#but i spent so much fucking time doing the rendering for this image that i decided to forgo the sequel. sorry + not sorry.

[pasta-pardner]

sixguns & innuendo

#mantimer #mancomer #tmwnn #douglas mortimer #manco #dollars trilogy #artner #theyre fully clothed but im adding the mature community label bc the phallic innuendo is . quite overt. #hhhhhh i've been thinking a lot lately about gun fetishism in westerns. #the scenes in fafdm where manco and mortimer handle each other's weapons already contain fair amounts of subtext #but i thought.. why not increase the homoeroticism ! #sixguns are already practically treated as extensions of their gunslingers. why not let manco give mortimer's buntline a lil kiss? ;0 #this was originally gonna be a two-part set with a companion image of mortimer returning the favor on manco's colt #(bc. u know. ''equal partnership'' and all that) #but i spent so much fucking time doing the rendering for this image that i decided to forgo the sequel. sorry + not sorry. #but !!! wow im so proud of the shading on this one. it took me an insane amount of time. please clap. #i might make a separate post later about western genre theory and cowboy gun eroticism but for now.... yehaw for phallic imagery ! #for a few dollars more (1965) #westerns #🤠 #🍝 #art #pardner posts

[ollypopwrites]

Our Sweet Remedy

Gale x Fem!Tav [AFAB, she/her]

Rating: Explicit [18+ MDNI]

Word count: 2.8k

Request: 69 or DP with Gale by anon!

Warnings: Smut (oral [f and m receiving, face fucking, cum swallowing], Gale’s projection double participates [PiV], double penetration, fingering), dirty talk, Dom!Gale (and he is condescending lmao, but no degradation), after care, safe and consensual check ins. Changing POV (Tav then Gale).

Notes: there is so little plot here I don’t know what to say. No beta reader, only Ao can judge me. Also idk if it’s mirror image Gale uses for his projection? Sorry if that that is not lore accurate.

My Ao3

Tav felt she may have to sit down and chat with Gale about his inability to just lay back and receive every once in a while.

It was post-exam season, and her overachieving fiance, had just spent many days cooped up in the study grading and reading final assignments. But it was finally over and they were celebrating the completion of his first full term as a professor at Blackstaff. A night out so neither of them had to cook and a bottle of wine to end the evening.

With Gale wrapped up in his work, it had been up to Tav to arrange everything. Her plans for the night had so far gone exactly as they ought to, they made it to their reservation for dinner, the walk to and from the tower had been exactly on time and when they got through the door he was amenable to being ordered upstairs.

This was where the plan went awry. She had meant to get on her knees, and give him some well-deserved admiration. Gale, however, after what felt like weeks of being drowned in work and only seeing glimpses of his betrothed was feeling clingy and needy.

Instead of having his cock in her mouth from her knees, she was draped alongside him on the bed. His hands roamed over her sides, taking in each curve, grabbing onto flesh when she did something he particularly liked. The groans and murmured praises spurred her on, happy to be able to please him and offer him some reprieve.

His fingers trailed her thighs, nudging them apart. She allowed it, for the moment, a pleased yet shocked squeal leaving her when he ran through the seam of her, dipping his fingers inside of her when he found her wet.

She pulled off him to lift her head, and remind him she was doing something for him for once when she caught him bringing his fingers into his mouth. Rendered momentarily speechless, body pulsing with a renewed need, Tav licked her lips.

“Humor me?” He asked.

“This — hey!” She felt him grabbing her thighs, attempting to pull her onto his body. “Gale, tonight is supposed to be about you.”

“Believe me, my love,” he said, not giving up his intent so Tav had to acquiesce, “this is for me.”

Another pulse of excitement coursed through her. Not meaning to be outdone, Tav at least acknowledged that this gave her better access to his cock. Her body now settled over his, with her thighs bracketing his sides as he leaned against the headboard with her presented for him as he grabbed at her ass. She worked him into her mouth with renewed vigor, not letting up even when he began his usual maddening work on her with his tongue.

For a while she was too lost to the sensation of him groaning above her to truly acknowledge how worked up she was getting. When she took him further into her mouth, as far as she could, he sucked hard on her clit with a moan and she felt her entire body go rigid.

There was something incredibly enticing about feeling so much pleasure while he was buried in her throat. She pulled up for air and not one to be outdone, Gale went in more fervently.

She was quickly rising to her climax, and she was losing focus. Pumping him in her hand with his head in her mouth, she kept being distracted by the sensations.

“You’re distracting me,” she whined.

No response, just more incessant working of her that made her want to give up entirely on the task at hand and languish in his talents.

Her own hands wrapped around his hips, to grab at his ass and pull him further into her mouth so he would get the message. He hesitated, gently thrust and when she moaned he allowed himself shallow jerky movements. A half-formed groan escaped him and his grip grew tighter on her thighs.

Tav’s mind went blissfully blank, truly degenerate moans came out around the slight muffle of him thrusting in and out of her mouth and then something snapped.

It was hard to tell if Gale gave the hard thrust into her throat or if she pushed herself down onto him, but it hardly mattered. Mouth full of him, her toes curled, her legs shook and her hips had to be held firmly to keep from jolting and moving from the sensation of his mouth.

After it passed she took him out of her mouth to laugh, a bit delirious at what had just happened.

“Alright, my love?”

He sounded strained, and she could see why. His cock was rigid, pulsing slightly and she knew he was close. She hummed an affirmative and without distraction went back to work on rewarding her wizard for a successful first term not thinking much more of the turn of events.

Gale couldn’t forget it.

Perhaps it was that he had not considered how much time he was buried in work and now being able to reemerge he found himself constantly thinking about Tav’s reaction the other night. They went from enjoying each other's company as often as possible to intermittently due to his new work schedule to not at all during the exam season.

But regardless of it being a matter of being pent up or not. He was catching himself thinking about her reaction in the middle of benign conversations, eyes drifting to her mouth and wondering just what her expression had been when she came with his cock in her throat.

Blindly feeling it had been near enough to throw him over the edge. He had to see it.

They had discussed trying things with his ability to conjure a mostly tangible mirror image before. The idea had come to him after the topic of Halsin wanting to be an add on to their partnership while on the road had come up. It had been born of insecurity, a need to be more in order to keep her by his side , but after his concerns were put to rest the idea remained.

It remained on a loop, actually. The idea of filling her so completely that all she could feel was him.

When she climbed in his lap in the study a couple days later, as eager to make up for their time apart as he was, he decided he had to see if he could bring the fantasy to life.

Tav gasped when she felt the somewhat cool touch of the mirror image’s hand on her back. She looked over her shoulder, and the projection smiled at her. Naked and ready already, but not making any other move to touch Tav.

“Hello there,” she said and then turned back to Gale. “We finally giving this a go?”

“Only if you want to,” he said, cupping her face. “Say the word and he will be gone.”

Tav kissed him, and then bit her lip with a cheeky smile. “How do you two want me?”

Gale felt a blazing trail of excitement crawl up his spine, blood rushing. “Naked. On your hand and knees.” He added a gentlemanly, “please,” for good measure.

“Yes, saer,” she teased and crawled out of his lap to strip herself of her clothes and do as she was asked.

For a while he just watched as she took in the sensations of the spectral presence lavishing her in attention. There was a thrill in being able to see his hands grab at the flesh of her ass, to see himself squeeze her thighs and generally admire her body from his seat on the settee. A unique pleasure in watching but still knowing it was all him that made her whine impatiently, and when he allowed the projection to finally touch her she eased into it.

“How does it feel, my love?”

The projection slid fingers through her folds, not quite giving her clit the attention it needed.

“Ever the scholar,” she mused and then moaned as a spectral finger circled her entrance. “Feels good, a bit like the mage hand, honestly.”

Gale hummed.

“Off,” she half demanded tugging down at the hem of his shirt.

“Always so impatient,” he chuckled, removing his shirt anyway.

“And you’re always a tease,” she shot back. One of her hands came up to tug at his waistband this time. “These next.”

“Demanding, as well,” he replied, yet he moved to acquiesce. He sat down in front of her, still on the settee while his mirror image continued to rub and tease, purposely not touching where she truly wanted him to. His hand came to her cheek, “I’d very much like to preoccupy your mouth with something besides bossing me around. How do you tell me to stop?”

“Two taps,” she demonstrated on his thigh for good measure.

There was a challenge in her eyes, one that spurred him on. The urge to take very deep despite his constant reign on himself. Perhaps a hold over from his time dealing with the orb, but if there was one thing Tav was good at it was tempting him.

He pushed his thumb into her mouth, and she sucked on it before opening her mouth to make a show of running her tongue along the pad of his finger.

“The other night,” he said, eyebrows furrowing in sharp focus at the point where his finger met her tongue, “you took me so deeply when you came. Did you like it?”

She hummed an affirmative, her mouth coming off his hand to say, “I loved it.” Her hand reached for the base of his cock, bringing it towards her mouth.

He moved his hand into her hair, gripping tight enough to keep her head from moving any further. Behind her his double stopped immediately. A frozen moment of disbelief crossed over her face.

“Ask me.”

She breathed a half laugh, but the way she licked her lips betrayed her interest in his demand.

“May I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Ask me, nicely.”

A shudder overtook her. “Please, Gale, can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“You may,” he replied with a smile, hand coming out of her hair to allow her to move.

The first lick was teasing, but with every attention she paid to him the projection behind her rewarded her anew. Gale took the time to sit back and enjoy, her clever mouth working him at her own leisure and each soft noise of pleasure while she did made his jaw clench.

When the presence behind her slipped two fingers inside of her, he felt her stiffen and her mouth froze on him. She tried to get back to her task but each stroke of the fingers inside of her seemed to draw her away until she was just sitting there moaning with his cock in her mouth.

“That’s it,” Gale muttered. “Hold me in your mouth, my love, can you do that?”

A gentle nod was her reply and the projection behind her went to work. Gale’s breathing picked up, self-control hanging on by a fraying thread as he simply watched. Pre-cum dribbled out of him and the resulting squeal she gave before running her tongue over the tip of him had him questioning why he was waiting.

Tav’s first orgasm approached, and he watched with fond understanding of exactly how it would go. The rush of sudden impatience as her hips thrust back onto the fingers inside of her, the little noises she would make and the crinkled brow of focus as she let herself hone in on the rising sensation. Beautiful as usual.

“Gale,” she breathed, “I’m going to —“

“Ask.”

Her eyes shot open, meeting his, a new sort of awe struck intrigue perhaps at the commanding tone. “Please,” she said, tongue laving over the tip of him, “please let me come.”

“Open for me,” he said, hand coming back into her hair. When she did as he asked he gently guided her back onto him, “hold me here. Keep me right here while you fall apart.”

The projection was unrelenting, and Gale could hardly keep his hips steady with each little whine that came from Tav’s lips. Enraptured by the view, he was lost when her jaw went a bit slack, tongue pressed against the head of his cock in a last attempt to pleasure him as she tipped over the edge.

The final thread of self-control frayed; the projection of himself quickly readjusted so that the same time Gale thrust into her mouth its cock was also sinking into her heat.

Tav squealed in surprise around both intrusions, and Gale grit his teeth to stave off further thrusting in order to give her the chance to tap out. His lovely Tav simply looked up at him, corners of her lips turned up in a challenging smile even with her mouth full.

The desire to make her as mindless as he felt overtook and in unison both cocks began to thrust. Praise was all he could find himself to speak.

“Yes, my love, yes,” he whispered, “look at you, full of me.” He sucked in a sharp breath when she whined, the sensation causing a sweet vibration. “So beautiful, so good,” he breathed, “with such an eager mouth — and a dripping cunt for me.”

Her eyes blinked, slightly watery with a sharper thrust that he felt gag her slightly. But yet unwaveringly full of awe, full of admiration and devotion. Proof she was loving every second of this as much as him.

The projection pressed over her back, arm coming around to touch her clit in reward. A slightly manic sound left her, desperate and shocked. He knew she was probably still sensitive, he barely gave her time to recover from the last orgasm before he began the double ended onslaught of sensation. Her walls had probably still been fluttering around the slightly spectral intrusion of his double’s cock.

He swallowed hard. He almost wanted to take himself out of her mouth to hear her describe the feeling, but it would be too great a loss he decided. The unending string of muffled moans were enough of an indication for him.

At a particularly harsh thrust from his double he was knocked from her mouth, her head lolling and eyes closing. She was losing her focus.

“Keep my cock in your mouth, Tav,” he commanded, the projection ceasing all movement. Hips and hands stilling mid movement.

“Trying,” she whimpered. “Feels too good —“

Gale tightened the grip in her hair, guiding her back to where he wanted her, his hips thrusting steadily with a groan. “I’ve got you,” he muttered, “stay there.”

The projection started its onslaught again, with renewed gasps and choked off whimpers from Tav starting anew. He was steadily approaching the precipice, but unwilling to venture over until he saw for himself what it looked like to have her truly debauched.

The visage of him behind her was unrelenting, and he could see her beginning to reach that peak. Her eyes gave away the desperation she felt, and when he finally gave her permission he watched first her body begin to slouch unable to keep herself up as her knees slid further apart and her hips twitch.

Tav’s eyes went blissfully blank before they rolled back slightly, his thrusts into her mouth a bit easier as her jaw went slack.

“That's it, Tav,” he breathed. “Gods, you’re perfection.”

Without being able to look away he felt the control finally slip away. His hips thrust up in harsh long strokes that made her gag as he felt himself seize up with the release. It was met with sucking as Tav eased him through it.

Behind her the projection had faded with his lack of concentration. He took a few moments to admire her, lips swollen, glistening with saliva and breathing heavy.

“Come here,” he pulled her up off of the floor, and settled her on his lap. He kissed her sweaty forehead, her cheek and then finally her lips. “Alright?”

She nodded her head.

“I need to hear you say it, Tav.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Let’s stay like this, though, a little longer.”

His hands rubbed over her back, lips pressed to the crown of her head as they caught their breath. The glow of satiation still thrummed through his veins as he focused on the feel of her in his arms. Gratitude bloomed in his chest at her ability to make him feel safe enough to explore his desire to take for once, for trusting him.

“You’re filthy, Gale,” she giggled after a while, still looking a bit dazed.

“You’re one to talk,” he challenged.

“It wasn’t a complaint,” she assured him, letting herself nestle her face into the crook of his neck. “We are definitely doing that again.”

Thank you for reading 💜

#bg3 fanfiction #gale x tav #gale dekarios fanfic #gale dekarios smut #gale dekarios x tav #Olly writes

[strawbubbysugar]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @pillowspace I MADE IT JUST UNDER THE WIRE- ENJOY THIS FRANKENFATE AU BIRTHDAY SNIPPET !!!

(Under readmore!)

“Can I come in yet?” Vale sat against their bedroom door, arms crossed, head back as they stared at the ceiling. It was a particularly sunny, warm day, the sort of day that had fluffy white clouds rolling across the sky, high enough that no shadows were cast. If it were up to them, they would’ve been out in their- .. THE forest, helping Sun look for his crown, as they usually spent their days.

However, today they’d been tasked to stay in their room while their unexpected roommate (well, one of them) worked on something secret. They didn’t have a single clue as to what it could’ve been, though with all the banging sounds and the occasional hushed whisper, they weren’t feeling too optimistic.

“June!” They shouted at the door, shutting their eyes and groaning. “JUNE, I JUST HEARD YOU DROP A FULL BOWL.”

“YOU DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING, YOU’RE IMAGINING THINGS. YOU’RE LITERALLY CRAZY. YOU’RE ACTING CRAZY.” June shouted back, accompanied by the sound of something heavy being dropped back onto the counter.

Vale heard the hushed whispers of Sun, who had asked if he could help- to which June had delightedly agreed that yes, he could! They could vaguely hear June whispering ‘that’s gaslighting, but I’m doing it as a joke so it’s okay. Yeah don’t worry about it big guy.’

They chuckled and rolled their eyes. June was still getting used to this time period, something that still baffled them to no end. There seemed to be plenty of modern conveniences that were so commonplace, so ingrained in daily life, that June barely had the words to describe them.

A machine that washed and dried your clothing for you was simple enough to understand, but a machine that would let you speak to someone far away, that also showed you images of them, as they spoke, as if they were there? That did about a million other things as well, the least of which involving a light brighter than a candle coming from the front of it? The device had been broken upon June’s arrival, and Vale still wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t pulling their leg about it.

They’d had enough of simply sitting there staring at the ceiling, zoning out in between clangs and hushed whispers. They began to stand up, though they had unfortunately begun to do so the moment the door was opened, knocking them forward after wobbling on their feet.

“Oh, shit! Dude, fuck, sorry!” June gripped under their arms, helping them to stand up, much to Vale’s chagrin.

They dusted themselves off, the only real injury sustained being to their ego as June had watched them faceplant into their carpet, ass over teakettle. “You’re oddly light on your feet for someone who never does put their laces.”

June snorted, grinning their usual lopsided, cheeky smile. “And you’re oddly easy to push over with a door. Were you just sitting there listening??”

“No, I was sitting there awaiting permission to enter the rest of MY house.” They shot back, though their annoyance was undercut by the clear tone of amusement in their voice. “What were you two doing out there?”

“Jeez dude I woulda left you, like, a book or a flower to look at if I’d known you were just gonna sit there.”

“What did you think I’d do??”

June paused for a moment, frozen as they did what June had once called ‘loading’, while they registered what Vale had asked and formulated a response.

“Uh.” They smiled, though a bit more sheepishly now. “Man, I dunno! I thought you’d knit or something!”

“Knit??”

“Something old-timey, yeah!”

“You don’t have knitting in your time???”

“Wh- yeah, we do, but it’s like.. a grandma hobby. I think it’s coming back into fashion though.”

Vale shook their head, once again rendered speechless by June’s nonsense.

“No, June, I didn’t knit. Can I leave the room?? I’d like some fresh air.”

June quickly blocked their way, arms spread out to the sides. Unfortunately for Vale, they did have the height advantage.

“Wait! Wait wait wait. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Ready to enter my own house??” They scrunched up their nose, eyes squinted in confusion as they placed their hands on their friend’s stomach, pushing them forward.

June didn’t budge, fingers hooked on the doorway to keep steady. “Are you ready for your SURPRISE!” He laughed. “Stop. I’m ticklish.”

Vale could practically hear the sound of Sun registering that information and saving it for later use, even from where he presumably was in the kitchen. Vale cracked a smile and shook their head. “Yes, I’m ready to both see my surprise, and clean up whatever mess you two made.”

“Oh come on, you know Sun was already all over that. I’ve never seen a dude more excited to wash a dish in my life.”

Vale chuckled at the idea. Taking favours from the gods certainly wasn’t something they’d ever do, not in a million years. However, June seemed more than happy to take whatever the god offered. It was more than once Vale had to stop them from agreeing to receive ridiculous, extravagant things in exchange for the two human’s assistance- worried that it would count as them taking the favour as well. However, once Sun had promised to clarify when something was a friendly gesture and when something was a godly boon, June had been allowed to accept as much help as they’d like.

Though Vale still wouldn’t be partaking. Just in case.

June let them through under their arm, grinning with delight and waving their hands in clenched fists at their sides. They’d called it ‘stimming’, once. Vale had tried it and had to admit that it felt nice to get that energy out, but found they preferred to keep their limbs under control. They glanced back to them with furrowed brows, beginning to grow nervous about the supposed surprise. It couldn’t possibly be.. no. It couldn’t. They hadn’t told a soul.

Stepping around the corner, they were greeted by their divine housemate, as he held out his hands in greeting.

“SURPRISE!” He beamed, flourishing his hands as small colourful sparks rained down from his fingers.

In front of him was a cake, lopsided and frosted in a manner that appeared not too dissimilar to the way Vale imagined a raccoon would frost a cake. Dollops of icing littered the edges in what seemed to have started as a pattern, but soon collapsed into complete chaos. The colour was somewhere between grey and blue, a result likely to be due to the berries used that also acted as decoration on the top, dotting their own pieces of frosting. Coming closer, they saw the elegant cursive handwriting, as well as the smeared icing hastily scraped off from previous attempts that had been deemed less than perfect.

Happy Birthday Friend!

Vale blinked several times in surprise, glancing between Sun, who was still beaming, and the cake. “I .. I didn’t tell either of you that it was my birthday, how did you ..”

“I’m the god of day!” Sun piped up. “And it is a birthDAY! Stands to reason that I would know each of them by heart!”

“Oh, I told Sun that if he told me when your birthday was, I’d take his favours and ask him to make dragons real.” June smiled, leaning their hands against the counter. Sun looked to them, eyebrow raised in confusion.

June quickly waved their hands at Vale when they saw the immediate flush of panic on their face, laughing worriedly. “WHOA WHOA IT WAS A GOOF ITS OKAY-“ their hands met Vale’s shoulders, steading them.

“Not funny-“ Vale groaned, head lolling back. “Gods, I felt my heart touch my feet.”

June chuckled, patting their head and mussing up their hair the second they were sure they had a solid footing once again. “Aw cmon, it was a little funny. I asked the baker in town, after he mentioned next week being special last week when we visited.”

“I should really ask him not to give away secrets to strangely dressed newcomers.” Vale muttered, glancing over their two odd companions. They looked over the cake and felt a fondness settle over them like a warm blanket.

These two had really put in far more effort into this cake than necessary. They’d tried so hard on it, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was clearly a labour of love. The sort that sent warm fuzzies to Vale’s cheeks at the thought that their friends would do this for them.

“.. but thank you. Truly. It looks .. delicious.” They smiled warmly at the both of them, though they stumbled over the last word. Delicious wasn’t the first one they’d thought of.

They were surprised once again as they were pulled into a large, warm hug by June, soon followed by a Sun who had spent a good majority of the morning cooling himself down for this. He easily wrapped his arms around the two mortals and gave a gentle squeeze, earning an ‘eep!’ From Vale, and a laugh from June.

Eating the cake would be its own challenge later, but for now, the hug was its own gift, and one welcomed with open arms as Vale melted into their friend’s arms, closing their eyes and basking in the warmth.

#frankenfate #writing #<tagged ig??? I don’t usually post it directly onto tumblr hsfhs #fwiends #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

[gabessquishytum]

I think you were sent an ask at some point about Dreamling as pool players (or were you ?? I might have hallucinated that) ... So, regular humans Dream and Hob being excellent pool players individually, and by chance one day finding themselves playing together (among a party of other, less skilled men of course). They both are very competitive, and get increasingly worked up about how close the score is between them and each think of himself as a genius in the field (each in their own way of course, Hob is convinced he has the kind of luck that nobody can beat, while Dream is arrogant and looks down on every other player) so they can't comprehend how they haven't manage to take the upper hand. It ends in a tie (can a pool game end in tie ? I have no idea ah ah), and everyone else leaves because 1) the sexual tension is palpable and 2) more than one game soon becomes despicable with the size of each's ego.

So Hob can finally act on what he's been dying to do the whole time, which is pull Dream's trousers down and bend him over the pool table and bring one of his legs up (you know, the kind of position pool players get in when they want to be precise where they're practically laying on their belly on the table) so his pert ass is on display. And then. It turns out Dream's hole is stretched open and glistening with lube, because he has a ritual of fucking himself in the ass before playing to be in the best state of mind.

But Hob meant to take him rough and tight, this won't do. However, as wide the girth of the dildo Dream has taken might have been, his passage is very much too tight for the nearest objects at hand. So Hob takes a pool ball and coats it in saliva and then he starts pushing it into Dream's yielding asshole. And Dream did not expect that, he thought he was getting Hob's cock !! Except the pressure is soon so much it renders him speechless and panting, and he is simply unable to protest as Hob pushes it deeper, until Dream's hole swallows it, and then he uses his cue to push it deeper still, before he starts inserting a second ball, and soon Dream has three heavy pool balls in his abdomen that are also weighing down on his dick squished between them and the table, and he's stretched so wide and deep and the pressure on his prostate is constant and he's completely incoherent. Hob behind him has already come in his pants just from the view but he said nothing because he's rapidly becoming hard again. He's going to fondle those squishy and soft balls of Dream and then slip a hand under Dream's abdomen and he's certain he's going to come again from feeling the much heavier and harder and larger pool balls poking out through his skin :D

Oooo yes!! I did mention Dream as pool hustler at one point! This is a fantastic elaboration, friend!! I think this genuinely has legs to be a really great fic!!!

Let me say I am obsessed. OBSESSED. With Hob pressing Dream onto the table in that position. I don't know what the technical term is but I love the image of Dream on his belly with his leg out to one side and his arse perfectly accessible.

Imagine how Dream’s hole would gape and ache and strain against the massive intrusion. His skin flushes and he's dripping sweat down his thighs, and cue inside him is almost like a relief because it isn't squeezing and pressing against his sensitive insides. His stomach is totally bulging outwards and putting even more pressure on his dick against the table... just imagine the mess on the green baize fabric when he cums - an orgasm that seems to start at his prostate, and ends up nearly exploding out of his cock.

Poor little Dream feels so pained and stretched and abused but... he also feels like an absolute winner. There's nothing like making your rival snap to give you a bolt of deep satisfaction. It's Hob who ends up licking the table clean after Dream is finally spent, and it's Hob who has to carry him all the way back to the hotel... with the balls still inside :D

#dont put pool balls in your butt. im not your mother but just dont do it #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw object insertion

[visbiscuit]

Whistle Stop ( steve rogers version, +18 )

Vis’ Dump → Masterlist Original Version → Whistle Stop

I am NOT responsible for your media consumption. This blog is intended for a mature audience as are the stories on it. So if you are not at least 18, I suggest you read something else. If you recognize any name or characters, that means that I have no copyright on them, but their action in this work of fiction are mine as is the plot. This is a no-profit written work and I don’t condone republishing it or copying it. Please, if you want to support me, reblog/like or comment. Thank you :)

pairing: Thief!Steve Rogers x FemReader ( no description of ethnicity or body type ) … word count: 1k+ … warnings: this was written for ryan ackerman (you can find that on my profile) but i loved it too much so here i am changing the main male character. male receives oral sex. sort of sub!steve and dom!reader. if you squint, the reader plays with steve's ass (who wouldn't). praising. the thief part... does not exist, i couldn't concentrate enough because i wanted to write smut. IF YOU'RE A MINOR, DO NOT CONTINUE. this is not a work for people under eighteen years old, I don't care if you feel old enough to read smut. you're probably not.

you're welcome to reblog, comment and like!

That's why his former boss hadn't allowed anyone to meet his daughter. That woman... she was a menace.

"Shit."

Droplets of sweat beaded on Steve's forehead. The feel of her mouth around his cock had rendered him speechless. He was unable to formulate a meaningful sentence, the only thing he could do was thank the heavens for that unexpected gift. And she hadn't even started yet. Her lips travelled his length gently and with a feigned innocence. They bathed in his liquid and, like a barter, she spit on his cock every now and then and with a controlled gesture of her hand spread it around his size. Her knees must have ached on the wooden floor, but at that moment Steve was focused on something else entirely.

Her tapered fingers encircled him in an oh-so-delicious grip that made his inner thighs tremble. He hadn't entered that house with the intention of fucking whoever was there, certainly not, but he would never, ever complain about what was happening. His eyes were closed tightly, he knew that if he gave her even a glance, he would come after not even a second. If he had, he would have seen a smirk on the young woman's face and a look of complete hypnotization at the sight of his abs writhing with every breath he took. It had all happened so quickly; she had wasted no time in pushing Steve onto the leather couch and kneeling down like it was her favourite thing to do. Like she was born to do that. She had unzipped his fly with urgency and left a kiss on his member through his boxers. In retrospect, the fact that he was already sitting down had helped him, because that simple, pure kiss had shaken him to the point where he had let out a rough, still premature moan from the back of his throat. She had simply chuckled and gone to work.

When she had removed his boxers completely, she had spent a few seconds staring at him. Although his length was impressive, it was his size that had her mouth-watering, ready to sling herself at his cock. It wasn't like her to act this way, but the sight of Steve's body had turned her into a hungry animal. Her hunger could only be quenched this way.

She began softly, with gentle kisses all over his member until she enveloped the tip of his cock with her lips. A trickle of saliva wet her chin, but that was the least of her worries. Now what she cared about was the way he tried to stifle his moans in futile attempts that did nothing but make her even wetter. She didn't care about being fucked, as long as she could taste him in his entirety. She sucked the head of his cock vigorously, but didn't push herself any deeper. She wanted to be watched like the star of a movie, his eyes had to be on her to imprint an image in his mind that he would hardly forget.

With manicured nails, she pinched his inner thigh and his clear eyes stared at her with surprise and curiosity. "I want you to look at me, Steve," he shook his head, not thinking he'd be able to sustain her passion-filled eyes. "If I don't have your eyes on me, I won't continue" she told him ending the sentence with a squeeze to his balls that made him shudder. He took a big breath and nodded; he would do his best. "Good boy" she gave him a wink.

Then, with a gesture of exhausting slowness, she hollowed her cheeks around his large manhood and took him entirely inch by inch. She never took her eyes off his and contracted the muscles of her throat. Steve could hold himself back no longer and let out a choked moan that echoed through the walls of the living room. The woman ran all the way backwards along his cock, and then, like an expert, repeated the movement over and over again, with greater and greater intensity. Her hands were not still, one was cupping his balls and the other one was caressing his ass, occasionally grazing his anus. He had never allowed anyone to touch him there, but every time her index finger asked permission to enter him, he felt himself melting. He was ready to give to this stranger his most treasured possession if only she asked.

He tried to hold on to her head to take control of the situation and delay the inevitable, but she wouldn't let him do anything and continued her assault on his intimacy. He was her puppet and she was the puppeteer. They had never met before, but it was as if she knew all his weak buttons and was ready to push them all without mercy. Usually, he was the one to take control, but he felt like pudding in her hands.

Her mouth was warm and wet, a place he would gladly lose himself for the rest of his days. The sensations blurred his vision and several times he had to concentrate to keep his gaze glued to her face. She was an angel who was dragging him to hell with her. A fallen angel with black wings. The way he moved her head up and down seemed simultaneously unrestrained and controlled in every minute detail.

He gave her no warning, not that he could have. His orgasm hit him like a runaway train. As unexpected as the whole situation. She was not at all unprepared, she swallowed every drop of his cum as if she needed it. Her thirst had finally been quenched, but she didn't stop moving on his cock. She touched it and stimulated it until he begged her to stop. He couldn't take it anymore, he felt he had no strength to get up or speak. His chest moved slowly, trying to regain its balance as she wiped her mouth of a few ribbons of cum she hadn't managed to catch. She had never stopped smiling at him. She felt proud of herself for making the man in that condition.

"I knew you were a good boy."

#steve rogers smut #smut #steve smut #tony stark #steve rogers #chris evans smut #smutty smut #chris smut #captain americ #captain america smut #steve rogers x fem reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader smut

[saintsenara]

bunch of questions for war of roses: obviously i have my own thoughts about the blood motif that is present in the chapter. what was your intention with it? i know you wrote an entire post about why this is called the war of roses. but i am most curious about roses being walburga's favourite flower, and her watching the undulating roses in mourning clothes. It is such a striking image - and it appears in two of your fics. thoughts?

thank you very much for the ask, pal! it seems that chapter one of the war of the roses can be summed up pretty accurately by dear old film!ginny...

and the answer, as you are becoming familiar with via our conversations in the deathly hallows bookclub, is that both the theme of blood and the characterisation of walburga are driven by my belief that the way the series presents the body, illness, and disability fucking sucks.

why is there so much blood?

obviously, one reason for the motif of blood is as a visual metaphor for the social context: the wizarding world is obsessed with class, heredity, and lineage; sirius spent his youth trying to escape those forces but has been shoved back into his childhood home, made to confront the fact that half the people trying to murder his found family are his blood relatives, and face being reminded constantly by his mother's portrait that his decision to turn his back on his parents' blood supremacy is considered to be a stain on his entire line. the blood being leached daily from him against his will when he brushes his crumbling teeth and spits onto his mother's expensive porcelain is one way of showing the effect this is having on his mental state...

but something which will also be a prominent theme in this story is the fact that twelve years in azkaban must have been physically ruinous for sirius. all too often, the harry potter series dismisses or minimises the concept of physical illness or disability - all injuries are easily healed; all physical disabilities, such as moody's loss of his eye, are rendered obsolete by magic.

the series' main focus when it comes to illness or disability is the impact of these things on cognition - and on how the series understands cognitive function to connect to magical ability. [think lockhart, the longbottoms, ariana dumbledore, etc...]

the series also - even though it does purport to think that the soul and the will are separate things [voldemort's horcruxes do not diminish his extraordinary power or intelligence] - connects cognitive function to the soul, as we see in the fact that the dementor's kiss causes something akin to brain stem death.

azkaban, then, is set up in canon as something which primarily impacts the cognitive state of its inmates - especially by forcing them into a state which mirrors the symptoms of major depression and which has them constantly worrying about their souls being eaten. but it also clearly damages them enormously physically too. both sirius and bellatrix are described as 'gaunt' after their escape - and while the prisoners' loss of appetite may be caused by the psychological force of the dementors, starvation is also a physically damaging process. the fact that the prison is frequently described in canon as being poorly maintained and in the middle of a freezing ocean will also have a physical impact on the people confined there - in terms of making them more susceptible to respiratory illness, circulation problems etc. - alongside its mental one.

physical decay and injury is rarely shown in the series - which is strikingly resistant to gore of any kind - but the war of the roses isn't. sirius is losing so much blood - in his urine, from his gums - because his body is a wreck after his time in prison, and his experience of what can be meaningfully described as chronic illness will be a key theme of the piece.

[what's wrong with his leg remains to be seen...]

why is walburga transfixed by the image of roses?

one of the things which i think it's crucial to bear in mind about the canonical walburga - and, indeed, something which is the central theme of a planned in defence of walburga black meta i have sitting in my drafts - is that her primary purpose in canon isn't to be a real person, but to be one of the amalgamation of various different gothic literary tropes which make up grimmauld place.

indeed, the walburga of order of the phoenix and deathly hallows isn't so much a character as she is a piece of worldbuilding. she's a spectre haunting her son. she exists exclusively to increase the sinister atmosphere of grimmauld place and, above all, to hammer home the point that the house is a semi-sentient prison which is driving sirius slowly mad and which is the direct cause of the depression and restlessness which will eventually lead him to disobey the order to stay put, go to the department of mysteries, and meet his death. [except that hasn't happened here!]

this is - of course - the same purpose served by lots of other women in gothic or quasi-gothic stories. walburga is like rebecca de winter - who exists only as a memory designed to torture others. she's bertha rochester, rattling around the attic and attempting to ruin the man-of-the-house's happiness.

which means that my reading of her has always been heavily influenced by those texts which can be used to challenge and/or recontextualise the figure of the woman in the gothic novel. above all, charlotte perkins gilman's the yellow wallpaper, in which a mentally ill woman becomes obsessed by the pattern on the wallpaper in a room to which she is confined. as i've said in the notes to lamentation - the other piece of writing on walburga which uses this motif - i really don't like the fanon of 'black family madness', and i much prefer to think of walburga as someone who suffers from depression, which would be treatable if anybody cared enough to help her.

why roses specifically? well, the flower has an extremely prominent role in the english imagination - especially as a symbol of nobility and of feminine beauty [the english rose archetype]. it seemed a good choice for someone who is clearly so profoundly affected by the twin pressures of class and gender.

[why she constantly wears mourning clothes remains to be seen...]

#asenora fics #the war of the roses #asks answered

[brokenbrainstormbulb]

just a little something i tinkered up with Loadout+ extra editing with CSP.... maybe i might redraw them, maybe not.

all the models, separated below.

me, being an idiot, rendered Bravado and Champ on a solid png, closing the site before i remembered i could have saved a lot of trouble if i just remembered to make the background invisible. seriously, i wish there was a "save model" kind of feature on this site.

did you know i rendered that image before i knew how to turn on the rotation wheel? thankfully, from this render onwards, i've been modelling these goobers like a normal person.

i gave Inge a lot of bags because i like bags. i'm still trying to figure out why it needs so many bags though.

Leader's side shot makes it look like the tsundere it absolutely is.

by the way, do you know i'm very proud of how the arm crossing thing turned out? it was hard figuring how they should be posed, which is why i'm even more sad i can't save these beyond pngs.

ahh, [name still undecided], do you know how much of a PAIN IN THE MOTHER. FUCKIN. ASS YOU WERE.

i had decided at some point that my Heavybot was to be posed so that she was slouching over and clip over (? not sure what words to use) Leader.... this would be easy if this was in SFM (uh, easier? SFM is still hard) because it's a matter of where you put the models and perspective and blah, blah...

i spent like, a few days posing the model-> exporting the image-> melding it over the Medibot model to see if they covered up the areas i was aiming for-> procrastinating after failing over and over again... repeat at least 20 times.

for the hands.... the lasso tool, as usual, was my friend.

(also, is it just me or does the exported image have a slight blue outline on it? i have no idea why that exported like that. i don't give a fuck at this point.)

Loadout has been open for like, an entire week at this point, and i think it's safe to assume that i might not be touching that site for a while, in favor of physically drawing stuff. well, if i don't get off my 3ds anytime soon...

#my art #codename c #oc: bravado #oc: leader #oc: champ #oc: inge #oc: heavybot #i have for the most part been focusing on their looks just so i can draw them #i'm defos satisfied with what i came up with on Loadout-> lore #esp my Medibot! before i found the Das Metalmeatencasen it was looking a little... bare... #(technically it's more of a ''Das Metalmetalencasen'' now though. heh. heh.) #i really gotta write down my oc lore at this point. where to start though. hmm.

[bunatee]

A very long post in which I talk about why the first attempt at this piece is the way it is and what I did differently in the second attempt. This is mostly just for my own reference and is more or less an analysis of my work and processes for the sake of self improvement.

These pieces were definitely a lesson in my processes and how I draw. Both pieces clearly started from the same sketch.

In the original attempt the sketches progressed like this as I attempted to only use the initial sketch and work with the lines that I had originally laid down. I was also using a much harder pen than I would normally use by the end stages. This ended up making the entire work very thick and cartoon-y. Especially her facial features, which really doesn't work with Edelgard having such a dainty look to her.

Such thick linework made it harder to really render her features with shading, which only added to how flat the final result looks. It also was a terrible idea to change the lines from a dark shade on a Linear Burn layer to just black.

Compare this to the second version, which was made by simply tracing the 3rd sketch above to create a new clean layer of line work. This is what my normal process would already entail. During my first attempt at the piece this just wasn't working for me and rather than take a break I tried to push through it by doing things in a different way than normal.

It's harder to tell between the two final images of linework, but the second attempt is not made with black. It's actually a muted purple (#565263, if anyone reads this an is curious about the exact shade. Normally I would use a deep red specifically #590d0d or #993333 depending on the piece.) Using these shades on a linear burn layer allows for the line art to blend a bit better and look less harsh against the rendering layer underneath.

Now lets compare the rendering between the two. There should probably be a trigger warning for the jump scare that is the rendering of these without the line work (/j, in case that is needed).

The trickier thing is figuring out where I went so wrong with the rendering. Both used roughly the same method that I always use so why is the first one so bad?

It is immediately obvious that everything is entirely too soft on the original variant. There is very little definition between anything. Comparatively the second attempt has significantly harder lines between different parts of the fabric and shapes. For the first version I didn't take the time to actually create a selection layer and individually shade each individual part of the figure. This is something I did take the time to do on the second piece and overall I spent less time working on it even with that added effort. Clearly that part of the process is incredibly important.

Next, the second version drapes the fabric significantly better and the decorative caps on the cloak feel like they have a proper amount of weight to them. The actual body of the cape could still use improvement but is still better off than the original. The headpiece and necklace-thing both have defined features now rather than just a few haphazardly placed highlights.

Additionally there is a lot more variation in the actual colors used. The blues used to shade the second piece add a lot of dimension to the clothes that just using darker reds did not achieve.

The only things that I think the first does better in this area is the shade of blue used for the collar and the part of the horns that attach to her hair. (Honestly though, what the fuck is that head piece?) And the lighter shade of purple used for her eyes.

In the end if I had to go back and make an further fixes (which I may do if I get to the point of actually having enough work to make prints for CCAG) I would fix whatever the actual fuck is happening with her rib-cage that I seemed to have ignored entirely in both pieces and just pull that part of the cape forward a bit more to cover that very awkward space. I would also do those couple of color adjustments that were already mentioned.

Otherwise, I'm really pleased with how this second version turned out.

If you made it to the end of this, thanks for reading! I hope you're having a wonderful day <3

#today is a bad dyslexia day so apologies for any insane mistakes #myart #bunatee ramblings #editing in this tag to state my annoyance that the format for the pictures didn't seem to stick even though it looks right in the editor #but all the pictures are just full sized and none are side by side on my dash #super annoying.

[yunoteru4ever]

Wtf is image-generation A.I. even good for? Seriously. Like, SERIOUSLY.

Tried to get a lil' bit of a shippy fix out of the stupid-ass Bing Image Generator A.I., but alas — it's too fucking dumb to even gift me something as simple as two fictional characters sharing a kiss.

THE PROMPT:

THE RESULT:

Omgwtfbjlkaj;dlkfjdlkmc/.kajd;lfkjdsl;kjfasdl,mc/.,j??!?!?!?!?!?

Like, I realize the requested ship is PrObLeMaTiC but this is going a bit fucking far in response, dontcha think?!?!

Bing. Honey. Lambchop. Bing, you absolute fucking protozoan. Tell me WHAT, exactly, in your pwecious Content Policy renders this request "unsafe," motherfuckers. You fucking TELL ME, with a straight face.

Actually... don't bother. You don't need to tell me, because I already investigated the matter. I already know what upset you.

That's right — I spent some time breaking down the request into components to see if I could come up with the cause of this warning. I tried making the same prompt with two characters who were much older, thinking that maybe they were upset about them being teenagers... but no, still blocked. I tried to change it so they were just hugging one another... but no, STILL BLOCKED. I tried to change it so that I used generic, non-copyright descriptions of two people instead of actual names... STILL FUCKING BLOCKED!!!

The answer to what was offensive in my request is actually much simpler and VERY MUCH stupider than I ever imagined: "Hugging" and "kissing" between humans is completely forbidden. It doesn't matter if you ask for it to be romantic or platonic. The age of the participants doesn't matter. Even if you ask for a kiss on the cheek, it's blocked. A mom kissing her kid on the forehead? BLOCKED. A dad hugging his baby son? BLOCKED.

Oh, but you CAN make an image of someone kissing or hugging an inanimate object. Like, "grandma kissing a wrought iron fence" is totally ok.

Caaaaan you feeeeel the loooooove toniiiight

WHAT ARE WE EVEN DOING?!?!

WHAT?!

It's bad enough that we're trying to strip the humanity out of artistic creation. It's bad ENOUGH that we're trying to make it so actual human artists can't make a living anymore. But to make it so you can't even use these image-generating shits do so much as crap out a piss-poor pic of your fave ships bein' shippy, just to get a fleeting seratonin boost? ....we have truly FAILED AS A SOCIETY.

This is absolute the bare minimum I thought I could get out of your shitty technology, you dystopian fucknecks. The BARE-ASS MINIMUM.

#a.i. #image-generation a.i. #ships #fictional ships #shipping #yunoteru

[rhoeysama]

Few things are as pretentious and arrogant as putting a watermark on AI-compiled "art" and post it as your own. I see this lately on DeviantArt (an artist community/ art sharing and hosting platform I've been a part of for 15+ years). As if you made it. As if you thought it up and made 10-20+ sketches before you found a composition you actually liked. As if you spent 20, 50, 100+ hours making it. As if you lost sleep making it. As if you sat on your ass for so many hours that your ass got flat and numb and your back aches, your wrist aches, you're hungry, you have to pee, and you're running on coffee just to function, and just realized that you haven't eaten or showered or even been outside all day.

Unless you have dedicated your life and sacrificed yourself - i.e. chosen your ART for years over hanging out with friends, partying, dating & hooking up, lying on the beach, clubbing, binge-watching Netflix or gaming, etc etc - you don't get to call yourself an artist and claim you MADE anything. Sorry, not sorry. This isn't me gatekeeping art; this is me calling out art theft.

I've "made" stuff with AI too. It literally took me less than 5 minutes. All I had to do was type some words into a program and wait for it to compile some images. THAT'S. IT. It takes existing artwork from the internet and pretty much mashes it together. It's not new. It's not original. You didn't make it. Honestly, I'm so sick of seeing it. DeviantArt is almost nothing but AI art anymore, and some people are blatantly posting AI images and calling them "digital art", deliberately not tagging it or disclosing it as AI. What's even more infuriating is that some have "subscriptions" and "take commissions", as in you can pay them to type some words into a program and have it steal art from around the web so they can call themselves an artist. Wow, that was easy! So glad they didn't have to WASTE years of their lives practicing their craft and honing those skills, am I right??

What comes cheap has no value. If anyone can be an artist by the press of a button, then art has no value. True value is the sacrifice - the energy that went into creating the work. The time and attention it took, the LOVE, and YES, the SACRIFICE. I know that's not a popular word these days. Everyone wants to have everything, but nobody wants to compromise and sacrifice for it and do what it takes to get there. Do the hard work without the guarantee of success.

Yes, I am salty. No, I don't care if you're offended. This is such a big fuck you to artists like myself, who have worked our whole lives to hone our craft. It's taking narcissism to a whole new level.

I'm not making art for praise or attention and recognition. I'm making art because I'm passionate about it, I LOVE it, and because it's my way of honoring God, my creator. It gives me purpose and meaning, it's my way of prayer and meditation and healing. It's fun and makes me feel alive and like a child.

AI is fun and all, don't get me wrong. But it isn't YOUR art. It's actually other artists' work that's being stolen and used to render "your" art. Let's not forget that. Be very mindful of this when using AI.

Humility is out of fashion and narcissism and hubris are the new normal. Welcome to Clownworld.

#I'm venting because this has been bothering me for a while #this might be inflammatory but I couldn't care less #rant #I am praying for humanity

[artfightdramaconfessions]

if I'm being annoying about this then ignore me fair enough but as an artist I'm so fucking concerned that a lot of people here seem to be so unfamiliar with references that they either don't know the difference between it and tracing or just think it's an insanely difficult thing to do that they as beginners can't use it

References are good. INSANELY good. References are when you use a picture as a visual for what you want to draw, either copying 1:1 how it looks (NOT TRACING. Copying it by LOOKING at it not PUTTING IT IN A LAYER UNDERNEATH/PUTTING IT UNDER YOUR PAPER) or just using it as a sort of guide for what you want to draw. Using references is basically the main way any artist learns how to draw anything, no artist knows how to draw everything, not even professionals. Kids in middle school drawing objects on desks to mangaka looking at pictures of city streets and buildings to draw a setting all use references to draw. Using a reference is just having a picture to look at and draw. That's it. You look at the picture, you draw, when you get stuck/think it's not going well you look again, and it goes on until you're done. It's more effort than tracing but that doesn't mean it's hard, please stop being afraid as an artist to do things that are harder than "zero thought"

If you're still like "but OP, I'm not convinced and still think references are super hard and I'm genuinely just kind of scared to try" then I want you to look here

I drew this when I was 14, in a regular ass sketchbook with a regular ass pencil, and colored the few colored bits digitally. I didn't know how to draw Cheshire Cat, I didn't know how to draw detailed fur, or detailed eyes, or teeth, none of it. I was not an exceptional artist at 14. I drew this looking at a reference image I found on google dot com, probably something like this:

"b-but how long did it take you, a million years???" 6 hours. Which is,,, about as long as any portrait render now takes me, and I've definitely spent more time than that on some artfight attacks of about the same or better quality. If it were something simpler it obviously would've taken less time, it only took that long because it WAS so detailed. Slower than tracing? Sure, but so is just. Drawing.

And guess what, after this? I could shade teeth and fur SO GOOD. I knew Cheshire Cat like the back of my fucking hand. You gain SO MUCH GOOD KNOWLEDGE from using a reference to draw something even once and it is so insanely sad to me that people are afraid of doing it because it's a bit more effort than tracing. Fuck.

Don't kneecap yourself because you're afraid of something you haven't even tried jesus christ this has been a PSA

In regards to Art Fight just. Guys. Trace on your own time not for an even where tracing would put you at an unfair advantage or at least UNDERSTAND why the event leads wouldn't want you to do that

#artfight #art fight #artfight2022 #submission #fair but keep in mind going off of this specific example you provided #mods would have clocked that for heavy referencing too #theyre really strict on it if they find out #and youd be surprised how often they somehow find out #i think the problem is you're debating the wrong point entirely #everybody else is on an entirely different page

[dundunny]

Hogwarts Legacy

I was actually pleasantly surprised at the quality; usually games based off of movies or books tend not to be great, but the studio actually threw it quite a lot of effort behind this, and while I wouldn't say it's amazing it's very well done. The premise is the player is attending late 1800s Hogwarts, so the only characters from the books are the ghosts and Phineas Nigellus Black. No explanation is given as to why you're suddenly starting school as a fifth year, your background, or why you specifically can do magic no one else can, because it is first and foremost a fantasy, that you yourself are there.

There would be several things I would change about it though, starting from fighting. Although the battle system is streamlined, and fun, it's easy and you overlevel fairly quickly. I wasn't even trying to go out of my way to do sidequests or anything, but I found myself several levels above any enemy I was fighting. Even those equal to me weren't too much of an issue. That also may be due to the lack of variety in enemies--there's only seven types--so you learn the attack pattern for all of them early on. There are less spells than you'd expect as well, so although you can switch up your combos, you don't really need to.

The second is the map. There isn't one. You have a minimap, but what I would like to see is the whole fucking thing please. Literally when you click on "map" in the menu, an image of the castle pops up. That doesn't help me. I know, I know, it's hard to render a map with a layout like Hogwarts when there aren't any solid stories, but you could've rendered the interior of the whole thing and allowed to player to zoom in and out.

The third is the map itself. It is huge because they were mimicking the Scottish highlands. I've said it many times, I appreciate a large map but you really don't need it. I'm willing to let it slide in this case because I think the developers wanted wide room for flying on your broom or animals, which... yeah, that was pretty epic. However, if you are going to make it this large, you need rewards for exploration. I'll keep throwing Breath of the Wild out as an example because Nintendo did do a great job. In that game, wandering gave you shrines, Korok seeds, or even random sidequests. Here, there are Merlin trials peppered around the map, but the treasure vaults didn't feel like a reward because after the first few hours of play time the treasure was always shitty.

The fourth is sometimes shit didn't make any sense. If you didn't go to Hogsmeade with Sebestian, it's weird how he sacrificed himself in the library for you. Or if you did it the other way around, then it's odd how Natty is really into taking out Harrow considering she wouldn't've been in the Three Broomsticks. Or like why does Ollivander think his missing wand has anything to do with your missing pages. That's poor writing that with a bit of polishing would've been resolved. Also, explain that shit hovering over the Pensieve is a locket because no one could tell and it comes out of left field how characters are talking about this locket.

There are other small complaints, like how it can get glitchy (but often in a hilarious way), why are there giant spiders but Hagrid hasn't attended yet, how come there are random missions when I have to sneak out after hours but I do that all the time in regular gameplay, why did they only hire two voice actors for the player and then later digitally modified them, why does the menu have a pointer, how come there isn't a close Ravenclaw friend...

However I was pretty blown away by other aspects. I'll say time and time again I love environments and Hogwarts was a fucking delight. The developers took a large page from the movies, but there were plenty of unique areas. The first time I played I think I literally spent about three hours just wandering and staring at everything. The attention to detail was amazing. And it extended beyond Hogwarts. I mentioned before how large the map is, and going through Hogsmeade, the Forbidden Forest, standing on the buffs over the coast... It's a very visually attractive game and I felt like I was hiking back in Ireland.

The plot was actually pretty solid. Not amazing, but it was nice seeing how the choices in the past are affecting the present, and how everyone came together in the end. The characters are also interesting and memorable, even ones you just meet for one sidequest. I can still recall Arthur's unusual voice as he shares his treasure map with you, or Garreth experimenting with potions, or Nellie's enthusiasm for the Dedaelian keys, or Mr. Moon being an alcoholic, or Nerida trying to become an ambassador to the mermaids, or Imelda being a bitch. And I was always excited when the next chapter in Sebestian, Natty, or Poppy's storylines would pop up.

What was a great delight were the puzzles. Although not excessively hard, sometimes you really had to think and I feel it's something that a lot of video games aren't doing as much anymore. Sitting in front of a Merlin trial or standing in a treasure vault, contemplating what needed to be done, was something I haven't felt in a while.

The music was also lovely. The four dudes responsible, Chuck E. Myers, J. Scott Rakozy, Peter Murray, and Alexander Horowitz really tried emulated Williams' style. There were moments of silence that seem prevalent in video games nowadays, but mostly they tried to keep it flowing.

If you're a Harry Potter fan, definitely play this. If you're not and haven't read the books/watched the movies, I still say it's enjoyable experience. There are plenty of features I didn't cover, like capturing animals or decorating your own room. Good job guys, you fulfilled all of my childhood fantasies.

#harry potter #hogwarts legacy

[digidrakncreature]

In case anyone here follows just my altbeing tumblrs and not my main and didn't understand what I was talking about wrt my skull and chronic illness:

tldr: I have cervical medullary syndrome but not cci.

it seems that something in or near my skull is misaligned and needs surgical correction. Symptoms started as toddler and got progressively worse continuing to present, 30 years old.

There's a ton of evidence but it's too small to show on any imaging so I can't find a neurosurgeon who will help

I have the same symptoms as cranio cervical instability, cervical medullary syndrome, but my cervical spine (bones in the neck) is stable. Traction testing revealed that something is off about the occipital bone of my skull.

The most likely theory is that when my skull fused at 2 years old or whenever, the lambdoid suture

[shown here: a 3D render of a human skull with the occipital bone removed to show where it connects]

fused incorrectly, maybe a few microns off, causing microscopic brainstem compression

[shown here: underside of 3D rendered human skull with a small black circle at the front of the foramen magnum]

here, at the front of the foramen magnum (brainstem hole) (Google says it's called "the basion"?)

This would explain:

- my symptoms

- the glacial progression of my symptoms from toddler to now age 30

- why nothing shows up on any imaging

- why my symptoms are relieved when my skull is pushed up from here:

but any other traction, like an invasive cervical traction, does nothing

[shown here: a photo of someone with the invasive cervical traction skull thing in their head because I don't have any photos of myself when I had it, I've obscured their face and drawn on my expression at the time. Second photo is the pulley from an invasive cervical traction, again from the internet since I didn't get photos]

So unfortunately nothing shows up in Xrays, MRIs, or even the SPECT bone CT fusion scan I had to get.

I've been... dismissed by more than 11 neurosurgeons.

under cut: explicit recounts of medical abuse

THE cci/chiari malformation neurosurgeon in my area did my invasive cervical traction. He didn't listen to a fucking word I said. I explained that the test would be negative, that only pushing up on the back of my skull relieves my symptoms, but he just kept repeating "You have occipital neuralgia" loudly until I stopped trying to talk. Occipital neuralgia is when the occipital nerve cluster is inflamed -- it causes headaches which get Much Worse if pressure is put on the back of the skull. Literally the opposite of what I was trying to tell him. I knew he was wrong at the time.

Several doctors refused to take my case out of self preservation: it would be risky to their careers if they tried to save my life.

Several surgeons refuse to take me because my MRIs don't show anything.

One neurosurgeon I dragged myself into the city to see in person. My body gave out while waiting in the examination room. He tried to tell me "Good news you don't need surgery" and then didn't understand why I started crying. He then spent the next half an hour or so berating me for not being able to stand (from the floor where I was sitting because the chair had been too painful) and walk out. He insisted that if I walked in I should be able to walk out. I tried to explain that my body was in way way too much pain and I was physically unable -- that I'd pushed myself too hard to get here in the first place, but he kept telling me I was a bad, selfish person for occupying a room they needed to see patients in. Eventually the staff brought a wheelchair and helped me get up to get in it. They only wheeled me to the exit, forcing me to very slowly and painfully hobble a block to the ER they're affiliated with and totally could have taken me to.

I got screened in a video call and the doctor doing the screening Actually Understood and I was like Holy Shit??? But. The surgeon dropped me when the spect scan came back clean, and I can't contact the screening doctor.

Some experimental place in another part of the US wants me to go there for some stem cell strengthening of some neck ligaments to try to fix the problem. They don't take insurance.

I've already had a chiropractor try to manually realign my occipital; my symptoms continued to progress and I was unable to continue appointments.

My symptoms are severe, my quality of life is bad, I'm struggling.

As far as I can guess, based on limited knowledge, there's these options for fixing it:

1) surgically tighten lambdoid suture, like with screws or something

2) go in through back of throat and widen foramen magnum at the basion (probably ligaments and stuff in the way, probably impossible or inadvisable.)

3) occipitocervical fusion -- put in the stuff and push skull up with the top of the spine as the base to push from. Extremely inadvisable, would cause a ton of issues.

#skulls tw #human anatomy tw #yes looking at human skulls triggers my species dysphoria

[sukirichi]

like crashing waves

Love comes to you like waves crashing upon one another.

REQUEST. mutual pining au + best friends to lovers + breeding kink 

CONTENT/WARNINGS. beach sex, unprotected sex, fingering, titty sucking, smut, nanami being a sweetheart <3 + the mandatory unedited note!

NOTES. thank you for requesting and joining the milestone event! I hope you like this <3

Your squeals echo as you run out of the car, arms flinging behind you with your best friend, Nanami, trailing behind you. His brows furrow upon seeing the familiar scenery of a light ultramarine sky, the sound of crashing waves calming upon his senses. His gaze falls on your waving form, figure jumping from the sand as you call out to him. Your smile is a lot brighter than the sun right behind you, and captivated, he follows your motions, his hands falling into the spaces between yours before allowing you to tug him closer to the beach.

“You brought me here,” he announces a little dazed, subconsciously gripping your hand tighter. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did!”

This isn’t just some regular beach. This is the place where the two of you first met when you were both little, awkward stubby legs running around the sand and scooping sand castles. As always, Nanami’s been more of a timid child, frowning at how you splashed on the water, uninterested with simpler tasks like the one he’s busy with.

When you see him silently enjoying himself, you trudge up to him. His hands immediately come up to protect his castle, having had his other friend Satoru kick and destroy them one too many times.

He’s surprised when you only gasp in awe, carrying your own plastic shovel and helping him build a bigger one afterwards. Your connection was natural – instantaneous.

Everything goes downhill from there. Despite living in another town, your family kept close contact, leading to you enrolling into Nanami’s middle school and staying solid all the way until he has to go attend Jujutsu High. He’s made it clear that he wishes to not be too attached to anyone or even get a wife, firm in his belief that he doesn’t want to hurt anyone by leaving a loved one behind. You, though? He makes an exception for you.

You’re his best friend and everything more, the one who pulled him away from being a salary man and telling him he could be capable of doing something wore instead of just fattening his bosses up while he does all the hard and honest work.

Nanami isn’t...cynical, per se, but he has a painfully honest outlook in his life while you’re more of the type to enjoy the little things, claiming that it’s never a sin to be happy despite the darkness looming. He’s been so used to you being a lot brighter and more cheerful than him, total opposites, really, that when the tables have turned and you’re the one holding his face as you scold him to save people and be the hero he is, he can’t really find it in himself to refuse.

Until now, he’s surprised you’re taking his profession extremely well. You never once blinked when he told you about his abilities and even takes away a fly head off your shoulder once, jumping in his arms instead to thank him.

He wonders how he ever came lucky enough to find someone like you, one that he actually cherishes more than he values the rules he’s set to keep himself in line.

Nanami doesn’t get the chance to think any more when you start stripping in front of him, your bubbling laughter syncing perfectly with the lapping of waves when you fling your clothes at him. He regrets ever letting you meet Gojo; you’re naughty, but never this pressing. His glare is half hearted as you run straight to the beach, however, and the blond man sighs.

His birthday was planned perfectly down to a tee. He’ll invite you over to celebrate, spend the silence and read books with you, have coffee, cuddle, and call it a day.

You had other plans in mind the moment you barged into his room though, dragging and pushing your friend all the way inside your car. His queries are silenced by the blasting radio, the man leaning back in his seat as his fingers tap against his thigh, wondering what you had in mind. There’s never really any telling with you and your spontaneous habits, so he just closes his eyes, allowing his blond hair to be swept away by the wind.

The last thing his wildest dreams could ever imagine is you taking him right back where everything started, his hands deft and careful as he unbuckles his belt. His cheeks tints a little because you never gave him the chance to pack, save for you throwing in hoodies and random underwear into a duffel bag.

Nanami folds both your clothes on the sand, shivering a bit from the chilly liquid. He glares at you once more with a tired sigh, about to ask how you have so much energy after driving for four hours straight when you splash water on him.

He is silent in comparison to your mocking laughter, waddling all around him until you’re whisking the water at every direction of his body.

Nanami stands there still like a statue, eyes closed to prevent the saltwater from hurting him, his hair sticking to his skin. His muscles are tense the whole while, preventing himself from just reaching over – not yet, anyway – for you were still too far away. But your guard is lowered, forgetting for a moment that your best friend is a jujutsu sorcerer and he’s spent years honing his senses until he’s mastered them to the extremity of his capabilities.

As your laughter grows closer, the splashing turning harder as it pads against his skin, Nanami opens his eyes and grabs you by your wrist hard.

You let out an ‘oop’ when he effortlessly pulls you into his chest, your forehead knocking against the solid muscles of his chest. “Ow!” you rub your forehead, lips formed into a pout and about to complain when your eyes snap wide open, the first thing in sight his pecs. Clearing your throat, you try to push yourself off him, suddenly completely aware of his warmth and his other hand sliding down your hip, lower, lower, and lower. “Nanami—”

“Having fun?”

His voice is low, a tinge of warning behind his words. Guiltily, you glance down at your wrist wrapped around his large, bony hand, noting the size and strength difference between the both of you.

You don’t want him to see you’re flustered – even if it’s painfully obvious already – so you snicker up at him, tilting your jaw upwards until he’s looking down straight at you. Nanami cocks an eyebrow in challenge, awaiting what snarky response would leave your lips when you smirk, using your free arm to splash on him one more time.

Nanami reels back when the water shoots straight in his eyes. Okay, you have to admit that maybe that was a little mean, but you’re having so much –

You’re immediately hoisted up into his arms, the water sliding off your body and the ground slipping off your feet. Panic rises in your system when you’re lifted off the seafloor, hands desperate and slippery as you cling onto his broad shoulders. “N-Nanami!” you protest, clinging to him like a koala when he only smirks, walking farther until he’s reached a spot he knows you can’t reach. “Hey, that’s cheating, put me down this instant!”

“Do you really want me to do that?”

Nanami knows you’ve surrendered to loss when you huff, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around him tighter, nails subconsciously gliding down his back. He stiffens at your movements, brows furrowed as he ponders if bringing you here and rendering you helpless really is the best idea.

You’re pressed so close to him until space becomes nothing but a myth, your breathy intake of air wafting into his ear like bait. Nanami tightens his hold on your grip a bit, his swallowing audible at the feeling of your breasts pushed and flicking against his chest.

Fuck, of course you’re wearing your best bikini.

Nanami tries to push those lewd thoughts at the back of his head, drilling into his mind that you’re his best friend and you’re untouchable. He opts to stare beyond the horizon instead, train of thought too distracted of not letting himself be distracted by you that he doesn’t notice you pulling away to look at him.

He’s brought back to life when your wet palm caresses his cheek, thumbs smoothed over his cheeks. Nanami’s gaze flickers back to you, a sigh on his lips as he presses closer, daunting enough to leave a kiss on the crook of your palm.

That snaps something inside you.

You take his breath away – literally – as you cup his cheeks with both his hands, panting as you dove straight to his lips. Nanami’s reaction comes like reflex, both hands cupped under your ass as he meets your kiss with the same hunger and longing that has always been blossoming between the both of you the moment you both knew what love meant like.

Nanami’s groans are masculine and low when you begin to grind down on him, teasing as you push your breasts harder against his chest. Your nipples are hard enough that he feels the pebbled buds grazing across his chest, the sensation sending blood rushing to his cock.

He pulls away, cock swelling harder when he sees you all breathless with lips bruised. There’s something about knowing he’s the cause of you nearly falling apart like this, his mind wandering off a dangerous path at the fantasy of what you’d look like if he does something more.

The voice at the back of his head is responsible to keep him in his reigns, something he’s more than thankful of; otherwise he’ll completely ravage you senselessly at this moment.

“Do you really want our first time together to be out here in the open?” he rasps with short, quick pecks while you whine in his arms, the desire for that something more an aching and almost painful image on your face. “Won’t you like it more if we’re behind closed doors...” he brushes a thumb on your lip, coaxing your lips to part for him obediently. Nanami clenches his jaw when you eagerly suck at his thumb, your eyes dark and hazy with lust as you swirl your tongue around his digits. “...and I’d get to do whatever I want with you?”

“Are you going to hold back if we’re here?” you tease, popping his thumb off with a loud and wet pop. “It’s kind of romantic, don’t you think? The sun is setting behind us and it’s just the two of us anyway,” your words are breathy, panted and needy in its manner of delivery. Really, you can’t think straight anymore, not when his fingers are grazing over the swell of your ass and his face is bathed by the golden glow. Right now is perfect. “I just really want to be with you.”

You shudder when Nanami finally tugs your underwear to the side, the feeling of his fingers smoothing over your inner thighs and just hovering right where you want him to be enough to make you go crazy. You’re shaking, panting, almost crying.

Who knows how long you’ve wanted him – you’re simply too impatient if he plans to take his time with you.

A demand is ready to fall from your lips to just get him to take you already, but Nanami beats you to it, his pointer finger grazing against your slit. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, gritting his teeth the moment his thick, long finger sinks into you beautifully. Your head falls back in a moan as he pumps his fingers inside, testing the waters, and your pleasure is only amplified with the struggle of him trying to quicken his pace under the sea. “You’re so wet already.”

“Shut up, I-I wasn’t—”

“You’re beautiful,” Nanami growls, taking you by surprise when he takes two fingers to spring the knots of your top away. You gasp when your top slides off at the curve off your breasts before your erect nipples are revealed all for him, hard and swollen while he inserts another finger in your heat.

Clutching harder on his shoulders and bouncing yourself off on his finger, Nanami’s self control is tethering dangerously across the edge.

He leans down to suck at your breasts dutifully, fighting against the water that’s surrounding you both. “You’re extremely beautiful,” he praises, “Thank you – for letting me have you this way, for trusting me,” An elongated groan falls from both your lips when he sinks you down on his cock, your heat a great and mind-numbing contrast to the chill of the water. “I think you’re the best birthday gift.”

“Always so romantic, Nanami,” you managed through a laugh, allowing him to fuck into you senselessly. You’re all over him, hands wrapped around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair and tongue swiping out to taste the saltiness of the water on his skin. He’s amazing, so fucking good, and you snap your eyes shut while the soft, crashing waves match the rhythm of his thrusts. “No one could blame me for falling for you.”

“You are?” he grasps your ass until he squeezes it hard enough to make your walls clamp down on him, your grunting muffled by the teeth nibbling his earlobe. “Do you love me?”

“For so long.”

Nanami smiles even if you can’t see it, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll just have to show you, make you feel the words and emotions weighing heavily at his heart. Nanami leans sideways to capture your lips in a wet kiss, hands heavy and harsh compared to his passionate kisses as he keeps bouncing you up and down his cock. He’ll just have to show you.

“I’ll make up for the lost time then.”

You’re wearing your favourite hoodie of Nanami’s as you stand before the counter, stirring both mugs with your hands wrapped around it to warm you up. After your lovemaking session that has turned into more than two rounds, you’re downright spent, the both of you too tired to drive back home and opting for a hotel instead.

The aroma of coffee along with Nanami’s scent lingering on his clothes brings a smile to your face, your heart and skin still fluttery from today’s event.

Just then, strong arms wrap around your waist, soft lips coming down to press at the apples of your cheeks. You giggle in his arms as Nanami sways you both side to side, his head resting on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he announces quietly, so softly and tenderly as if it’s a secret only you’re allowed to know. You already became aware of his feelings – he’s shown it enough – but hearing it come from his own lips feels different.

Growing up, you always believed that love would come to you rapidly, overwhelmingly. But as Nanami swoops down to kiss you once more, his lips tasting faintly of the cake you both got on the way, you realize love is more like the soft crashing waves that comes gradually, slowly, yet constantly until you’re surrounded and it consumes you whole. It buds and grows larger until the crashing waves expand into an ocean of feelings that can’t even comprehend the depth of what you feel him, and you kiss him hard, embrace him hard – you just want to show him.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento x reader imagines #nanami kento x reader romance #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen romance #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami x reader imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #suki: 500 milestone event #suki: scheduled

[chiwhorei]

gun bunny

pairing: mafia!s. aizawa x fem!reader

genre: mafia!au, quirkless!au, smut- 18+ minors dni

word count: 2.5k

warning: somnophilia, voyeurism, violence, attempted kidnapping, attempted assault, mentions of blood, mentions of guns and knives, degradation, age-gap (reader is 19 and aizawa is 31), spitting

a/n: hello! this is my contribution to the smut pile mafia!server collab, this is both my first smut pile collab (this is so late i am so sorry sksksksk) and my first full-length bnha piece, be sure to check out everyone else’s amazing work here! thank you to @10millionyearsdungeon and @messwriting for your constant support while i trudged through sad pal hours for a fucking month and crawled out of the pits of writer’s block

hymns: hayloft by - mother mother, i’m on fire - awolnation cover

Blood pours over decades like syrup, the tinny-sweet smell was distinct but all too familiar. A muffled gun’s buzzing frames 19 years of life. The barrel feels cool, sitting precariously by the highest angle of your cheekbone.

“I told you not to cause trouble, brat. Now I have to clean up your little mess.”

Aizawa’s body is tall and broad above you, holding you against him with a protective grip on the small of your back. Every word is sneering, punctuated with a growl-- you feel it reverberate against his chest.

The bullet is resounding even through the silencer; a deafening sound, final bell tolling next to smeared streaks of mascara.

Aizawa Shouta has always been around-- whether bringing your dad a hefty stack of reports to thumb through or loosening his tie in the parlor and toasting him to another job well done. A carousel of chauffeurs and bodyguards encircle you, but all are nameless faces except for the man that can make people disappear in an instant: Eraser.

Otsuka y/n, the only daughter of the most powerful man in Japan, is a weighty title against your shoulders. Your father’s reputation has cradled you for almost two decades, keeping you draped in fur and balancing on red-bottoms. He has more money, more power than God. To most of your father’s inner circle, you are the dutiful, angelic heiress to his blood-soaked empire. You play the part well enough, polite, temperate- your hands are painted red in culpability, but perfectly manicured.

Your father’s business isn’t a secret, no matter his attempts to shield you over the years. There’s only so many nights spent humming to the tune of cracking skulls in the next room before “investments in oil” starts to lose its validity. Whenever you ask him, he pats your head, smoothing stray strands of hair, “I do it all for you, bunny. Everything is for you.”

You decide not to think about rouge splatters of blood and bruises against his knuckles, ignoring the clicking of a loading gun before he leaves for the office.

It’s better this way.

“You can’t be serious, Otsuka.” Aizawa paces across the hardwood, heel to toe with Italian leather from one large bookshelf to the other. A familiar habit, you’ve seen the contemplative marching before and know it to mean one thing: Aizawa is pissed.

“Have you ever known me to joke around? Especially with y/n?” Your father’s elbows hit the table in front of him, the jagged scars lining his face seem even more intimidating when coupled with a harshly set frown. You perch on the side of his large desk, swinging your feet lightly.

“Oh daddy, I’m not a child. I don’t need Eraser to babysit me.” You huff, crossing your arms and providing a pout to your father’s hard expression. You hear the mumbled, “Don’t call me that,” from behind you, but decide against a response.

“He’s going to look after you while I’m in Musutafu. I have to handle some…” he trails off slightly, one of his hands coming up to rub against his bald head, “noncompliance, but I shouldn’t be gone for more than a few days.” His disfigured fingers curling around yours, you look up to meet his eye, “Be a good girl, bunny.”

You give your father’s temple a kiss, pulling back to smile sweetly. Your next words have Aizawa snorting, rolling his eyes far enough into his skull to be painful.

“I always am.”

A bend downwards at the hips frames your ass perfectly, the lace of your panties curls around your pussy tightly, hooking against the lips and showcasing your soft skin. Questions swirl in the bowl of cereal in front of him, all but forgotten as soon as a cup“fell” from your fingers and clattered to the floor. The taste, the smell, the feeling of--

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Aizawa is ripped from the reprehensible desires of his senses to meet your eyes, your form still folded over on itself and displayed for Aizawa in the otherwise empty kitchen. You giggle at his scowl, snapping back up and smoothing out your skirt. Aizawa bites down on the spoon in between his teeth, he swears he can feel his teeth cracking. Better his canines than his will.

This only marks the beginning of a long week for your father’s right-hand man. The proceeding days turn to nights at a snail's pace. The past week has been inching towards disaster with every minute of alone time you could steal with Aizawa.

“Eraser, what are you doing up so late.” Your voice curls around his shoulder, the whine tugging him towards your open bedroom door. It’s late, far too late for you to be up to anything good.

You always like to push your luck, playing a game you know Aizawa won’t let himself win. Pressing firmly against the line but never pointing your heel across. Maintaining your immunity, feigning innocence behind a soft pout. Your appointed guardian isn’t fooled by any honeyed façade you build around his associates. He knows what you are at the core.

He tries to shake off your pull, but the way your voice lilts against the long hallway is magnetic. The past few nights have been the same song and dance, your disarming call to him as he trudges to one of the many guest bedrooms. Every night he gets closer, heavy feet and tense nerves guiding him towards your warm voice. He’s weathering a sea, you’re the siren hell-bent on his drowning.

“I told you not to call me that, little girl.” His response to your wanton call is shallow, the nickname is one he hates the sound of, especially rolling past your lips.

“Do you like what you see?”

Aizawa’s brows set harshly as he looks on to where you lie nestled in pillows and silk. You have nothing but a loose, light pink camisole to cover your body, cotton panties pulled down to your ankles with shameless intent. Your legs are spread wide for your viewer’s pleasure, two fingers brush against your lips, dragging lazily- up and back down.

Aizawa knows what you really are, a petulant brat.

You pull at the soft skin, spreading yourself to unveil the tight, clenching hole. He leans his shoulder against the jam, eyes drinking you in where his body shamefully wishes to be. The groan aching deeply in his chest is not lost on you as your other hand pulls the hem of your shirt upwards to catch in between your teeth.

The soft plush of your breasts bounces slightly, nipples peeking out from the folds of fabric, now fully exposed to the inky-black stare of your voyeur. There’s nothing left to his imagination now, the question that haunts sleepless nights, palming a large hand up and down his cock and imagining something softer and smaller. The picture of what his boss’s precious daughter would look like squirming under him becoming clearer beyond all reason.

Aizawa should turn heel and walk away, he should slam your bedroom door shut and count the days until your father’s return with a measured distance. He should walk away. He should-

A soft whimper drags him from contemplation and back to the writhing succubus center stage. Your fingers move quickly against your aching clit, drawing out babbled pleas to hit harshly against the tall, brooding presence at your door.

“I’ve had about enough of your games, bunny. Your father tasked me to keep you out of trouble, but you are the trouble.” Aizawa’s words hit your ears mockingly, but they sound more like an invitation than a warning, especially as his body inches forward, breaching the threshold of your bedroom inch by inch.

Two fingers slip past your lips, pushing in and drawing back slicked with arousal. You repeat the action, slowly, ensuring the boring set of eyes are trained on where you clench desperately; wanting to put on a good show with your bodyguard in the front row.

Aizawa’s head is swimming, dizzy and drunk. He wants to tear you apart, to lay claim to the twitching prize between your legs. If you struggle around two of your own much smaller fingers, it would be nearly impossible to wrap you around his thick cock.

That is, not without breaking you.

The heated pants escaping you pick up in canter, your audience winding a tight cord with his presence alone. Aizawa is unrelenting in his deep, unblinking stare, stepping towards your bed slowly. Once his body is looming over you, the coil in your stomach has turned into a hair pinned trigger.

“Such a messy little slut. Getting off to the attention aren’t you?” You’re rendered dumb at his comment, Aizawa barely has to press his thumb into your chin before your mouth hangs open. You look up with glassy eyes, fingers sore from working against your pussy, chasing a high you can only imagine how fast Aizawa could steal from you. His expression is as neutral as always, but the despondency doesn’t quite shadow the fire burning in his eyes. You watch him lean forward slightly, a string of saliva falling downward to land against your tongue. His spit feels hot, you can taste the remnants of cigar and mint gum as you swallow.

You come undone in a litany of cries, pleading with your captor. His hold is passive as he looks at you, watching you cum against your fingers, the squelching sounds make his mouth dry. The only source of hydration is at the apex of your thighs. Visions flash before his eyes, images of what the curve of your breasts look like as he’s buried tongue deep, lapping you up post-orgasm and pushing you over once more for good measure.

Aizawa retreats, lest he pulls you against his mouth while your cunt is still pulsating, he needs to escape before your knees are pressed to your shoulders. He slams your door closed harshly, leaving you with the taste of his contempt for you on your bottom lip.

You’re quick to sleep, body falling into the warmth of unconsciousness coupled with dreams of what a certain set of fingers would feel like against you. How the scars and calluses would brush against your most intimate inches of spongy flesh, how he would stretch you.

You can almost feel the soreness in between your legs and the heavy slap of something against your stomach. You can almost remember the whispered confessional swimming in the back of your head, the soft grunts from above your sleeping form. As sunlight stretches across your sleep-stiff body, your hand trails down over your naked skin, maybe you aren’t the only one playing games this week.

You could have almost sworn you had gone to sleep with panties on.

The car ride to your father’s bar was filled with unflattering tension. You had protested in vain that going with Aizawa wasn’t necessary, but had been met with a dismissive, “I don’t trust you to behave.”

“I’m not a child, Eraser. I don’t see why I couldn’t just sit at home.” You wobble behind your escort, heeled boots clacking against the gravel.

As you enter the building, a young mop of violet hair flanks Aizawa down with a stack of papers. The man is nameless to you but is familiar enough to be assumed under your father’s thumb.

Aizawa looks over the document’s now held in front of him with care, rolling up the sleeves to his crisp dress shirt as his eyes scan the pages. You note the shimmering silvered skin of a scar under his left eye, pronounced by the harsh lighting surrounding you. His hair is held up partially by a tie, the loose strands framing his face.

“Are you listening to me, little girl?” You're snapped back from watching his mouth curling around syllables to actually make out what they’ve been saying.

“Go sit down, I’ll only be a few minutes.” You nod along and turn to perch at the bar, but stop at the grip pulling you back for one final order. “Don’t get yourself into trouble.”

Aizawa leaves you to stew in the subtle brush of his pointer finger against the tender skin of your wrist, he rubs the skin subtly before disappearing to the back rooms.

The minutes ticking by are agonizing. Aizawa, usually the epitome of brief, has been gone long enough for the condensation on your glass to mar the wood below it in countless ringlets. You twirl the straw against the strawberry liquor, willing time to crank by faster with the action. The drink in your veins isn’t nearly enough to get you drunk but does make the opening of the front door unnoticeable.

Your back is facing the heavy wood, unaware of the two strangers now approaching until the curdling sound of one man’s voice hits the shell of your ear.

“Well, well, look what we have here. Why don’t I buy you a drink, princess?” Each man steals one of your sides, enclosing you into a tight, predatory huddle.

“This is my bar. I don’t need you to buy me anything.” You try to shake off the nauseating feeling of their bodies so close to you, gut twisting uncomfortably as one man’s breath crawls across your shoulder blades. They’re both so close. Too close.

“Wow, this little kitty cat’s got some claws, don’t she?” You feel hands curl around each bicep, a bruising grip right below your armpits. Your body is hoisted up, your balance off at the jarring upheaval.

Possible escape routes flash across your mind but all seem impossible. Would trying to shake off the still faceless strangers even work? And even if you sprung free, would you make it to the back office before they caught up? Should you try to scream? Would Aizawa hear you?

Before you can make any moves, you feel the flat side of a knife at your collarbone. A chill rattles down your spine at the contact, two inches of metal keeping your entire body compliant.

Their intent is clear, you’ll be coming with them, and by the sharp point of a blade digging into the first layer of skin-- you’ll be coming quietly.

A mixture of shock and disbelief compels your body into compliance, dragging you to the front door and closer towards an awaiting trunk.

“Your carriage, princess.” You hear the shorter man on your right, his voice at your neck sounds waterlogged through the blood rushing in your ears. Any protests die at the knife against your skin, digging in shallowly and pricking a small trail of red along your clavicle.

A sharp snap sounds behind you, like a piece of thin wood under a heavy boot. One of your captors falls in a pile next to you. You’re turned around to meet a familiar pair of venomous, black eyes, Aizawa’s words roll from his tongue with a growl.

You’re pulled at the wrist, stumbling back into the strong chest of your appointed bodyguard.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my bunny?”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#aizawa smut #aizawa x reader smut #aizawa x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #shouta aizawa #tw: somnophilia #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: weapons

[angellesword]

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (FINAL CHAPTER)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Warnings: none except kissing (There’s so much reconciliation happening in this chapter, lol)

Chapter’s OST: Magic Shop by 방탄소년단 (See English lyrics here)

Word Count: 3.9k

Series: CHAPTER 14 | CHAPTER 01

"I can't believe you got married," the smile you rendered to your brother was soft as you helped him fix his bow tie.

Taehyung hated bow ties, but he knew he had to endure wearing one today. It's his wedding day after all. Besides, ditching the said tie would definitely sadden his husband. It's something Taehyung couldn't afford to make the love of his life feel, mainly because Yoongi seemed very excited when he told Taehyung he designed their wedding outfits himself.

"I got married and I'm doing it all over again." Taehyung grinned back at you.

It's refreshing to see his boxy smile after many months of awkward eye contacts and tightlipped smiles.

Taehyung avoided you for a long time because he was embarrassed. He wasn't an idiot. He knew there's a part of you that blamed him for not being able to see your father for the last time. If he had only gone with you to Seoul, you'd probably be given a chance to say your goodbyes to Taemin, but alas, those days were over.

You just hoped your father was in a good place now. He deserved it even though he'd be shitty to you. You realized you didn't want to hold grudges any longer.

You hated the idea of spending your days filled with rage and pain. No. You didn't deserve it. They might not be worthy of your forgiveness, but you also didn't deserve to feel the heaviness in your chest just by thinking about them. Besides, those who hurt you and the people around you were already paying for their wrongdoings.

Namjoon and Hoseok often called to tell you what's happening in Seoul since you're already back here in New York. Apparently, there's already a verdict in Soojin's case. Your sister was deemed guilty for almost all criminal and civil cases she was facing. You also came to know that Sin-ae was pressed with charges for helping her daughter hide and destroy evidence in a crime. She wasn't incarcerated though. Sin-ae simply paid a fine of a few thousands of dollars.

Needless to say, her family's reputation was ruined. She sacrificed a lot of things just to maintain a good public image. She even went as far as tolerating you instead of going to court to sue her husband and your mother for concubinage. But in the end, she still lost.

She couldn't face the public with pride and joy anymore. Hoseok was the one who told you about this heartbreaking news. Namjoon didn't have the courage to do it. Sure, he helped your eldest brother, however it didn't mean he's guilt-free. There were times when he felt like he betrayed his own family, mainly because Sin-ae expressed her hatred towards him.

You suspected that the only reason why Namjoon called you and Taehyung was because he was afraid he's losing his mind. You and Taehyung were his only reminder that he did what's right. You wished Namjoon would learn to live with the decision he made too.

"Ah, I'm happy you didn't forget to invite me this time." You poked your brother's stomach as a response to his smug claim that he's getting married to the love of his life for the second time.

Yes, second time. Taehyung and Yoongi's family and friends demanded that they get married again. It's unfair that you all didn't get to attend the first time they did it.

"It's a spur-of-the-moment decision!" Your brother and his husband would argue every time you teased them about forgetting to inform you about this big decision.

Truthfully, you didn't really mind that they got married behind your back. What worried you was that you felt like your brother only agreed to marry Yoongi because he was lonely and grieving.

You see, it hadn't been a while since your father died. If you remembered it correctly, you only stayed in Seoul for three months after his death. The day you went back to New York was also the day you had learned your brother was married to Yoongi for almost a week already.

No one knew, not even Jimin. Your roommate rarely saw them after you went back to Seoul. He wanted to give Taehyung space, especially because Jimin was aware that your brother's way of coping up with pain was by pretending like the problem didn't exist at all. This was why he chose to go to New York after telling his family about his sexuality. He pretended like he didn't care about what they thought and that he was better off on his own, but deep inside, he was afraid too. He was scared to fuck up again, scared to push people because he might lose them in an instant. You guessed this was why he married your best friend. Maybe he was afraid he'd end up taking him for granted. After all, Yoongi had sacrificed many things in order to be with him.

But you didn't doubt Taehyung's feelings anymore. He wouldn't agree to marry Yoongi for the second time if he didn't love him, right? Besides, your brother willingly chose to move in with Yoongi even before they got married.

It was lonely to stay in your shared apartment with Jimin. He missed and felt sorry for you. It didn't help that your roommate kept calling you, reminding Taehyung of the mess at home that he chose to ignore.

Anyway, moving in with Yoongi was for the best. At least Taehyung wouldn't feel bad for disturbing you and Jimin anymore. He knew there were times your roommate just wanted to chill and watch movies in the living room, but he couldn't because Taehyung was sleeping on the couch.

Unfortunately there's a new person invading your apartment.

"Are you two ready?" Jungkook, the same person who was staying with you and Jimin for two days now, barged inside the dressing room, disturbing your little moment with Taehyung. "The guests are waiting and your husband is sweating so much. I think he just wants to kiss you and get this over with, Taehyungie-hyung."

Jungkook had an innocent look on his face that you didn't even realize that he's saying what he wanted to do with you right now: kiss you and bring you back to Seoul with him.

Two days ago was the first time he saw you in person after you left Seoul eight months ago. If Taehyung and Yoongi didn't invite him to the wedding, Jungkook wasn't sure what excuse to make to see you again.

Talking to you through the screen of his phone wasn't enough. He craved to be with you. It's unfair that Jimin, your other suitor, got to spend time with you while he was stuck in Seoul, thousands of miles away from you.

But little did Jungkook know, he had the advantage here. He's the one you loved, not Jimin. Your roommate accepted it already. He kept telling you it's okay, that you didn't owe him anything. Jimin knew from the very start that you only saw him as a friend. You also assured him there was someone out there who could return his feelings.

In fact, you felt like he had met her already. Chou Tzuyu, the pretty girl next door. He was Jimin's date today.

"Really?" Taehyung snorted but he was smug when he said, "but we literally just fucked two hours ago—"

"Please stop. I don't need to hear this." You pouted. Jungkook chuckled as he stepped closer to you, he was still keeping a fair distance though.

"And here I am, only allowed to see the girl I love on special occasions."

"Bloody hell. Are you two still playing this game?" Taehyung grunted, looking at you and Jungkook in disbelief. "Can't you just kiss and be together already?"

Heat travelled to your face upon hearing your brother’s complaint. Jungkook chuckled again.

"Don't look at me. I'm trying here..." He was. He always tried to win you over.

You're just stubborn.

"Enough about us. This is your day, oppa." With this, you and Jungkook both escorted your brother out of the dressing room.

Hoseok and Namjoon would be the one to walk Taehyung down the aisle. Sin-ae didn’t want to attend, she said she’d rather visit Soojin in jail. As for Seokjin, well, he also wanted to walk his brother down the aisle, but Yoongi asked him to officiate their wedding instead.

Seokjin and Yoongi were already waiting at the altar. The theme of this event was a garden wedding. You were in awe as you watched the couple exchange vows while surrounded by pretty flowers and colorful butterflies.

You're glad they're doing this. Taehyung and his husband first got married in Vegas. It was rushed and not as heartwarming as this one. At least today they got to see that their family and friends were very proud of them. In fact, Seokjin made the couple cry when he abruptly stopped his brother from putting a ring on Yoongi's finger.

Seokjin brought out a ring box. You all gasped when he opened it, revealing the traditional wedding ring of the Kims. It was passed to the eldest child every generation. It meant a lot to Taehyung that Seokjin was doing this, however your brother said it's not his decision alone.

Before Taemin died, he told Seokjin to hand the ring to Taehyung. It's baffling, considering the fact that Taemin spent years hating his son just because he was gay.

Seokjin didn't say but Taemin made this decision the day before the accident occurred. It's like their father knew he was going to die and that he wanted to apologize to Taehyung for not treating him right.

Taemin also instructed Seokjin to give you a certain box but your brother figured it's best to hand it to you after the wedding. The box contained the set of Farnsworth House LEGO Architecture—Jungkook's gift to you during your sixteenth birthday.

You remembered the time when you and your sister were fighting over it, with Soojin insisting that the gift belonged to her. Taemin confiscated it, saying that if you two couldn't share, then no one could have it.

You didn't mind sharing, just like how you didn't mind seeing Yoongi and Taehyung share a passionate kiss.

Your heart hurt but in a good way. It's remarkable to see the two people you loved find their way to each other's arms.

The ceremony ended with a round of applause and with Jungkook hugging and kissing your temple as he whispered how much he loved you.

The reception of the wedding was also in the same garden where the ceremony was held. The sun had set and now fairy lights illuminated the place.

It's romantic. You saw Jimin and Tzuyu dancing a few feet away from where you're standing. Your roommate's hands were wrapped around his date's waist. Jungkook was holding you like that too, or maybe your and Jungkook's position was more intimate. Your forehead was pressed against his. You could feel him nuzzling your cheek.

"Miss you, Tiger..." Your best friend murmured, lips trailing your cheek down to the side of your mouth.

You tightened your embrace to him as you admitted, "I miss you too, Kook." Because you did. More than so much. Seeing him now made you feel like you could finally breathe.

You didn't know how you survived the past months without him by your side.

"You do?" Jungkook hummed, his voice was innocent and full of hope as he continued asking you a question. "Will you come home with me, then?"

"I have work here, Kook.."

"So quit and accept my proposal." He grumbled and kissed the side of your mouth once more, hoping that it's enough to coax you.

Jungkook built his own architectural firm. He proposed to you, saying that he wanted to run the company with you. A professional partnership. You two were competent enough to do this.

His proposal was lame though. You told him he needed to make a concrete business plan to convince you to accept the job. So far, all his proposals didn't spark excitement.

"Please, baby, I can't spend one more day away from you." He was begging, big doe eyes and all. "Just give me more time and I'll perfect that business plan."

You threw your head back and laughed. You actually laughed because he was adorable and because you were insanely in love with him too.

"You have a month, Architect Jeon." You said, finally relenting.

"Yes!" Jungkook briefly let go of you to punch the air. He was so excited you could literally see his body shaking.

"I only need two more weeks, baby..."

You did it.

You really quit your job and went back to Seoul with Jungkook. Admittedly, you were thrilled but at the same time, you were scared to death.

You were officially jobless now. You knew Hoseok wouldn't hesitate to hire you but you didn't want to live your life like that. You helped him break the chain when your father died. You couldn't create another one.

Apart from this, you trusted Jungkook. He said he needed fourteen days to show you that his firm was viable. You had no doubt about this, but as a future partner, you should learn how to practice professional skepticism.

"Is the blindfold really necessary?" You groaned at Jungkook, already pissed because he disturbed your peaceful morning at your eldest brother's place.

You were staying at Hoseok's apartment again. It's difficult to find a place of your own. If you were to become Jungkook's partner at the firm, then you would need to find a home near the office building.

Jungkook's architectural firm was situated on the fourth floor of Queens Building. Architect Jeon decided to rent a space first because his business was just starting. He started operating ten months ago. Perhaps he could buy a piece of land if you chose to form a professional partnership with him.

"It is. I told you this will determine my future with you." Jungkook said as he guided you.

Today was the day he'd present his business plan. He said it took him more than eight months to finish the proposal. However you weren't sure if this was still a proposal because your jaw dropped the moment he removed your blindfold.

This wasn't a proposal.

Architect Jeon Jungkook literally built a shop for you.

"Welcome to Magic Shop, Tiger." Jungkook's grin was big as he beckoned you to enter the place.

You remained rooted in your spot though, still in awe. The facade of this shop was aesthetically pleasing. On the left side of the wooden door was a pot of red flowers. A display of books on the other hand, could be seen on the right side of the door.

You could also hear a pleasing melody as you roamed your eyes around the place. You realized the music was coming from the inside of the shop.

I know that you're hesitating because even if you say the truth in the end it will all return as scars

"Come on, Tiger..." Jungkook held your hand. He could feel fear radiating from you.

You were probably afraid to discover what he prepared for you.

I'm not going to say anything blatant like "find strength"

"Okay..." You sucked in a deep breath as you gripped his hand. Jungkook led you inside the shop.

The inside was better than what you saw outside. There were no other people here aside from you and him.

You let go of Jungkook's hand since you were excited to check out the whole place. Jungkook let you be, allowing you to explore what he built just to make you stay.

Jungkook watched as you picked up a book, flipping through the pages like you were interested to see what's written there.

But that's the thing.

There's nothing written there. The books had blank pages.

I will let you hear my story, let you hear it

The lyrics of the song demonstrated the very purpose of these books. Jungkook explained that people could come and go to this place, especially if they felt like the outside world was too much, like it was suffocating them.

What did I say?

They could grab a book and write down their stories.

I said you'd win, didn't I?

They could let out their emotions through writing. It didn't matter if they'd only share their worries because someday, Jungkook knew these people would come back.

I couldn't believe it (really)

They would come back and reread their entries, and then they'd realize that they made it.

Could I win it?

That they really won.

This miracle that isn't a miracle

They'd think it's a miracle, but really, it's on them. They worked hard, they didn't give up, and they pulled themselves from a very dark place.

Did we make it?

Just like what you did.

(No) I was here

Just like what your mother and the rest of her circle in the CA meeting did.

You wrote a single entry in the book before returning it to the shelf.

You were the one that made your way to me

Entry: I’m scared because I quit my job without thinking. No, wait. I did think. I thought about the person I love. He wants to be with me. I do too. He promised he'd stay with me.

I do believe your galaxy

And you believed him. You believed his galaxy, that it's going to shine bright and guide you.

I want to listen to your melody

Jungkook's way of saying that he was here for you was through murmuring I love you. This was his melody.

Your stars in the Milky Way

His doe eyes lit this world full of despair.

Don't forget that I found you anyways

Jungkook found you when you're suffering alone.

At the end of my despair

He didn't stop supporting you even when you pushed him away, even if you told him you didn't want him to fix you.

You're the last reason for me who was standing at the edge of the cliff

He would never let you jump off a cliff. He would stay there and inspire you to

Live

On days I hate being myself, days I want to disappear forever

But Jungkook learned his lesson. He understood what you meant when you said you didn't want to be fixed.

Let's make a door in your heart

So he literally made a door instead.

Open the door and this place will await. It's okay to believe, the Magic Shop will comfort you

A door that would lead you to a place where you could find comfort, a place where you wouldn't be forced to share and solve your problems at once.

You could just chill and take a break here.

While drinking a glass of hot tea

You went to the second floor of the Magic Shop, there's a corner where you could drink different kinds of tea. There were tables and chairs if ever you preferred to talk to someone and share to them your problems. This corner was for extroverts and those who felt comfortable talking to others.

And looking up at the Milky Way

There were bean bags as well. You could drink tea here alone while looking up at the sky shining with stars.

You'll be alright, oh, this here is the Magic Shop

"You'll be alright here, Tiger." Jungkook was standing behind you. He gave you a back-hug while you both enjoyed the fresh air in the veranda.

So show me (I'll show you)

"I built this place for you, baby. I won't force you to tell me things anymore..."

So show me (I'll show you)

"I won't try to solve your problem if you don't want me to..." He kissed your nape.

So show me (I'll show you)

"I won't try to fix you..."

Show you show you

"Because you're not a thing. You're a person who needs to feel and to heal."

Like a rose when blooming, like cherry blossoms when being scattered in the wind

You were going to bloom and stop hurting at your own pace and way. He would encourage you to spread your wings and fly, enjoying the wind.

My greed that was my weapon suffocated me and also became a leash,

"Thank you, Kook..." You turned to face him. Your eyes glistened with tears of joy.

You couldn't believe he still remembered what you said to him two years ago, the thing where you didn't want him to fix you.

You're also glad he understood what you meant. Jungkook understood the type of love you needed, but days ago, you asked him when he realized he loved you.

but looking back on it now, truthfully I feel like it's not true that I wanted to be the best

Jungkook said you had to wait for a few more days to know the answer. Today, you came to know his reason.

I wanted to become your comfort and move your heart. I want to take away your sadness, and pain

"I was a very selfish person before I met you. I used to believe that what's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine too."

You laughed at that. It sounded like little Jungkook. If Jong-in was alive, he'd probably nod his head in agreement.

"But just by looking at you makes me want to give you everything already, you know?"

Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?

"That's what love is for me. To offer you everything, but I learned what truly matters. I don't have to sacrifice and break myself for love. All I want now is to simply be your comfort, the shoulder you can use to lean on. That's the love I want to receive too."

Jungkook was saying the time you two spent away from each other made him realize what he wanted too. He tried to put himself in your shoes, making him realize that he wouldn't want you to take the blame and do everything for him.

He just needed you to stay with him while he fixed himself. He knew now that this was what you desired as well.

"So to answer your question why I love you. Well, it's because—" He swallowed hard as he stared deep in your soul. "You gave me the best of me."

He learned not to be selfish but also to not offer his one hundred percent to someone, that he should still leave some love for himself too.

"And I know you'll give you the best of you too." Was the major realization he came to know as to why you didn't need to be fixed.

You'd do it yourself. You'll find it, the galaxy inside you at some point.

"I love you, Tiger..."

You pulled Jungkook closer and then you caressed his cheeks.

Your eyes twinkled as you responded, "I love you too, Kook," and then you kissed him.

Jungkook melted, the worry engulfing him evaporated. He wasn't scared anymore because the kiss you shared made him know an unspoken communication between the two of you. It went like this:

"So show me..."

"I'll show you..."

- END -

BONUS: LETTER WRITTEN BY KIM TAEMIN FOR OC

Thank you guys so much for reading this fic. <333 I love you all! 

Please stay tuned for a new JJK fic!

Preview of BST: Jeon Jungkook was the very definition of that fictional fawn named Bambi: brown doe eyes, innocent, and a prey—something you hated about him. He was so weak. Seriously. The boy needed to grow a spine, luckily you had an idea to do just that. 

 The plan was to send him on a mission where he would be forced to defend himself, but surprise, surprise. Jungkook fucked up, causing  him to become the complete opposite of Bambi: red eyes, corrupted mind, and a...predator.

 Jungkook was a vampire and he might just bite you. 

 Alternatively: 

 “My blood, sweat, and tears. This is a spell that will punish me.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x yn #jungkook best friend #jungkook best friends to lovers #best friend jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook romance #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #armywriterssupport