#those are a rare thing indeed these days.....

[thatfrailsoul]

– The chosen path

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

"Manuela", Conrad Kiesel

This word is so vast... There are so many possibilities, so many different stories, so many journeys that we can go through and that can shape our life, who we are... So many of them, and all depend on just our choice. A choice that is not at all easy to make. Not so easy to be sure of, even if we already made the first steps.

This reading focuses on the path that you already chose, that you did already start. It focuses on letting you know if it was indeed the right one or if there is still time to make steps back. If there is something regarding it to know and to keep in mind. (And a reading focused on helping you to choose the right path and journey for you, will be posted in a few days from now.♡)

Slow down for a moment. Take a deep breath, give yourself a needed moment of reflection and rest. Wander through the details of this painting... Which one attracts more your gaze? To which part of the painting it belongs to? Pay attention - it is showing you where your message hides and awaits.

– Pile One,

the two of swords, the ten of cups, the page of coins

It took a great deal of courage, didn't it? To make this choice, this uncertain step on a journey that you know so little about. It took all your strength to trust it, to trust others and their reassurance that it is alright, that you will be fine...

It is not at all something that you so often or easily do. Relying on others. Following their opinions or choice... But you were, you are still, so confused and new to this. To this phase of your life that no-one really prepared you for.

You didn't knew anything better. You weren't able to find or choose something different from what those by your side suggested you to pick... And now you just wander if it really will be so easy and right as they said. If, in the first place, their words and convictions were honest, and not just a brutal joke...

While still being so close to the very beginning of this journey, you can't help but look back and all around. Exactly like you did before, in hopes of finding the right one. But now you do it with more fear, even more anxiety than before. Hoping and at the same time fearing to see a sign, a warning, that will tell you that you indeed made a mistake...

But even though it seems so strange, so different from their usual intentions... Those that showed you this journey really did it with a genuine and honest heart. In a rare moment of openness and compassion, they saw in you that version of them that once feared the same. That was so confused and uncertain in the same way. They saw your struggles and worries that resembled so much theirs. And they saw, being someone external, those little hints and details about you and the right journey for you, that you couldn't see on your own, too pressured by the weight of a such important choice.

For once there wasn't any irony, any malice, any bad intention. For once it was just a genuine and heartfelt advice, the needed help, that they once desired so much to receive as well. It was just confidence that it can really work for you, it can really be right for you, for the way you are.

And it can. It truly can be the right path. No matter if you will decide to experience it up until the very end, or just for a period of your life. It has indeed something in store for you. An experience that is worth to be lived, lessons worth to be learned.

It can and will work out if only you go easier on yourself. If only you take your time. If only you do it one step at a time.

It is normal to feel anxious, to feel that pressure of the future that seems so influenced by this choice... But even that future can always change. It is not so scary and settled at all.

You will always be able to change things, to discover and understand more about the life that you want. But now... You already made this choice. You are here. At the very beginning, with so many different ways to live it and to go through it.

So focus your attention for a moment here, commit to this decision, and give it and yourself a chance. For it to help you make progress and create your own experience and life. And for you to enjoy it as you grow.

It was just the first step. Everything is still fine. Everything is still possible. You can still make things work for you on this path. If you so desire.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Two,

the star, the three of wands, the knight of coins

It all just feels so fast. So overwhelmingly fast in the way this one step, this one choice, caused so many things to shift in your life. New emotions, new worries, new routines and challenges ahead... All just because you really did thought that it was the right path for you, you were so confident about your choice...

And you were right, actually. You were right in your thoughts that analysed so much all the possibilities and options. You were right in your intuition and inner voice that said that you can do it, that it is the one. You were and are right. The same way this path is still safe for you, even if it seems so chaotic and challenging right now.

It is just the beginning. But not in a fatal, dooming way. It is not just the beginning of these difficulties, problems and thousand of questions without answers that will follow you till the end of your life...

It is just the beginning of this journey. A journey that, no matter how much information you gained or how many opinions you heard, it is still something that is new to you. Completely. Even if you planned it for so long. Even if it's not the first time you make this decision, choose this person, this career or so on. It is still different and new, it will be every single time. And at every first step it will be normal to have so many things to handle and to take care of. So many emotions and thoughts to process before being able to feel confident and calm.

Everything is alright. You didn't make any mistake. You didn't choose any fatal situation or journey. You are fine. This path is fine. It is safe. It is right. Just slow down and breathe. You need a moment, just one, before rushing in.

Let go for a moment of all the things you learned and prepared for this journey. Even if it took you so long to do it... You don't need it now. At least not all of them at once.

You don't need to comprehend everything now. To have the perfect understanding and plan for every question and situation. You don't need to find answers right here and now before making another step... You can just do it. And find it a little later, on your way, perhaps in someone that will be by your side.

You are not alone, whatever this journey might be. There will always be someone that will walk close to you, that will face the same things, and that will be open to take care of them together.

But you are trying to solve it and prepare everything all on your own. Even if no one asked you to, even if there isn't any need at all.

Just slow down. Observe. Allow yourself to truly feel this new beginning. Reflect on the things you are seeing, on what you are experiencing, not on what you could've or should've know.

Spend a moment to focus on yourself as you walk through it, not on the journey as you try to rush it and escape. Take your time, breathe in and breathe out. And remember the you that felt so confident and sure about your capabilities to handle this. Because they were right.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Three,

the moon, the two of coins, the one of coins

You worked so hard to create new possibilities, new chances in your life... Perhaps even too much. Focusing your all, your intentions and your dreams, all on the possibility to shift for the better this life that simply didn't fit you anymore...

You gave so much of yourself, in this profound hope that things will become better... But it took so long to happen... That you simply didn't have any choice but to settle, but to go for something that wasn't at all what you wanted, but that was already here, offering some sort of reassurance and safety in the days you most needed it.

You went in a different direction from what you pictured. You got through it all. The frustration, the desperation, the anger, the uncertainty and doubt, the acceptance...

But none of them were as painful as the regret you felt once that opportunity did come into your life, exactly when you already made peace with a different reality, and started to appreciate it the way it is, the ups and downs, making progress and learning to find something good even in this...

Nothing created more conflict and disruption as the decision and choice that you never really asked: the one between the journey you never wanted but accepted and started to get used to, learning how to navigate it and even being proud of the progress you made..; and the one that you for so long dreamed of, so much sacrificed for, but never received, at least not when you wanted it and asked for it.

You weren't prepared for it, you didn't see it coming.. and now you just don't know even how to feel about it. What to do. If it's the moment to say goodbye to that dream, or if to sacrifice for it the hard work of a different journey that you did.

So you are taking time. Making steps both here and there, trying to handle everything, not wanting to choose between one thing or another. Not wanting to feel again so vulnerable and afraid of what comes next.

You are silently working on it, consuming yourself as your mind that first was supposed to choose between them... Is so dangerously starting to consider to keep it going this way. Holding onto both choices, putting on the line your own health just to not risk to ruin and lose both paths again...

But it will happen, inevitably, if you will keep pushing yourself through the days that are simply too filled with all these things. You will lose both of them, sooner or later, simply because you are one, you can take care and experience just so much. You can't do everything and be everywhere. No matter how much you desire it.

You will lose both of them by simply losing yourself. Because it is a dangerous game. It is a too heavy of a sacrifice that you are asking from yourself.

You deserve, you need, to be able to experience one life, enjoy it, love it, feel it. Not only the stress and anxiety that comes from trying to balance two opposite paths.

Step back. Do for yourself this favorur. Stay still for just a moment. And be honest with yourself, with what your heart wants from this life.

Because it is not a matter of the progress you did, of the possibilities or challenges. It has nothing to do with the time you spent doing one thing or desiring the other. You can grow that experience, that progress and passion in yourself... you can start and try, and achieve your goals whenever you want.

But what you can't do is to consume your own self, forcing you to play two games, just for the sake of not losing once.

Choose your story, choose your life. And let go of the other that you know deep down never was yours, never spoke to your heart. You won't lose anything. You will only gain more honesty with yourself and more peace of mind. The safety and stability that you deserve but that you are sacrificing because of the fear of admitting what you feel now.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

[honeygrahambitch]

"And then I told Jack that that is all I can tell him. I can't make up facts about a serial killer just because he is not satisfied with the profile." Will explained as he watched Hannibal chopping a clove of garlic.

Silence.

Not receiving an answer was weird. Hannibal always had to make a comment. Especially when it was a complaint about Jack. Especially when Will rarely ever complains anyway.

But his mind seemed to be completely somewhere else.

"Then, Barack Obama visited our office. I told him he is invited to dinner tonight, I hope you are alright with that." Will said trying to test whether Hannibal was present or not. "Hannibal? What do you think?"

"Hm?" Hannibal finally reacted. "Sounds wonderful."

"Yeah." Will said and rolled his eyes. "Where are you?"

"I'm sorry, darling. What were you saying? You invited Jack over?"

"Yeah." Will replied, sarcasm obvious in his tone. "What's going on with you?"

"Long day. That is why I am really happy about having you here tonight." He said as he walked away from the kitchen isle and kissed the top of Will's head.

"Red or white?" He went on and walked towards the wine rack.

"This is a trap and I am not falling for it again." Will replied. "You are making steak, it's gonna be red. Try harder next time."

"Excellent." Hannibal approved and grabbed a bottle, which he placed in front of Will.

"Yeah, that's white, doctor." Will said. "Are you having a concussion or something?"

Hannibal looked at the bottle again. He had indeed grabbed the wrong one while meaning to reach for the Cabernet.

"Long day. Difficult patients." Hannibal said and fixed his previous mistake then headed towards the fridge to grab the wagyu steaks.

"Wine will fix it." Will declared. "Maybe let me take care of those. I'm not sure you can be trusted with the oven tonight."

"I love you but hands off. While I can admit that your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are superior, I believe my wagyu beef skills are a little bit better than yours."

"Fine. But do tell me about your day. I don't care about your patients, you don't let these things get to you. Tell me strictly about what messed you up."

Hannibal looked at Will and gave in.

"My mind played a trick on me and I've been thinking about it the whole day. It's a really silly occurrence."

"A silly occurrence is when Winston steals my underwear. Or when you steal my underwear. Whatever happened to you can't be silly."

Hannibal smiled.

"I was walking home from where I parked my car. And I passed by the playground from the corner of the street." He started as he placed the steak in the heated pen. He sighed and averted his gaze from Will. "This little girl looked identical to Mischa. Just for one second, I..."

"You believed it was her."

"And then I brushed it off. If you allow yourself to fall for these kinds of delusions you do nothing but harm yourself more. Even if it is just for a second." Hannibal said. "Hope is poisonous just as much as it is healing."

"In the end there is something beautiful in that." Will replied thoughtfully. "Even after a long time you are still able to catch glimpses of people who are no longer here. Be it only a second."

"I agree."

"You should have said something earlier. I do appreciate that you didn't even try to mask it in front of me."

"I am not afraid of looking vulnerable in front of you, darling." Hannibal said lovingly.

"Well done."

"Thank you?"

"No. The steak. At this point it's well-done. You killed the cow for a second time."

The comment made Hannibal anchor himself back to the kitchen and to the poor steak.

[chibinasuu]

Voice Mail | Usopp x Reader

Part of the Thousand Sunny Slice-of-Life Series

Other parts: { Sanji | Nami | Usopp (here) | Chopper }

Summary: Usopp's tone dial keeps you company during your night watch shifts on the Thousand Sunny Word count: 1,147  Tags: one-shot, fluff (maybe the tiniest smidge of angst?), domestic bliss onboard the sunny, platonic straw hat pirates x reader, no use of y/n, GN but written with F!Reader in mind

The crow’s nest went awfully quiet as the tone dial played the final note of the song stored inside it. 

You gazed out the window at the calm night sea. You could see waves lapping at the sides of the Sunny, the sound barely audible from your position on top of the foremast. On a night watch shift, a quiet night is certainly a good night. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel the loneliness of the too quiet night, especially in contrast to the rambunctiousness that was always present whenever the rest of the crew were awake. 

You picked up the dial and clicked its button again, the same song replaying for the umpteenth time that night. 

The first time you saw a tone dial was not long after you joined the Straw Hat Crew. 

You remembered gaping in amazement as an upbeat music flowed from an orange, shell-like thing that sat on the Sunny’s deck. Usopp was softly singing along to the tune as he polished Kuro Kabuto. 

Zoro similarly sat cross-legged nearby, polishing Wado Ichimonji in silence, his other two swords laid out on the ground before him. 

You crouched in the space between them, trying to take a closer look at the curious thingamajig. Usopp noticed your wonder-filled expression and grinned, “Cool, isn’t it?” 

You could only nod excitedly before fully plopping down next to him, “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“It’s called a tone dial, see? You can record and replay sounds with it.” Usopp explained, picking up the item and showing it to you. 

“This one, I bought from a merchant back in Sabaody — that was before you joined us — but whoa, I was so surprised when I saw so many of these “TD”s on sale at the market. Brook even recorded one!” Usopp rambled on, “Tone dials used to be so rare, you know? They somehow became mainstream during the two years that we were away, so someone must’ve figured out how they worked.” 

He took one of your hands and placed the tone dial on top of it, “Here, take it! I still have the one we got from Sky Island, anyway.”

Your mind belatedly caught on to what he just uttered so casually, “H-hold on, did you just say.. Sky Island?!”

“Oh, have I not told you about that one yet?”

You shook your head, and Usopp’s smirk widened.

“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day!” He pointed his thumb towards his chest, “Let the Great Captain Usopp tell you all about his adventures in the marvelous land of Skypiea!”

Knowing the sniper’s lying and exaggerating tendencies, you discreetly glanced at Zoro, your eyes asking a silent question. A low grunt was the only confirmation he gave that Usopp was indeed, telling the truth. 

Your heart pounded in anticipation, eagerly awaiting Usopp’s next words.

“It was the middle of the day. We were sailing in the open ocean, when suddenly, Nami’s log pose pointed straight up to the sky! We were still sailing with the Going Merry then — oh, you would’ve loved her! You see, she was this stunning caravel…”

You hung on to his every word as he recounted impossible tales about the powerful knock-up stream that took them to the sky, about gods and a giant snake, and a lost city of gold. It certainly sounded like a lie, but you could tell from the sparkle in his eye that there is truth behind all those bizarre exploits. Well, at least most of it, anyway. You really doubted the bit where God Enel was ultimately defeated by God Usopp’s 5-ton hammer. 

Oh, but how you loved his stories. More than that, you loved the way Usopp tells his stories. His animated gestures and facial expressions, the sudden plot twists that may or may not be true, and not to mention the way he impersonates your other crew members, which always brings a laugh out of you. Honestly, you could listen to him talk for hours on end. 

The creak of someone climbing up the mast’s ladder pulled you out of your thoughts. Usopp crawled up through the hole on the crow’s nest metal floor, there to relieve you from your night watch shift. 

He called out, “Hey, time to switch!”

The dial was still playing its song, catching Usopp’s attention. He smiled fondly and said, “You still play that during your night shifts? You must be bored of the song by now, no?”

“Honestly, it’s getting old now after listening to it for the millionth time.” You admitted with a laugh, “But I like how it keeps away the silence, you know? It gets real quiet sometimes in the middle of the night.” 

He looked a little somber for a beat, before elbowing you jokingly, “Well, I bet you’d rather listen to my stories rather than that goddamn song, don’t ya?”

You chuckled, “That, I certainly do.” 

You wanted to stay a little bit longer – maybe you could persuade Usopp to tell you one of his stories – but you couldn’t stifle the yawn that came over you. 

Usopp noticed and proceeded to usher you towards the ladder, “Go on you sleepyhead, off to bed now. Careful on your way down!”

You slowly make your way down the mast. Usopp’s face remained visible within the opening of the crow’s nest, his watchful eyes ensuring that you reached the ground safely. 

“Dream of me!” He called down mischievously with a wave once your feet touched the deck.

A laugh bubbled out of you as you playfully blew him a kiss before heading towards your room. 

A dial was waiting for you on your next night watch shift, placed carefully on the bench. It was accompanied by a note with your name on it, written in what you know to be Usopp’s handwriting. The dial looked different from the one Usopp gave to you, so you figured this must be the one he obtained during their adventures in Skypiea. 

You curiously clicked on the button.

“Ahem.. Hey, hey, hey! It’s Captain Usopp speaking, here to indulge you with tales of my daring adventures!”

Your lips tilted up in a smile as Usopp’s lively voice flowed out of the tone dial, filling up the empty room. 

“Um, I don’t think I’ve told you about Little Garden yet, so let’s start there, shall we? Buckle up, cause you’re in for a thrilling ride! We’re going back to prehistoric times with this one. Can you believe there were dinosaurs on that island? There were also giants, and a candle man, and a bomb man…”

You sit on the bench, eyes on the seas, dutifully working as the lookout for the night whilst listening to Usopp’s crazy stories. Maybe from now on, night watches won't be so lonely after all. You may even be starting to look forward to the next one.

a/n: this ended up being longer than expected, but i had tons of fun writing it! fun fact about the tone dials, oda did confirm in an sbs that they became mainstream in the Blue Sea during the 2-year time skip. i thought that was a cool little detail, so i wrote that in :)

Other parts: { Sanji | Nami | Usopp (here) | Chopper }

[avinkusprince]

so the wicked movie audio leaks........... honestly, she sounded good and the set looked fun. weirdly giving me a bit more hope for it.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

oh yeah the way mass effect made me think of portal which is surely what youtube was doing too in sliding me a portal related video which made me think of like ah yes that little harmonizing thing want you gone credits song does, another banger. then i was like wait speaking of secret losersongs filmed rehearsal videos just the other day was reexperiencing like code monkey's really a banger as well, the way that part of the chorus could have one line end on One Pitch then the next line end a half step up but Doesn't & that pwns actually. then going hang on and they're both jonathan coulton. they're All jonathan coulton (adding in: wow just like will putting still alive on his off the shits jared kleinman a.m. pump up playlist)

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[jyoongim]

We don't talk enough about the fact that the petname "baby" became super popular around the 1910's-1920's (Alastor's time). He calls everyone "dear" and "my dear" in canon but can you imagine him just laying the flirt on THICK and addressing his darling as baby bc he sees it as THE smoothest thing ever.

It was Valentine's Day and Hell seemed to be busier than usual. Charlie had everyone participate in decorating the hotel and saying something nice to each other.

You had made cards and little Knick-knacks for everyone. A cat plush for Charlie.

A dagger for Vaggie.

Boots for Angel.

Rare liquor for Husk

A bug zapper for Niffty.

The only person who you hadn’t been able to to give a gift to was Alastor. You had found a old timey radio that was trimmed gold with chestnut wood. It was beautiful and you hoped he would like it.

You squeaked as you bumped into something, head craning to see just the person you were looking for.

”Oh Alastor! You were just who i was looking for” you smiled, taking a tiny step back to reveal your gift.

The tall, red demon tilted his head as he cracked a smile.

”What do i owe the pleasure my dear” He asked as you gently push the gift into his hands.

You blushed, feeling nervous as he fiddled with the radio ”W-Well its Valentine’s Day andCharliereallyinsistedthat everyone do something nice for those they c-care about a-and ijustthoughtyouwouldlikeit!” You rambled seeing him sit the radio down and wrap a arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

A deep rumble vibrated throughout his chest at you buried your head in his chest in embarrassment 

“Oh darling I love it” he purred, lifting up your face by your chin to look at him.

His smile was  genuine, eyes full of playfulness “Oooh were you worried I wouldn’t like your gift baby?”

You blinked. Did he just-

“I got you a gift too baby” Your eyes lit up as  he pulled a tiny velvet gift box from his coat.

You let out a soft gasp, a pretty ruby necklace. “Oh Alastor…”

He motioned for you to lift your hair, securing the clasp and smoothing the jewelry on your neck. Taking the opportunity to nip at your neck

”Such a pretty doll you are baby”

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed

[critterbitter]

re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?

Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)

Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.

Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.

(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)

How it Started.

The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…

Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.

So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.

But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.

Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.

I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.

Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.

Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.

(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)

So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.

(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—

1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.

2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)

Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:

PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.

It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.

(As for Volo, well.

Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.

Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)

(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)

(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.

Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)

When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.

Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.

THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA

If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.

((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))

(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))

[hxxsxxng]

HEESEUNG 이희승 - STEPBROTHER

MINORS DNI

Word Count : 3.3k

Genre : SMUT

Content : step!sibling! (if you are uncomfy don’t read), begging, oral, nipple play, mentions of pandemic, unprotected sex, creampie. lmk if i missed anything!

Preview : After a pandemic took over the nation, how will you and your step brother cope with the house to yourselves.

Authors note : I hope you enjoy <3

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

It was an unexpected situation being stuck at home with Heeseung during the pandemic lockdown. He was only a few years older than you, but at very different stages of life - you were still in college while he had already graduated and was just living at home to save money.

With both your parents working the afternoon shift at the hospital as essential workers, you two had the house to yourselves during the day. You figured Hee would spend most of that time holed up in his room, playing video games and chatting with his friends online like usual. And at first, that's exactly what happened. For weeks, he'd wake up late and then disappear into his room, the sounds of gameplay and his friends' voices filtering out from behind the closed door.

Meanwhile, you filled those lonely days by mindlessly scrolling on your phone or napping the hours away in your own room, emerging only to grab food. The house felt eerily quiet and empty even with Heeseung there. You were both just about existing under the same roof, going about your isolated pandemic existence in parallel lines.

Seung had always been the quiet, reserved type - never one to flaunt romantic relationships or bring many girls around. He kept things low-key, sticking to his close circle of friends whom he was intensely loyal to. Looking at him, you would assume he never had any luck with the ladies. But saying he NEVER brought a girl home would be a complete and utter lie.

Back when he was in university, every once in a blue moon, you'd hear some...noises coming from his bedroom late at night. At first, you tried to ignore it, but the sounds of rhythmic creaking and muffled gasps were unmistakable. Your face would burn realizing what was going on in the next room over.

Your bedroom happened to border his, the thin walls giving you unintentionally intimate knowledge of Heeseung’s occasional overnight guests. A soft feminine giggle would drift through, followed by his low rumbling tones, indistinct but clearly meant to be seductive. The telltale sounds of activity would start up again minutes later.

You'd lie awake, pulling your pillow tightly over your ears, trying desperately to block it all out. But it never worked - small creaks, breathy gasps, and rhythmic squeaks of the bedsprings would persistently filter through no matter what. On those nights, you couldn’t help but to slip your fingers into your panties, wondering what it would be like if it were you in the room with him instead. This would even happen on nights of complete silence. The thought of being fucked senselessly by your stepbrother was eating you alive.

But the next morning was always awkward. You'd have to look Heeseung in the eye over breakfast, knowing you'd been an unwitting aural witness to his private activities. He'd act like nothing happened, utterly shameless, while you averted your eyes burning with silent humiliation.

Those rare evenings served as reminders that Hee did indeed have a sexual side, despite his outward personas a quiet, studious homebody.

You were surprised but pleased when Hee first started initiating hangouts and inviting you into his personal space. At first, it seemed innocent enough - watching movies together in his room, playing co-op video games side-by-side, or even just sitting in comfortable silence as you both worked or read. A welcomed change from the isolation you'd both been existing in.

But as the weeks rolled on, those hangout sessions started awakening feelings in you that you never expected to have towards your stepbrother. With so much time spent together in close quarters, you began noticing things about him that you'd previously overlooked - the way his shirts hugged his toned arms, how his brow crinkled adorably when he was concentrating, the rich warmth of his laugh.

You found yourself stealing sidelong glances at him as he gamed, admiring the sharp line of his jaw and how effortlessly cool he looked with that headset on. Or zoning out while bingeing shows, becoming hyper-aware of him next to you on the bed, close enough that you could smell his subtle cologne and body wash.

At first you brushed off those wayward thoughts and traitorous flutters in your belly. This was just your loneliness and proximity talking after being cooped up together for so long. But you couldn't deny the way your skin grew warm whenever Heeseung’s hand brushed yours reaching for the popcorn. Or how your breath caught when he absently stretched and his shirt rode up, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of toned abdomen.

What started as harmless hangouts quickly began skirting a dangerous line once you registered the undeniable physical attraction simmering between you two. You noticed him sneaking appreciative looks at you as well sometimes. The shifting energy was palpable, brewing tension that went beyond just bonding as stepson and stepdaughter.

Those hangouts that once brought you connective comfort took on a new, charged meaning. You tried to bury the symbolic meaning behind Seung inviting you alone into his private bedroom sanctuary. But it became impossible to ignore when he started finding excuses to "accidentally" graze you with his knee or arm, sending tingles through you at every simple point of contact.

It became a delirious game of brutal restraint and forced obliviousness whenever you were alone with him. You overanalyzed every smile, laugh, and lingering touch, uncertain whether you were reading too much into the gestures or if he felt the same smoldering tension. The captive, heavy atmosphere only grew more stifling with each encounter until you knew something had to finally burn through and break.

————-

The bedroom door clicks shut behind you and instantly that familiar electric tension crackles in the air. Your heart pounds as you turn to face Heeseung lounging on his bed, controller in hand as he's immersed in another video game.

"Hey, wanna join?" he asks casually, patting the space beside him. Such an innocent invitation loaded with so much more weight these days.

You nod, trying to keep your cool as you settle onto the bed, your sides brushing. The warmth of his body so close to yours is utterly disarming. His intoxicating cologne and body wash surrounds you in an arousing haze. You try to focus on the game but are hyperaware of every subtle movement, every shifted position that puts your bodies even closer.

Jungwon curses as his character dies and you chance a sidelong glance at him. The way the words slip from his mouth is so insanely sexy. The tendons in his forearms flex entrancingly as he grips the controller. Your gaze tracks up to the sharp line of his jaw, admiring his beautiful tanned skin. You tear your eyes away before he catches you staring, but not before drinking in the broad expanse of his shoulders straining against his t-shirt.

As the gameplay continues on, you can't resist sneaking admiring looks at the man beside you. The man who has been awakening such unbidden feelings and cravings in you for weeks now. The chemistry between you both has built to a fever pitch you can no longer ignore or rationalize away.

Your entire body is hyper-tuned to him, tingling at every casual point of contact - his knee brushing your thigh, the tickle of his arm hair grazing your skin as he shifts positions. You imagine how electrifying it would feel to have those muscled limbs wrapped around you instead of just these maddening, transient touches.

Hee lets out a dramatic groan of frustration at another death, running a hand through his soft brown hair. You watch hungrily as his shirt rides up to expose a tantalizing strip of toned abdomen. Does he have any idea the effect he has on you with these simple, unaware gestures? The aching need he stokes in you just by existing so close?

As if he can sense your yearning gaze, Heeseung turns his head to meet your eyes. You feel pinned under the heated intensity of his stare, rendered breathless as he deliberately lets his eyes drag over every inch of you. The atmosphere thickens further with the sudden acknowledgment that you both feel this irresistible magnetic pull.

In that searing, loaded look, you see reflected the inner turmoil you've been grappling with - the tangled guilt over these unbrotherly urges warring with the feverish desire that leaves you undone at his smallest glance. The unspoken question of what might happen if one of you finally has the courage to act on those simmering tensions that charge every breath between you.

You can't take this torture any longer. Your mouth is dry, body humming with arousal and need as you open your mouth to finally break the silence. But Heeseung cuts you off by closing the scant distance between you in one decisive movement, capturing your lips in a searing, hungry kiss you've been starving for.

————-

He pulls your head down into a more passionate kiss. You could tell that he has been wanting this. These kisses started turning into rougher, sloppier ones. Your tongues were exploring each other's mouths. He is naturally such a great kisser. He knew what to do and when to do it. He even bit your lip a few times, which was extremely hot.

He sat on the edge of the bed and signaled for you to straddle him. Such an invitation could not go unaccepted, so you crawled onto his lap and continued kissing.

     Without even realizing it, you start grinding your hips while on his lap, creating friction that you both desperately needed. It was so subtle but so effective. It made your breaths shallow but you didn't want Hee to say anything about it. You tried so hard to contain your self but you let out a slight moan.

"Mhmm do you like that baby?, you didn't think I would notice what you are doing here?, don't worry because i'm really enjoying it to."

     WHAT? You think to yourself. "I'm glad you are enjoying yourself." he says as he slightly chuckles.

     This man KNOWS how to make you feel embarrassed, but he doesn't mind what you are doing and you surely don't either. It's as if he were saying these things to provoke you to do it more. So you did. You were desperate.

     You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You could also feel his bulge get a lot more obvious under you.

     He gets to the point where he can't take it anymore. He grabs you and picks you up, in the same position that you were sitting on his lap in, and he turns you around and slams you onto the bed, having you laying on your back.

     His pants looked like they were getting tight from his  painfully large erection. You are so tempted to strip him of his clothes and have it your way, but, you knew that he wasn't gonna happen.

     He crawls on top of you and starts kissing you again. This time, more forceful and hungrily. He then starts kissing down your neck and your collarbones. He sucks on your sensitive skin, leaving purple hickies all over your upper chest and neck.

     Both you and him start breathing heavily. He pulls at the bottom of your t-shirt, signaling that he wanted to take it off of you. You lift your arms and he slides your shirt off.  You are left exposed with only a bra on. He goes in and starts leaving hickies on the exposed parts of your breasts.

     He goes back up to kissing your lips passionately while caressing your breasts with his big, muscular hands.

     You feel one of his hands slide down you back, you assume it's to unhook your bra. The feeling of his hand grazing on your back gives you goose bumps. He unhooks your bra and gently pulls it off of you.

     He admires your beautiful, topless body.

"I hope you know that I have wanted this for so long, ever since our parents got together" He said sincerely.

     You can't help but to blush. You are left speechless. You pull him down to give him another kiss.

     He pulls away from your lips and immediately goes down to sucking on your nipples. He swirls his tongue and it make you short of breath. "Ah~h~ you are so good at this Seungie." You hands are gripping his hair, fueling him to do more.

He stands up and towers over you, throwing his shirt off and to the side. His eyes were full of lust and determination. He ran his fingers up your thighs and stopped to hold them around the seam of your shorts. You lift up your hips, assuring him that it is okay to take them off.

He pulls of your shorts and your panties in one go. “You always look so fucking hot in these shorts when you walk around the house, but i’ve always wondered what you would look like with them off” he says in a deep, raspy voice. His bulge poking through his basketball shorts brushes against your naked pussy, making you so much more desperate.

“I have felt the exact same way about you” you return, leaning up and tugging at the waist of his shorts. “Please let me taste you” you begged.

He can’t help but to have a huge smile on his face and his shorts drop to the ground. His throbbing cock springs out, catching you by surprise. You imaged it to be big, but not like this. Heeseung could see the fear in your eyes as you knelt down to the ground.

“Don’t be scared sweetheart, I will make it fit”.

You don’t know of him saying this makes you feel reassured or more scared but you continued either way.

You grab the base of it and start off with small licks, trying to build up the courage to take more of it. He hummed a little bit when you put your mouth on it. He starts to run his fingers though your hair in the midst of it all.

Once you got confident enough to take more, you found yourself putting you mouth around it and sucking on it more. You start bobbing your head up and down. You were only taking about a third of it to tease him.

He is relieved from all of his built of tension finally being released by the feeling of your mouth around his dick, replicating the real thing.

He soon gets tired of you only sucking on the top and he grips your hair and slowly pushes your head a little bit farther each time, which didn't bother you too much because despite being scared of the size at the start, your throat seemed to mold to the size of his dick very easily.

He groans quietly because he doesn't want to admit that this good feeling has taken a toll on him. Suddenly, he pushes your head all of the way down, with the head touching the back of your throat. He repeats the motion, he is face fucking you with no shame.

The sound of you gagging on his dick and the sound of his quiet moans mixed together made you feel really good. Cute tears start rolling down your face and he looks down to you.

"You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, and with the tears in your eyes... I almost want to take a picture and save it for later." he said admiringly

You wish he fucking did. You wish that you had met him before your parents met, so that you both could be together instead.

When he talks to you this way you can't feel any other way but than accomplished. You, making your stepbrother feel really good, was a hard concept for you to grasp, but you loved it.

He pulls out of your mouth and pushed your back onto the bed. He leans down and hovers him self over you. “Are you sure you want this” he whispered in your ear. You could feel nothing but horniness and desperation and all you could do was agree to cross the line that could never be taken back.

"Yes, please, this is exactly what I need."

He smiled at your words and starts massaging your clit with his tip slapping it on you wet folds. One he felt the time was right, he gently inserts himself inside of you.

"Fuuuck~" he said under his breath.

He starts with 1 inch, then 2, then 3 until he is almost all the way inserted in you. Giving you time to adjust to his size. He starts going in and out slowly, making sure that you are as comfortable as possible. You winced at the pain at the beginning, but slowly, the pain was turning into pleasure. You had never taken a cock this big in the past, the new feeling was exciting, but stung as well.

     He starts picking up the pace once you signaled that it was okay for him to do so. His face and chest was glistening with sweat which you found extremely hot. His deep breathing and the faces he would make as he was sliding his member in and out of you is something that you just don't forget.

“We should have been doing this a long time ago, I can’t get enough of this pussy” he groans

Your cheeks turn red at the thought that these forbidden feelings for your step sibling were not one sided.

     He starts going fully in and almost all of the way out with each stroke. He throws his head back in pleasure and his grunts and moans start to get louder. The pace is really fast and it feels like you are on a whole new world. The sound of your skin slapping together and the sound from how wet you are make the atmosphere of the room more intense. Your moans are all over the place, changing from whimpers, to gasping for air, or just screaming his name.

     He used his thumb to stimulate your clit. He was like a professional, knowing every trick in the book to make a woman cum. This in itself would make you reach your high very quickly, but you try to hold it back.

     "I had imagined your pussy to be heavenly, but this is so much better." Seung says smiling. He takes pride in making you really wet.

“It feels- So good” You choke up. A few more strokes and you could start to feel your orgasm approaching.

     "Angh, i'm almost there Hee." you say out of breath.

     "Hold it back for me, for just a little bit longer." he says. You are determined to wait until he says it's okay.

He pounds deeper into your pussy, brushing agains your most sensitive spot, making you scream out. His tip repeatedly pressing against your cervix as he bottoms out, as if his dick was perfectly made to fit inside of only you.

Your walls clenched around his dick and he became more breathless. “Let’s cum together”

“Please Seungie, i’m so close pleaseee”

Your cute begs sent him over the edge. He strokes getting slower and sloppier as he releases his seed inside of you. His dick was pulsating inside of you while you rode out your high, digging your nails into his back while trying to contain yourself.

He slowly pulls his limp dick out of you and grabs a rag to clean you up. He leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. “You can not not anyone” he states sternly.

“Not a soul” you responded looking directly into his eyes.

He chuckles “I should invite you into my room more often”

[pensbridgerton]

On the sixth of April, in the year 1812—precisely two days before her sixteenth birthday—Penelope Featherington fell in love.

It was, in a word, thrilling. The world shook. Her heart leaped. The moment was breathtaking. And, she was able to tell herself with some satisfaction, the man in question—one Colin Bridgerton—felt precisely the same way. Oh, not the love part. He certainly didn’t fall in love with her in 1812 (and not in 1813, 1814, 1815, or—oh, blast, not in all the years 1816–1822, either, and certainly not in 1823, when he was out of the country the whole time, anyway). But his earth shook, his heart leaped, and Penelope knew without a shadow of a doubt that his breath was taken away as well.

For a good ten seconds.

Falling off a horse tended to do that to a man.

It happened thus:

She’d been out for a walk in Hyde Park with her mother and two older sisters when she felt a thunderous rumbling under her feet (see above: the bit about the earth shaking). Her mother wasn’t paying much attention to her (her mother rarely did), so Penelope slipped away for a moment to see what was about. The rest of the Featheringtons were in rapt conversation with Viscountess Bridgerton and her daughter Daphne, who had just begun her second season in London, so they were pretending to ignore the rumbling. The Bridgertons were an important family indeed, and conversations with them were not to be ignored.

As Penelope skirted around the edge of a particularly fat-trunked tree, she saw two riders coming her way, galloping along hell-for-leather or whatever expression people liked to use for fools on horseback who care not for their safety and well-being. Penelope felt her heart quicken (it would have been difficult to maintain a sedate pulse as a witness to such excitement, and besides, this allowed her to say that her heart leaped when she fell in love).

Then, in one of those inexplicable quirks of fate, the wind picked up quite suddenly and lifted her bonnet (which, much to her mother’s chagrin, she had not tied properly since the ribbon chafed under her chin) straight into the air and, splat! right onto the face of one of the riders.

Penelope gasped (taking her breath away!), and then the man fell off his horse, landing most inelegantly in a nearby mud puddle. She rushed forward, quite without thinking, squealing something that was meant to inquire after his welfare, but that she suspected came out as nothing more than a strangled shriek. He would, of course, be furious with her, since she’d effectively knocked him off his horse and covered him with mud—two things guaranteed to put any gentleman in the foulest of moods. But when he finally rose to his feet, brushing off whatever mud could be dislodged from his clothing, he didn’t lash out at her. He didn’t give her a stinging set-down, he didn’t yell, he didn’t even glare.

He laughed.

He laughed.

Penelope hadn’t much experience with the laughter of men, and what little she had known had not been kind. But this man’s eyes—a rather intense shade of green—were filled with mirth as he wiped a rather embarrassingly placed spot of mud off his cheek and said, “Well, that wasn’t very well done of me, was it?”

And in that moment, Penelope fell in love.

When she found her voice (which, she was pained to note, was a good three seconds after a person of any intelligence would have replied), she said, “Oh, no, it is I who should apologize! My bonnet came right off my head, and . . .”

She stopped talking when she realized he hadn’t actually apologized, so

there was little point in contradicting him.

“It was no trouble,” he said, giving her a somewhat amused smile. “I— Oh, good day, Daphne! Didn’t know you were in the park.”

Penelope whirled around to find herself facing Daphne Bridgerton, standing next to her mother, who promptly hissed, “What have you done, Penelope Featherington?” and Penelope couldn’t even answer with her

stock, Nothing, because in truth, the accident was completely her fault, and she’d just made a fool of herself in front of what was obviously—judging from the expression on her mother’s face—a very eligible bachelor indeed.

Not that her mother would have thought that she had a chance with him. But Mrs. Featherington held high matrimonial hopes for her older girls. Besides, Penelope wasn’t even “out” in society yet.

But if Mrs. Featherington intended to scold her any further, she was unable to do so, because that would have required that she remove her attention from the all-important Bridgertons, whose ranks, Penelope was quickly figuring out, included the man presently covered in mud.

“I hope your son isn’t injured,” Mrs. Featherington said to Lady Bridgerton.

“Right as rain,” Colin interjected, making an expert sidestep before Lady Bridgerton could maul him with motherly concern.

Introductions were made, but the rest of the conversation was unimportant, mostly because Colin quickly and accurately sized up Mrs. Featherington as a matchmaking mama. Penelope was not at all surprised when he beat a hasty retreat.

But the damage had already been done. Penelope had discovered a reason to dream.

Later that night, as she replayed the encounter for about the thousandth time in her mind, it occurred to her that it would have been nice if she could have said that she’d fallen in love with him as he kissed her hand before a dance, his green eyes twinkling devilishly while his fingers held hers just a little more tightly than was proper. Or maybe it could have happened as he rode boldly across a windswept moor, the (aforementioned) wind no deterrent as he (or rather, his horse) galloped ever closer, his (Colin’s, not the horse’s) only intention to reach her side.

But no, she had to go and fall in love with Colin Bridgerton when he fell off a horse and landed on his bottom in a mud puddle. It was highly irregular, and highly unromantic, but there was a certain poetic justice in that, since nothing was ever going to come of it.

Why waste romance on a love that would never be returned? Better to save the windswept-moor introductions for people who might actually have a future together.

And if there was one thing Penelope knew, even then, at the age of sixteen years minus two days, it was that her future did not feature Colin Bridgerton in the role of husband.

She simply wasn’t the sort of girl who attracted a man like him, and she feared that she never would be.

Romancing Mister Bridgerton - Prologue

[dolene]

Could you do SMAU for Fernando Alonso with wife baker!reader? She would always bring something with her every time she went to the paddock. So, everyone was looking forward to it when shes gonna grave them with her presence. Nando would always fight for her attention with everyone. The Internet also loves her very much indeed. Something fluff and maybe a little suggestive 👀You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

﹙𝒮weetest pie : fernando alonso x reader﹚

she certainly steals the attention of the people around her, especially when everyone likes her new brand that she just introduced recently. but what's wrong if a certain person fights for her attention more when they also begs for hers over time?

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on twitter...

sonreir

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sonreir Wild and Bewildered. Now available at sonreir.com

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sonreircafe added a photo to their story!

sonreircafe · 17h

alo.png (private)

liked by alex_albon and 258 others

alo.png I might kiss those lips if she kept teasing me with it...

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[matchadobo]

KIDD; aphrodisiac

wc: 2592

summary: kidd took an aphrodisiac but he suddenly becomes overwhelmingly sweet.

warning/s: 🔞, nsfw, fem reader, married reader and kidd, fluff seggs?

kidd rarely becomes sweet. he's so shy about it he mostly goes tsundere on you when you tease him about it. even during intimate times, kidd always go rough, far from sweet. but not enough to hurt you though. you'll always have bruises and hand and bite marks across the surface of your skin each time you two finish. he's always proud of it, not that you mind it anyways. as a matter of fact, you love it.

so it baffled you, froze up your nerves from head to toe as kidd latched onto you with the sole need of warmth and cuddles in the middle of the day.

it happened one sunny afternoon, the heat was slowly becoming unbearable as the clock approached three. you were in the middle of a conversation with one of the girls since kidd and the boys went out for a drink. yes, they do this often in the middle of the day.

it didn't occur to you that they had already returned, not before kidd crashed by the couch and grumbled on your skin as he pulled you closer in an abruptly it elicited a squeal from you, cutting you off midsentence.

"missed you." he mumbled on your skin, almost sounding unintelligible as he slurred from the liquor that wafted from his mouth. "you smell nice, really nice." he gave your shoulder a peck, nuzzling his nose deep at the your collarbones where your perfume was most concentrated.

you guys were left alone by the crewmates you were initially talking to, sensing the possible escalation of events. heat rose up to your cheeks and you tried fighting the sudden spiking of your heart rate, but his firm grip on you only made your situation worse.

"what's up, kidd? are you... did you have too much to drink?" you tried looking down to search and meet his eyes. he looked at you with a half-lidded gaze, pools of amber saturating his irises yet not a speck of soberness evident.

"somethin' wrong with snugglin'?" he cocked a brow, a pout following after. "thoughtcha like the part where i cuddle and shit. well, you're in luck, bonnie. i'm cravin' one and i don't plan on lettin' go."

where's your lover and who possessed his body at this moment? kidd would NEVER say this even at gunpoint. he always says those soft lovey dovey shit you bring up is not his thing, but he never deprives you of it of course. he just doesn't initiate it on his own. which led you to believe that he was indeed not the romantic type.

"drank this thing- 's new and the barista recommended it. 's the kind you always order so i figured tryin' it. a gin and tonic, strawberry flavoured. too tame for me at first, walked here fine. but as soon as i saw you, think it kicked in." he narrated languidly, sometimes slurring.

you snorted, from the flow of his speech and the absurdity of his claimed cause for his behavior.

"so a strawberry gin and tonic made you act all cuddly?" you asked, stifling a smile and laugh.

"not only that, dove." his flesh hand stroked the bare skin of your thigh, riding up under your skirt until it teased the thin fabric of your panties. "'s not only the cuddles i want."

spit got stuck on your throat and you coughed a bit. feeling his fingers poke at the top of your cunt made you sweat a little bit.

"w-we shouldn't-" you tried standing up, but he held you securely on your place.

"why?" his voice was gentle, sincerely curious with a genuine glint of begging in his eyes. "'s my ship. i'm the captain. you're my wife. my sweet, angel wife. anythin' wrong messin' around in 'ere?" his hands dug deeper to palm your cunt, one of his fingers poking in with the cloth rubbing inside you mildly. "you look extra nice today so wipe that frown of your face, aye? or else i will." his kisses peppered your arm down to your shoulder.

"what's gotten into you? you're suddenly so... clingy and sweet." you squirmed under his touch, furiously stifling the moan that pleads to come out of you. the pace of your heart was also parallel with the rapid thoughts in your brain. puzzling questions that were prompted by kidd's sloppy kisses down to your forearm and onto your hand, especially close to your ring finger.

kidd reached over to your ear and whispered, "somethin' in me is screamin', it's beggin' to just come out to bend you over and fuck you here in front of the crew. but at the same time, i also can't let you go because i'm dyin' for you. you're drivin' me crazy, bonnie. when your hair is tied up like that, with your damn perfume's extra pungent, and your clothes fittin' a little too tight. it is all too much for me. and maybe you're right, i had too damn much of that gin and tonic i'm starting to get real dizzy." he pinched his temples, the gruffness of his voice mediated the beat of your heart into a much faster pace as the red in your cheeks into a darker hue of red. "but i know that as a matter of fuckin' fact, i am mad for you and your body. i want to keep touchin' and playin' the hell out of it. i feel different and you have somethin' to do with it. i'm most definitely not lettin' you go."

you took a deep breath as the symptoms somehow correlate with the town's special you saw on one of the banners by the docks. "this is quite possibly the craziest thing to ever happen, but did you drink an aphrodisiac?"

"why does it matter?"

"an aphrodisiac heightens sexual desires, kidd. fucking hell, did you not even ask the bartender?" you latched off away from him, trying to sober him up. but you know damn well that's not gonna cut it. you need to fuck it out of him.

"that must be why i'm rock hard right now, or is it the way you're beratin' me?" he reached for your hand once more, stroking your knuckles down to your nails before placing a kiss on it.

you sighed heavily, running fingers through your hair. now you have to deal with his state of heat. not that you hate it.

"aaah don't go angry on me now, aye? why don't we bond a little? lately, we've got our own shit going on. 'bout time we catch up, whatcha say?" he snakes his hand around your waist, gripping firmly as he rested his head on your mounds. "maybe this aphrobullshit finally brings us together so help me out here, hm?" he dragged your hand atop the tent of his pants, his boner painfully growing big and suffocating at the restriction of his clothing.

"since when do you fucking speak like that? you're acting...kind. i'm anxious." it's a joke, but it really does unsettle you. and intrigues you.

"am i?" a smile gradually curved up his lips, studying your face as he inched closer. grinning as he found you adorable at your dubious expression. "what are you thinkin'?"

"i gotta deal with your bullshit again, huh?"

kidd chuckled as a response, scooping you up in a bridal carry towards your shared quarters. not minding the lingering and following glances that comes your way. moreso the scandalous remarks on his menacing boner he didn't give a fuck how obscene it looked as he marched across the deck. all he wanted was to gaze at your shy and laughing state.

he sat down at the edge of the bed before settling you on his lap, something different and foreignly gentle for him. he trailed kisses by the curve of your jaw, sucked softly on your pulse, and warmed his cold hands on your body under your shirt.

you recoiled a little from feeling ticklish at his light touches, if it weren't for his support on your back, you would've fell.

in hopes of servicing him too, you started grinding atop his length. but he stopped mid kiss to stop you.

"mm-mm, no need for that, bonnie. you can stay put." he started. "i want you to keep it nice and steady. keep it between your folds, aye? ain't it more intimate?"

"intimacy, huh? i didn't think you'd have any romance in you. usually, i gotta force it into you."

"hm? think you can handle it now?" he tucked your hair at the back of your ear before having a steady hold on your jaw and cheek as he connected lips with you, smiling as he did so.

sex with kidd will always be fast paced and eager. clothes don't even act as a barrier, he WILL fuck you even in it. but right now, he did everything slowly as he took his time unbuttoning your shirt. he felt your skin up, detaching his lips away from you just to plant kisses on your chest and arms.

tossing the garment away, he worked his hands up to the hooks of your bra. he clicked them off skillfully, with months or even years of practice from your past intercourses. as your breasts came unrestrained, he held each one and sucked on the bundle of nerves one after the other.

you swallowed hardly, pressing his head further in your chest. the sound and feel of his kisses messed with your mind. he was carnal yet calm, he had you under a firm grip yet his touch and movements were soft. he didn't bite you as hard as he usually does and instead focused on making you feel good.

he stood up and turned around while still carrying you in a stable manner, his lips still glued on peppering your chest. he then placed you down the mattress; yes, placed you down gently at that. as oppose to what he usually does, which is throw you down the bed. not that you mind that bit, adds a bit of spiciness in your bedroom adventures. but his tenderness has somehow tinged at the way your heart beats.

"you're a little too gentle now, it's scaring me." you remarked, giggling a little at the way he smiled back. "part of me thought all you knew was to slam me down the bed."

"seems like you miscalculated. enjoy it while it lasts, aye?" he carried on giving service to you as he lets his kisses cascade down your abdomen, pinching your skin a little at the squishy parts.

kidd slid your skirt off along with your soaked panties. kissing your ankles up to your shin, and your thighs in such a soft, baby touch. his fingertips gliding smoothly down your lower extremities as he grazes his lacquered nails gingerly down your sides. as if he's exploring your body the first time.

"i-it tickles!" you squealed a little, knees folding as his touch scratched a laugh out of you.

he smiled against your skin while he neared your cunt. he placed his hands on your groin and started kissing your sopping core vertically. he closed his eyes, soaking in the flavor of you. you threw your head back and shut your eyes, tugging on his hair as he retained his relaxed pace in drinking you up.

but his hands kept grazing tenderly across your body. he can't get enough of touching you it seems. until he finally lost his patience, not even letting you cum. he stood up and gave his length a few pumps, spitting on it to lube it up.

"really? missionary?" you asked, panting as you try to recover from your high and brace yourself from what's about to come. "you never do this, baby. it's fine. i don't know what craziness that gin and tonic filled you up with but i know you won't want this position to satisfy that painful boner."

"somethin' wrong with doing your favorite position? and hey, we did this plenty of times! on our honeymoon and...on your birthday..." he looked away, embarrassed at his conclusion. kidd really is an ass man after all, why else would he want to not see his favorite part of you during sexy times? much more when he's craving it tenfold?

"look, the aphrodisiac won't go away if you don't cum. or even relieved of that sexual fever you have. we can do reverse or doggy, it's oka-"

"enough yappin'. i may not see that blessed ass of yours, i can cum very well enough if i just see you whorin' over my cock, aye?" he grinned, it's like the old kidd was back all over again. except his voice was somewhat kinder, devoid of that gruff and coarse tone he always holds during sex coated with commands.

and so he began. as the first stretch came, both of you took a deep breath. no matter how much you two do it, it still drives you to the ends of the earth at how incredible he stretches you out. he settled until the head of his cock touches your cervix, making you squirm a little; a habit of his. grinning at you as he did so, proud of what he did to you.

he propped himself up with his arms so he could be close to you and you wrap your legs around his waist, pressing him deeper in you. he even choked at the feeling with his cock getting squeezed inside.

"ready?"

"since when does eustass kidd ever ask?"

then it felt like your honeymoon again. or the night you two first fucked. when he first slides it in and you two share an exhale at the impact, same as now. he made sure to press foreheads with you, looking you deep in the eye as your agape lips barely touch and brush against each other periodically.

"y-you are so fuckin' tight, we oughta do missionary often, aye?" he fisted the sheets beside your head.

"that's on you, you'd rather see my ass." you choked out, rolling your eyes as he tried adjusting himself and your walls started tightening around him. "so s-shut up and start moving."

he laughed a little, linking fingers with you before finally pacing back and forth. he took his time sliding in and out of you, not enough to cause friction at his pace nor overstimulate you. he wanted it to be slow, to look deep in your eyes as he watched you drift into that state where you go completely stupid over how good he fills you up.

"all it took was a damn drug to make you go sweet, is that it?" you smiled, fingers latching off of his grip to reach over and hold his face between your hands.

he blushed more than usual, his eyes are a little glassy, his ears are redder, and his movements stuttered. after all, his length was throbbing a little too hard in you.

"hey, i'm sweet." he got defensive. furrowing his brows as he inched back a little, seeming to be offended at your remark. "i-i'll take you out tomorrow, dinner. maybe watch somethin'. buy you those shoes you want, or a nice dress. then we'll take a bath by the tub, buy some wine and tulips or somethin'." he looked away, hiding his face and the way he's beet red right now.

"oh my god. i'm about to get a whole barrel of that gin and tonic, kidd!"

this is totally canon i know so 😤

[withleeknow]

On his clingy days, which are quite rare, Minho will snuggle up against your back like a koala whilst you cook or clean. As you wander around the house like two linked penguins, his head will be resting on your shoulder and his arms are wrapped around your waist.

i may or may not be in #softleeknowhrs rn

- 🍓

clingy mimo 😭

you're right, those would be rare days indeed. so when they do happen, it makes it even more special.

physical touch as his secondary love language goes crazy. it would start off with lingering touches while you're still in bed together, him not willing to let you get up and go about your day just yet. then he thinks oh? he can just spend your day with you. that's when he starts latching onto your body wherever you go - when you brush your teeth and wash your face, when you do your morning skincare, when you take care of the chores that you left until today.

he'd let you go when it's time to make breakfast though. but, since he's the chef, he would wrap your arms around his own waist from behind, making you back hug him as he cooks for the both of you. you look like a couple of dumbasses maneuvering the kitchen, bumping into counters, knocking things over, but he still wouldn't let you let go of him :(

[stinkysam]

Buggy the Clown - So handsome.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “buggy with a reader who wears glasses ( I’ve never seen anyone write for glasses reader 😩)  maybe one day reader pulls out there glasses while trying to read something.” - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

How was Buggy supposed to know you have glasses ? You never wore them ! So to him, you had great eyesight.

He just thought your heavy squinting problem was just you thinking while reading or watching something from afar.

Yet, you had glasses since you were a kid and needed to wear them all the time, which you stopped doing when you became a pirate. They got broken too easily. How many times have you had to buy a new pair just after getting the new ones again…

So you rarely wore them except when you really needed them. But so far it didn't happen much. Except for today.

Today, you had put your hands on a treasure map and couldn't read it. Every details and inscriptions were too small.

Kneeling down to read it, you patted your pocket for your glasses, finding the box quickly. You opened it and put them on and, oh, wow, suddenly everything was neat and clear. People see like this all day long without any help ? That's how you're supposed to see ? You blinked several times, getting adjusted to your new vision and focused back on the map.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here ?” Asked Buggy, approaching you from behind. “Found something interesting ?”

“A treasure map, I think…” You turned to him briefly before looking back at the piece of paper, to make sure it's indeed a treasure map as in map for berries and gold and not some kid's stash of broken dreams and hope. “Wouldn't want to find like last time, a chest full of Uta goodies and posters. We took it, but still. Gold's better. Right ?”

But Buggy had stopped listening, staring at the back of your head.

“Look at me ?” He said moving his head slightly to the side to see your face.

“What ?” You partially turned around. But you were still mainly facing the map.

“Look at me, please.”

You turned around with a frown, not understanding why he was demanding such random things.

He continued staring at you, blinking slowly.

“Whose glasses is that ?” He asks quietly. From whom did you take them…

“Me ?”

“Yes, you.” He rolled his eyes, hands on his hips.

“No, I mean, those are mine.” You said and Buggy continued to look at you. He squinted his eyes, grimacing as he leaned closer, almost nose to nose.

“Since when do you have glasses ?”

“Ferever ?” You blinked back in confusion, not realizing it was the first time he saw you with them. And for a second he wondered if his memory wasn't playing him games. Did he forget you had glasses…?

“Huh…” He looked at your face, still grimacing. What… ?

“Oh ! No ! Yeah, it's the first time I wear them in front of you, you're right.” You said with a laugh, taking them off.

“What !?”

“Yeah.”

“You wear glasses ?!” He yelled, taking them from your hands and putting them on his nose. “How blind are you !?” He asks, moving his flying hand in front of himself.

“Uh… a bit.” You laughed, trying to get them back from him. Without success.

“Wait. So you're seeing me blurry ?”

“Y- yeah ?”

“And you still chose to date me !?”

You said nothing, an awkward smile on your face.

“You only know me blurry !?”

“...It's nice to see you neatly.” You said with a grin.

Buggy grimaced dramatically, cutting himself in pieces, contracting in a random pose.

“Blurry !? I was blurry all this time !?” His hands flew to you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you.

“I fell in love with you blurry, yeah. Are you scared that neatness will change something ?”

He froze.

“It's not- is it possible ?”

“I don't know, let me check.” You said, grabbing back your glasses to put them on. You look at him and make a thinking pose. Buggy stares at you, waiting.

“...” You say nothing, letting the tension build. “You're right, it's too different. I can date you with a neat vision.” You take them off, wiping fake tears.

“Whaaat !? [Name] !” He shook you again. “What does this mean !?”

“You're too handsome.” You fake sobbed. And he froze again.

“What is wrong with you !? Saying such things !?” He said, pushing your head away, while grumbling.

“Understand me !” You continue sobbing. “I'm used to the Buggy who's pretty all blurry. How am I supposed to take I have a boyfriend who's not just pretty but handsome as fuck !”

“Stop it !” He blushed slightly.

“I should've put on my glasses sooner !” You said, eagerly putting them back on to look at him. “Such beauty, I have to look at you !”

“Stop it !” He screamed, face all red from both anger and embarrassment. “Give me the damn map instead !” And with that you stopped fake sobbing in an instant, turning around to grab what he wanted with a small smile.

“Aye.” You simply said, handing it to him, smiling proudly at how red you made him.

[allfearstofallto]

Dandelion Wine

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader x Yandere(?) Childe

Forced Marriage AU

Word Count: 4.1k

Synopsis: No crush is simply harmless when married to Scaramouche, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. And what he doesn't see won't affect him, so what's the harm in putting on a little show?

TW: Yandere, obsessive themes, forced marriage, mentions of abuse/violence/punishment, reader mentions dissociating during sex, dub-con, unprotected sex, finishing inside, voyeurism, infidelity, masturbation (m. & f.)

Scaramouche believed that dinner should be eaten in silence with only the sound of the silverware and plates clattering. Hence why he rarely spoke at the table. He also believed that the same morals he applied to himself, were for you as well. Your sweet, plump lips that he kissed and sucked constantly, were to be shut and devoid of noises, only eating during meal times. The food that was prepared was meant to be savored, every bite of it tasted and appreciated. Because of that, dinners felt long, quiet, and worst of all, extremely tense.

The only times things were different, was when Childe came to visit. Number eleven as your husband called him, and Ajax as the orange haired man insisted he wanted you to refer to him as. His cheeky smile and big, blue eyes practically lit up the room, he was practically the epitome of visual charisma. And there was his incessant chatter, Scaramouche would say, his non stop talking about something or other. You never had the heart to tell the man you married that Childe actually talked a normal amount and that he was abnormally quiet.

“Have you ever seen a piece of mora straight from Liyue,” he asked rather loudly while holding up the coin, “Shiniest you'll ever see one. Man, those Liyue natives have no idea how lucky they are!”

You smiled alongside the man, also finding the topic interesting. The coin was indeed shiny, the only impurities on it being the fingerprints from Childe's hands. Other than that, it glimmered, making you realize how old and dirty the mora you must've had before was. Scaramouche wasn't impressed at all. He wasn't even paying attention. Quietly sipping his miso soup at the head of the table, his eyes only focused on his meal.

“Want it?” Childe asked you and you tried not to perk up too much, but your excitement was palpable. Seldom did Scaramouche entertain you with conversation or fun gifts. The only thing he'd bring you back from his travels was a single flower and maybe a regional tea to try together, but nothing you typically enjoyed.

“May I take it, my lord?” Pleading eyes looked at your husband who seemed more irritated than usual.

He let out a sigh, dropping his chopsticks in frustration, “Will it make the both of you shut up?”

Harsh words were nothing new to you, but you had to admit that those eyes of his made you freeze up like stone. No matter how many days you spent married to him, you never grew less afraid of your husband. And you definitely never found yourself coming to love him.

“Yes, my lord,”

He nodded to Childe and the coin was dropped into your hand. You held it as if it were fragile, not wanting to stain the shiny metal anymore than it already was. Your lips formed into a weak smile that you gave to Childe, then another one to Scaramouche who merely nodded at your display of joy, seemingly disinterested.

His chopsticks were picked up, a sign that he wished for dinner to continue on. You picked up yours as well. Your months of living with your spouse meant you had plenty of time to practice. Little leeway was given to you when it came to what you ate with, and despite the fact that you were originally from Mondstadt, you were given chopsticks with every meal. Time and practice made you grow accustomed to them, that and the fact that Scaramouche wouldn't allow you to eat with anything else. Learn to eat with them or starve, he told you. And you did grow terribly hungry.

Childe was more of a special case. He apparently lacked dexterity in hands. You saw it in the way he struggled to use the bow he was hell bent on learning and in the way he struggled to use chopsticks. Throughout the course of the meal, he'd already dropped three pairs, fumbling them dramatically like a character in a comedy play. Each time he'd lose a pair to gravity, leaving the wooden sticks on the floor, he'd look at his barely touched meal. The tragic, almost hopeless look on his face would elicit a laugh from you, followed by Scaramouche shooting you a very knowing glare. He'd sent you to your room without dinner many times before and for much less. Those glares were a good warning to shut up.

“Man! I can't seem to figure out how you eat with these things,” the orange haired male was holding one stick in either hand, instead using them to stab through the food and bring it to his lips. You held back your laughter again, instead forcing yourself to swallow more of your meal.

You had a crush on Childe. Maybe it was because of how kind he actually was or maybe it was because he was the only man you'd seen outside of your lawful husband in a year, but you did like him. He was funny, strong, and most importantly very attractive. Blue eyes and orange hair, a smile that could make a girl swoon with perfectly straight, white teeth. His voice was sultry, smooth like fine dark liquor, but he also knew when to be funny. His sense of humor was more comical to you than Scaramouche's dry humor or snide remarks. You liked Childe. Way more than you wanted to admit.

After dinner was a free time for you. From the time the plates were clean, until it was time for you to go to bed, you were allowed to wander the manor and do what you want. During this period, Scaramouche would be off doing what he pleased. Typically leaving the house to enjoy his night walks, where he'd be gone for hours. It was truly your only time of peace in hell he called home. It was also the only time you could talk to Childe when he came to visit. The two of you would spend the hours just telling each other whatever, it was mostly just you listening to him tell of his travels across all seven nations as you longed for the perceived freedom he had.

Much to your dismay he was nowhere to be found after dinner. You felt stupid searching the house looking for him. The interest towards him was likely one sided and on the slim chance it wasn't, you knew that nothing would happen between the two of you. Yet you looked for him. He was still good for conversation.

Find him you did, at the end of the second floor hallway, but not in the way you thought you would. Steam clouded around the door as he exited the bathroom, a towel was wrapped around his hips, orange pubic hair peeking out from it. His bare chest was covered in scarring, some old and healed, some visibly fresh. His skin was still moist with bathwater, his hair clinging to his face and dripping more down on him. He looked like a piece of art, a statue standing at the end of the hall, toweling his hair with his eyes closed. But then they opened.

You tried to turn on your heels and walk away before he spotted you gawking at him, but quick reflexes were expected of a harbinger. He saw you before you could even manage to take one step back.

“Oi! I was looking for you!” He called, stopping you in your tracks. You did everything in your power to avoid looking at him. That toned, firm body of his was practically begging you to gaze upon it.

“Please find me again when you're more decent, Lord Childe,”

He immediately recognized the forced stiffness of your words and scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his features, “Since when do you refer to me as Lord, huh?” he was still smiling. Despite his undress, he wasn't the least bit shy.

Your mind shifted to your husband. Unwilling of a bride as you might have been, he made sure you were fully committed to him. He once commented on how much you smiled at his fellow harbinger and your blood went cold. Of course he noticed. Scaramouche was nonchalant, quietly observing everything around him, but he wasn't stupid. You know better than to think your little crush was well hidden, he was just giving you a warning in advance.

“I think we should start being more professional around each other,” you strained the words out, watching his face fall from his normal smile. It felt painful saying these things to him, but it was better for your safety and his.

“So we're not having our talks anymore?” He whined cutely, even pouting his lips a little, “I was looking forward to telling you about my stay in Mondstadt,” it was as if he knew exactly how to hold your attention. Lingering on every single syllable to make sure you knew he was speaking of your home, convincing your already weak will to falter, “and the wine I brought with me.” If he had you on his hook by mentioning Mondstadt, then the notion that he'd brought wine with you was all he needed to reel you in.

Hailing from the city of freedom, you were no stranger to a good drink. You remembered your first glass better than you remembered most things in your first kiss. Your first drink was like a rite of passage for Mondstadt and typically, the first liquor you tasted, became your vice. You were no different than your mother or your grandmother, the drink handed down from generation to generation, and your fondness was felt for dandelion wine. A sweet delicacy only found in the city of freedom, an unassuming drink that'd knock you flat on your ass if you didn't take it seriously enough.

But Scaramouche wasn't a fan of sweet things. He wasn't a fan of much, seeing as very little could even get a smile from him, but he had a special hatred in his heart for anything sugary. His taste leaned more towards the bitter, which was like hell for you.

Sake was never your drink of choice. There was plenty of it in Mondstadt, if there was one thing that your city could do right, it was import drinks from all over Teyvat. But just because it was there, didn't mean you ever drank it. Sake was a drink that tasted wrong to you. The harsh, bitter flavor left a terrible feeling inside your mouth that wouldn't leave no matter how much you tried. So of course, it was the favorite of Scaramouche. The disgusting taste matched his disgusting personality. And when you were permitted to drink, which was rare, you were given sake.

“Dandelion?” You questioned hopefully.

“Dandelion,” he affirmed. He was still using his hands to hold his towels, instead using his head to gesture to his room door, telling you to follow him inside. And you did.

You were tense as you sat down on his bed. Tense when you were handed a cup and told to hold it while you waited for him. Tense as he stepped into his closet to dress himself, still coming out in only pants, but no shirt, telling you that his hair was still wet to wear one. But all that tension melted away when he pulled that familiar green bottle from his bag, pouring you a glass of that rich, yellow wine.

The first sip took you back to your family's home. To a festival in Mondstadt, which was just one of the city's many excuses to drink more. The second took you back to a bar you favored, drinking competitions were held through the night, you always won. There was a part of you that just wanted to down the whole glass, drink it all as you'd done before and request another glass before that sweet taste ever left your tongue. But you saw that he'd only brought one bottle, you had to savor this glass.

“It's yours, if you want it,” Childe spoke softly while holding the wine up, he hadn't even poured himself a singular glass of it, “You just have to do one thing for me.”

Big, doe eyes looked up at him as you practically pleaded with him, “What?”

“Tell me how you really feel about me,”

He could've asked you to do a handstand on the roof of the house during a thunderstorm and that would've been much easier. For so long, your feelings for Childe were just thoughts. You could push them to the back of your mind and pretend they didn't exist. If they weren't real, your husband wouldn't hurt you. He wouldn't punish you. And knowing Scara's jealousy, if he knew you had feelings for another and not him, no one would be safe.

“I won't tell,” he spoke again, a gentle hand coming down and stroking his cheek. His fingers were still warm from his bath, still slightly damp to the touch, the way they cling to your face was assuring.

“I'm married,” you said, “Not just to anyone, but your superior. He's nobody that we should be toying with like this.”

“Who says I'm ‘toying’ with anyone? I wouldn't be asking if I didn't have feelings for you as well,”

Your quick beating heart stilled in your chest for a moment, you lingered on every word. Did you make it up? Did he really say what you thought he did? Silence fell over the room as you contemplated what he said. If he liked you as well, he never showed it. Yet, he'd have no way to. Scaramouche seemed to be around every corner.

“I…like you,” saying the words solidified it. His hair, his smile, his voice, even the way he smelled, you liked it all.

You liked him so much you let him place the bottle of wine in your hands. You let him lean over and place a hand on your shoulder, so close to your face his still dripping hair was wetting your forehead. You let his nose brush against yours, you let him sigh against your lips, you let him close the distance between the two of you and sink into a kiss.

Your mind was a blank, empty room as you kissed Childe. You really kissed him. Kisses with Scaramouche felt like he was trying to swallow you whole, trying to own you, not cherish you. But Childe's admittedly cold, chapped lips were caressing yours. His hand that managed to slither around your waist, holding you like he didn't want to let you go, his other hand squeezing your chest. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating. If he could, you wanted his to be beating the same way.

A bell made you break away from the kiss with a gasp like you were about to be killed. Because you were. That wasn't just any bell. It was the chime of the bell above the main door. The one that signified that it was opening. The one that meant Scaramouche was home.

Biting back the urge to throw up, you tossed the wine on his bed and raced from the room. You didn't want to look back at Childe once. Not after the mistake you'd made with him. Lust was clouding your mind, it had to be keeping you from thinking properly. That was the only excuse you could make while you cursed yourself mentally, simultaneously begging that he wasn't aware of what you'd done.

At the foot of the stairs, his large hat still on his head and a grimace on his face, was Scaramouche. His indigo eyes looked you up and down, noticing the way you trembled and panted like you’d run a marathon.

“Where were you?” He asked, tossing his hat to the side. It fell to the floor with a clatter and was easily ignored by him, “Have you forgotten your duties? You know when I'm supposed to be home.”

“I apologize, my lord!” You tried to stop your voice from shaking.

“Well?”

You looked at him dumbfounded as he walked past you up the stairs.

“Aren't you going to tell me why you were late and huffing like a fool at that?”

“I fell asleep, my lord. And once I noticed I was behind, I raced to try to meet you at the door, but it appears I was too late,”

A mere hum from him was your response. Which was good enough, it meant he had nothing harsh to say. As the two of you entered the privacy of your room together, you felt him hug you from behind. Little did he touch you meaninglessly, which meant he wanted to go farther, his soft lips kissing the back of your neck told you enough.

“I'm only so hard on you because I care about you,” he whispered into your ear. Him being sweet you felt worse knowing what you did with Childe just a few short moments earlier.

But still, you ended up lying back on the bed, naked and nestled in the mountain of pillows. Scaramouche thrusting into your hole above you, eyes clenched shut in pleasure. He was fucking you into a mating press, your knees against your chest, causing you to only take shallow breaths. It was a personal favorite of his since it meant he could sink every inch of his cock into you, while still watching your face.

You kept silent as he fucked you, only letting out a few gasps or whines as he hit particularly sensitive spots inside you or thrusted too deep. You didn't enjoy sex with him, it was always something you didn't want, and he wasn't going to make you pretend. Scaramouche was going to do it with you regardless, it was about his own pleasure.

During the act you'd normally be lost in your own world, trying to pay attention to anything, but the way he was rutting his hips into you, it made the time go by quicker. The closet, the clock on the way, the way the bed squeaked, the crack in the door. The crack in the door where Childe stood, watching in the darkness of the hallway.

It took you a moment to realize what you were seeing and you had to convince yourself still that you weren't imagining it. Orange hair, deep, blue eyes, shirtless and strangely with a tent growing in his pants. Childe stood in the doorway watching, out of view of Scaramouche who either has his eyes closed or stayed focusing on your face.

You went to cover yourself, but realized that that would draw your husband's attention to the other man. You couldn't say anything, not without fear of Childe getting hurt in the process. You felt scared, neverous, a little violated, but when you saw him slide a large hand down and palm his growing length through the fabric of his pants, you began to feel almost aroused.

Sick. Sick in the head, you called yourself mentally as your eyes stayed focused on the man watching from the hallway. But you still placed your hands on your breasts, tweaking your nipples and mewling out softly. You didn't know what came over you to make you do such a thing, but knowing that Childe could see you made you want to do more than just lie there. Scaramouche was immediately surprised by you making any noise of pleasure at all and quickened his already brutal pace. But it felt good for once. It felt nice. You could feel yourself growing wetter, your cunt finally sucking him in and welcoming him.

“You're rather receptive tonight,” he grunted out with a smirk and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his confidence.

“I…I suppose it feels better than usual, my lord,” you locked eyes with him, until he clenched his shut from the pleasure once more. Then you looked back at Childe. He'd long since freed his cock from his pants, stroking his long thick length. It was big. That was all you could think as you watched him, how you wished that it was his big cock inside of you, but you could pretend. Pretend that it was him on top of you instead of your husband.

Mewling and moaning louder than you ever had before, making noises you didn't even know you could, your legs were pressed harder against your chest, opening yourself up for him to go even deeper. You were dripping at this point, your wetness sliding down to your ass. But Childe was dripping as well. His cock was leaking precum, coating his hand in a lube that he was using to stroke himself at the same pace that Scara was going inside you.

“Ah! Yes….yes! Fuck me harder!” You'd never begged for more like this before, but who was he to question it, he'd never know that your cries were for another. He was enjoying how wet you felt around him, how you were moving your hips to match his pace inside you. He merely panted and did as he was told, his cock thrusting into you in deep, long, hard, strokes, each one having you see stars.

“I'm finishing inside, my love,” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your lips. You nodded, locking your legs around his hips. A move you'd never done in all the times he'd slept with you and something that made him gasp out in pleasure.

It only took a few more thrusts before he held his cock balls deep inside you, you could feel the length twitching as he filled you with seed. Each shot of his hot ejaculate hitting your walls and making your whimper. Light kisses were pressed against your forehead as the two of you were locked together. His cum and your honeyed wetness dripping from your hole.

When he pulled out, you kept your legs up a little longer, making sure Ajax saw every drop of his cum dripping from you. Your still needy twitching cunt, filled with a load, your delicate fingers rubbing your clit in slow circles while he watched. Your soft gasps and pants, trying not to draw Scara's attention while he was cleaning himself up in the connected bathroom. Both of you, putting on a show for each other. Him stroking his length from the base to the tip slowly, extenuating every inch and you dipping your fingers into your filled hole.

He continued jerking his cock while he watched you, nothing was said or spoken between you two, but your eyes conversated enough. This was pure desire. It was need. And when you came, it was for him. Your hips stuttered and bucked off the bed, toes curling almost painfully.

Childe came with you. Watching you finish while looking at him was more than enough. His hand was pressed against the door, scratching at the wood, begging to be let in so he could finish inside you as well, like he knew you wanted him to. But he didn't. His cock sprayed rope after rope of cum onto the floor of the hallway in front of him. His toned chest heaving as he watched himself make this mess.

You longed to lick it up, not just the cum, but his still aching cock. You wanted to clean it with your mouth, to suck it the way your husband made you. You knew he wanted more. But Scaramouche was already out of the bathroom, a towel in hand. He began cleaning you up between your legs, eyes seeming a little softer than normal while he did. A look that wasn't normal for him.

“You did well tonight,” he praised you. Fond words you'd never heard from him before, but likely because he had no idea why you were putting on such a show.

“Thank you, my lord,” you replied sheepishly, looking back up to the crack in the doorway, Childe was gone. It was better this way though. Better that he leave now than accidentally get the attention of your husband.

“I'll think of a reward for you tomorrow, but rest for now,” the candles were blown out and he laid next to you. A protective arm was wrapped around your waist as you lay on your back, trying to regulate your heartbeat.

Realization hit you like a truck, forming a sickening pit in your stomach. It was only now that you'd realized what you'd done and fear and worry were taking over. If Scara were to find out, he'd kill you. He'd do worse than kill you you supposed, ending your life would be much too easy

And you could only imagine what'd happen to Childe next.

You lay on your back in that inky black, pitch darkness, eyes trying to adjust to the light. You were feeling regretful, but you'd also never felt such a thrill in your entire life. Not since you got married.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

If You Want Me

Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1,881

Warnings: lots of crying. (y/n)’s not the sharpest tool.

[Established Relationship AU] You find a strange box in your boyfriend’s drawer and it brings forth a life-changing event.

You were buzzing with unburnt energy, itching for something – anything – to do.

It was just one of those days where you couldn’t sit still. It wasn’t that you hadn’t already done much: the standard 8-hour work day was already finished and you still felt like you needed to be useful. There was so much to do and you were excited to get to it.

It was a blur of productivity. The speakers filled the apartment with the melodies of a playlist Jihoon had once made for you (you had lost track of what he made the playlist for; he had simply made you so many) as you practically waltzed around, finishing chore after chore at near magical speeds: the dishes, the laundry, the windows, the curtains. You watered the plants and gave their big green leaves a good wipe-down.

Around 11 pm, a text chimed on your phone. It was Jihoon, a heart emoji proudly on display by his contact name. 

“Want anything to eat?” he asked, ever so thoughtful – or perhaps trying to avoid the awkwardness of eating alone.

You gladly replied to him, practically begging for your favourite noodle dish, and returned to organising your wardrobe. Even that task was done soon and you were once again left with a strange itch to just do something else. Literally any chore. But you had done them all already.

Well. Except Jihoon’s side of the wardrobe. 

The half-wrinkled black and white t-shirts on the shelves and a random pair of sandals shoved in there was an eyesore compared to your perfectly folded blouses. He wasn’t the messiest person you had met, but he rarely had time to actually keep his closet as neat as he or you would’ve liked.

Usually you left his side for him to deal with, but – you thought to yourself – there’s no harm in helping out.

You folded his shirts properly, throwing a few stained ones to the laundry bin. You organised his jackets and sweaters by colour. You began organising his underwear drawer – the messiest of them all – when you found something curious. 

It was a box. A very small one, covered in a velvety material. You thought, perhaps in a tired daze, it looked like something a piece of jewellery might come in. Earrings? Or a ring perhaps? 

But why would he keep his rings in a box? He had a perfectly good jewellery tray on the nightstand – one you had handmade for him in a pottery class on a double date night. And the box couldn’t have been for you either – you rarely wore rings or jewellery of any kind and he knew that.

So what was in this box?

You tried so hard to fight the curiosity and just leave it be. You loved and trusted your boyfriend. You knew he wouldn’t hide things from you. Maybe it was a gift from someone. Maybe the box was empty and he had simply forgotten to throw it out.

But you had come this far and you were getting tired and you just had to find out. One little peek wouldn’t hurt, right? It surely couldn’t.

Against the warnings of your last rational braincells, you opened the box. Your jaw dropped in surprise. 

It was, indeed, a ring. A pretty one at that. With an intricate golden band and a heart-shaped ruby in the middle. You thought to yourself that even you wouldn’t mind wearing something as beautiful as this.

But it wasn’t your ring. And, frankly, you wondered if it was really his either. Suspicions and curiosity grew and when you snapped back to reality you had already sent a photo to your friends’ chat, asking what they thought it was.

The answer was immediate and loud: “??? THAT’S CLEARLY AN ENGAGEMENT RING, YOU IDIOT?!”

Your heart dropped. Your body felt hot all over. You worried you might faint from shock. 

Could it be? Was this really what they thought it was? Had you just accidentally ruined your boyfriend’s plans to propose? 

And even more importantly – you thought, brain fully going into overdrive now, not even caring that the box sharply closed on your thumb as you clutched it to your chest and sunk to sit on the floor, tears burning in your eyes –, your boyfriend was going to propose? He actually wanted to marry you? It wasn’t just a tired fantasy he joked about with you late at night, giggling and joking about growing old together. He had bought a ring – an engagement ring.

Overwhelmed by your joyous feelings and the guilt of ruining what was clearly meant to be a surprise, you began to cry. Tears blurred your vision, mascara you should’ve washed off hours ago was smudging off your lashes, snot ran down your nose – you were certain you looked absolutely horrendous but you had bigger things to worry about for now.

Practically sobbing, you didn’t hear the front door opening and closing or Jihoon calling out to you from the front door, his melodious voice so full of love as he greeted you. You didn’t notice the rustling of the takeout bag or tired footsteps echoing in the apartment, nearing your location.

He walked into the bedroom, expecting to find you soundly asleep or maybe scrolling on Tiktok, ready to show him some nonsensical meme again. Even if he made fun of you for showing them to him, he greatly cherished the fact that your first thought was to share these things with him. 

Instead he found you curled up in front of the closet, sobbing with a velvet box in hand. He froze. "Fuck."

Realising he’d come home, you scrambled to put the box back where you had found it and wiped your tears and runny mascara and apologised and hid your face and said, "Sorry. Don’t look at me. I’m a mess."

Jihoon only chuckled somewhat uneasily and slowly came closer, reaching out a hand to place it onto your shoulder before pulling you into a gentle hug. It was comforting. He was always comforting. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked as if he wasn’t fully aware already.

"I–"

"You found the ring, right?"

"How'd you know?" you worried, eyes wide. Was he upset with you? Was he disappointed? Angry? Sad? You couldn’t live with yourself if you had made him feel bad when he had put so much thought into a future with you.

"I saw you put it away,” he pointed out so calmly that it almost lulled you into a false sense of serenity.

"Oh. That was something else,” you lied horribly. You were never a great liar, at least not to him. “What ring? I don’t know about any ring–"

"I think I know what the box of the ring I had made for you looks like, baby," he told you with a slight laugh before reaching into the drawer with his free hand and taking out the very box. Hesitating for just a moment, he then held it out for you, nodding for you to take it.

With shaking hands, you did as told. "It's for me?"

"If you want it," he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but his bright red ears and oddly glimmering eyes say he's about five seconds away from a mental breakdown of his own. He coughed to clear his throat before adding, "If you want me."

"What?"

"I– This wasn't how I planned this but," Jihoon ran a hand through his hair, “but I guess the cat's out of the bag.”

He let out a nervous laugh – the one he always did when Soonyoung or Jeonghan convinced him to do something dumb or embarrassing – before dropping to one knee right there, in front of the closet, in front of you – his girlfriend who he thought looked like a sad panda in the best way possible. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath as you waited, holding your own breath. When he spoke again, his voice was hushed and gentle, as if he feared speaking any louder would give away how nervous he was feeling. 

“I know this is kind of sudden and you probably weren’t expecting it,” he started, voice wavering, “but I feel like I’ll go crazy if I avoid my feelings for much longer. When I first met you, I knew I’d want you in my life for a long time – whether as a friend or as something more I didn’t know yet.

“But now I know,” Jihoon had begun crying, wiping his tears between anxious giggles when he saw your tear-stained but bright smile – an encouragement –, “I want you as my home, as my everything, as my wife. I’d sooner go insane than live a single day without calling you mine and myself yours. So,” he took the ring in one hand and your hand in his other, “I'm asking you to make me the happiest man alive and accept this ring and marry me. Will you have me?"

There was not a single doubt or even an echo of one in your mind. 

“Yes. Yes!” 

Nodding rapidly, almost frantically even, you semi-patiently watched him smile the brightest you had seen him do in weeks and gently place the ring around your finger. Before he could even admire the jewellery on your hand, your arms were wrapped around him, lips reaching for his to kiss him as flustered and silly as he had made you with his words. 

“I love you,” you heard him whisper against your lips as he pulled you closer until there wasn’t even a molecule of air between the two of you.

You hummed and pulled back just enough to whisper back, “I love you too, future husband.”

He groaned at the words, a dumb grin on his face. “I can’t wait to marry you, seriously.”

“There’s a chapel down the street,” you half-joked (half- because you were so overcome with love for him that you wouldn’t have even mildly protested if he had gone along with the joke and made it a reality).

To your amusement, he was the one to protest, a grumpy frown taking over his previously bright and awestruck face. “I had an entire picnic planned with fairy lights and cake and live music and I even had Mingyu convinced to take photos for us, and instead  I ended up proposing to you,” he glanced around the room almost judgmentally, “crying in front of the closet in our apartment, with my underwear drawer open.” He forcefully shut the offending drawer, earning a chuckle from you, before letting out a firm loud hum of protest and pulling you back into a tight hug. “I’m not letting the same happen to our wedding. You deserve the world and I’ll give it to you.”

“... So we’re not eloping then?”

“Not a chance,” he insisted, face scrunching up as if the very idea was offensive, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We’re already missing out on engagement photos. Imagine how upset our moms will be if they don’t even get wedding photos.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you chuckled, pausing before adding on, “future husband.”

He tensed for a moment. Then he spoke, “So about that chapel – do you think they take last minute walk-ins, or…?”