the second floor where her manager and some cafe staffs worked hard for Sieun's special gift to Swiths.

After almost five minutes.

"Swiths! Can you hear me?"

"Yes!!"

"All of you can come here now."

They all started to walk through the stairs. Sieun's heart is beating so fast. She's excited to see her fans reaction.

As soon as the first few Swiths came to the secons floor. They're all so shocked what they saw right now.

Sieun is bare naked, Her skin is glistering as she poured herself a babyoil. She's sitting at the large mattress. Smiling ear to ear as Sieun waves at them. They couldn't believe that their bias is naked infront of them. Hearts pounding in fear and excitement.

"Hello again, My lucky Swiths! It's surprising, right? This time, I want to celebrate my birthday in a different way. I know this is risky but thrilling as well!"

No one dared to talk. They're just stunned at the sight of naked Sieun.

"Before we start. I want all of you to put your devices at the box there. No recording allowed. I want all of us to enjoy my birthday tonight. Arasseo?

"Yes!" They all nodded and voluntarily surrendered their devices.

"Now, What are you guys waiting for? Strip now and join me!"

They all looked at each other and hurriedly stripping themselves as they cautiously approached Sieun.

As soon as the first few of them came close to her. She reached out to the one man with a glasses and kissed his lips. Glasses guy is shocked yet tried his best to reply her kisses despite the inexperience. She moaned as she felt a three pairs of hands wandering around her glistering body.

Their hands groping her perky breasts as they pinching and tugging her stiffed pinkish nipples.

Other hands wander to her thighs and tummy. After she kissed the glasses guy, She went to the chubby guy and kissed him with hunger. She's amazed on how the chubby guy knows how to kiss her. His tongue tangled hers. She squealed when she felt a pair of lips suckles her breasts.

"Hhmmm~~ Yes.. More please! I want cocks right now."

Hearing that. The chubby guy guides her head towards to his erect fat cock. Sieun immediately sucking his cock. Bopping her head up and down intenstively. Making the chubby guy moan out loud. Her tongue expertly licking the underside of his fat cock.

She felt some cocks stroking her hair and nudging to her face. After sucking the chubby guy's cock, She went to the side where another cock wanted her to suck it. She willingly sucking it in a same pace. Her hands are busy stroking cocks.

Sieun felt fingers brushing at her wet cunt. She spread her legs wider to invite them.

"Wow! Sieun's pussy is so clean and pretty!"

"Bet she's tight as fuck."

"Can we put our cocks inside, Sieun?"

She stopped sucking her fan's cock to nod. "Of course! This is why I'm willingly to give myself to all of you. You can cum inside me, I'm safe today." She winked at them before continued to suck another cock.

The black guy hurriedly positoned himself between her legs. His big black cock teasingly rubs against her wet entrance until he pushed it in.

"Fuck! You're seriously tight as fuck!" He groaned as he keeps pushing his cock inside of her. Sieun felt him inch by inch. Her inner walls clenching tight around his cock. She rolled her eyes as she felt deliciously stretched by a big black cock.

She moaned against a cock that vibrates to a pale skinned guy. She sucked his cock in a sloppy way. Her saliva leaking out from her mouth and dips down to her chest.

The sight of an idol gets gangbanged at it's own birthday feels unreal yet they're truly living at this moment. A possibly once in a lifetime opportunity.

The black guy's cock finally went inside of her. Sieun felt him on her stomach. With a deep groan, he thrusts into her, stretching her tight folds around his cock. Sieun gasps, her back arching as she adjusts to the size. But soon, she's moaning in pleasure, riding his cock as he begins to pump in and out of her.

"Mmm, yeah... fuck me hard!"

The room fills with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and Sieun's loud moans as the black fan pistons into her. Nearby, another fan lines up behind her, his cock bobbing with each thrust. Sieun moved to show her bare ass infront of him. She reaches back to grab his shaft, positioning it at her puckered asshole.

"Ohh, you want this too?" she asks with a wicked smile, pushing back onto both cocks. "That's right! Take my ass!"

The two men start to move in sync, one plunging into her cunt, the other into her ass, their thick lengths stretching and filling her completely. Sieun's eyes roll back in ecstasy as she bounces between them, her body glistening with sweat and baby oil.

After a while, Sieun gazes up at the fan. Her eyes sparkling with mischief. She licks her lips seductively, drawing his attention to her lips.

"What if we made it a competition?" she suggests. "Each of you gets to fuck me however you want but whoever makes me satisfy, wins a 24 hours hotel stay with me this saturday."

The room erupts in cheers and excited murmurs as the fans process her proposal. Some glance at each other, already planning their approach. Others simply stare, transfixed by the prospect of witnessing Sieun getting fucked to win.

Sieun smirks, clearly enjoying the effect her words have had. She turns to the pale skinned fan whose cock throbbing infront of her, giving it a playful squeeze. "Well, what do you say, handsome? Ready to make me satisfy?"

The pale skinned fan grins confidently, his cock throbbing in Sieun's grip. He steps forward, lining up his rigid length with her eager mouth once more.

"I'll show you what this cock can do." he boasts. With a firm push, he slides into Sieun's warm depths, his hips rocking gently at first before picking up speed.

As he fucks her face, Sieun's hands roam over the other men still buried inside her, teasing their sensitive spots and encouraging them to keep pounding.

Sweat drips down Sieun's face as she services the dominant fan, her throat constricting around his girth.

The fan continues to piston his cock in and out of Sieun's mouth, his pace growing erratic as he nears his climax. Sieun's eyes water slightly from the force, but she maintains eye contact, her expression a mix of submission and desire.

Just when it seems he's about to cum, he suddenly pulls out, shoots his cum to her face. The fan steps aside, gesturing to the next man in line.

"Your turn, buddy." he says with a smirk, watching intently as the new participant positions himself in front of Sieun.

The crowd of men shifts restlessly, some fisting their erections, others whispering strategies for when it's their time to claim Sieun's body and win the competition.

The next fan steps forward, his cock rock-hard and leaking precum. He grabs Sieun's hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat as he shoved his cock inside her mouth.

"Time to fill your stomach with my cum, slut." he growls, slamming into her with brutal force. Sieun cries out, but allowed him to do whatever he wants to her mouth. Her throat buldges at every thrust.

The black fan and the one fucking her ass slow their movements, allowing the newcomer to take the lead. Others watch with interest, knowing they'll have their turn soon. Meanwhile, Sieun's body is a canvas of pleasure and pain, her muscles clenching around the invading cocks as she struggles to accommodate them all but determined to satisfy her fanboys.

The fan's relentless pounding sends waves of pleasure-pain through Sieun's body. Tears stream down her cheeks as she gags and chokes on his thick cock, her nose pressed against his groin. His heavy balls slap against her chin with each brutal thrust.

The black fan and the one in her ass resume their rhythm, the three cocks moving in tandem as they claim Sieun's holes. Her screams echo through the room, muffled by the fan's meaty cock in her mouth. She's lost in a haze of sensation, her mind consumed by the overwhelming fullness and the desperate need for release.

The crowd watches, transfixed by the sight of Sieun being thoroughly used.

The fan finally hits his peak, his cock pulsating violently as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed down Sieun's throat. She swallows hungrily, trying to gulp down every drop as he empties himself inside her.

As he pulls out, gasping for breath, the bald fan takes advantage of Sieun's open mouth, sliding his cock back in to continue where the other left off. Sieun's eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed by the relentless pounding.

The fan in her ass leans forward, his hands gripping her hips as he drives into her with renewed vigor, his thick shaft rubbing against the black fan's cock buried in her cunt. The triple penetration pushes Sieun to the brink, her body trembling with the approaching orgasm.

Sieun's legs shake uncontrollably as the three cocks ravage her, the intense stimulation sending her towards the climax. Her inner walls clench tightly around the two invaders, milking them for all they're worth.

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum!" she wailed around the bald fan's cock, her voice hoarse from the non-stop fucking.

At that moment, the fan in her ass slams home one final time, grinding against her ass he explodes inside her. His hot cum floods her insides, triggering Sieun's own orgasm. She convulses wildly, her pussy spasming around the black fan's cock as she screams in ecstasy. That made the black fan's cock shoots ropes by ropes of thick cum fills her womb.

Over the next two hours, Sieun's body becomes a playground for the horde of horny men. They take turns using her in every imaginable way - missionary, doggy style, reverse cowgirl, mating press, Spitroast, Carryfuck, bent over the couch, even standing against the wall. Each cock plows into her willing holes, claiming her as their personal fucktoy.

Sieun's skin glistens with sweat, her breasts bouncing with every impact. Her pussy and ass are painfully burning and bruised, but she craves more, begging for it between moans and screams of pleasure. The men comply eagerly, losing themselves in the endless cycle of fucking and cumming.

By the end, Sieun lies spent on the mattress, her body covered in semen stains and her holes gaping open. Yet despite the exhaustion, a satisfied smirk plays on her lips.

Sieun slowly sits up, Looking at the group of men with a lustful gaze. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she considers each of them, taking in their flushed faces and their prominent cocks.

"Well, well... Looks like everyone had a good time. But only one of you gets to spend an entire day with me this Saturday..."

She pauses for dramatic effect, letting the tension build. Then, with a sly grin, she points to a tall, dark haired fan who had been particularly aggressive in his pursuit of her earlier.

"You, handsome." Sieun declares, her finger tracing along his jawline. "You've earned the privilege of being my sex partner for 24 hours straight. Congratulations, you've won yourself a weekend of non-stop sex with me."

The chosen fan beams with pride, his eyes shining with excitement and lust. He steps forward, wrapping his arms around Sieun in a possessive embrace.

"Thank you, Sieun! I promise to make the most of this opportunity. You won't regret choosing me."

Sieun giggles, nuzzling into his chest as she feels his hard cock pressing against her stomach. "Oh, I'm counting on it." she replies with a wink.

EPILOGUE

The dark-haired fan walked towards to the Five star hotel that he's been adviced to come as this is the day of 24 hours sex with Sieun.

Both nervous and excited as the elevator doors open and looking at the room where Sieun is. As soon as he saw it. He knocked the door three times.

Sieun opens the door with a smile. "Finally, You're here!" She posed infront of him as she wore a sexy black lace lingerie.

"Ready for a best day of your life?"

-End-

[hatethysinner]

okay… soooo i just thought about this. you know how vampires burn in the sunlight, right? well, what if redder was a seamstress, or gave remmick an outfit that lets him go outside and spend time with her. just imagine: reader pulling a long-sleeved shirt over his toned torso, eagerly putting a wide-brimmed cap on top of his messy brown curls with a sort of excitement she hadn’t felt in a while. at least, not since he kissed her for the first time…

sorry, i got a bit carried away!!! but id love to see ur take on this <33

ʀᴇɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʙɪʀᴅ

ᴡᴄ: 2.4k

ᴀ/ɴ: title from my fav's newest album! this was so cute oh my god anon you are a genius. i ADORED writing this like AHHHHHH sometimes fluff just hits so good and this was one of those times! this man is the biggest softie in the fucking world and i will die on that hill. i feel like the spirit of shakespeare REALLY possessed me the entire time i was writing this because as i proofread i was like what the fuck was i cooking.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: toothrottingly sweet fluff, very light use of gaelic, stretching vampire laws obviously, emotional!remmick because he literally hasn't gotten to see the sun in centuries

You’d noticed it long before he ever said a word.

The way Remmick’s gaze lingered on the pale rectangles of sunlight that slipped through the curtains in the early morning.

How he tilted his head ever so slightly toward the warmth as if he could catch it through the veil of shadow he kept himself wrapped in.

Even the smallest things—the dust motes drifting golden in the air, the warmth of a sunbeam crawling across the quilt—held him captive in a silence so soft it ached.

He never touched it, of course.

He couldn’t.

But you watched his eyes follow it like a child longing at a window, and your heart pinched tighter every time.

At first, you thought he didn’t notice you noticing.

He always acted so composed, so careful in how he moved through your home.

But there were moments—small, quiet ones—when his control slipped.

When he’d tell you stories of green Irish fields so bright you couldn’t look straight at them, or describe the way the sea glittered like spilled silver on long-ago mornings. You’d lie together by lamplight, his arm heavy around your waist, and his voice would soften as he painted pictures of dawns he hadn’t seen in centuries.

“Smelled different then,” he’d murmured once, lips brushing your temple. “The air, I mean. In the mornin’. Crisp. Like breathin’ in a hymn.”

You’d felt his smile against your hair, but his eyes had been far away.

That was when you made the promise.

One hand on his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt, you whispered it into the quiet:

“One day, I’ll give it back to you. The sun. You’ll feel it again.”

Remmick laughed, gentle and a little sad.

“Ah, mo ghrá, don’t be fillin’ yer head with impossible vows.”

But you hadn’t let him brush it off.

You repeated it often, with the stubbornness he claimed you were born with. Every time you caught that yearning shadow cross his face, you told him again:

“You’ll see it with me.”

And every time, he just kissed you and called you foolish.

Sweet.

But foolish.

Still, you kept the promise alive.

Because you couldn’t stand the way he looked at the morning light like it belonged to everyone but him.

Today, though, you’d finally made up your mind.

The shirt had taken you weeks.

Longer, if you counted the days you spent sketching at the kitchen table while he teased you for furrowing your brow so hard you’d give yourself wrinkles.

It wasn’t just a shirt, not really.

It was layers stitched with careful, secret seams.

Fabric you’d traded dearly for, tested against every lamp you could coax to glow its brightest.

Long sleeves, lined with a weave so fine it shimmered faintly under the lamp.

A high collar that would button just right against his throat.

And the hat.

Wide-brimmed, soft enough to shade his face without feeling heavy.

You’d tried it on in the mirror more times than you’d admit, adjusting and tugging until it sat just so.

Perfect.

Perfect for him.

When you brought it out, your hands were trembling with more than just nerves. Excitement bubbled in your chest, bright as the very sunlight you wanted so badly to share with him.

He looked up from the chair by the hearth, where he’d been pretending to read.

The moment his eyes caught yours, you felt the warmth in them before he even smiled.

“What’s this then?” he asked, setting the book aside as you crossed the room with the bundle folded carefully in your arms.

His voice was curious, soft with affection, though a touch wary.

“Looks like ya’ve somethin’ up yer sleeve, darlin’.”

“Not up my sleeve,” you teased, laying the bundle on his lap.

“For yours.”

He arched a brow, but you could see the faintest trace of a grin threatening at the corner of his mouth as he unfolded the fabric. His fingers stilled against the shirt, tracing the stitching like it might unravel if he wasn’t careful.

“Y’made this for me?” he whispered, so quietly and so reverently you might’ve thought you’d just handed him something holy.

Your heart swelled.

“Try it on.”

He looked like he might protest—eyes darting between you and the shirt, lips parting with hesitation.

But whatever words he might have said faded when he met your expression. He sighed softly, giving in, and began unbuttoning his own shirt with careful fingers.

Your breath caught when the fabric slipped from his shoulders.

No matter how many times you’d seen him like this—bare arms, lean torso, pale skin that looked carved from moonlight—it never stopped tugging at something deep inside you.

He caught you staring, of course, and the smirk finally broke free.

“Like what ya see, do ya?”

You rolled your eyes, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Just put it on.”

Remmick chuckled, low and warm, and slipped the shirt over his head. You stepped closer, fussing with the collar, smoothing the fabric across his chest until it lay just right. He let you, his eyes never leaving your face, his smile softening with every careful tug of your hands.

When you picked up the hat, he laughed quietly, but there was no mockery in it.

Only tenderness.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, ducking his head so you could settle it over his head, “yer gonna be the death of me. Not that I’ve anythin’ left to lose.”

“Don’t say that.” Your voice caught, sharper than you meant it to, but you didn’t look away.

You adjusted the brim, brushing a stray curl back into place with a touch you hoped he couldn’t feel shaking. “This isn’t silly, Remmick. You deserve to feel the sun again.”

His eyes flickered, that strange, ancient red glint beneath the blue, before he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“If only ya knew what that promise does to me.”

“I do know,” you whispered, tilting your face up to meet his, voice steady though your heart beat fast enough to burst.

“I know, Remmick. And it’s time you realized I mean it.”

Before he could argue, you caught his hand in yours and tugged gently, guiding him toward the back door, pulse drumming louder with every step. He hesitated, a flicker of surprise flashing through his eyes, but he didn’t pull away.

When you reached the threshold, you swung the door open with more drama than necessary, as though the grandness of the gesture might loosen him up a little bit. The hinges groaned softly, the cool morning spilling in like an invitation.

You turned then, pressing both palms against his chest. The rise and fall beneath your hands was quick, shallow, his breath caught between nerves and longing. His eyes searched yours, luminous in the soft light, wary in a way that made you ache for him.

“Don’t let this pass you by,” you said, thumb brushing faint circles over the fabric you’d stitched for him. “Not this. Not now.”

He swallowed, the motion tight under your hands. You laced your fingers through his, warm and certain, and began to step backward, coaxing him with you.

Step by step.

Past the doorframe.

Onto the covered porch where the shadows still offered him refuge.

But just before you could draw him fully out, his grip loosened and slipped from yours. You blinked at the sudden absence, at the way he halted there on the edge as if the world before him was a cliff instead of a yard gilded in sunlight.

His face—oh, you’d never seen him look so torn. Not when he told you stories of hunger. Not when he admitted how long it had been since he’d touched daylight.

He looked nervous. Terrified. Caught between the safety of the dark and the impossible pull of the light.

So you didn’t push.

You stepped down into the grass instead, the cool morning dew dampening your bare feet, and turned back to him with your hands outstretched.

The world was breathtaking.

The sun had only just risen, spilling its first golden light across the yard, each blade of grass crowned with droplets that shimmered like scattered diamonds. The breeze tugged softly at the hem of your dress, setting it fluttering around your ankles. The air smelled of earth and lavender and something sweet you couldn’t name, the kind of morning that begged to be held close.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you waited for him.

“Come on,” you called softly, not urging, not pleading—just waiting, hands open and ready.

On the porch, framed by the doorway, Remmick stood frozen. His eyes drank in the light like a man starved, like it was already burning through him even from a distance.

But still—he didn’t move.

Not yet.

“Remmick,” you whispered, the word trembling in the space between you. “It’s going to be okay.”

His eyes flicked to yours, wide and glistening, like he was trying to memorize the shape of your face before the world shifted forever. He didn’t answer. Just closed his eyes slowly, lashes damp, and gave the smallest nod you’d ever seen.

He tilted his head down, breath shaking as though each inhale was a battle, and then—he stepped.

One foot down onto the stair.

His hand clenched tight against the railing, knuckles whitening, as though the porch itself might try to pull him back. But the moment his sole brushed against the cool wood, nothing happened. No fire. No pain.

He swallowed hard, another shudder running through him, and moved the second foot forward.

Another step.

Then another.

And suddenly he was standing in the grass, the dew now dampening his feet too, the early light spilling across his shoulders.

His body jolted as though it couldn’t hold the sensation, like the touch of the sun was a language he’d forgotten how to understand. His lips parted, breath rushing from him in a broken sound, and then he was moving.

Straight for you.

So direct, so sudden, your heart leapt—half in joy, half in the startled fear that he might barrel you over.

But he didn’t.

He stumbled into your arms instead, a man unraveled, clutching at you with a desperation that felt centuries old. His whole frame shuddered against you, the strength of him trembling like a leaf in the wind.

And then the sobs came.

Deep. Guttural. The kind that tore out of him raw and unbidden, like the weight of a hundred lifetimes had been pulled loose all at once.

He pressed his face into the curve of your neck, shaking so hard you had to brace your stance to keep the both of you from falling. His hands fisted the fabric of your dress, knuckles brushing against your sides as if he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t hold you tightly enough to anchor himself through the storm.

“Thank ya,” he choked, the words shattered and low, broken apart by the force of his sobs. “Thank ya… thank ya, love… God, thank ya.”

You held him tighter, one hand sliding into his hair, damp from the breeze, the other rubbing slow, steady circles over his back. Your own throat ached with the threat of tears, but you kept your voice soft, steady, like a lullaby meant only for him.

“You’re alright,” you murmured. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

He shook his head against your shoulder, breath ragged, and clung harder. “I never thought—I never thought I’d—” Another sob broke him mid-sentence, his chest heaving against yours. “It’s been so long… so damn long…”

“I know,” you whispered. “I know, Remmick. But you’re here now.”

The sun crept higher, the light spilling over him like an embrace, painting his hair in shades of gold you’d never seen before. It kissed his skin, brought warmth to the pallor that had clung to him for centuries, and you swore you could feel the life seeping back into him through every trembling breath.

He wept harder at that, as if the sun itself was too much, as if the gentleness of it hurt worse than any burn ever could.

“I thought I forgot,” he whispered against your skin, the words muffled but raw. “Thought I lost the memory of it… but it’s—” His chest heaved again, shuddering. “It’s beautiful. God, it’s beautiful.”

You kissed the side of his head, your lips brushing the damp curls plastered to his temple.

“I told you,” you said softly. “I told you one day.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes bright with tears, cheeks wet, his entire face open in a way you’d never seen before. There was no mask, no playful smile to soften the truth of him. Just raw gratitude. Just devotion.

And then, trembling hands lifted to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your skin so reverently it made your chest ache.

“You kept your promise,” he breathed.

“Always.”

“Mo ghrá...”

For a long moment, you only stood there—him clinging to you like you were the last thing tethering him to the earth, you holding him as though you could shield him from the centuries of darkness he’d lived with.

The breeze caught your dress again, swirling the fabric softly around your legs, and you felt the warmth of the morning finally seep into your bones. The air smelled alive, green and fresh, like beginnings instead of endings.

Remmick’s sobs quieted gradually, though his body still trembled in your arms. He buried his face in your shoulder once more, whispering between shallow breaths.

“I don’t deserve this.”

“You do,” you said firmly, smoothing a hand through his hair. “You do, Remmick.”

He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, muffled against your skin. “If this is a dream, don’t you dare let me wake.”

“It’s not,” you promised. “This is real.”

You felt him smile against your neck, faint but there, and your heart swelled so full it almost hurt.

The sunlight bathed you both, the warmth settling over his trembling frame, and you held him tighter, whispering again and again that he was safe. That he was home.

And as his tears finally slowed, he tilted his head back, eyes closed, face tipped toward the morning sky as though he couldn’t bear to waste a single second of it.

Your fingers threaded through his, squeezing gently.

And for the first time in centuries, Remmick let himself stand in the sun.

[loupiotesworld]

Luxury hits different when you’re from the cut

Rafe Cameron x bimbo!pogue!reader

Warnings : fluff fluff fluff

It was just another sticky, sun-drenched summer day in the Outer Banks. The salty breeze tangled in your bleach-blonde extensions as you strutted barefoot across the sand, pink lip gloss glistening under the Carolina sun. You were a pogue, through and through—cutoffs, tan lines, and a knack for turning heads. But also? A total bimbo. You liked your lashes long, your outfits tight, and your daydreams bougie.

And somehow, against every odd, you were dating Rafe Cameron. Yeah—that Rafe. Kook royalty with money to burn and a reputation that could make your mama faint.

You didn’t care. He was intense, protective, and weirdly sweet when it comes to you. Plus, he listened when you talked about stupid stuff that mattered to you, like how you’d been obsessed with this pink Miu Miu bag since forever. You’d seen it once in a magazine your cousin stole from a rich tourist’s beach house.

“It’s so perfect,” you’d told him one night, lying across his bed, twirling a fake diamond ring on your finger. “But it costs, like, my rent for three months.”

Rafe didn’t say much then—just looked at you with those stormy eyes of his, thumb brushing your hip.

A week later, he picks you up in his boat.

“You look hot,” he says, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. “Get in, babe.”

You giggle—like always—and hop aboard, letting the breeze whip your pink bikini.

Eventually, he pulls the boat up to the dock behind Tannyhill, the water calm and glittering in the late afternoon sun. He hops out first, tying it off like he’s done it a million times — probably because he has — then turns back to help you off like a gentleman. Well… like his version of one: one hand gripping yours, the other still holding a half-finished beer.

You follow him up the dock, past the trimmed hedges and stone steps, and through the back door of the Cameron estate. It’s quiet inside — too quiet — and you immediately clock that the place is empty. No Ward. No Rose. Just you, him, and that soft hum of central air and money.

And there, sitting pretty on the glass coffee table in the middle of the living room like it’s the centerpiece of a museum exhibit, is a sleek white shopping bag with black ribbon handles — designer, no doubt. It practically glows against the cold neutral tones of the Cameron house.

You freeze. “Wait… what is that?”

Rafe just drops onto the couch, his legs spread wide like he owns the entire island. “Go ahead,” he says, nodding toward it with that cocky little smirk. “Open it.”

You pull the bag closer, open it —and freeze. Your heart skips.

There it is. The bag. The pink Miu Miu bag. The one from the magazine, the one from your dreams. Glossy, perfect, bougie as hell.

You just stare. “Rafe…”

“Yeah?”

You blink a few times. Your fake lashes start fluttering like they’re about to fly off your face. “I think I’m gonna cry. Like, actually cry.”

Rafe’s face softens. “Hey, baby—don’t. Why’re you crying?”

“I’ve never had something this nice. Like—ever. You don’t get it. I used to stare at this bag online, screenshot it, zoom in on the stitching like a weirdo. It was, like… a dream.”

Tears stream down your cheeks.

“I’m a pogue, Rafe,” you say, voice cracking. “Pogues don’t get Miu Miu bags.”

He get up from the couch and walks toward you, pulling you into his chest, wiping under your eye with his thumb. “You do now. You’re my pogue.”

You sniffle, clutching the bag like it’s sacred. “I’m gonna cry again.”

He laughs into your hair. “It’s a bag, babe.”

“No—it’s a lifestyle,” you say dramatically, causing him to snort.

You peck his lips like, maybe 10 times. “Thank you, thank you thank you! You’re, like, the best sugar daddy and boyfriend ever.”

“I’m offended,” he smirks. “I’m way too hot to be a sugar daddy.”

You giggle again. “Okay, fine. You’re a sugar zaddy.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling — that rare, real smile he only ever shows you.

You glance at the bag, fingers tracing the stitching like it’s made of magic, then look back up at him, eyes shining. “I love you, Rafe. For real. No one’s ever made me feel like this before.”

For a second, he just stares at you — like you caught him off guard. Then his whole expression softens, his arm tightening around your waist.

“I love you too, baby,” he says, voice low and a little rough. “Always.” He lowers his head and kisses you softly. A kiss full of love.

And that day, with your dream bag clutched in one hand and Rafe’s arm around your waist, you felt like the baddest, luckiest pogue in all of OBX — and for once, completely loved.

[nekoboydreams]

HELLO, first of all I hope you are doing very well today, and secondly I am sorry if my English is not good and cannot be understood very well, I do not speak Portuguese or English so I will use the translator

I was really hesitating about doing this since I'm really shy, but look, it has a fan who comes from Mexico, I found out about your game on a tiktok video and it intrigued me so much so I started watching more of it and now I'm completely obsessed with it and Pierrot, so as soon as I can I'll support the game with Patreon since I really liked it, I even told my friends about the game so they would play it and several of them loved it too, I would like to ask you some questions, only if you want to answer them, maybe you have many others to answer and that's fine, as long as you read me I will be more than satisfied

1. Did you draw inspiration from any other game to create The Freak Circus?

2. I read recently that characters are capable of killing each other out of jealousy. Is that true? I'm sorry if you answered this question before. You can skip it if you want.

3. Can characters change their outfits or are the ones they wear part of their "body" so to speak?

4. Will the name of the fifth character be revealed when Chapter 2 comes out or could it be announced before the update?

If you answer the questions I want to thank you very much, I am really a very shy person and I don't usually do these things, but I am really intrigued, I love your game

Hello! I'm really glad you're enjoying it! Thank you for the kind words and support!

I don’t think there was any specific game that inspired the story, but the idea of drawing the tickets and food came from Mushroom Oasis. In that VN, the yandere character cooks, and the dishes are always shown I found it so cute that I ended up adopting that idea for showing certain things.

Oh yes, they’d definitely kill out of jealousy if the MC doesn’t step in.

Yep! They change outfits and everything, but in public they either wear their circus uniforms or stay completely covered.

I’ll be announcing his name very soon in an image!

I’m really happy you were able to overcome your shyness to come talk to me I know how much effort that must’ve taken!

[realcube]

what’s ur thoughts on kenma with a cosplayer partner??

a/n ;; omg thank you anon for planting this seed in my mind.. i have so much to say about this

tws + tags ;; nsfw minors dni. mentions of sexual harassment (?). vaginal fingering. anal. slight daddy kink. him just being weird.

KENMA X COSPLAYER! READER

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ he is and will always be your #1 fan

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ he loves seeing you get all dolled up in your costumes and hearing how excited you get when you are gushing to him over the next cosplay you're planning to execute

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ and ofc he'll do everything he can to support you: from helping you pay for 3D printed props, to being your model while you style wigs, or even just giving you ideas and suggestions on how to elevate a look

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ additionaly, if you are one of those people who like to post their cosplays on your social medias, he'll repost your looks to his story like clockwork. since he's a pro-gamer and ceo, he's got a sizeable audience so ofc he's going to summon them to hype you up.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ BUT truthfully, sometimes the way he behaves gives you the impression that he's not fond of your hobby. and that's not true at all, he loves seeing you do whatever makes you happy, no matter what. but he'd be lying if he said the male attention you got from doing it didn't irk him a little.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ often strangers would approach you at cons, claiming to be a fan of yours, then ask for a pic. this act alone didn't provoke kenma. however, an annoying amount of time, the 'fan' asking for a pic would be a grown man — who would disregard kenma's presence entirely and fail to even acknowledge his existence — and during the photo-op, they'd try to get ludicrously close to you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ that's when you'd assert you'd boundaries (or kenma would interrupt) and most of the time they'd back off but kenma loathed the way these men thought they could get away with that shit in the first place. i mean, kenma was also a self-proclaimed virgin loser before he met you but god damn. even he always knew how to treat a woman with basic respect.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ besides that, sometimes when kenma was feeling especially lovey-dovey he'd scroll through your accounts, admiring the gallery of photos of his gorgeous partner. he had a lot of photos in his own phone of you (with far less clothes on), but he still liked the ones on your social media because those were usually professionally done and you resemble a model in them.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ also there's pictures on there from before he even met you

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ he enjoyed going through the images and seeing how much you've grown as a cosplayer. the way your props would become progressively more detailed and your clothed were increasingly intricate. it reminds him that you're not just a pretty face but also extremely talented and passionate too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ oh, but you are a pretty face. there was no denying that. he'd stare at your pictures for hours on end just aghast at how fucking perfect you looked in every last costume. your cute features highlighted by your extravagant makeup, and your curves accentuated by the more form-fitting outfits.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ sometimes his finger would slip and he'd end up in the hellish pit that is your comment section, then curiosity would take over and he couldn't help but doom scroll. it make him sick to witness all the bots and pervs saying such lecherous things about you. they seriously don't have any shame and that is revolting. and it never failed to enrage kenma.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ like, yes you have a tight pussy underneath all that armour, he's seen it + used it several times, but what does that have to do with them? they have no right to be commenting shit like that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ eventually he gets tired of all the fanboys fawning over you and walking all over him, so he starts dressing up with you to go to conventions, and of course you're elated bc he's always super cute when he cosplays!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ you'll probably go as many famous pairs like batman / robin, link / zelda, mario / peach etc. but the thing is, although he likes the satisfying part of cosplay that is getting to look like his favourite characters, he hates taking photos. so in all your pics together, you'll be posing romantically / in-character, while he just stands there like this "✌😐"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ oh! also he has this illness where whenever he sees you in a cosplay he finds especially titillating, he'll start acting like a deranged fanboy too. this is especially true if this is an AU where you were a famous cosplayer online before y'all met and he was already a follower of yours. like his inner stan starts to come out.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ less so in public, but certainly when you're in private, he'll have his hands all over you, feeling up and grabbing onto whatever exposed strips of skin he can. his lips will be permanently locked to your general collarbone area, littering kisses all over your supple skin, and refusing to stop even when you whine about how his hickeys are going to ruin your photos (you don't want him to stop..)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ while in public, he likes putting his hands on your waist and shuffling after you where ever you go. like your his prettiest most prized, cherished doll that he just can't let go of.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ however, when you're in private, his touches are far more risque. he'll allow his hands to adventure between your legs, and his slender fingers will either stroke your puffy folds through your silk panties, or poke at your pert asshole. he's just a freak..

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ and what makes it worse is that he doesn't really mind fingering you or not. in fact, he slightly prefers just teasing you and not going the full way because he likes to hear you whine and beg so lovingly. it reminds him that he's the only man who can make you feel like this. he also gets off at watching you writhe and squirm with frustration in his arms.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ and the little shit will whisper such demeaning things in your ears. like when he hushes you gently and says, "shh. don't be like that, cutie. you know daddy's got you. i'm right here.." and he'll say that, while knowing full well that he is the one teasing your dripping entrance with the tips of his fingers. literally the source of your angst.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ew why is he like this :(

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ he's probably not got a full-on daddy kink; he just utters some strange, depraved shit when he's horny for you. cos he loves you. <3

[mytearsricochetm]

Something worth remembering pt.2

Pairing: old man!joel miller x single mom!reader

Summary: Joel almost doesn't call, until he thinks of his Sarah.

Warnings: age gap (30/61), joel's a lonely old man, fluff, first date nerves

Word count: 1.7k

Pt 1: something worth remembering

A/N: not proof read, sorry for any mistakes, english isn't my first language.

He called two days later.

He almost talked himself out of it–telling himself he was too old and broken for someone like to you, that you didn't deserve someone whose knees cracked when he bent over or with a back that hurt when it got cold– but then he thought about his daughter.

She used to try to convice him to go out and meet someone new, "c'mon dad, even uncle Tommy thinks you should get out there" she'd day. One time she even set him up an account in some old dating site– one that doesnt even exist anymore– without his knowlegde and then let him to deal with the messages he had got.

He knew she wouldn't like what she saw if she was alive today. He hadn't had a real relationship in years– hell, the only people he talked to daily were Tommy and the man who owned hardware store a few streets down. He spent his days fixing things that didn't need fixing, carving pieces on wood or playing music on his porch.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't waiting for joel's call.

Something about him drew you in.

It wasn't his attractiveness–although he was extremely handsome– but the way he carried himself despite everything. He had lost his daughter and was still standing. He went to the zoo every year on her birthday to honor her memory despite how painful it could be.

And he had been kind and respectful to you and your daughter, who had already asked you about if you'd see 'Mr. Joel' at least five times in the 48 hours that happened since the day at the zoo.

You had checked your phone more times than usual these past two days. But you still tried to keep your hopes down. You didn't want to be let down if he didn't call. After all he hadn't said 'I'll call you', just a 'thanks'.

But a little after 9 pm, your phone rang and your heart jumped.

You sat up straight, letting it ring one more time before finally picking up.

"Hello?"

There was a pause. A moment where Joel almost panics and hangs up, then finally:

"Hey... It's Joel. From the zoo."

You smiled, putting the phone on speaker as you turned off the TV so you could focus your attention on the call. "Oh. Hi, Joel. I wasn't sure you'd call."

"I know it's late. I'm sorry if i'm bothering you." He muttered. You could hear the self doubt in his voice.

"You're not." You reassured him and he could hear the smile in your voice. "I gave you my number so you would use it."

He sat back in his couch. You could hear the rustling of the fabric before he spoke again. "I just wanted to thank you. For being kind to me that day. And for letting me tag along with you and Sarah."

You paused, your heart fluttering. "You don't have to thank me. I think you walking with us made the day better." You made another pause before adding. "Sarah liked you. We both did."

He smiled, even though you couldnt see him and ran a hand through his jaw. He was trying to take courage to ask you out.

"Well... Then maybe we could go have lunch one day."

You opened your mouth about to say that you were hoping he'd ask you when he cut you off.

"Or breakfast, or dinner or do whatever it is that you wanna do. Sarah can come too." This time his words stumbled out, like he had panicked the second he finished saying lunch. He sighed. "Sorry– i haven't done this in years."

You chuckled,"I'd love to have lunch with you... Just us."

He let out a short laugh, flustered. "Does saturday work? There's this diner close to where i live. Great burgers, but we can go somewhere fancier if want."

You bit your lip, holding back a squeal. "The diner sounds great. I'll see you saturday."

Saturday arrived sooner than you expected.

You changed your outfit four times before landing on the right one. You knew you were just going to diner–it wasn't a high end restaurant–but you wanted to look pretty. You wanted him to think you looked pretty.

You left after Sarah's babysitter arrived, kissing your daughter's forehead before stepping out. She never made a big deal over you leaving–she loved her sitter– but she did make you promise that you'd bring her along next time you saw 'Mr. Joel'.

Joel got to the dinner twenty minutes early.

He had put on his best jeans and shirt. He trimmed his beard and combed his hair.

He never thought he'd tried to impress a woman again. Not at his age. Who's even going to want some old man like me?'

His heart jumped everytime the door opened and someone walked in. He looked up and hoped it was you. He cursed at himself for getting there too early because now he couldn't anything but wait.

He thought he'd wait for at least ten more minutes. But the next time the bell above the door door rang and he looked up–there you were.

The day he met you he realised you were beautiful, but he was so wrapped up in his thoughts and grief to really appreciate it. But now, as he watched you walk in, he felt his heart flutter in his chest.

He stood up to greet you, his ears turning red when you got on your tiptoes and greeted him with a small kiss on his cheek as you mumbled, "hi".

"Hey." He cleared his throat. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks." You said. "You look quite handsome too."

After that inicial awkwardness, chatter fell between you two effortlessly. You talked over burgers, fries, and a shared slice of apple pie.

Joel didn't say much at first, he just looked at you and listened to you talk. You told him about your job, what you did on the weekends, your cat. And about Sarah begging you to take her to ice skating lessons after she saw a movie about it.

He talked about his old contracting job, how he fixes things out of habit now rather than because they were broken, the porch where he sits to play guitar, and his love for coffee. Then he told you a little more about his Sarah with a tenderness that made your heart ache. And he made you burst out laughing when he told you the dating site anecdote and how horrified he had been at some of the messages.

When the checked arrived Joel picked it up and paid without letting you look at it.

He walked you to your car, your hands brushing like you both wanted to reach for the other but didn't dare to.

"I got you something." He said once you reached your car, putting his hand in the pocket of his jacket.

You raised your eyebrows, a surprised and curious look on your face. He handed you a bundle wrapped in cloth tied with a slightly crooked bow.

You opened it carefully. Inside was a carved wooden cat, it's mouth slightly open like he was caught mid-meow.

You stared at him, stunned. You never mentioned liking cats until earlier today.

He chuckled at your surprised expression and answered like he had read yours thoughts. "I heard one meowing while we were on the phone." He paused. "I started carving it when you hung up. Didn't wanna show up empty-handed."

You didn't say anything for a few seconds, too busy staring and running your hands over the tiny details.

"I can't believe you made this..." You looked up, reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze before letting go. "Thanks. I love it."

He handed you a second bundle and you knitted your eyebrows in confussion. "This one for Sarah. It's an otter."

This man just kept surprising you.

You were used to having guys look at your daughter like she was a burden, something they had to deal with. Joel had managed to connect a with her from the moment he met her. And now not only brought a gift for you, but one for her as well.

"You should be the one to give it to her." You handed him the wrapped bundle. "She's home waiting for me."

Joel opened his mouth like he didn't know what to say. "I-I don't want to intrude."

You shook your head. "I wouldn't be telling you if i didn't want you to come."

When you got home, Sarah was on the living room floor playing with her dolls, narrating some weird story out loud.

When she noticed you, she ran towards you and briefly hugged your legs before turning to Joel.

"Mr. Joel! You came!" She beamed.

"Yeah, I came to bring you something." He said as he crouched down so he could be at her eye level.

"Like a present?"

Joel nodded and reached inside his pocket, pulling out the wrapped bundle and placed it on Sarah's hand. She gasped, quickly opening it. Inside was an otter laying on it's back, holding a shell to it's chest.

"It's an otter! Like the ones at the zoo."

Joel chuckled and nodded his head. Before he could react Sarah was tugging his hand and making him stand up so he'd follow her to where her dolls were.

"My dolls needed a pet. They told me they were getting lonely." She said with a slight pout before sitting down in and grabbed her dolls again.

"Sarah." You called out. "What do we say?"

She looked at you, then at Joel and said, "thank you, Mr. Joel."

"You're welcome, kid."

He stayed for a while after that. You two drank some tea while you watched Sarah play.

Once the sun started coming down and the air turned cooler, he stood up and said, "I should go."

You told Sarah he was leaving and she gave him a quick hug before you walked him to the door. You leaned against the frame. "I had a great time today."

"Me too." He took a step closer to you, "see you soon?"

You hummed in agreement and his gaze lingered on you for a moment, like he was unsure if he should do something or not. Finally, he leaned down and this time it was him who kissed your cheek, his lips lingering just a second.

"I'll call you."

You watched him turn around and walk to his truck with a giddy smile on your face as you mumbled to yourself, "bye, joel."

Thanks for reading. Please reblog and/or comment if you liked it. Requests are open 🩷

[kurumiumiu]

HUH? – sakusa x reader

she/her!reader, inspired by this song with a funny twist, i love jealous!sakusa

thinking about how sakusa notices you’ve changed.

and he does not like it.

not. a. bit.

you being part of the msby team (corporately, of course) meant always being surrounded by people mostly, sakusa thinks, pretty unimportant to you. but important on a business level nonetheless. he knew that on certain level even, you didn’t like all the attention (as you’ve once confided him) and still you make great efforts for the team to succeed.

you were an overachiever after all, just like him.

then why the hell did your boss thought it was a good idea for you to be with him all the time?

the msby jackals gym starts to get louder, as the team is already warming up for the next game of the season against the ejp raijins. there he founds you, gorgeous as ever in the front row (he’d like to pretend you were there like all the other girlfriends of the team even if you both were nothing yet and your job literally demanded you to be sit there) with not your usual game day outfit. instead being replaced with a beautiful black long sleeved dress, flowy as your personality, and jewelry and an updo he could not just ignore.

he scoffs.

“do you think one of these days he’d actually murder him?” atsumu asks hinata, stretching on the floor while he looked at a really irritated sakusa.

sakusa groans and sends both of them a scary glare.

“i didn’t even answer!” hinata claimed offended he somehow got glared at too “omi-san, i don’t think they both are doing… whatever your head is imagining. he’s only been here for a couple months” he finished trying to cheer him up, searching for bokuto with his eyes for moral support.

the thing is that was absolutely true, he has only been here for months. and ever since that little assistant of yours started working in msby, you’ve had completely changed. and what killed him was the fact that you changed for the better.

you quickly spot him and give a little wave, followed by a very gentle “good luck” and a quiet smile.

he’d noticed, of course he had. how you stopped repeating the same outfit you used to wear whenever you had to go to the office —those rare occasions sakusa and the team could spend a bit more time with you— how out of nowhere, you looked more elegant, more put together. he already thought you were stunning with minimal effort, but seeing you with more structured outfits and just a tad more of make up really left him speechless.

he’d also noticed how you talked more, how that shy self you once shared you were trying to overcome slowly disappeared even if it was just at work. the accesories, the shoes, you way of walking and even your coffee order changed ever since he arrived.

he tried to smile back at you as he walked to his starting position, seriously considering the new option atsumu had proposed.

“even if they did” he starts, voice way to deep and sighing “it’s none of my concern”

as the whistle blows and the gym roars, his teammates get way even more frustrated but still compassionate since they knew kiyoomi sakusa was not a man of many words, and that was pretty stupid to confront his feelings.

sakusa had jealous moments before, he knows how to control himself specially when he was at a proper game. in fact, he has realized the anger worked as fuel for stamina. he’d look back at you every few minutes, not intentionally, his head getting more and more intense. his little spiral started to grow, putting him closer to a great performance.

“sakusa” he thinks he heard miya.

ace point.

“omi-kun” hinata tried while digging into a save.

your assistant, leaning closer.

“sakusa-san” was it his coach?

his lips really close to your ear.

still-

“OH MY GOD” your assistant immediately stood up as a volleyball landed just in front of him, making him quickly back off from you.

sakusa grinned mockingly.

“my bad”

still you definitely knew his aim had always been too precise. and he never fails. you give him a frown look and he immediately stops smiling.

“now what was that?” you caught him off guard, leaning in the doorframe of the locker room with you arms crossed. he jumped out of surprise. you looked expressionless as you sometimes did, which always gave him headaches trying to figure out what was happening in your mind.

he grabbed his bag “none of your concern” he freezes midstep, was that too harsh? he knows maybe it was when he hears you sigh.

“why do i get the feeling you don’t particularly like kentaro-kun?” you ask, he feels a sting in his chest.

“already on first name basis, he must be special” he tries to make it sound like he’s laughing at you, just so you don’t get suspicious. “he is my assistant, i should be nice to him” you reply, laughing.

“well then” he says, holding back.

“i think you’d get along, really” were you blind?

“hard pass”

“and why?” you ponder “he’s your assistant, why should i coexist with him?”

“just… exposure”

“to what? his stupidity?”

“he’s actually really smart”

“really?”

“yeah, he figured out you were in love with me and all”

“he is just stup- huh?” his heart stops, you break into laughter.

“you are not denying it” you tease

suddenly a figure appears from the sides of the door, he who had being waiting outside next to you hidden well enough so kiyoomi couldn’t spot him. you raise your hand in a gentle motion and a 10,000 yen bill falls on it, specially draw from his wallet.

he looks at sakusa, annoyed. “seriously man, i give her all this transformation for you to finally confess and it takes me to finally break in? pathetic.” he groans as he gazes to you, in desperation. and before sakusa can say other thing you just casually say as if it were nothing:

“so, tonight or tomorrow for our first date?”

his eye twitches.

[fairy-jeongin-24]

-------------------------------------------------------

Summary: Y/N is a bunny hybrid who hides herself because of how hybrids get treated. Her friend sets her up on a date, but the guy is a no-show. What happens when the white rabbit meets a seductive snake hybrid who is a bartender?

Genre: angst (a tiny bit if you look). fluff. smut.

Warning: cussing, smut, hybrids get mistreated.

*PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK*

*THIS IS PURELY FICTION*

(This oneshot is for my pookie @jagibangbangchan !!! It is her birthday today, and this is a birthday gift to her! I hope you enjoy it, pookie! And I do hope you all who follow me enjoy it as well!)

Part one

Part two

-------------------------------------------------------

Y/N's POV:

"In other news, a fight broke out between a fox hybrid and 5 humans. The fox hybrid was approached by the humans from what the footage gave us this morning...."

I don't pay attention to what the women said after that. This is like every day with hybrids and humans.

For decades, we have had hybrids and humans. You were either one or the other. Me. I'm a bunny hybrid who was adopted by humans. They treated me like someone, but taught me to hide myself. Because.....of how the world is.....

I sigh and put in some cookie dough in the oven.

"N/N."

I look up and see San clocking in for work. He's a hybrid like me. He's an orange cat hybrid. He is my guy best friend.

"Sannie! I thought you had today off?" I tilt my head in confusion.

"Well, I did. But Yeosang got sick and won't let me take care of him. He told me to come to work. He felt bad for me to stay and get sick. He also gave me the puppy eyes. So I couldn't say no." He pouted.

"Aww, well, he didn't want you to be sick. I'm sure he will get better soon, don't worry." I rub his back gently.

"You're right. I just overthink." I pet his hair and he purrs a little.

"Do not stress, my Sannie. It's ok."

I hear the bell go off, which means someone walked in. I look and see my other best friend, Lily. She has been my best friend since Middle School. She is human and.....She thinks I am just a regular human, but have hybrids as friends.

She isn't rude to hybrids nor ever said anything bad about them, but when I was younger, I couldn't tell her because of my parents. They did not want me to tell everyone.

Which I understand. I still go by it to this day. I do trust her, but....I do not know how she will react.

"Lily! What's up?!" I say happily.

"Well, I have a surprise for you! I have set you up on a date with.....Greg!" She squeals. Greg is a guy who works as a chef at the restaurant where she works.

San looks at her with a confused look. I look at her and try to not make a face. Really? A blind date with a guy she works with.

"A blind date? Lily, I told you, no."

"Y/N, you told me you wanted to date."

"Yeah, with meeting people. Not by blind dating. I do not know Greg."

"Y/N, come on. Just one date with him! He's a nice guy!" She pleaded.

I sigh and look at her. She grabs my hand and makes a puppy dog face.

"Can I at least think about it?" I ask her.

She smiles.

"Yes! Do think about it and let me know!" She squeals and walks out of the cafe.

San looks at me.

"Are you actually going to go out with that guy?"

"I don't know..."

"He might be a human who hates hybrids...." He says with a scared tone.

"Look, I'll think about it, Sannie," I tell him to calm down. He hugs me. I hug him back.

"If you do go on a date with him, please be careful." He mumbles on my shoulder. I nod gently.

-------------------------------------------------------

(The day of the date)

I told Lily that I would try the blind date with Greg. She squealed and helped me pick a dress.

We set up a date at a restaurant near my house. The restaurant is called "Andrew's", and the day we picked was Thursday, and I was nervous about this date.

I put on the red dress, the one Lily picked out, and makeup. I put on my shoes and grab my purse. I put on a hat to match the outfit. But also to hide my ears. I walk out the door.

It took 10 minutes to get to the restaurant. I get a table and wait for Greg.

I look at every face coming into the restaurant and sigh. I hope Greg is nice...

"Hello, welcome to "Andrew's"! My name is Yunho, and I will be your server today. Would you like a glass of wine to start the night?" The waiter Yunho asks me.

"Oh um can you wait like 5 minutes, please? My date is almost here." I ask.

"Of course. I'll be back in 5 minutes." He says and walks away.

I smile and look at my phone. Wonder if he'll show up on time.

-------------------------------------------------------

*20 minutes later*

I look at my phone and it is 20 minutes and I do not see Greg at all. I look at every face that walks in, and no one looks in my direction or looks like the picture that Lily sent me.

I start getting worried. I try to text Lily and.....no response. I get antsy.

"Miss....would you like to order now?"

I get nervous.

"Um I guess water and a salad please...."

He bows with pity and walks away. I feel like crying a bit but I wait.

*after the food came*

I ate and still a no show with Greg. I sigh and grab my purse.

"Miss....because he never showed up....you can have the salad on the house. We usually do this when....well you know..."

I nod and grab my wallet. I hand him a 20.

"This is for being so generous and patient with me." I smile.

He smiles and bows respectfully.

"Thank you, Miss! I'm sorry about your date. But I promise you'll find someone better. Have a better night Miss."

He walks away. I get up and walk out of the restaurant.

I can't believe it.....he stood me up. What the hell?!

As I curse him out in my mind, I stumble upon a bar. A bar called "Utopia". Is this a new place? Should I really drink?

.........fuck it.

I walk in and see a band performing and a few people talking. Wait.....they aren't human....hybrids!

I walk up to the bar, and a man is behind the counter. He doesn't notice me.

"Excuse me?"

The man turned around and I am looking at the most handsome man I have ever laid my eyes upon. Long black curly hair. Deep brown eyes. Full lips. Woah..........

He smiles at me.

"Well, aren't you a doll. I haven't seen you here before."

His voice is so deep. Oh my god.

"Y-Yeah, my name is Y/N."

"My, you're adorable. I am Seonghwa, and I will be your bartender. So, what can I get you?"

"Um...well....um.....do you have...um....red wine?"

"I do! You're in luck, love." He grabs a glass, pours one for me, and slides it to me. I grab it and sip it.

"This is amazing!" I smile.

He smiles.

"Good, my heart would break if the beautiful bunny didn't like it."

I stop and look up at him.

He stops smiling.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No....it's just...." I look nervous and look around. I see a lot of hybrids who work here. Should I???

I sigh and take my hat off. My ears come out. He looks and.....he smiles again?

He giggles, and he closes his eyes. He looks back at me with....wait.....snake eyes???

He's a snake hybrid??!!

"My dear, you don't have to hide here. I'm sure you've seen the hybrids here. So, do not hide here. It is okay. We protect each other here." He smiles at me.

I smile and sip my drink.

-------------------------------------------------------

*a few hours went by*

I drank only one drink and kept talking to Seonghwa. He really has helped me feel better tonight. He is so sweet and gentle. He smiles that lifts my heart up.

"So, that asshole stood you up?" He says with venom in his voice.

I nod sadly.

"You do not deserve that, bunny. You do not deserve a stupid man who will do that. So, forget about him."

I blush and nod. I look around to see that the people have left. I grab my phone to see it was 11:00 pm. Oh....how did it get so late?

"I hate to do this, but it is closing time, bunny." He whispers to me.

I pout and look at him. I put my phone in my purse and sigh.

"Oh, sweet bunny, do not pout. It is ok. How about I drive you home?"

"It's okay, I am nearby," I say softly.

He looked hurt when I said that.

"But, you could walk me home," I say with a smile.

He brightens up with a smile.

"Well, let me clean the counter real quick, and I'll walk you home."

I nod and sit down to wait for him.

He finishes in 15 minutes and comes to me.

"I'm done, my bunny." He says with a teasing smile. I get up and smooth my dress. We walk out of the bar, and he locks the door. He walked back to me, and we walk to my house.

We get there, and I look at him.

"So um......when.....do you have to work again, Seonghwa?"

"Monday. So, I have a few days off. Why so curious about it, bunny?"

"Oh! Well, um....if you want....we can....um..."

"Is this bunny wanting to go on a date?" He teases me.

"Well, no.....I wanted to see if.....you wanted to go to a cafe with me....." I whisper.

He smiles and kisses my cheek.

"I would love that. But it has to be Saturday. I want to sleep in a little tomorrow." I smile happily. He holds out his hand.

"Can I put my number in your phone, my dear bunny?"

I nod and hand him my phone. He smiles and puts his phone number in my phone. He hands it back to me.

"Text me, my dear bunny." He walks away, and I blush like crazy.

Well....it wasn't some human name, Greg, that made me happy. It was....a beautiful snake hybrid named Seonghwa. I can not wait to see him again.

-------------------------------------------------------

Hello, my dear readers!

This story is for a wonderful person I know. We met through an amazing story she wrote. I commented on it, and I sent her a message complimenting it a lot. We kept talking and became best friends after that. One day, I found out Ateez was going on tour, and one of the stops was near me. I was excited, and a friend of mine said we would go together, but she snubbed me and bought a ticket for herself. I was a crying mess because I thought I wouldn't see them and that my friend snubbed me. But I talked to my best friend, whom I wrote this story for, and I asked if she wanted to go with me. She said yes, and I bought her and my ticket the next day. I had a wonderful time, and she helped me make my first Kpop concert amazing and not as nerve-wrecking. She is a wonderful human being who is kind-hearted, funny, sweet, pretty, and amazing. I am happy to have her in my life. I hope you enjoyed this story, pookie, and I hope you are having a wonderful birthday, pookie! 💜🩷🌷❤️

Also, the 1st chapter of the Mafia story is on the way. But, I will be doing more oneshots for each member as well as working on the Mafia story. I will do a part 2 of this story. Just after I post a oneshot of each member. And more of the Mafia story. I hope you all enjoyed this, and I hope everyone has a wonderful day!🩷💜

Love,

Fairy Luna 🧚🏼‍♀️🌷🦊

[byerfart]

RUNDOWN OF ALL THE DETAILS! vvv (just for you 🩷)

I had the clocks there obviously because vecna is correlated with clocks, so I had the hands pointed towards 7 and 11 (byler and el)!

I added a lot of references to s5 ep7 because of MW705 of course #neverforget. There is also a reference to this on the yellow pricetag and the tv in the middle on the far right. There are multiple stickers plastered on the tvs, including a fireball, a heart (you’re the heart!), a broken heart, and a wizard hat on will’s head (partly covered by the 5 in the top left). There is a 7 up can to reference the scene of byler on the car, where mike drinks the soda, and also.. it was a 7 #bylerendgame.

Vecna replacing one of will’s eyes was not just me being lazy.. (okay maybe a little) but also because there are theories that will may lose an eye, which i thought would be fun to incorporate. Will is also referred to as the spy in s2, and I had a vision of vecna watching mike and everything through will because of this fact (this is also seen on the missing poster).

Speaking of the missing poster, I thought that maybe vecna would use will going missing as a weapon against mike, since the bullying for will translated onto mike as well during this time.

In the sketch, there was going to be a nod to flickergate and churchgate, but I decided against adding them because of clutter and something else. For context, there was going to be a dim lightbulb in the corner to reference flickergate, as i said before. The problem was, I didn’t want anything to distract your attention TOO astray from the fact that Will is the source of light, as that is usually how we see him through Mike’s perspective

(the way he is his light im gagged.. the way his light is shining on him and he’s looking up in awe.. my mind..).

Notice how will is surrounded by a bright white room, I wanted it to look as though he was the reason the light was there somehow, like he was some sort of spirit. Similarly, I wanted it to resemble a school photograph to pull your mind back to s1 and s2.

Mike is also wearing his main s4 outfit because I think vecna would bring him back to one of his s4 memories to torture him.

The tvs are supposed to be from the 70s-80s!

And lastly, if I didn’t forget anything, the moving boxes! It does make sense to think that the boxes are there for tvs, but everything in the drawing is meant to be from mike’s memory. They are supposed to resemble the boxes the byers used to pack up, like the 7 up can being there because of the scene i mentioned earlier.

Omg crazy spam im sorry

Holy word salad

The concept of Mike seeing Will everywhere if he was vecnad..

15 hrs total of time spent on this art

W tumblr debut

[savvyscribbleswriting]

Pairing: Clark Kent/Superman (as portrayed by David Corenswet) x fem!Reader

Summary: You buy some lingerie that reminds Clark of Beauty and the Beast. He can’t help but get turned on, even after a night of being Superman.

Format: Short Story

Word Count: ~1.9k

Genre: Romance; Hurt/Comfort

Additional Tags/Warnings: no use of (Y/N); vague description of an alien attack; descriptions of injuries; reader wears lingerie that shows off her goodies; heavy makeout session; implied sexual situations; Ma and Pa Kent make a small appearance; sorry if you disagree with my choice of Clark’s favorite Disney movie/princess

Author’s Note: My interest in Superman (2025) grew steadily over time. Now that I’ve seen the movie, David Corenswet’s Clark Kent/Superman is now on my mantle of characters I will write for!

This was supposed to be smut. However, given that it’s my first time writing for Clark Kent/Superman, I decided to tone things down to ease myself into things.

This is story is part of an unofficial collection of lingerie-inspired pieces featuring a couple other characters I write for. I’m curious to see which one lands on your homepage first. Enjoy!

P.S. The lingerie set that Reader has is this. I WAS NOT ASKED NOR AM I GETTING PAID IN ANY WAY FOR MENTIONING THIS LINGERIE SET!!! I JUST SAW THIS ON TIKTOK AND WAS INSPIRED!!!

P.P.S. I DO NOT OWN SUPERMAN IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM!!! I ALSO DO NOT OWN BEAUTY AND THE BEAST IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM!!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you were to ask Clark what his favorite Disney movie was, he’d say Beauty and the Beast.

Ma played it quite a bit when he was young because she was rather fond of the romance of it all, so much so she would often joke that she found her own beast with Pa. The only thing that Clark would admit was cool was the talking silverware and furniture. Anything related to romance would make him pull a disgusted face.

Overtime, however, he began to appreciate the film more. It had beautiful animation, the songs were catchy, and he started to finally get its themes on love and acceptance. He hoped one day to find his own Belle, someone was able to look past the beast to find the beauty within... or in his case, look past the Superman to love the Clark Kent.

He finally found what he was looking for in you years later. You were smart, loved to try new things, and above all loved and took care of Clark Kent as much as you did Superman. He was so grateful to have a beauty like you in his life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had a great date night planned.

First, you went out and bought the ingredients for Clark’s favorite dinner. Next, you picked up a few new candles to set the mood. Then, you went by the boutique down the road and bought the lingerie set that you had been eying ever since you and Clark started dating. When you made it back to your shared apartment, you quickly got to work cooking and arranging everything. Once all of it was done, you went into the bedroom and tried on your purchase.

The entire outfit was in a nice shade of yellow. The top was pretty sheer and had flower decorations leading up to the thin straps. It was also stretchy, which was great for when Clark wanted to pull it down to play with your breasts because that was for sure going to happen. You twirled and posed in front of the mirror as all sorts of thoughts ran through your head.

You managed to tear away from your reflection long enough to look at the clock on the nightstand and see that Clark was due home any minute. You quickly grabbed your silk robe and went back out to make sure everything was in place. You then took a seat at the table, one leg crossed over the other and your arms draped over the chair in a seductive manner, and stared at the door.

That lasted for about ten minutes before you got tired and tried a more relaxed pose.

That lasted for another ten minutes before you slumped over the table, your hand barely holding up your head.

An hour later, you were up and putting everything away in plastic containers.

Clark would usually let you know if something normal unexpectedly came up. If something super came up, however, he was basically a ghost. You understood and accepted that to a certain extent. You couldn’t deny that it hurt in the moment, though, especially when you put as much time and effort into something as you did that night.

You were blowing out the candles and thinking about where you could hide your lingerie for next time when you saw something out of the corner of your eye. You turned around and gasped.

There he was, Clark as Superman, beaten up pretty badly yet still able to fly.

You bit your lip as he cautiously made his way inside. Once his feet hit the ground, his body lurched forward a little. You immediately raced to him and tried to hold him up, even though he was bigger than you. He let out a cough and a smile as he turned to you. “Honey, I’m home,” he joked. You sighed and helped him over to the couch.

You gently sat Clark down before getting a good look at him. He had a big bruise along his jaw and scratches on his cheeks and forehead. His lip was slightly busted, as were his knuckles. You could only imagine what injuries he had underneath his suit.

“I’m going to take this off, okay?” Clark nodded and helped you as best as he could. He moved however you told him to as you slipped off his cape, top, boots, and bottoms. As you undressed him, you engaged him in some light conversation. “What happened?”

“Alien attack.”

“I thought so. You usually don’t come back this hurt unless it’s aliens.”

He smirked. “You should see the aliens.”

“Are they dead?”

“No. They’ve been sent to an intergalactic prison.”

You hummed in agreement as you removed the last of the clothing. Clark was now only in his underwear. His torso was absolutely littered with bruises of all shapes and colors. You’ve seen him come back hurt plenty of times, but it didn’t stop you from shedding a tear or two every single time.

Clark gave you such a sympathetic look, like he wasn’t the one seriously injured. You swiftly wiped away your tears and stated, “I’m going to find some stuff to cover up your wounds, okay?”

He nodded and watched you make your way to the bathroom. You came back with the first aid kit and a wet cloth to clean up any and all blood. You stood in-between his legs as you worked. You started by gently dabbing over the affected areas. Clark’s muscles clenched slightly at the contact, but he toughed it out. You then wrapped up his knuckles and put wide bandaids over his scratches.

Once you were done, you took a step back to observe your work. It’d be alright until the sun came up and Clark could heal properly. In the meantime, he held out his arms for a hug. You obliged but tried to be mindful of the bruises. That didn’t stop him from pulling you in closer so you were sitting on his lap and your head was resting in the crook of his neck.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered.

“This is actually very healing,” he said.

You giggled at that. “Right. Next you’re going to tell me to kiss your boo-boos better.”

Clark pretended to think about it before responding, “Well, now that you mention it…”

You rolled your eyes as you leaned in to kiss him. Your lips then moved to his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, each of his hands, and you lowered yourself to reach the bruises along his chest.

While you worked, Clark stared at you with such adoration in his eyes… until they caught a flash of yellow underneath your partially-opened robe.

“What’s that?” he pointed out.

You looked down and suddenly remembered the other part of your surprise for Clark. You jumped up and back to wrap yourself up. “It’s-It’s nothing!” you stuttered.

Clark gave you a pointed look. “It doesn’t seem like nothing if it’s got you acting like this.”

You bit your lip. Was this really the best time for your surprise? Clark seemed to think so because he gave you his best puppy dog eyes and pleaded, “Come on. Show me. Please?”

You sighed. You could never deny your sweet, hunky boyfriend anything. So, you took your time undoing your robe, letting it fall from each shoulder, then having it fall to the floor.

Clark inhaled sharply at the sight in front of him.

You looked like Belle.

It finally hit him that you were Belle.

You were Belle taking care of the Beast, him, after he nearly died in a vicious attack.

He doesn’t know why that made him so hard, but it did.

You couldn’t see it, though. You began to squirm in place and look at anything but him. “I thought this might be a nice way to end the night,” you explained sheepishly.

“You thought right,” Clark finally breathed out.

Your jaw dropped at that remark. Did you hear that right?

“Come here,” he beckoned you towards him.

You got your answer when, once you were a mere few inches away from him, he pulled you into his lap again. Your thighs were on either side of his legs. You instinctively braced yourself on his shoulders, the one place that wasn’t injured. You looked into Clark’s eyes, which were blown wide with such desire.

Even after everything that he had been through tonight as Superman, Clark Kent was hot for you.

You weren’t too sure it was a good idea, though. “Clark-” you started. He silenced you by surging forward to kiss you. You tried to pull back, but his grip on you was strong. “Clark, please-” you tried talking against his lips, but they dominated you. Your efforts were made harder when his tongue entered your mouth. You let out an involuntary moan at the action. His hands moved from your thighs to your ass, massaging each cheek with care.

“Clark-“ you tried again, but his mouth on your neck shut you up again. He sucked and licked various spots that made you gasp. “Clark… Oh, Clark…!” Your hands found their way into his hair, creating small circles against his scalp. He only stopped his attack on your neck to let out a blissful sigh.

It wasn’t until he tried to grind up into you that you came back to your senses. “Wait! Wait, Clark!” Your hands returned to his shoulders to stop him. “You’re hurt,” you explained. “I don’t want to make things worse.”

“You won’t,” he insisted, squeezing your ass. His puppy dog eyes returned, but you were stronger this time. He didn’t let it deter him. “Please, honey. I want you. I want to feel you against me.” He squeezed you again for emphasis, which you couldn’t deny felt good. “We can be careful,” Clark attempted to negotiate. “We don’t have to do much. We can take it slow. You can even be in charge over what we do.”

The wheels in your mind churned over the idea. You looked between his injuries, which really needed time to relax, and him, who wouldn’t relax until he had you.

With a deep sigh and a small smile, you finally answered, “Okay.”

Clark’s eyebrows raised up in surprise. “Okay?” he echoed.

“Okay,” you nodded.

He let out a dopey smile and one last, “Okay.”

In one swift motion, he grabbed your legs, wrapped them around his waist, and stood to lift you up. You couldn’t help but scream and hold him by his neck. “Clark!” you exclaimed as he carried you to the bedroom.

“What?! We’re going to need plenty of space, and I think our large, soft bed is more ideal than the couch!”

You couldn’t argue against his reasoning or stop yourself from letting out a breathy laugh.

You two kissed the rest of your way inside the bedroom towards the bed. Before you could fall back into it, you made Clark put you down and reposition himself so he’d go down first. He fell backwards gently, rather gracefully, then scooted his way up to the pillows. You followed him on your hands and knees, crawling towards him with a gleam in your eye. His smile got wider as you got closer.

As for the rest of the night… well, that’s a tale as old as time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author’s Note 2: Electric Boogaloo: Thank you so much for making it to the end! I ask that you NOT post this story as your own, please. Instead, give it a like/review/bookmark/reblog/all of the above wherever you read it.

Archive of Our Own

Masterlist

[changelingsandothernonsense]

POV You get home from a particularly long escort job to Khuul and find your stay at home boyfriend has been locked in a battle with the Dwemeri letter M since 2am yesterday.

...at least he's wearing pants today...

Part 2 of 2 of Saturday art dump. Or I wanted to draw Joshi's lounge robes... the ones that involve pants at the very least. He prefers loosely fitted garments if he has to wear something, and pants are a huge sensory problem for him. So if he finds a pair he likes, he'll buy 10 of them. In this case, he's wearing a set made from Ashland silk that are dyed crimson. They are meant to hang loosely and are secured with a sash. The robe that he's wearing is a lighter spun fabric. He just likes how sheer fabric looks on him. He's a fan of a good pair of shoes and has these slippers fitted with his prosthesis in mind. The bandages are compressions for his burns.

I also am toying with an Arkanis fic idea. Involves Josh and Erra rescuing Erra’s ex from an unmapped Sixth House base. There's a whole chunk of time where Josh and Erra are staying in Maar Gan (waiting for Josh to get used to sharing his brain with the Revenge Tulpa so that Nerevar isn't always fronting/ trying to settle the resulting uptick in seizures). He's meant to be resting, but ya boi struggles with boredom, so he's making a dent in trying to crack the Hanging Gardens of Wasten Coridale stele.

He doesn't remember what blinking is. Someone get him out of his cave so that he might remember he still has mortal needs!

He heated those noodles 5 times on auto pilot and is forgetting it exists again, and he's spilled his matze.

Just been in a outfit design mood I guess...

[pansy-picnics]

varian wears those boots from his s3 outfit for like. forever. like he will wear those things until they literally start falling apart at the seams. i know it deep in my heart to be true. once hugo who is DEEPLY concerned for him went and bought new ones for him and hes like “whats wrong with the ones i have now???” and hugos like “……youve had them since you were 16???”

hugos begging him to at least try them on so varian finally does and he and his evil autism are just like. They feel weird i dont like them

hugo: no see you have to wear them for a while and then you get used to them. thats how new shoes work. its magical

varian: I dont want to do that my old ones work fine

hugo: …okay should i just take them back if you don’t want them?

varian: No you bought them for me

hugo: Var its okay i dont want them to just sit around if you arent gonna wear the

varian: No i’m keeping them