#this came to me in a fever dream im sorry

[vesrin]

I don't have any context nor explanation either

[meowpupp]

we need more puppy girl reader pls!!!

say less 🙏

1.4K- owner!price x chubby!puppygirl

TW- puppy play, degradation, cum play, exhibitionism(?), humiliation, sorry if you have a stuffed toy called 'fluffy,' general rough sex, HYBRID FIC, price is jealous over a stuffed bear, 

owner!price who decides you’ve been so good recently, so good in fact that you deserve a treat.

he sees it when he’s in cue for petrol- a cute stuffed bear. soft brown fur, fuzzy ears and big eyes. just like his favourite pup.

when he first gives you the plush it’s innocent. you give it a dumb name, fluffy or something. he doesn’t pay much mind. all he cares about is how happy his pup is, tail wagging and excited yaps.

after days of being sidelined by some stupid ball of fluff, price starts to get jealous. he knows it’s irrational. the bear is just something you entertain yourself with when he can't, but jealousy still stirs in his gut.

it’s like fluffy glares triumphantly at him when you give him attention. price watches in envy as you lazily chew on its ears, nuzzle and lick its fur. all things you used to do to him.  

one day, it gets too much for him. after a painful workday, all price wants is his sweet puppy girl. Instead, he walks into the house to see you cuddled up with the fucking bear. its beady eyes stared back into his as if saying, ‘ha-ha, she likes me more.’

he’s on you in an instant, ignoring your yelp as he pulls you up. price makes you kneel, pushing you back down when you try to get up.

“what, want your bear?” he scoffs at you, your brain still sleepy, trying to play catch up, “c'mon then, since you want it so much, ride it.”

it takes you a moment to process what he’s saying. ride it? Ride Fluffy? but he’s your bear- soft, warm and plush. he’s a toy, but not that kind of toy.

before you can even reply, price grips your jaw with one of his big hands. his skin is rough and calloused, almost scratchy as he manhandles you.

“are you deaf pup? or perhaps you think you only take orders from the fucking bear now?” price shakes your face side to side to catch your attention, “disobedient fucking mutt, don’t even know who your owner is.”

he kicks apart your knees, creating space for him to shove the bear between them. “go on. ride it. hump it like the desperate thing you are.” he takes a step back, arms crossed as he glares down at you.

Price scoffs when you start rolling your hips. His eyes analyse you, how your back arches, how your eyes screw shut, how your lips part as you whine. all while you grind down on your beloved plush.

“yeah… bet it feels good, huh? making your dumb puppy-cunt feel tingly?” the man sits back on one of the couches, lighting a cigar as he watches. “tell me pup, does it feel better than me? do you like riding the bear more than my cock?”

you whine, hips bucking at his growly voice. as you speed up, price laughs. he relaxes on the couch, cigar smoke filling the air, making you dizzy. tells you when to speed up or to slow down. when to grind harder or softer. directs you as if you’re making him a personal porno.

“ah, now look at that.” he stands, setting his cigar down on an ashtray. walking to you, he crouches down, “now pup, look at what you’ve done.”

he pulls the bear plush from between your legs, holding it up. it’s drenched in your slick, fur glistening. “poor Fluffy, you’ve made him a mess.” he sighs, throwing it on the ground, “dirty pup. can’t control yourself can you?” you shake your head, shaky hands reaching for him while you babble. 

his eyes scan over your body as you cling to him. ears low as your thighs tremble. you yap and whine at him- something about how it wasn’t enough, you didn’t cum, to please let you cum. 

Price sighs as if you’re an inconvenience. his eyes linger on your cunt. its dripping with slick, puffy and flushed from all the friction. he meets your gaze. melting at your teary, desperate expression. he doesn’t show it, instead reaching out, repositioning you. your back meets the hardwood, legs forced apart as he slots between them.

price doesn’t even look at you, his eyes trained on your cunt. his fingers poke and prod, parting your lips to watch your clit twitch when exposed. your hips buck as you squirm, causing a hand to grip your thigh and still you.

“such a desperate bitch,” his eyes finally meet yours as he slaps the inside of your thigh, “maybe i should get you a stud, hm? give you to some mutt, let him fuck you? then you’ll know how good i am to you pup.” his fingers start rubbing slow circles on your clit, “simon tells me his mutt is always full of energy. if you get this wet grinding, you’ll be yowling around that pups knot.”

prices eyes dart away from yours, ignoring your babbles as he continues to inspect your cunt. he slides a finger in, eyebrows furrowing. his other hand leaves your thigh, slapping your clit. he lets out shuddering breath as your warm, wet walls clench around hisi finger, his dick twitching.

“getting this fucking wet and loose over that thing?” he glances to the soaked bear, “need to teach you a fucking lesson. who your cunt is supposed to get wet for”

he pulls out, using the hand on your thigh to flip you over. he pulls your ass flush against his hips, a hand in your hair to force your upper body down. the bear lays just in front of you.

he audibly scoffs when you reach out for it, bringing it close for comfort. price pulls your tail, making you instinctively arch your back. he grinds your hips back on him, groaning. “shh, keep fucking still.” he grunts, rutting his clothed dick into you

it takes only seconds for your dripping holes to wet his jeans. even less time for him to unbutton his pants and shove his boxes down. with his cock now free, he thrusts between your thighs.

your slick acts as lube as he fucks the fat flesh of your thighs. “bloody fucking hell.” he growls. his dick just barely pokes out the other side, your thick flesh completely consuming him.

price angels himself, now nudging your clit with every thrust. you whine and squirm pathetically beneath him, back arching as he spanks your ass. he uses the hand in your hair to shove your face into the toy bear, forcing you to inhale the scent of your own slick.

you beg and whine into the plush, your voice now muffled. he continues, not giving in and fucking your cunt, grinning as you start to sob. he presses your face harder against the bear, fucking your thighs the same he would your cunt. his hips slam against your ass, stinging the flesh and making it flush.

within minutes, price cums all over your thighs. thick globs spill down the front of them onto the floor. as he pulls away, he pulls you with him- the hand in your hair forcing you onto your knees.

“look at the mess you’ve made,” he scolds, free hand circling your clit. the bear lays discarded on the floor, stuffing now soaked with drool and slick. there’s a puddle of his cum on the ground, mixing with your fluids. he ignores your babbles as you cry about not cumming, instead he pushing your face to the ground.

“i’ve taught you better than this, love. you know better than to make a mess without cleaning it.” price shoves your cheek into the puddle of his cum, the now cold liquid smearing across your face, “once you’ve cleaned up your mess, ill clean you.”

he lets you up. his hand trailing along your body to your cunt, slipping two fingers in, finally giving you what you’ve been begging for. “might even make you cum, hm?” he slowly thrusts his fingers, “ that floor better be fucking sparkling by the time i come back.” as he pulls out, he slaps your ass agiain. a sadistic smirk spreads over his face as he gets up, taking his cigar with him as he leaves.

tonight you’ll definitely be clinging to him, and not that fucking bear plush. 

[vero-niche]

what if when they destroy the paper or something and the world goes back to normal with a time reverse or something and akutagawa pretends to have forgotten that he died to save atsushi bc he cant deal with the embarrassment and atsushi goes we had a bonding moment! i cradled you- *gunshot*

[tragcdysewn]

closed starter for sha hualing!! ( @mvsicinthedvrk )

"i don't understand the appeal of this store." mobei-jun mutters, following sha hualing through the brightly lit doorway. "it's loud, crowded, and i do not understand why that dog has a bullseye on its eye." it seemed unsafe, unless you were meant to be shooting at it, which he truly doubted.

[kalpasio]

HIIIII I JUST FINISHED READING THE MAFIA AU FIC AND I JUST GOTTA SAY THAT IT WAS AMAZING 😻😻 somehow you managed to make me simp for him even more???? didn’t even know that was possible but here we are ig thank you sm <3 😭😭 -babygirl kalpas anon

I'm really behind on everything I am so sorry 😭😭

AAAAAAAAAA HIII THANK YOUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!! secret evil mission: 'make everyone a Kalpas simp' is working 🧡🧡 also I'm convinced that once you fall for Kalpas there is simply no getting back up. he keeps kicking me back down the stairs someone please help

[spamgyu]

What was that snding i wanna throw up i wanna fight you get back here

Afted im donw w you im fighting oc them mingyu KAAJHSJSJSJAJ

WHAT WAS THAT IM SO FRISTRATED HERE

(Pls my heart hurts so much pls give me mingyu happie babie too)

It's an ending written by someone who wants nothing but chaos

[bitchy-bi-trash]

Dora: hooking up with a fboi: hey hun can you see my clit *silence* Oh where do you see my clit *silence*

Can you find my g spot? *silence*

*after the horizontal judo*

Dora : Oh yeah it's here I'll find it myself *silence* *squeaky sounds* Dora crying...... boots oh boots.....

[eldrith]

˗ˏˋ your lips, my lips ˎˊ˗ Jacaerys Velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x fem!wife!reader words: 5.6k synopsis: you remind Jacaerys that there is no shame in accepting help, especially from his wife. notes: this idea came to me in a fever dream the other day idek. this can be read as an au, it is implied that the dance happened but that luke is alive so idk. as i always say: do what you love. i think jace can be happy for a bit, as a treat. this is honestly like 3k fluff and 2k smut lol. pls lmk what you think <3 warnings: canon-typical injury. jace is so horny and in love that he becomes a poet! light dirty talk(mostly in valyrian bc jace is shy), very very brief breeding kink, slightly sub!jace, praise kink (mutual), slight size kink, hair pulling, pussy whipped jace, PiV creampie, reader rides him. valyrian is translated at the end (author uses a translator so if its wrong im sorry). feedback is appreciated<3 requests open. masterlist.

SHADOWS DANCE. 

Toes cold upon empty stone, you pad across a corridor; short, illuminated in torchlight. A path you’ve taken many times. 

Worry twists your fingers together, toying as you watch the silhouette of your night shift swish upon the contours of the wall. Chamber doors which connect the small hall to your own are open; an afterthought, perhaps, though your husband quite often prefers to slumber with his door to yours drawn open. 

He is hurting. 

Not in any dire way, not by far. Burns, the whispers had reached your ears - from maester to house worker to ladies in wait - burns, across the Prince’s palms; some troubles while handling dragonfire. You have been alive for long enough to have seen dragons dance, see the flesh melt from bones of even those coursing with Valyrian blood in their veins. You cannot imagine the pain of it, lying marred in his palms. 

The maester has seen worse, you are told. He is not in too much pain, to your relief - he is neither sick nor hurting but rather unable to perform any tasks, no matter how menial; something you know your husband will not take lightly. Only a few paces and you reach his chambers, taking in the sandalwood and cedar smoking in small dipped sticks; a favor of his mothers, he told you once. He’s taken to them recently, to the comforting scent; as have you.  

Feet move slowly into the archway; his chambers are always so much warmer than your own. Furs, thicker - bed, more comfortable, hearth, drawn larger. Though it is more likely to do with the company. 

Your husband stands before the mirror of his chambers, his back upon you. 

You watch for a moment - his brows, furrowed in the reflection, a razor is held rather uncertainly in a bandaged grasp. A pang through your stomach at the sight of the gauze, restricting his fingers; a kind glow of candlelight dances across concentrated eyes, once-steady hands trembling as he holds the blade against his cheek, head tilted back. 

Slow breaths - your chest moves with his, as it seems to do more and more these days; a drag of a blade, the wobbling of which sets your teeth upon edge. Such a mundane chore, shaving: yet you know just as most how painful the burns of dragons may be upon flesh.

Your sweet husband is a proud soul; you can almost picture him, resolutely dismissing any offers of assistance before he readied himself for the night. Struggling to wet the razor, to lift it upon his face, yet doing so with a bristling determination. You linger, a specter in the doorway, fingers tracing the stone arch beside you as he works. Slow, determined.  

His chest rises and falls beneath the simple tunic; unlaced, revealing the glimpse of skin awaiting beneath as he clenches his jaw, metal dragging against porcelain. 

Though as soon as you draw a breath, a hiss from him - the razor has slipped, blood thinning in a bloom upon his cheek. Stark against such pale skin. He curses softly, thick brows knitting in some helplessness as his wounded fingers, shaking in pain or perhaps frustration, brush and come away crimson. 

You step forward immediately, concern overriding all hesitations and shyness you’d felt previously.

"Jacaerys," your voice, soft and scarcely a whisper, carries through the room. Through the mirror your husband looks up, his eyes meeting yours. 

A whisper of surprise in his visage that melts into some shade of embarrassment as he turns to you. Your name, falling from his plush lips, bitten in previous exasperation. His voice is warm, guilty. "I did not wish to wake you."

You shake your head softly - he’d not made a single sound since you returned from your evening duties to retire. You learned of his injuries through scarce whispers in the corners of your chamber, not from any loud disruptions from within his own. 

 Ignoring his words, you move closer - feet light, heart aching for his felt helplessness; A crimson tear beads out of the thin cut upon the cut on his cheek. You tilt your head to look into the warmth of his eyes. "You should not be doing this with your injuries," you chide, nodding to the strips of bandage around his palms.

A sigh from him, gentle nod as he looks down upon your expression. "I did not wish to trouble anyone," you find a touch of frustration still coloring his voice, but are not foolish enough to believe an ounce of it could ever be directed towards you. "I am not so helpless." he prepends with a clenched jaw. 

Nodding, you gently take the razor from his loose grip. "No, you are not.” You agree gently, “Sit.” 

You guide him to the table aside the mirror with light hands. He murmurs your name; it slips through his lips like honey. "I do not wish to burden you. It is late, I would not want to keep you awake." 

You cannot help the surge of affection; your husband, so doting, thoughtful. A gentle touch to his cheek, your fingers grazing just under the fresh cut as you swipe away the red. "Sleep can wait.” Your voice is just as gentle as his own. “And you are not a burden; You are my husband. Your troubles are mine."

He sighs, a small appreciative smile growing upon his lips. "I resent being unable to tend to myself." he admits sheepishly.

You run your hands gently over his palm, tracing gently over where gauze conceals marred flesh. “You must heal fully so you might be of aid again soon.” You pull away, crossing the room to retrieve the cloth, oils, and small bowl of water; “In the meantime, there is no shame in accepting help. Especially not from your wife."

His eyes follow you upon your return, your sleep gown swishing against the quiet of the apartments; aware of the semi-sheerness of the fabric, you feel yourself flush. His smile is appreciative.

The bowl makes a small noise as you place it upon the table - you watch the soft illumination of your reflection ripple in the water. “I am a lucky man.” He says, as if to himself; you resist the shy smile that grows upon your lips, looking away from the contents of the bowl and shaking your head gently. He does not seem prepared to leave it be, though: “I scarcely know how I came to deserve someone as wonderful as you.” 

He prefers it like this, you’ve learned; kindness, candor, sweet admissions - flushed cheeks, soft smiles. A true marriage, one being built with respect, with love. And still, moons after your union - every compliment you pay your husband he seems to return tenfold. 

It is content, quiet against the spitting of embers in the hearth as you bend before him, seeking an angle safe enough to press the blade to his skin. A soft conversation, scarcely more than whispers in the eve - though you become weary at the prospect of a safe approach. 

His legs spread wide as he watches you pace - expression somewhere between an amusement and puzzle; You let out a breath in a small huff as you draw a decision.

Your hand falls first onto his shoulder - a steadying grip as you slowly slide onto his lap, positioning yourself to see his face clearly; Jacaerys, with eyes widened in surprise and arms instinctively rising to hold you steady. Despite his injuries, his touch is firm, wrists pressing to you where hands cannot. 

A thick swallow within his throat that you steadfastly ignore. 

The touch of his arms around you, of your thighs straddling his lap - you burn, clearing your throat. Your voice comes, barely more than a breath. "Is this- alright?"

His lips, parted with the proximity, flutter before he finds words. “Y-yes. More than alright.”

With a small grin, you school yourself; pouring the oils upon your palms, you begin to smooth the ointment upon his skin. Cheeks, down the short shadow of stubble he has so resigned to eliminate this evening. A sharp jaw, a strong chin, plush lips. His breath is scarcely more than puffs against your cheeks as you press gently into his jaw muscle; his eyelashes flutter closed. 

When you bring the blade to his skin, it is with no hesitation he tilts his head for you; eyeing you through lids, the apple of his cheeks warm in the light. You release a short breath and begin to shave him with slow, careful strokes. Jacaerys remains still, his eyes fixed - you drag the blade with light pressure, a relief building in you as you begin to effectively remove shadows from his cheek. 

As you continue, the room grows quiet; a soft song of the gentle scrape of the blade and the crackling of the fire. Your heart may have fluttered ceaselessly had you been any less focused on ensuring you do not hurt him; Though there is no doubt - a very handsome man he is, and a very lucky wife he makes you. 

“How did you learn such a skill?” His voice, curious as you tilt his jaw slightly. You do not pull your eyes from your task as you hum gently, aware of his warm stare.

“I’ve never done it before,” you admit, tilting your head along with him, focused on the glide of the blade against the bristled shadow of his jaw. “Though I watched my lord father do it many times. He’d often have me sing to my younger brothers before they were put to chamber - he tended to perform tasks as such when I did so. They used to love watching him.”

Jace nods contentedly, humming at your recount. "Lucerys used to watch me when he was younger, as well.” It seems at the memory he laughs gently - the motion stunted as you hold his face in your grip. “One day he decided he was old enough to give it a try. He sneaked into my chambers and took up my razor."

You can't help but smile at the image, lifting a brow. "And what came of it?"

You sit back, preoccupied with the story - your hand wipes the blade upon the rag beside you, meeting his warm gaze as his grin widens. "I found him standing before the mirror, razor in hand.” A flicker of his gaze to the mirror behind you before he finds you once more. “I tried to warn him, but he was too stubborn to heed me. So, I stood back and simply watched."

Your eyes widen, lips parting in mild amusement. "You let him to do it alone?"

He chuckles lightly, tongue prodding his lower lip. "I thought it best he learn a lesson.” His arms unconsciously pull you closer, readjusting your position upon his lap. You swallow down the warmth at such casual intimacy between he and you. “He managed a few strokes, was quite proud of himself, until... he nicked his lip." A small gesture with his jaw towards your own, his eyes focused on the bottom lip that has found itself caught between your teeth. 

You lift your brows, your hand pausing as it rinses the blade in water. "Was he quite hurt?"

"No, just a small cut," Jacaerys soothes, laughter bubbling up again, eyes tearing from your lips up to your own warm gaze; your stomach flutters at the sound and you can no longer suppress a small giggle of your own. "But the look on his face! He was so indignant, I reckon more in his failure than the pain. He turned to me, lip trembling, and demanded to know why I hadn't helped him."

You swat his shoulder gently with the rag, trying to suppress your own laughter. "You are incorrigible, Jace. You laugh at your brother's misfortune?" You chide, teasing; He shrugs, still grinning as his eyes trace over your face warmly. 

"It was a valuable lesson, one I had to learn myself once. Besides, he forgave me soon enough. I helped him finish shaving properly and patched him up. We've laughed about it many times since." His voice is soft against the crackle of flame, adjusting his posture slightly under your weight.

You laugh gently, the image of a young Jace and Luke pulling a grin to your lips. "You two are quite the pair."

Jacaerys’ eyes soften as he hums in agreement. "I have to let him make a fool of himself now and then." 

He’s taken to moving a stray thumb - one not restricted with salves nor gauze - upon the line of your spine. A gentle ghost of affection as you shake your head fondly at him. 

You hum, resuming your efforts, now moving towards his chin with a gentle grasp. "Well, just be glad I am here to ensure you do not cut yourself again. I should not trust you alone with a razor any longer." You tease, wrinkling your nose as you fix him with a faux stern stare. 

Jace’s laugh is rich, warm. "You wound me, wife.”

The gentle laughter between you trails off amiably as you move your focus upon his upper lip; you, dutifully focused, worried of your own skills, knowing you could very easily slip and cut him - he, enduring your hand around his chin, eyes ceaseless upon your face as you move him how you please. 

You finish the last stroke, setting the blade aside; his eyes are pools; sunlit amber. The cloth is wettened - you string it out and gently press it to his skin, wiping away the remnants of shaving oil and the small trail of blood from his previous nick. 

Jace’s breaths rise and fall languidly with your own in the quiet of the chamber. Your movements are slow, tender; your focus entirely on him, ignoring the heat growing in your abdomen, his muscles flexing beneath you. A shift in the calm of the room; a once placated, gentle silence has grown into a thick, tense quiet - enunciated through short puffs of breath and the slow shifting of your bodies as you clean him.

A lean closer, his finger idly trailing your hip as much as the bandage might permit - you inspect his soft skin, the scent of the oils clouding your mind; lavender, cedar, sandalwood. Incense sticks have lost ember in the corner, the ocean rolling in tides upon the distant shores. You find no missed stubble, only undeniable affection in his eyes; you’ve begun to trace the cloth rather idly along his cheek, eyes rising to find his own gaze stuck upon your lips. Echoes of a house attendant walking out in the halls.

“Done,” You whisper, making no effort to rise from his lap; the warmth that has only grown has begun to make you sweat, that desire, still so new, growing between you. He shifts beneath you, staring blatantly, speaking no words. Worry flickers - a foolish thing, to worry when you’re with him - yet you still murmur your words. "Have I overstepped?” you ask softly, gaze flickering down to his plush, parted lips, watching as he shakes his head vehemently.

"Never," he breathes, "I’m merely admiring your beauty."

Heat. Jacaerys has never, not even in the earliest days of your betrothal, hesitated to praise you for your beauty, intelligence, wit, or heart; yet it still sets your mind dizzy each time. You send him a coy smile, hiding the flush of your cheeks under his compliment, “You only say such things because of the blade in my hand,” You tease. 

Expecting a retort from your sharp husband, your eyes flicker to his; he grins at your jest, whispering, “I would speak such words even if you held nothing but air.” 

His gaze roves over the heat of your cheeks, the flutter of your lashes. Want grows hot within you; to be seen, to be so cherished, it is more than you could wish. Jacaerys stirs your heart like no other could. You do not miss when he leans forward slightly, into your own space; the longing in his gaze is rather unmistakable, and it sends a rush of thrill through you. 

Heart, singing in your chest. “Jace.” you whisper.

He breathes your name in response; a prayer. 

“What are you thinking?” You hum, your breath hitting his own; your hands fall to grasp his shoulders, fingers trailing over the crook of his neck, the ties of his tunic. 

 "I'm thinking," His hands, despite their bandages, pull your hips upon his own quite subtly - your stuttered breath, shaky at the feeling of him beneath you, arousal growing just as your own. His voice is husky, "-that I’d like to kiss you."

 A thrill in your stomach; you purse your lips against a smile of affection before closing the distance, your lips meeting his. 

Warm, soft; gentle as he always is with you - but soon in the undercurrent of the late hour, of the thin material upon your frame, you feel fever infect you. 

It comes in a tilt, sliding your nose against his own, lust coiling between your thighs; any tension of before melts, soon replaced by an urgent need to be closer. Your tongue finds the plush of his lower lip, sliding hungrily. 

He groans softly against your mouth, his injured hands pulling you tight; The faint smell of incense, an intensity of desire matching your own - your hands tangle in his hair.

A wince as you shift, his hand flexing and drawing a grunt of pain from his lips. 

You pull back instantly. 

"Jace," you murmur in concern, even as his lips chase your own, a small bridge of saliva between you two in the firelight. Your voice is breathless, filled with longing. "We shouldn't. Your hands."

He shakes his head, his lips seeking yours. "I care not," he whispers fiercely. "If you cease for my sake, I will perish."

Your eyes roll at his dramatics, though your heart flutters at such fervent words. The desire in his eyes is undeniable, and you are finding it harder to resist such pretty requests. "I do not wish to hurt you," you protest softly, though your resolve weakens with each passing moment.

He gazes at you with a mixture of tenderness and longing. “You could never hurt me. Please, let me feel you. The only pain I feel is the distance between us.”

Unbelievable, his cunning knack for dramatics.

Despite the lifted brow you send him, there is an undeniable tremor within you, your hunger growing at the lilt of his tone. Perhaps, you should feel some kind of shyness; Indeed, you’re still learning of each other. You’ve lain with Jacaerys only a few times since being wed last moon—and yet perched so firmly atop his growing arousal, you can’t help the rush of need.

“Well,” You sigh, hand gracing his soft cheek with a small look of pride, “You mustn’t beg.”

He breathes as a smirk of his own grows, “I am a prince, dōna riña. Begging is beneath me.” He murmurs, eyes aflame with that teasing craving, “but I'd gladly beg if it means I get to have you.” 

His ravenous words, mere kindle to the flame. “It is fortunate for you that I am so generous, then,” you murmur, seeking the warmth of his lips once more. He hums in agreement; a reverberation in his chest below your palms stirring a shiver through you. “Fortunate indeed,” he breathes. “Now please do not torture me any longer.” 

You pull away from his searching lips just so, watching as he chases the warmth of your breath. "If you insist," you whisper, your lips brushing against his. His breath is sharp - he dislikes being so teased when he cannot deliver it in return. "I do insist.” he murmurs, words swallowed by the surge of him, teeth and noses clashing as you exhale, stomach flipping. 

His tongue, sliding into your mouth; eager, you part lips for him. The chamber fades into shadows, a dim glow as the witness to your ardor, the only thing to hear such soft sighs and groans from you and Jacaerys. His lips leave you rather soon, peppering kisses upon the flushed skin of your neck. 

A glance behind his shoulder as you cast your neck to the side - flickering shadows, intertwined with each other in a rather sensual embrace upon the wall; Jace’s nose pressed to the heartbeat of your throat as he bites gently against your skin. 

His lips are fervent - the warmth of his breath, his chest heaving below your palms, the scent of his shaving oils - a fierce wildfire within you, consuming every thought but the touch of his body against your own.

An urge, the light pressure of his wrists, desperate to move you upon him - and then his voice, a growl. "Feel me," he breathes against your throat, pulling back so slightly to catch your gaze as his hands, light but insistent, press upon your waist. 

You respond to his urging without a thought; your hips instinctively shifting, meeting the rise of his form with an eager press. The sensation is both thrilling and intoxicating - his moan of pleasure only spurs you on, a shiver of ecstasy as you press just so upon the sensitive of your heat. 

The space between you is gone, the touch of his hands guiding your movements lightly, encouraging your slow rolling hips. The air is thick with the mingled scents of desire and embers low - you, lost in a sea of sensation. His breaths grow ragged, the intensity of his gaze never wavering as he watches you with a look of utter devotion. "Yes," he murmurs, his voice nearly breaking, "-like that, gods - let me feel every bit of you." 

At such words, your cheeks heat vividly - you surrender to the heat of the moment, your movements growing more urgent, more desperate. His breaths are hot against your cheek as you let out a small moan, toes curling as you rove your hips, chasing the heat of pleasure. 

Your movements become more frantic with each passing moment, the need to be close to him overwhelming your senses. His heart, beating as wild as a beast against your own chest; Your head grows dizzy with need, a small noise from the back of your throat as his wrists coax your hips against him. 

“Jace,” Your breath comes in puffs, cheeks hot with the incessant need to feel him within you. “I need you.” 

He hums against your mouth, tantalizing as he tilts his head, “I had not noticed.” 

So cocky; you sigh, hips ceasing slightly, hands trailing over the fabric of his night shirt, feeling the warmth of his lean muscles beneath your palms. “You tease me.” You pout; he kisses the expression away with a small grin. You insist in the absence of a response, “You are cruel, to make it so hard for me to remain composed.” His arms pull you by the small of your back in an embrace - shivers over you as you feel his hard arousal drag along the heat of your aching cunt between too many layers of clothing. 

“I would have you mad with desire, if it means knowing you are as consumed by me as I am by you.” He mutters into the shell of your ear. Your cheeks, constantly heating under his words, so effortlessly setting you afire. 

You pull back enough to trail your lips over his jaw, dropping to press a soft bite upon the skin of his neck; savoring the soft noise, near whimper, from his lips. “You speak as though you haven’t already driven me mad,” You murmur into his skin, “Though I pay it willingly; I would have it no other way.”

To wait any longer would be torture; your hands, hungry and insistent, begin to gather the skirt of your sleep gown - Jace, watching with desire burning heavy in his eyes, hands lying uselessly - the glint of frustration in his gaze is not missed; though you know he wishes to touch you, you revel in the scarce opportunity to take care of him as he does you. 

A soft smile plays upon your lips as you look into his fervent eyes, feeling the heat of his desire merge with your own; Slipping beneath his trousers, you let your fingers graze his skin just enough to drive him wild; deliberate, as slow as his own fingers often are when he finds himself between your thighs. 

His cock is heavy upon your palm; your thighs, trembling with need as you place a few languid pumps upon him. His head, falling back, hands unable to truly grasp your hips - a groan, uninhibited as his brows knit together. “You’re a vision, my love.”

The endearment sends your hips in a short buck - grinding upon his cock, your arousal finds his own; a choked moan from yourself, falling forward to his chest. Laborious sliding of your hips over his own, spreading your need and coating his cock with your desire. Fingers, twitching against your spine - your own threading through his hair. Breaths together, short huffs and unsteady inhales as you finally guide yourself to the tip of his cock. 

“Are you-” His swallow is thick, “Are you sure, love?” He has the gall to question you after such excruciating a wait - though as you stare into his eyes, a flicker, a fleeting observation; He has always taken more than enough time to prepare you to take him; it is no lie that he is rather blessed by the Father - Such memories heat your cheeks. And though you know it may sting, it does not matter to you; You would certainly welcome the sensation. You stir your hips, biting back a noise at the jolt of your sensitive clit against his cock. “Yes, Jace. And you?” You question. An insistent nod, a short groan - "Gods, yes- stop teasing me," he near whines. You conceal a small chuckle of amusement, pressing your lips soundly against him.  

And you sink onto him slowly, eyes screwing shut at the sensation - he, with a low groan, head lolling back to expose the long stretch of his neck. A sharp exhale as you lower yourself, heart slamming as you’re filled; a sating desire within you, growing as you find yourself adjusting to him. 

When you find yourself fully speared upon your husband, you let out a shuttering whimper; his fingers twitch where they lie, pupils blown wide as he gazes upon you. Your lips find his once more in hunger, whispers of moans swallowed, tongue warm as it slides into his mouth. He tastes of the anise candies he favors; a hint of wine, cherry and dark. 

He remains, hips static as you breathe through the sensation of being full of him. His lips are fervent, though any wild need to feel you around him tamped momentarily by his concern for your own comfort and pleasure. 

A distant rove of waves upon a shoreline; the memory of Jacaerys, flushed and wide-eyed the first time you shared his bed. You slowly grow accustomed to his size, the hunger boiling within you as you slowly shift, growing restless. 

And slowly, experimentally - Jacaerys’ hips push slightly up against yours. You stir at the sensation, his cock pressing a spot deep within you - a keening gasp against him, swallowing his short moan with your lips. A slow lift of your hips, feeling him press against you - your eyes flutter shut once more as a flooding of pleasure courses through you, liquid fire within your veins. 

“Gods, my love-” He nearly chokes, “J-just like that-” 

Your small gasp as you begin to rock against his pelvis, cock stirring and pressing deliciously against the deepest part of you; upon shaky legs you rise, gently allowing his cock to drag out of your hungered cunt. “Jace,” Your voice is whiny, breathless - unsure what you plan on saying otherwise, your hands slide into the curly locks, tugging gently. He is rendered unable to speak, mouth open before moving to lick the slight salt from your skin. 

A flush has grown upon your chest; your husband’s lips have found your breasts, peppering bites and lingering upon a spot just under your neckline, his groans reverberating within your skin. Steadying yourself upon him, you find a rhythm - his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, your head tilting back in true satisfaction, a heat coiling within your gut. 

And his lips, ceasing only when your fingers tug at his curls; a curve in his own spine, head falling back against the back of the chair with a groan of pleasure. Heat curls and coils, lit afire by Jacaerys and the feeling of him reaching deep within you. 

“Jace, you’re so deep-” You whisper, toes curling with the sounds of your shared desire echoing in the chamber softly. He lets out a small noise at your words, a smattering of pink across his cheeks; cock twitching with desire within you. 

The hunger calls you. Without further consideration, you snake a hand between you, down to the heat of your cunt taking him, fingers shaking as you seek your yearning bundle of nerves; His eyes, lidded as he watches you. Jacaerys, in his endless pursuit to ensure your pleasures, has always provided his fingers or tongue to bring you closer to finish - though with him injured below you, you do not mind picking up such slack yourself. 

Especially when it brings such deeply melodic sounds of need to his lips. Despite his arousal at your actions, your hand shies away - knowing whatever extension of pleasure you wish to give yourself will be no match for how he so often touches you. Your grip rises instead to steady yourself upon his shoulders, spearing yourself onto him in languid thrusts, ecstasy climbing within you like the wild of fire. 

“Look at you, ābrazȳrys.” He mutters, pupils blown in pleasure, hips canting to meet yours. Though you speak not the language, you are familiar with such a word: wife. A shudder of pleasure at his ancient tongue - of which he has whispered many words to you, most unknown.

He, the picture of the gods below you, letting out a sharp exhale in his own pleasure. His lips, slick and bright, mutter your name - at the summon your gaze finds his own, molten and hungry as your hips move together, the feeling of his cock twitching within you, reaching a spot that has your back keening.

“I’m c-close.” He whispers, a heat upon his cheeks - embarrassment, perhaps, at his eagerness. His eyes find you; you’re met with that dark gaze, regally commanding as he speaks. “Gaomagon ziry. Touch yourself, love, I want to feel you.”  

Gods save you. 

Just as your husband wishes, you drop your fingers once more with no hesitation, jolting. You do not slow your pace; thighs burning, you keen forward, whispering his name against the pulse of his throat, groaning as your fingers press further, tight circles that bring shudders of pleasure. 

“Jaesa, so pretty. Renigon aōla.” Jacaerys’ brows, knitted upwards in gratification; voice, leaking of desperation, of some kind of adulation. He quite often slips into that frantic tongue - the rush of pleasure, of ecstasy, his sharp mind rendered unable to decipher the common from the ancient tongue. You do not know the delicious words that fall from his lips, yet it does not matter - they spur you closer still towards completion. 

“Jace, I’m close,” You hiss, teeth clenched in desire; your hips, dropping upon him slower, deeper; his arms pull you closer with a groan, lips falling to nip small marks into the smooth of your neck. A moan, unbidden from his sweet lips, “Do not stop, please-” he wishes, and who are you to deny such pretty begging? 

When you hit your high of ecstasy, it is with a muffled moan of his name; into the thin linen of his tunic, legs slowing as you roll through pleasure, spasming gently around your husband. His own, quiet moan into your hair, wrists pulling you into him as he whispers, “Yes, ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys, fuck-” 

A thrill within you as you ride your high, such vulgar of a word from your husband; and all, your doing. A frantic whimper from your lips into his throat as he bucks his hips up into you, chasing his own high with a soft whimper. “You feel so good, Jacaerys.” You keen, raising to his face as you feel his abdominal muscles tense beneath you; pressing your forehead to his own, you ride through your completion, heavy breaths upon each other.

Noses sliding against his, you drink his small groans, holding him close; a ghost of his lips against yours, a nip of your lip by his teeth. Long lashes fluttering, Jace finds his own high. He releases his seed into you; you feel him, his hips thrusting up into you weakly as the warmth of him spreads within you. His breath, hot against your cheek, lips chasing yours as you pull away slightly, the slight shift in position sending you both in a harmony of whimpers at the sensitivity. 

The chamber’s hearth spits and crackles; an ember lands near the floor beside the chair. It smolders out, fading slowly into darkness against the stone as you rest your cheek against Jacaerys’ chest, pleased by his gentle kisses upon your hairline.

After moments of silence, basking in your shared pleasure, you press a kiss to his chest. “Are you alright?” He asks gently, soothing over your spine with the soft of his forearms. 

You let out a shaky sigh of satisfaction as you pull back, feeling his cock within you - a fleeting thought; you hope his seed takes. He watches you, eyes warm and gentle as a shaky finger, curled in pain, wipes a stray strand of hair from your forehead - you nod, lifting your hand thumb away the bead of blood that has appeared once more on his cheek; “Yes. And you?” You wonder, pressing a kiss to the freckle upon his lip. 

His smile is the kind that makes your heart skip beats. “Always.” 

translations; dōna riña - sweet girl

ābrazȳrys - wife

Gaomagon ziry - do it

Jaesa - goddess, holy/divine woman

Renigon aōla - touch yourself

ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys - my good little wife

taglist: @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @elaena-aerrin @smurfelle @greenvita @alyssa-dayne

[mehrsdigitaldiary]

Nothing Feels Better

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

summary- the legendary win. a win no one will forget

a/n- AGGHHHHH I'M STILL NOT OVER HIS WIN IT FEELS LIKE A FEVER DREAM FRGRGHSKFQWRJ. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this, I'm sorry if this is bad, I'm still improving🤍

The atmosphere in the McLaren hospitality was tense. No one relaxed after Lando pit. Each and everyone in the hospitality was a nervous wreck, their eyes focused on the gap between him and Max.

You were sitting with Ria and Aarav, heart racing, praying to all the gods for no fuck ups. The safety car ended and the tension levels in the hospitality were at an all time high with Verstappen lining his car up almost next to Lando. Everyone was up from their seats. This was it.

Once the green flag was waved, Lando pulled away with ease but Max was well within DRS range. But with pressure from Charles and Carlos right on his tail, Max had to focus on defending his position rather than fighting Lando for P1, although the gap between Lando and Max kept giving you mini heart attacks with it decreasing and increasing every millisecond.

Lap 33 to Lap 56 went by in the blink of an eye. It was the last lap of the race. No one in the hospitality dared to move till he passed the last corner of the track. After he did, the entire hospitality emerged in cheers, mechanics running over to the pitwall grill and climbing it to cheer your boyfriend on his very first of many wins in Formula 1.

You however stayed put where you were holding Ria's hand, both of your eyes glued to the screen until Lando crossed the finish line. You were completely shocked. Your boyfriend had won the Miami Grand Prix. LANDO WAS A RACE WINNER. Now, everything was a blur to you, all you were thinking about was running to Parc Fermé and smothering your boyfriend in kisses.

Lando was the last to reach Parc Fermé. He got out of his car and ran towards the mechanics, jumping on them. Next he came to you and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, you crying into the kiss. You pulled him into a hug before he left for the post race interview, "I'm so so so proud of you my love. My future champion, I love you.", you whispered into his ears. Lando whispered a quick 'I love you' to you with a cheeky wink before he rushed for his interview.

"Lando Norris, how does it feel to be an F1 Grand Prix winner?" Jenson asked him. "About time huh? Fuck, sorry. But yeah, it feels surreal. I'm so thankful for my team, my family, my friends, my girlfriend Y/N who is right there for their constant support. I wouldn't recommend recording her right now she's a mess." he chuckled. "But yeah, a huge thanks tot the team for believing in me, I finally delivered to them."

Once the podium celebrations were over, Lando and you went back to his drivers room. As soon as he locked the door, he pulled you in for a long, messy, passionate kiss. "I'm beyond proud of you baby. it was always a matter of when, not if. There's so much more to come for you. My future champ." You spoke into the kiss. "thank you so much for supporting me through this baby. I wouldn't have bee able to do this without you. I love you babygirl." he said. "I love you so much more"

————————————————————————————

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and others

yourusername P1 BABYYYYYYYYY 🏆🏆🏆 THE LOVE OF MY LIFE GOT HIS MAIDEN WIN TODAY. IM SO INSANELY PROUD OF U POOKIE🤍🤍🤍🤍 THIS IS ONE OF MANY MANY MORE TO COME♾️🧡

ALSO GOODBYE AND GOOD RIDDANCE TO "LANDO NOWINS" U WILL NOT BE MISSED

landonorris thank u so much babygirl couldn’t have done it without ur constant support🤍🤍🤍🤍

fernandoalo_official bravooooo👏🏼👏🏼

lewishamilton WELL DONE.

lnfour HE’S A RACE WINNER NOW GUYS🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

user okay but is anyone going to talk about how Y/N and ria fell when he crossed the finish line😭😭

— user that and how Y/N sprinted to climb the pitwall grill with the mechanics to cheer lando on 🥹😭

————————————————————————————

Requests are open send in requests for fics and blurbs <33

[anadiasmount]

ex-bf!trent who doesn’t want u to leave after having sex

so what - taa blurb.

psa 🗣️: something small before i post dad! trent… also not proofread so im sorry 🙂‍↕️🤗

trent exhaled a sigh, his hand brushing up and down your bare arm, tucking you closer. you felt him rest his cheek on your temple, as you drew shapes along his bare chest, not knowing what to say but having to urge to say so much. the white thin sheets not covering you both entirely or what you had just done.

it’s like you could sense it, you knew trent from the back of your hand. his likes, dislikes, his pleasure, hobbies, emotions, everything. and now wasn’t any different than from when you were together. just now it felt like the past and you hated it because now it was different and so much damage was done.

it was a week ago when he put all his ego and hidden feelings aside. manning up and showing up to your doorstep just to be surprised you had just gone on a date. elegant makeup and hair. your outfit. it felt like a fever dream. though you allowed him to come in, for him letting to seek and pour out his feelings to you because you were the only person he felt safe and comfortable doing that with.

a week since you set boundaries with him and agreed on just sex with him. that it was all you could offer each other no matter the price tag it carried. was it wrong? yes. did it feel right? more than you could imagine.

“stay with me tonight,” he murmured kissing your forehead, lips longing on the spot. you smiled tiredly, knowing you could stay but it didn’t feel right. you would be up the entire night overthinking about what had happened and you couldn’t trust yourself entirely if you did stay with him.

“i can’t trent, i have to work…” you lied and sighed deeply, pushing yourself a bit though it felt impossible when all you wanted and felt was to sink into his embrace and not look back. for him to protect and keep you safe like he once had and promised.

“just work? or are you gonna avoid me,” he said making you roll your eyes at his tone. “i don’t owe you any explanations on what i do or don’t. we agreed on just sex,” you pointed looking up where his face softened. “don’t do that trent,” you pushed yourself up, hearing trent groan before pulling you back down to his chest.

“why can’t i just hold you like this. just for tonight,” he offered but you shook your head. “because that would mean something more than what we promised. we’re not together anymore, you don’t have to pretend to care,” you said directly, your words stinging trent’s heart. when had you become so cold?

“but i do care.”

“but you don’t. not when i needed you to anyway. there’s no point of trying to fix what’s already broken,” you say with no emotion. you learned that the hard way. you were used to the disappointment but when it came from trent that was just the tip of the iceberg. you didn’t want to be vulnerable anymore. you didn’t deserve it because you had so much more to live up to. trent couldn’t live up to the standards even after how much you begged and pleaded.

“that’s not fair, you haven’t given me a chance to show we aren’t like how you think, y/n.”

“i’m not doing this again trent. i gave you so much time for you to explain and prove yourself when i gave you the chance but you refused because you weren’t ready. that’s not my problem anymore, you knew how i felt when coming into this. no feelings just sex.”

“how am i supposed not to feel anything, y/n? you’re my ex girlfriend!”

you scoffed pushing away the sheets and grabbing your clothes to dress yourself again. this was the cons to what you agreed. you knew and felt that it wasn’t quite over with the two of you just yet. but this felt better than actually being together. you still had him but there was no label to it, this time things were different and you were gonna stand on that for your sake.

though all you longed and wished was to be back how it was when you first met. the late night dates, his lips brushing and kissing over your knuckles, trent’s shy smiles when you complimented him, making ever longing memories and promises for one day. those that now won’t be able to come true when you had the courage to put your foot down and end it.

it was all going down hill. you never saw him anymore, he treated you like a plate for a second table, trent was there physically but not mentally. you tried and fought, the many late night tears and seeking of advice, but there was so much you could and have done but in the end you gave up and called it quits. to protect yourself from further damage.

“i knew this was gonna happen,” you blurted to yourself, trying to calm the ache in your head yet also the nerves that built in your veins. you heard trent shuffle around the bed then looking at him with his black calvin’s on. “y/n wait, let’s talk this out.”

why was he fighting for you now? why did he bother when this was all you asked for in the past? for him to communicate his thoughts and feelings.

“no trent, i’m done talking. i did that all before and im not here to do again just because you want me to stay,” you said while putting on your shirt. “it’s not just about staying. i finally have you to myself and want to protect that. i just want to be with you right now,” trent pleaded, coming over to your side where you hid your face away from him. knowing if stared into him it was capable of you to stay.

“we made a promise,” your voice broke, just like trent’s hopes were as you continued to speak. “i just want to have control of one thing in my life and heart. i can’t do this again if it mean the same outcome trent. we don’t deserve that. we fought so hard, and we’d be repeating history again.”

“but isn’t that the point? for us not to repeat it because we have full control of that? of our thoughts and feelings? of our love for each other? i wasn’t ready then. the night of our breakup or a week ago when this all began. i can’t lie to you, when i saw you again i made a promise to you and myself y/n… i just want you… i’m ready now,” his brown eyes bore into yours making it so difficult, every bone in your body wanting to give it.

“trent-” you warned sadly.

“you said you did all the talking, now it’s my turn, but i can’t do that if you don’t allow me to baby,” trent was ready to get on his knees and beg you. to beg you to stay, to beg you to hear him out, to beg you to love him like you once did. he was ready to risk it all just for you. doing the utterly most to show you.

“stay with me tonight, it’s a start for a new us…”

[zyonsay]

Parisienne im Mund SKI AGGU

Summary: Shooting the Balla Balla MV!

Reader: Genderneutral

Warnings: Smoking

Now playing: 'Balla Balla' by Ski Aggu

AN: Heya everyone! Finally some Ski Aggu content! I feel like there's such a lack of fics about him, which probably is since he's a german artist who doesnt cater to anyone besides german speakers- At least thats how i imagine it?? Anyways! This was really hard to write cuz in my mind lil bro does NOT speak english, which makes it sooo difficult for me to make him speak english. Idk, maybe im just yapping. Alsooo!! I mostly write male readers but i thought since theres barely any ski aggu fics i‘d give a lil treat to fem aligned people too :)

 Die, die ich date, hat uns Karten für die Oper gekauft Doch ich kann heut nicht, weil ich mich mit meinen Govas besauf' Jemand legt mir eine Peitsche, doch die macht mir nichts aus, Weil ich hab' viele tolle Ranzen wie Scout

A row of dressed up people stood around, waiting for their cue. You were currently doing a favor for your friend from Hamburg, Luca. Recently he made more time for his main passion, filming music videos and social media content. Long story short, his buddy needed a bunch of people for a music video and since you owe him a favor, you gladly came along.

Ja, ich bin ein heißer Atze, ich tanz' bauchfrei im Club Hol' meinen Perso raus, doch nicht, weil ich mich ausweisen muss

The camera panned around the entrance of the club and music filled the room. Just beforehand you were personally introduced to the man in whose music video you’d appear.

“Hey, das ist Y/N. Basically meine rechte Hand.” Luca placed his arm around your shoulders, pulling you slightly into him while smiling widely. “Oh hey, danke fürs kommen!”, you blinked for a second, your german was sadly quite rusty. “Oh umm, sorry but my german is absolute shit.”, you pursed your lips shyly. The young guy in front of you smiled. “No problem! I’m Aggu by the way.” He held his hand out to dap you up. You interlinked your own hand with his. “Nice to meet you, love your music.” A genuine smile spread across your lips, which he immediately mirrored. He was known to wear a ski mask, but right now you were glad to be able to look into his blueish grey eyes. Something was drawing you to him, maybe his sharp features, his messy blond hair or the crooked but sweet smile. “Thanks! I’ve heard so much about you from Luca.” You tilted your head, nudging your friend who was still next to you. “Only good things, right?”

The smoke machines were going ham and the air inside the rented club was getting way too hot. Someone had brought along a bubble gun, so colorful glycerin blobs now bobbed through the air and occasionally landed on a person’s head. “Ok, nächster Take in 3, 2, 1!” Luca began filming and just how the instructions earlier had said, everybody started jumping around and dancing, mimicking the nightlife at a club. Music boomed trough a speaker, helping Aggu keep the pace and time his gestures correctly. The lights flashed, you purposely spilled your drink while dancing, the messier it looked, the better. It all began to feel more and more like a fever dream. Aggu had lit a cigarette and was wildly gesturing at the camera while singing to the lyrics, the melody of which flowed through the crowd.

Ich rapp' darüber, was in meinem Leben passiert, Treff' 'ne Granate im Backi, die meine Nägel lackiert, woah, mh Sie sagt mir: „Komm, wir gehen von hier“ Weil der Backstage Arsch ist wie ich später bei ihr.

Next up was a scene at the backstage, Luca had insisted stubbornly that you should play in that scene. Two seats were smushed into a corner and a few things were thrown around to make it look messy. You propped yourself in one of those seats, facing Aggu. He was rapping about something something nail polish, but all you knew is that you had to whisper in his ear for a take. Carefully, you leant closer to him, your back was turned against the camera. His scent was intoxicating, a light hint of smoke lingered on him. Feeling a bit cheeky, you laid your hand on the front of his shoulder, practically resting yourself against him. A slight flush spread across your cheeks at the proximity, you were thankful that the camera wasn’t filming your face.

Aggu leant over the bar and let out an exhausted huff. “Fertig!”, Luca grinned from one ear to another. The takes you had now were pretty damn good and even though it was fun, everybody was happy to finish the video shooting. “You ok?” You spun around on one of the barstools. “Hm?”, he hummed while tiredly lifting his head from where he was resting it, buried in his arms. “Yeah, just tired. But I’m happy with how it turned out.” You nodded lightly, stopping your endless spinning. “C’mon, I’ll sponsor you a Cig.” Even under the ski goggles you could see his eyes light up.

You placed a cigarette between your lips and then held out your pack of Parisiennes to him. The two of you were sat on the step of some stairs at the back entrance of the club, your legs touching. “You got fire?”, a slightly embarrassed look flashed over your face. Somehow you always forgot to bring your lighter – or you lose it by the time you need it. “Mhm.” Aggu hummed. He had taken the ski goggles off and once again you found yourself glancing at his eyes. He expected you to take the lighter into your own hands, but you just held your cigarette in place and leaned in towards him. A few strands of hair loosened and fell into your face. He couldn’t help his breath hitching at the closeness, he could smell your cologne. It smelled like green tea mixed with a minty undertone, or to put it differently, a breath of fresh air. It took Aggu a second to register your movement, but he then reached his lighter forward, holding the flame to the cigarette between your lips. The orange light illuminated your face and made it glow; he was mesmerized. Your eyes fluttered open and you caught him looking at you, a slight smile spread across your lips.

Ich bin balla-balla Komplett gaga Parisienne im Mund, ich bin ein toller Macker

With a sweet, slightly stupid grin he lit his own cigarette. A light chuckle escaped you, he seemed to fancy you as much as you fancied him. He took a long drag of his cigarette before leaning against your shoulder, the nicotine rush fuzzing up his mind.

Ich bin balla-balla Komplett gaga Ihr Swag 2010, sie trägt einen Rock mit Brakka

[deathbxnny]

Soo do you remember when Boothill came out, so many people (me included) compared him to Arlechinno and say that he’s “genderbent Arlechinno” despite being literally the opposite of her?

:)

Can i request Boothill with an Arlechinno!reader as a twin sibling?

Context:

Boothill and the reader are twins and they are the absolute opposites despite they’re similar appearances. One is loud and brash while the other is quiet and stoic, one is a normal kid while the other is for some reason cursed? No one in their little family knew why or how the reader have a curse but there wasnt much they can really do about it. Regardless, Boothill and the reader are as thick as thieves, never seen without the other. But then the IPC came and blew up their planet which finally seperated the two twins. The reader somehow survived bc of their curse but now they sometimes glitch (like how Arle does in her idle animation). Now the reader nor Boothill knows that the other survived for a while but then they bumped into each other and you can take the reins from here

Hope you have a lovely day/night!

(Somehow im in a Boothill fever.. i blame Nicholas (DanHeng’s VA) for his damn Boothill song)

- Flower Anon 🌸

Oooh, I really love this idea, Flower Anon!! I have to admit, though, that I struggled writing this so bad, so I'm sorry if it turned out horribly.

Thank you otherwise for your request and sorry it took so long!!<3

Content: Platonic relationships, twin sibling reader, angst, vague mentions of Boothills past, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

The summer we died in. (Boothill x Twin!Reader)

"If I didn't know yer so well, I would've maybe been shocked to see you alive." Your brother's southern drawl shook memories awake in your mind. Memories that had been left slumbering in the fields of your old home, under the warm sun and in the tall grass. And yet... you didn't feel anything.

"... I suppose I could say the same thing about you -" "-Boothill. That's the name now." You hum dully as you crossed your arms and turned your head away from the confused Trailblazer in front of you to look at him. You had come to Penacony for business, or rather revenge, only to be dragged into its mess on accident. You therefore didn't expect to see the remnants of your formerly dead brother standing before you.

But could you even consider him alive in the state he was in now? A blurry image of what he looked like once came to mind, yet melted away just as fast. You didn't actually remember how he looked like anymore.

"Boothill then."

Silence filled the air, the tension thick and suffocating, yet neither of your gazes faltered. You just... didn't know what to say. There was a time in which you'd childishly dream of seeing him again, the way you'd throw yourself into his arms and then return with him to your families farmhouse. You'd act like nothing happened, become the siblings again that you always were.

But the realisation that it was all just that, a dream, made you press your lips together in the near... disappointment? You should've known better than to become so disillusioned from everything, and yet the reality still hurt you deep, deep down, under the endless layers of your curse.

"Uhm... my apologies, but you know eachother?" Robin asked carefully, seemingly saying exactly what your other companions had been thinking. Your gaze thoughtfully shifted around the twisted yet nostalgic landscape of the dreamscape, not knowing how to answer. You knew eachother once. But now? You weren't sure. You had never met "Boothill". And your brother, therefore remains dead.

Said man scratched his head awkwardly. "Uh yeah, that's my twin -" "-Reallyyy??? You guys don't look nor act alike at all!" March gasped out, only to be quickly hushed by Dan Heng and the Trailblazer. "... Hah, did ya hear that? Things never change!" Boothill grinned at you the way he used to, another memory of pranks and mischief under the moonlight filling your head again, which you just waved away. "Some things don't. But most do... How did you make it?" "Always so straight to the point." Your brother's grin widened as his relief and excitement began seeping through at last. His shoulders relaxed, eyes crinkling with a familiar spark you found yourself nearly stepping away from.

"But let's just say I'm after the same man you are." Ofcourse he'd know exactly what you were in Penacony for. You were one in the same when it came to your wrath. You wanted revenge for your lost family and for eachother, unknowing of the others' fate beyond death. You would've found it funny if you could have felt anything at all.

"Right." You didn't want to know more than that yet. "How'd you get in? Doubt you swam in that lil' pool all the way here." He hummed, which made you tilt your head. Why was he so casual? Why was he acting like neither of you had died? That both of you were together all along throughout the years you missed? It was bizarre and yet so awfully fitting. "... Remember the curse?" You held up a clawed hand that glitched through the force of the dreamscape. You couldn't remember what made you gain this ability, having woken up this way after the catastrophe. But it came in handy in moments like these.

Robin raised a hand to her chin. "You... were able to bypass the dreamscape and just enter it?" "Yes." You replied, and Boothill chuckled at that. "Wish you got that sweet ability sooner. Would've helped us out lots during the ol' days." You stared ahead, nearly through him. Was he trying to cope with your appearance before him this way? Was he trying to deflect the realisation that he wasn't totally alone after all? You didn't know what to think.

"... Let's go together. I overheard your part of the plan from the Trailblazer, and time is running out. If we want to defeat Mr. Sunday, then we have to get going." You said, voice as intimidating and cold as it used to be. It seemed to snap everyone out of their confused daze as they proceeded with the plan. Boothill met your gaze amongst the general commotion of your companions quickly speaking over eachother before taking their own respective leaves.

You stood there, seemingly stuck on how to proceed, which felt so out of character for you. You were used to ordering people around, intimidating them, and demanding the near impossible. But here you were now, speechless and hesitant. Did this perhaps hit you harder than previously expected? Boothill just tipped his hat and led the way automatically, another memory flickering of him doing the same during your nightly pranks. You'd sneak out and hop over the wooden fence surrounding your home to bother your old, grumpy neighbor. Those days were always so warm, the summer heat seeping into the night that began to cool off on your skins.

Those days never seemed to end. It was never cold. Always warm, scorching warm. Burning, flames, smoke filling your lungs and then total destruction.

"-Remember that day? The last one." Yes, you did. It's all you thought about during your travels. It's what fueled your revenge. You said nothing in reply, but he didn't mind. "It was warm. Last day of summer they said but it didn't feel like it to us." The false night sky of the dreamscape stretched out over the extravagant city. You looked down on the dreamers who decided to live a lie rather than face reality. There was a time in which you'd find them pathetic, but now you see yourself in their crowd, gazing right up at you with an equally as unreadable face.

"It was the summer we died in. So I guess they were right. It was our last day." He loaded his gun and raised it to the sky, his body turned away from you. The bright lights below illuminated his sides, hair flowing in the wind whilst the hat covered his eyes. It was a foreign image, one you couldn't recognize. "Why... are you like this?" You asked after a moment of consideration, but what you really meant was why he didn't even feel affected by you being alive all along.

Yet then again... you didn't know if you felt anything either.

Despite your differences, you were the same deep down, he was right there too. And deep down, you realized too late that you weren't the same you used to be either. Death had taken you both. You weren't siblings here. You weren't related at all. The only thing connecting you was his shadow you stood in. But even that did little to shake you physically.

"Because it doesn't matter anymore who died that summer." He shot the flare into the air, hundreds of lights beginning to fill the night sky soon after. He looked back at you with a wild, unrestrained grin. "What matters is that we get the revenge we need for the dead, ain't that right? That's something your serious behind would say, at least."

You couldn't help but dully chuckle then. It was barely heard, so weak he could've nearly missed it, but he didn't. Stepping up next to him, out of his shadow, you gave him the faintest smile.

"You're right, Boothill... Let's get revenge for those who died that summer."

[vaguesxrrow]

hiiii, im sorry i cant be more in depth but i was thinking a sick!reader x charles where he just takes care of her and its sickeningly sweet and fluffy? thank you if you do end up writing it, love your stuff xx

aww thanks sm ! hope u enjoy xx

charles / sick!reader

a/n: reader really likes cornetto in this fic because it's the only ice cream brand i could think of ☠️

wc: 572

tags: fluff, gender neutral reader (request said 'her' but no pronouns were used for the reader in the fic)

another cough attack shook your body. you groaned through your hacking, tired of this godforsaken cold. you glanced in the mirror in your room; you looked like death warmed over, but only very slightly, and probably by a microwave that looked like it was at the end of its lifespan itself.

as you were scrutinising your reflection, your face morphed into that of charles's, as he stepped through the mirror. he held several grocery bags in his left hand, and balanced a washcloth and a bowl of water in the other.

"hey, love," he chirped. "how's my favourite human in the world doing?"

you sneezed. "absolutely aces," you deadpanned.

"awh, look at you taking up my english slang." he set the things down and kissed your forehead. you smiled, preening under the attention. however, your expression changed when he dipped the washcloth in water, wringing it out before bringing it to your face.

"charles," you protested. "i barely have a fever, and i'm not a child."

he shushed you. "let me do this, [name]. you take care of me all the time, it's about time i returned the favour, yeah?"

he looked so sincere, flashing you those lovesick puppy dog eyes that you were sure he wasn't even aware of (whenever you teased him about them, he denied it), that you inevitably relented.

"fine, just don't get my hair wet," you grumbled.

"wouldn't dream of it," he sing-songed.

you doubted the wet towel did anything to improve your condition, but you were rewarded for your patience, because when charles was satisfied with his work, he pulled out your favourite ice cream from the grocery bag.

"i take back everything i said." you tore open the packaging. "take care of me any time."

"oh, really?" charles remarked. "i'm starting to think you love ice cream more than you love me." he laid down next to you, making himself comfortable as he raised his eyebrow at you in challenge.

you bit into the ice cream, shivering pleasantly at the cold that spread through your mouth. it soothed your throat as it went down, sore from all the coughing you had been doing this morning.

"you know what, charles?" you said when you finished swallowing. "i think i just might. very close competition, but... cornetto beat you by a bit."

even as you teased him, you snuggled closer into his side, sighing in content.

"i hope you know that if i could, i would definitely steal a bite of that." charles put an arm around you and pretended to try and grab the cone from your hands.

you sneezed - twice in a row - dropping your beloved cornetto in favour of bringing your arm up to cover your mouth and nose. luckily, charles caught it.

"i believe this belongs to you." he held it out.

all you could do was groan, taking back the ice cream and licking it miserably. "i hate colds."

"oh, i know, love." he kissed your hair. "why don't you take a nap after this?"

"if it'll numb me from this mortal torture, then sure."

you flopped dramatically onto your pillows, closing your eyes.

"now you're being dramatic."

eyes still shut, you grabbed one of the pillows, using it to smack charles square in the face. he yelped, immediately taking revenge.

"my cornetto!" you cried, dodging the cushion that came your way.

"oh, so you do love the cornetto more than me!"

[indigobsessed]

I’ll come back.

pairing : min yoongi x reader (established relationship)

summary : your boyfriend, yoongi, just ended his final tour the other day. who wouldve known not even 24 hours later that his enlistment notice came out and you, his loving girlfriend, found out before he tells you about it.

genre : angst, fluff, a bit suggestive and yoongi being a comforting bf.

rating : SFW

warnings : mentions of military enlistment, crying, slight swearing

wc : 635 words.

a/n : ahh!! first (and last maybe..) post???:&/£/£ i hope you’ll enjoy this :) i’ll do a navigation soon hehe. other than that, im so sad that d-day tour has ended and yoongi’s leaving soon ugh :(. for references, you can check out the d-day vlogs, clips, etc :) not proofread, i think.

“MIN YOONGI!” You burst through the door of his studio after clicking on his passcode aggressively by muscle memory. Your boyfriend turned around his studio chair, staring at you with a puzzled look.

You stood at the door, your eyes filled with angry tears with your phone in hand, showing the military notice. That was until he realised about what he was going to tell you when he comes back to your shared home.

“Oh baby-“ He quickly got up to hold you, but you pushed him away quickly. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” You hissed. Yoongi sighed, knowing that you, his ever loving girlfriend of three years would take a while to fully take it in.

He slowly got up and closed the studio door behind you. Yoongi took your hand and lead you to sit down on his studio couch. You were still silent, not until Yoongi took you into his arms as you let out your tears. “I know, jagi, I know.” He soothed you, rubbing your back in small circles. Your tears staining his grey shirt.

“You promised to tell me Yoongi. I can’t believe I found out like this.” You sobbed out. “I thought we agreed to not keep secrets from eachother.” You continued, your voice shaky.

“Baby, listen to me. Look at me.” Yoongi called out to you in a stern yet soft voice. You pulled away, looking at him with tear-stained cheeks. He looks just as hurt as you. “We talked about this, I know that. But fuck, my love I didn’t even know how to tell you that it was coming soon. I just ended my whole tour yesterday.” He explained. “You didn’t give ARMYs a whole day, Yoongs.” You argued. “You didn’t even give me a day too. I knew it was coming but Yoongi, you didn’t have to remind me.” You continued.

“I know, all these 3 years of being with you and you’ve been there with me throughout everything and I can’t thank you enough. But I’ve let my postponement go on for too long, I have to go at some point too. The sooner I go, the sooner I come back remember?” Yoongi comforts you. Trying his best to calm you down.

You nod, understanding his explanation. “I know it’s my fault for not letting you know any sooner too. I know that it’s not easy to take in.” He rubs your arms. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” Yoongi apologised while peppering kisses on your cheeks.

Memories of the couple during Yoongi’s world tour flashes through your mind. The day out in Chicago, the small holiday in Phuket and diving. Shared kisses, meals and smiles. And intimate moments during the night. It all felt like a fever dream to you.

Tears streaming down your cheeks once more, trying your best to accept that time doesn’t freeze as you wish. “I feel like it’s just yesterday since you told me that you were going on tour, Min.” You said softly, cracking a soft smile at the memory. Both of you hugging and knowing that this will be one of your biggest memories with him. “I remember going on the flight to your first concert location. You were so excited to see your fans.” You giggled as Yoongi smiled apologetically to you.

“I’ll miss them so much too, jagi.” Yoongi spoke out. “And I’ll miss you the most too.”

Yoongi leaned in to kiss you on the lips softly.

“Promise me you’ll come back, or we’re gonna have issues.” You grumbled. It made Yoongi laugh softly.

“I’ll come back. To you, to my brothers, and to ARMYs. Safely.” He reassured you as he placed another comforting kiss on your lips.

He’ll come back safely. As he promised. He is a man of his words after all.

[skz-haneul]

𖥟 ᭅᬻ LEARN THE ALPHABET WITH HANEUL

A is for : *talking to stay on bubble* and i can’t believe i forgot i live with 3 smelly ratty gym bros, oh yeah and hyune (context because she can say the most wildest things sometimes: she came home to rest and saw the mess 3racha made with their shoes)

B is for : *pointing at bang chan* beep beep beep person who needs sleep detected beep beep tackle him with pillows (real)

C is for : *comparing butts with han* can’t relate, my bum is the size of jupiter (she got rich problems)

D is for : *on live cooking with lee know* did you just say 127, puku puku pow po- … i couldn’t help myself im sorry (same tbf)

E is for : *trying to convince felix to play games together after sneaking into the cuties dorm at 12* esteemed companion shall we partake in a rendezvous of ludic engagement within the realm of digital entertainment (why is she fancy all of a sudden)

F is for : *dancing to whip nae nae* forget break your legs, i just broke my back (sometimes she acts like she fought in ww1)

G is for : *telling a joke* guys, what did the chicken say when it saw something amazing, daebak-bak-bak (i laughed more at the silence than the joke)

H is for : *playing games with seungmin* hey there buster, no more mr nice guy (and now she’s an american bully???)

I is for : * listening to asap by stayc with her headphones on but everyone else can hear it* i will ‘asap 내 반쪽 아니 완전 copy’ till the day i die (i think she likes asap)

J is for : *caught by talker insulting changbin after he died in a 2 player obby on roblox* just kidding. i would never call anyone a worthless flop of a human, im too hot for that (dayum girl (you are hot tho))

K is for : *greeting staff as she walks in the room* konichiwa my despacito burrito (miss worldwide fr)

L is for : *during an interview talking about her biggest pet peeves* losing should have never been invented because i do not take it very well (i sadly relate to this a lil too much)

M is for : *in an interview* my whole life has felt like a fever dream tbh (icl I burst out laughing)

N is for : *after getting a really packed schedule* news flash: im bombing the jyp building (not without me)

O is for : *game of hide and seek* opps at the end of my block (yungneulta back at it again)

P is for : *during a game of dodgeball* please stop throwing the balls at my beautiful face (the way felix tried to aim harder)

Q is for : *out with hyunjin* questionable face you got on there but ok (context again: she went to the bathroom in a restaurant and then half her burger was gone)

R is for : *english school with skz* right, 77+33=100, stay with me now, because the government- (i don’t think they’re passing)

S is for : *trying on corsets* snyatched qween *throwing poses faster than lightning* (nothing but facts)

T is for : *seungmin launching a pillow at her head* that is not very slay queen, period bestie of you seungmin (what is up with her dictionary)

U is for : *boiling eggs…* umm, minho, yknow when you told me to boil eggs, i may have burnt the water… again (the only thing i have to say is how?)

V is for : *a seagull stole her chips she was eating* vile, disgusting, yucky seagulls are the disgrace of all birds that can fly, them absolute fatties (she was buggin for the rest of that skz-codeq)

W is for : *randomly, out of the blue*why is life not getting funky anymore? (my exact question)

X is for : *on live* x-(7+95)=y“ please, abeg, go find changbin (she loves maths)

Y is for : *english school with skz pt.2* yes so the climax of the quintessential elements of the rainbow create the lyrical description of the factitous colours (like i said before, they’re all failing)

Z is for : *on skz-talker* zero amount of people called me sexy today… im sooo frickin pissed (not the white chicks reference)

𓍼 ⊹ ˚. ᝢ TAGLIST

@mynameisnotlaura ⤼ @alixnsuperstxr ⤼ @shaylaxo ⤼ @ziipzeepzop-eez

𓍼 ⊹ ˚. ᝢ NOTES

went to sleep at 4am

𓍼 ⊹ ˚. ᝢ GOD LOVES YOU 💕

[crystallizsch]

Hi 💃 Sorry this has been in my head for like an hour, but I was listening to music and I think the song called Past Lives REALLY fits Yuusha in some way?? I can't exactly form the words shdkajjckaf but the lyrics seem to make sense and I don't know how else to put it 🧍‍♀️

Past lives couldn't ever hold me down Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found I've got the strangest feeling This isn't our first time around Past lives couldn't ever come between us Sometimes the dreamers finally wake up Don't wake me, I'm not dreaming

(eugh it looks like they're doing a high-five but i wanted it for them to be dancing ;; oh well 🧍)

(also read more below bc this turned into another ramble omg i cant shut up)

HI HI! 👋👋👋👋 SORRY I COULDN'T HELP IT

AND I'M NOT EVEN SURE IF THIS IS THE RIGHT SONG YOU'RE REFERRING TO BC YOU DIDNT SPECIFY AN ARTIST BUT IT SEEMS TO FIT ????

i just pulled up the first ones when i looked up the song on spotify 😭

i think both are pretty much the same song though???

anyways EITHER WAY THIS GAVE ME EAR WORMS I CANT STOP LISTENING TO IT?? this is my type of music i cant explain it 🤧🤧

ALSO ALSO WAITTT WHY HOW -- HOWD YOU READ HER THIS WELL

IS SHE THAT OBVIOUS OR AM I JUST REALLY GENERIC

bc there's also this headcanon that there's a version of the twst cast back from the world where yuu/mc came from

and i'd like to think yuusha had a partner back in her world similar to jamil before she ended up in twst ;;;;

I've got the strangest feeling This isn't our first time around Past lives couldn't ever come between us

IM LOSING IT---- THEY ARE SOULMATES BECAUSE I SAID SO (<- delusional)

and also this specific line ,,,,

Don't wake me, I'm not dreaming

lowkey my mind is also buzzing with thoughts i can't put it all into words as to why this fits SO much, especially with yuu having dreams canonically

i guess for yuusha specifically she feels content with the people around her in twst but shes still convinced everything is like a fever dream and "going home" will put everything back to normal

so the line "dont wake me im not dreaming" is her true thoughts, she is in denial and she doesn't want to wake up from the "dream" that is twst wonderland bc shes finally happy