#but it could be considered multiple quirks too

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

[werecreature-addicted]

An Idea of a F!Human working at a ranch((farm?? Idk what you call it)) but a big farm((??)) Like place with lots of acres, and a barn, and all the classic farm stuff.

And she also works with Minotaurs, and centaurs and other sturdy creatures that hang around farms.

But in this world humans are a little bit... Not trusted?? I don't know the word. But they're not trusted because they're known to be cruel to any intelligent life that isn't human, so the Minotaurs, Centaurs, werewolves and all these other creatures are very wary of her only to find out she is a sweetheart.

I'm sorry if this is a bit jumbled, I'm not a good writer but I thought you'd might like the idea 😭

PS. She works with the animals, since all the big sexy beasts do all the heavy lifting and crap ☺️☺️

PS 2. If you do go on with this.. maybe could you like.. hint at a minotaur romance if that's okay?? You don't have too though.

a monster-fuckers guide to ranching.

Most monsters have possessive/ territorial tendencies, it's best to keep males of the same species apart so there's no fighting. While some monsters are territorial they can form bonds or symbiotic relationships with other creatures. For example: harpies and dragons tend to get along, if the two are close the dragon might even let the harpy eat meat from between their teeth. And of course, almost all monster species can form bonds with humans or at least, tolerate human handlers in their space.

The main exception to this rule of thumb is Centaurs. Centaurs travel in big heard usually with 2-5 stallions, and while they handle others of their own species well they are particularly hostile to outside monsters encroaching on their territory.

Werewolves travel in packs and while they are still territorial, they are considered one of the more "friendly" species of monster, which may sound laughable to anyone who's had a werewolf take a snap at them, but as always It's important to remember not to judge monsters by human standards.

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

It's rare to find such a wide variety of monsters, the ranch spans hundreds of Aceres to accommodate them all and has countless workers to make sure all of their needs are met.

All of the monsters are a little cool and skittish around you at first as one of the senior workers introduced you to all of the inhabitants. slowly but surely they get used to your scent and they slowly warm up to you.

Most people treat the work like... well, work, but you seem to have a real passion for taking care of the monsters. You learn each of the monsters' names and the little quirks of their individual personalities, they've never had a handler as sweet as you. You quickly become a favorite of most of the monsters at the ranch.

Usually, it's nice being so popular, then heat season comes and multiple monsters are yowling for you to come and help them and suddenly it's a little more stressful.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia

[messylustt]

a distraction? — miguel o’hara. drabble based on this writing prompt request.

your fingers tightened around your mission report as you made your way into miguel’s office. as always he’s stood, busy swiping and tapping at the multiple screens, different lights reflecting onto his monotoned face.

“uh, miguel?” you call. your sweet tone has his ears perking up as if he’s some dog. like always a scowl sets on his face at his own reaction to you. “mission report.” you slightly hold up the file in your hand as he finally turns his head to look at you.

cold. that’s all you feel and that’s all you see in his expression. maybe if you looked close enough, dared to actually look him in the eyes you’d see something far from a considered ‘chilling’ word. he lets his body drop down in front of you, grabbing the report.

“did you catch him?” miguel asks, briefly flipping through the papers. “i think i’d be pretty ballsy coming in here if i didn’t” you lightly chuckle.

miguel glances up his expression not having shifted as you press your lips together, quieting yourself. “yes, he’s all locked up”

“good. lyla.” he calls, the bubbly ai appearing by his shoulder “add this to the reports”

she mockingly salutes, earning your lips to quirk up a fraction, before she disappears with your report. “any troubles?” miguel’s almost strict undertone, makes your almost smile fall.

“none that needs accounting for.” there had been a small incident where the anomaly had gotten a hold of your wrist watch. it’s now partially smashed, and in the hands of hobie. you didn’t think you had the best of luck when it came to miguel so you decided it best to let hobie try and fix it before alerting miguel of your mistake.

“hm.” miguel hums, his gaze darting. what you didn’t know was that miguel couldn’t help but let every detail of you sink in. every time he saw you his eyes traced the same path. and when his gaze trailed along your wrist he paused. “where’s your wrist watch?”

you look down at your bare wrist. “oh, i just took it off. got a bit…irritating.” miguel’s eyes narrow as you try not to visibly gulp. “so, uh, if that’s all…” you go to step back, but miguel’s hand reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, simultaneously pulling you back (even closer than before), as his hand brings your wrist up to his face.

you slightly stiffen at the contact, brows furrowing. miguel brushes a claw over your wrist earning your muscles to twitch. he takes note of this. and drawing back your suit he’s presented with a discoloured bruise, wrapped around your arm in a circle. “what’s this?”

“normal…anomaly catching…injuries.” you say, your tone attempting to sound convincing. miguel’s claw brushes back along your wrist, his gaze now narrowed.

“it’s where your wrist watch was.” miguel states.

“as i said, it was getting irritating.” you subtly try to pull your hand back, but miguel’s grip is strong and strangely persistent.

“you lost it.” miguel remarks.

you scoff. “no i didn’t lose it.”

then miguel clocks on. “you broke it.”

“alright well — i didn’t break it.” as if that would change much. miguel met your gaze with a slight raise to his brow, as you sigh. “i didn’t mean for him to get to it. i just got too…close. and then he was grabbing my wrist. broken wrist watch, bruised skin, so on.” you mutter. “but it’s handled.”

“handled?” he still hasn’t let your wrist go.

“yeah, it’s getting fixed. and it’ll be as good as new soon.” you remark standing a little straighter.

miguel’s gaze hasn’t shifted from your eyes, his focus a little too intense. “why were you so close?”

“sorry?”

“the anomaly. why’d you need to be that close?” miguel elaborates.

“oh, well…uh…we needed a distraction.” you mutter out, not meeting his gaze. “so, that the other spiders could get all this guys gadgets and stuff. so he’d be weaponless.”

“and?” miguel pushes.

“and…i seemed to be voted the best candidate.”

“to do what, exactly?” everything about miguel hasn’t wavered.

you slightly nibble on your lower lip, actually a fraction embarrassed by this. “just to, you know…flirt…a little bit.” you instantly wince as miguel’s grip on your wrist tightened.

“i’m sorry?” he remarks, coldly.

“as a distraction. it surprising worked…for a bit. before he clocked on when I leant away and — ”

“leant away?” for the first time you can actually catch a proper emotion in miguel’s tone. “how close were you, y/n?”

your tongue brushes along your teeth. “like…” you demonstrate by lifting your hand in front of your face, and slowly closing the distance.

as miguel watches just how close you had gotten, his jaw clenches. “so, you’re telling me that in order for you to catch this anomaly you brought him this close…” miguel provides his own demonstration, pulling you in by your wrist as you slightly stumble into him, your faces inches apart, making your breathing hitch. “is that right?”

you slowly nod. “we catch dangerous anomalies, not flirt with them.” he says.

“it was only so that we could catch him.” you say a little too quietly as your breath hits miguel’s face. “right.” he mutters, his tongue dragging along the roof of his mouth, clearly agitated.

“and what was your plan after the flirting? i mean if you got this close, i’m sure you would have had a plan.” miguel’s tone is dripping with mocking as he tries not to snarl out the words.

you assume that he’s pissed because it undermines what the spider society is made for. when in reality, miguel just doesn’t want a man to be close to you. “you aren’t stupid, y/n. usually this kinda distance…means something.”

you’ve noticed the change in your breathing, as you stare at miguel. if you leant the smallest fraction forward your lips would be touching his. “so, is that what you planned? to kiss him?”

you can’t help but feel flushed at his words, your embarrassment clear. “of course not.”

“you said you leant away.” he begins to lean forward, your lips parting a fraction as your mouth salivates. “is that right?”

you quickly nod. “he’s an anomaly. i wouldn’t have just…kissed him.”

“mhm.” but miguel isn’t stopping, his lips now slightly parted in front of yours. “just because he was an anomaly?”

your silence makes miguel’s grip shift to your back, forcing you to arch into him, as a small misstep of breath leaves your lips. you’re now extremely close. “no.” he answers for you. miguel doesn’t know how he’s gotten you this close, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to step back.

“you wouldn’t have kissed him because you don’t like him.” he speaks slowly, almost telling you that that’s how your answer should be. “you don’t like anyone right?” his claw has shifted from your wrist to a small strand of your hair. he’s now too far gone.

“what?” your eyes are fluttering as you stare at miguel, still inches away.

“i'll admit...you're peeking my interest....and that's not good…” he mutters out, half speaking to you half getting it off his chest.

you’re in shock, miguel’s lips now faintly brushing yours, mouth open. “not good at all…”

but before he can finally close the distance a loud bang resonates around the room, from what sounds to be the opening of a door. you immediately manage to shove miguel away, fixing yourself. you tried your best not to look flustered as peter emerges. “hey, miguel — oh, hey, y/n.” peter smiles, oblivious to your heaving chest and miguel’s deathly glare.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

#. ( spidey mark ) #the miguel effect #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #atsv #atsv x reader #jealous!miguel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #spiderverse

[jyoongim]

Hi there,

OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING!

If requests are still open I was thinking of an idea. I was kinda inspired by the scene in Hazbin Hotel where Val is squinting at the tv and saying “who the f$&@ is that?”

But my idea is instead it’s Vox seeing Alastor escorting the reader around town, having coffee etc. so Vox sees an opportunity to get to Alastor by abducting the reader and broadcasting it to the hotel that they have her/him. Of course Al gets pissed seeing then hurt the reader and saves them.

Doesn’t have to be romantic, maybe more that Alastor considers then a rare friend and is very protective.

Anyway, let me know what you think.

Thank you!!

warnings: fem!reader kidnapping, attempted SA, Vox being a piece of shit, platonic friendship

“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?” Vox growled as he stared at his many monitors.

 What had caught his eye was that fucker Alastor.

But oh the red demon wasn’t alone, no, hanging on the arm of the Radio Demon was a pretty doe.

You smiled as you chatted to the demon, eyes sparkling before pouting at whatever he had told you.

You leaned your head on his shoulder happily as the two of you walked down the street. 

Valentino took a puff from his cigar, smirking ”Ooh ooo seems like Alastor got himself a pretty lady while he was gone”

Vox had caught sight of you multiple times. Ever since Alastor came back, you were always by Alastor’s side, not once had he seen you alone.

He watched as Alastor took you to multiple places; cafes, shopping, showing you around Pentagram City.

You must have been something real special if the Radio Demon kept you around.

It would be ashamed if Alastor’s little pet went missing now wouldn’t it……

You groaned as you came to. You blinked,  clearing the haze from your sight as you gathered your senses.

You went to move, but found yourself bound and gagged. 

Your eyes widened how the fuck did this happen?

The last thing you remembered was leaving the hotel to buy a few things and being grabbed from behind.

You shivered. Looking down, you saw that you were dressed in rather provocative clothing. You looked around, there were cameras, monitors, and horny demons in the room all set on you.

You started to hyperventilate as tears welled in your eyes, where were you? 

“Aaahh there she is” a voice purred, a cold hand grabbed your chin,making you come face to face with Vox.

Your tears dried up immediately as your brow quirked at him

”now you might be confused dear but don’t fret, I’m not gonna hurt you too bad. Just need to get my point across. How will Alastor feel seeing his little pet ruined” he chuckled darkly.

You growled at him through the gag. 

He sat on a chair and grinned into the monitor

”This is a message to that old timer prick!” The monitor flashed your bound body, wriggling around as multiple demons started the touch you.

”I’ve got your pretty pet, oh don’t worry Ill send her back to you…but i fear she wont be quite the same” Vox laughed.

Charlie and the gang watched in shocked. Why the hell would Vox take you?

A dark aura filled the room as static buzzed loudly. 

“Well it seems I am needed elsewhere” the red demon grinned, smile tense and menacing.

Alastor disappeared in the depths of his shadows.

You panted as you were surrounded by demons. Your face was bruised and blood dripped from your mouth from being striked.

Your gag had been removed by a demon attempting to use your mouth and you had chomped his dick off, resulting in a harsh slap.

”I say we fuck her til she bleeds or even better dead” a demon growled.

You hissed and before one could make a grab at you, the lights blinked.

Dark misty shadows filled the room and you smiled as a voice growled from them.

”Now thats no way to treat a lady”

Alastor.

The demons tried to rush him, but his tentacles shot out and ripped every single one of them apart.

He stalked towards Vox and you had never seen Alastor so enraged.

He had the monitor glitching as he beat him to a pulp.

He powered him down and made his way over to you.

Taking you into his arms, he cooed to you “Oooh my dear I do apologize for the horrid display, i hope you were too uncomfortable”

He materialized your clothing to be more conservative and walked you out of the Vs’ building. 

“Thank you Al” you whispered burying your face in his chest

He chuckled “Ooh anything for you my dear”

Let’s just say, Alastor accompanied you anywhere you went after that.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hi, I have a request if you don't mind...

Any of the batboys [Or poly with all of them ;)] with an ultra-feminine Reader, with a filthy *wink* *wink* mouth.

She is very into dresses, makeup, dressing up and everything that is considered 'girly', and their mate just thinks she will be all soft and innocent too, how most guys think "Just how females are supposed to be" (Obv, not the bat boys cause they love their women all loud and powerful)

But she literally has the wildest, dirtiest, most unhinged thoughts and just says them without a second thought

and the first time it happens, during IC dinner, she says a string of swears or just says the most sexual thing to her mate and everyone in the IC eyes them and Nesta/Elain (who was a little cold to her for whatever reason) just goes "Ok I was wrong, I love this bitch"

Dirty mouth.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; SWEARING :') , suggestive

Masterlist.

Hello I really hope this is what you had in mind! I had so much fun writing this! If you don't like it you can always ask me to rewrite it I won't get offended. Hope you enjoy it! <3

When you first met Azriel, and the bond snapped you felt like the luckiest female in the world. The shadowsinger was the best mate someone could wish for, he treated you like a queen and even though it had only been six months since you accepted the bond, you felt like you knew everything about him.

You couldn’t say the same for him though since you decided to keep your bolder personality hidden not wanting to scare him away. Azriel only saw a female who cared about clothes and shopping with her friends, he told you how sweet and delicate you are multiple times and always tried to be soft in bed. At first you enjoyed all the protectiveness and affection but as the months passed you decided to stop overthinking before you spoke and let Azriel see who you really are.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should try these cookies, I got them from the new bakery” Feyre exclaimed and placed a big box on the dining table.

You were in the dining room at the house of wind with the inner circle, Azriel was sitting next to you with one protective wing wrapped around you.

Everyone took a cookie, including your mate who took a bite and let a soft moan.

“What was that?” Cassian chuckled.

“Oh he really likes it, that's the noise he makes when I suck his cock” you giggled.

Azriel choked on the cookie, Rhysand and Cassian gaped at you and the girls burst into laughter. You quirked a brow at Nesta who always gave you a hard time and she winked.

“What did you say?” Azriel asked when he stopped choking.

“That’s how you moan when I suck your cock just before you finish in my thro…” he covered your mouth with his palm and stared at you wide-eyed.

Nesta went hysteric and shouted, “okay I love you”.

That was the first time Azriel saw your true self and as the days passed and you made more comments like that and started cursing too his whole attitude changed and he finally started treating you like he wasn’t afraid of breaking you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were in a meeting with the inner circle and Eris to find a way to kill Beron, the Autumn heir though kept making offensive comments to your mate and you could feel your patience running thin.

“How does it feel to be touched by those disgusting hands?” Eris asked you and silence filled the room.

“Most of the times I squirt” you replied with a smirk. Eris frowned while Azriel’s breath hitched.

“What happened lordling? Cat got your tongue, or you just can’t process the fact that the shadowsinger fucks better than you?” you teased him and got up.

You grabbed the Truth-Teller from your mate and approached Eris.

“Do you know how many times he has fucked me with this?” you asked and touched the tip of the dagger on his cheek. Rhys tensed but Cassian grabbed his shoulder with a proud look.

Azriel’s face flushed, and he gaped at the scene in front of him.

“Do you want to have the honor to feel this inside you too?” you asked, and he shook his head, his face paled.

“Then I suggest shutting your fucking mouth before I sew it.” You growled and walked back to your mate.

The meeting finished after a while and Azriel cupped your jaw staring deep in your eyes

“You never fail to amaze me” he mumbled and kissed you “but to be honest you are scaring me a bit” he continued and smiled.

“And you haven’t seen all of me yet” you replied and pecked his nose before exiting the office, leaving a very worried shadowsinger inside.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time it happened you were having a game night with your friends, you and Azriel were winning but Cassian and Nesta were close behind only two points away.

“You have 7 red” Nesta said.

“Siphons” Cassian exclaimed.

“Oh and Azriel’s siphons are..”

“Blue”

“Time!” Feyre said.

“It’s a tie” Rhysand announced.

“Oh come on those were so easy like asking him what his name is” you protested and Azriel chuckled.

“No I’m just better than you” Cassian teased you.

“Oh fuck off brute” you scoffed, Azriel spat his wine and stared at you.

“Seriously you have to warn me before you do that.” He mumbled and grabbed a napkin.

“Does it hurt to share the victory you little bitch?” Cassian smirked.

“Does it hurt to know that your mate fakes it every night?” Cassian turned to Nesta who was laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re a cocksucker” He shouted and winked to show that he was just messing with you.

“And a good one, ask Azriel” your mate shook his head and glanced at Feyre who was covering Nyx' ears.

After a small fist fight with Cassian, you both burst into laughter and hugged.

“You act like babies” Rhysand spoke. “Shut up” you and Cassian said simultaneously making the high lord lean his head back with a desperate look on his face.

“Okay I think you had enough wine for tonight my little cocksucker” Azriel teased and grabbed your shoulders “Let’s get you in bed”.

“I will show you how good I am” you winked and let him guide you into your shared bedroom ignoring Cassian’s gags.

After a while Azriel got used to your dirty mouth and the way you threatened whoever disrespected him and actually enjoyed it. He felt good having someone to protect him for a change and fight his battles. A few months later he noticed that he started cursing more and was horrified when he realized that he was acting like you, later he started making vulgar comments too and everyone groaned “Now we have two of them”. You had never felt prouder for your mate.

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #rhysand #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #shadowsinger x reader #night court #inner circle #acotar fanfic #cassian acotar #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta acotar #nesta x cassian #the night court #velaris #city of starlight #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #acowar #acomaf

[novlr]

can you give tips on how to change up character dialogue? all of my characters end up sounding the same and i'm not sure how to fix it

How to Write Unique Voices for Characters in Fiction

When it comes to writing fiction, creating unique and believable characters is absolutely essential. One important aspect of character development is crafting unique voices that reflect each character’s personality and background.

Understand your characters

Before you can write distinct voices for your characters, it’s important to understand who they are. Building out a solid foundation and developing compelling backstories is one of the best ways to ensure they always have unique voices. Here are some tips for getting to know your characters:

Write character sketches that detail their backgrounds, personalities, goals, and motivations.

Conduct interviews with your characters as if they were real people, asking them about their likes and dislikes, fears, goals, and more (the Proust questionnaire is a popular way to do this).

Imagine how your characters’ past experiences will change how they speak in different situations and when experiencing varied emotions.

Use description to enhance your characters’ voices

Descriptions can be just as important as dialogue when it comes to creating character voices. Here are some tips for using descriptions to enhance your characters’ personalities:

Use specific details to create vivid descriptions of each character’s body language, mannerisms, and behaviour.

Consider how each character’s mannerisms might influence their speech patterns. For example, a character who is shy might be hesitant to speak or repeat themselves frequently.

Pay attention to how your characters interact with their environment. Do they use their hands a lot when they speak? Do they pace around the room or sit still?

Use sensory details to create immersion. For example, a character who is nervous might sweat profusely or fidget with their jewellery.

Avoid stereotypes and clichés

When writing unique voices for characters, it’s important to avoid falling back on stereotypes or clichés. Here are some tips for creating characters that feel fresh and authentic:

Avoid using dialects or accents. Not only do these often rely on stereotypes, but they also break reader immersion unless authenticity is absolutely essential to the type of book you are writing.

Consider how each character’s background and experiences might influence their beliefs and values. One-dimensional characters built on clichés won’t have unique voices.

Think outside of the box when it comes to creating distinct voices. Instead of relying on traditional archetypes, consider combining traits from multiple sources to create something new.

How to craft unique dialogue

With the basics in place, how do we convert unique character voices into dialogue? Here are some tips for writing dialogue that feels authentic and unique to each character:

Read your dialogue out loud to hear how it sounds, and make sure it’s true to how you imagine your character to be.

Give your characters a unique conversational quirk that feels natural. An example could be that they call everyone “love.”

Vary the length and complexity of sentences to reflect each character’s personality and background.

Consider how each character’s education and experiences might influence their vocabulary and sentence structure.

Use dialogue tags sparingly to avoid detracting from the actual words being spoken.

Avoid using too much exposition or explaining too much in dialogue. Instead, let the characters speak when it serves your story.

By understanding your characters, crafting unique dialogue, using descriptions to enhance character voices, and avoiding stereotypes and clichés, you can create vibrant, engaging characters that will keep readers hooked from start to finish.

#writers #creative writing #writing #writers of tumblr #writing community #creative writers #writing inspiration #writeblr #writerblr #writing tips #writblr #writing advice #writing resources #writers block #writers on tumblr #creative writing resources #writer resources #writing dialogue #character development #character voices #unique characters #helping writers #writing help #learn to write #writer things

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

The hospital was shockingly easy to break into, though Dabi supposed it was more due to it being built for keeping mentally ill people with quirk restraints in as opposed to keeping villain terrorists with full access to their quirks out. A distinct oversight considering exactly which top ranking hero's wife was being housed there.

All Dabi had to do was burn open a hole in a metal fence hidden behind an overgrown bush (and if he almost set fire to said bush multiple times in the process that was nobody's business but his) and then climb a particularly perilous tree, shimmy across an extremely narrow and dubiously sturdy ledge, and slide the window open with one hand, all the while clutching a bouquet of blue rindous in the other.

Easy.

No sweat.

He could do it with his eyes closed. Probably. At least he'd say he could if anyone asked, which they wouldn't, because if anyone found out that the A rank cremation villain Dabi was breaking into a hospital to leave Endeavour's wife flowers every few weeks they'd be too concerned about the fact that they were now burning to death to ask any further questions.

Dabi always frowned slightly whenever the window slid open without resistance. The hospital still hadn't fixed the latch, which was great for Dabi since he wouldn't have to break it again, but he couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed by the hospital's incompetence.

Didn't they know just about any unwanted creep could crawl through a fence, climb up a tree, shimmy across a ledge, and climb into this window? If he weren't a highly wanted criminal of secretive origins he'd write a formal complaint.

Maybe he should just murder whoever was in charge of security, they might be replaced with someone who actually cared for the safety of their patients. He tucked that idea away for later.

For now he had to focus on making sure Rei Todoroki was asleep and wouldn't notice him, she was usually out like a light at this time of night, she hadn't even stirred that one time a piece of ledge dislodged beneath Dabi's foot and he let out a rather undignified squeak of terror. Maybe she was being sedated, he hoped it was willingly, he didn't dwell on that thought, it wasn't as though he could do anything about it if it wasn't.

He could see the outline of her body under the covers from the little amount of light provided by a streetlight beyond the boundary fence, no movement, good.

The vase was still on the windowsill, excellent, one time it had been moved to the bedside table and he'd almost had to crawl right inside to reach it.

Dabi pulled out the old wilted rindous and laid them down beside the vase before carefully passing the fresh flowers from one hand to the other, shifting his grip on the windowsill, leaving his body vulnerable to the unforgiving laws of gravity for a brief moment. He cursed his weak stomach as it lurched violently at the minor jolt, it didn't matter how often he did this, it made its displeasure known each and every time.

He tucked the flowers into the vase and gave the still figure on the bed one last glance before getting ready to shimmy back across the ledge. Something about her looked... odd, misshapen almost, maybe she'd gone to bed with her dressing gown still on. Strange since she didn't normally feel the cold.

He didn't have the luxury of dwelling on the thought, the nurses could be around for check in any minute, agonisingly they were never on a regular schedule.

He had just shuffled away from the window when fingers as cold as his own suddenly wrapped around his wrist. He spun his head so fast he nearly lost his balance, but the grip on his wrist kept him steady against the wall.

Steely grey eyes latched onto his as Rei Todoroki leaned halfway out the window, holding onto him tight.

"Touya." she breathed, expression bright and almost smug. "I knew it, I knew it was you. They said I was delusional , that you were dead, that Enji must be leaving the flowers, but he never remembered my favourites, but you knew, you always picked them out of the garden for me."

Dabi froze, mouth slightly ajar as a denial danced on the tip of his tongue, his reason keeping it at bay.

No, I'm just some random villain breaking onto hospital grounds to leave you flowers, Touya who? Like shit she'll buy that.

Instead he tugged half heartedly at his wrist.

"Let go." he growled.

"Don't leave me Touya." Rei almost sobbed, her grip tightening.

"Let go mum." said Dabi, his voice weaker this time.

"Touya please," he could see tears starting to glisten in the corners of her eyes under the pale streetlight. "Don't leave me."

No no don't you cry don't you dare cry, because if you start I'll start and the last thing you need to see right now is the fucked up living corpse of your son bleeding from the eyes.

Rei's grip was bruising, he could almost hear his wrist creak under the pressure. She probably wasn't even gripping that hard, as tough as he acted there was a reason Dabi stuck to long range attacks, his body was barely more than a brittle bag of bones, a stiff breeze could dislocate his joints, especially with how many times he'd popped his own wrists out of place to slip out of handcuffs.

"If I stay I'll be caught." he argued, wriggling his wrist more urgently, maybe if she felt it pop she'd let go. "I have to go."

"He won't let me leave." Rei said, her words coming in a breathless rush, frantic, desperate. "The doctors cleared me months ago but he won't let me leave Touya. Fuyumi tried everything, Natsuo tried everything, and Shouto wants to help but he's just a child."

Her eyes were wide with panic, the more Dabi pulled away the further she leaned dangerously out the window.

"And what the fuck am I supposed to do?" Dabi hissed, almost on the verge of panic himself, "I'm a criminal, a villain, you think anyone's gonna listen to me?"

"You're the only one left who can help me." Rei's voice was as steady as her hand. "I need you Touya."

Dabi very very much did not like how effectively those words punched the air from his lungs. Needed, she needed him, not Fuyumi, not Natsuo, not even perfect precious Shouto, she needed him. The failure, the fuckup.

No fuck you, you are not that pathetic, get it together you idiot.

"What do you want?" Dabi asked, his voice almost pleading as he kept tugging at his wrist, it still hadn't popped out, of all the times for his joints to behave themselves.

Rei leaned so far over the ledge that for a moment he almost thought she had lost balance, she stared at him with a burning intensity.

"Get me the fuck out of here."

edit: there is now a part two!

#lula's mha brainrot #lula's fanfics #whaaaat I'm putting one of the thousand fanfics in my head down on paper? #it's a christmas miracle #mha #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #dabi #touya todoroki #rei todoroki

[festive]

✿ - cyno x fem!reader

content+warnings: fem!reader, pet names used, established relationships, vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, use of vibrators, multiple orgasms.

✿ - a/n: posted on my ao3 a few days ago, decided to post here. anyways more scholar!reader x cyno. happy holidays, y’all!

++ tagging: @bubble4u @thicksimpx

Cyno's been worried about you; lately, he's overheard from the other students just how hard you've been working — day in and day out, dedicating yourself to your studies; even Faruzan had mentioned you once or twice to him in hopes that he could help.

Although, as clever as Cyno was, not even he knew what he could do — yeah, Cyno could play mother hen and tell you not to overwork yourself, but even he knows you're way too stubborn to listen, and you would probably shrug him off with 'just five more minutes.

Not knowing how he could help, he turned to a friend. He's thankful he caught Kaveh when he did, much to the blonde's dismay seeing as how Kaveh was complaining about being locked out again.

But considering how fond of Cyno, Kaveh was, as soon as he heard the dilemma, he was more than willing to help. He had given the smaller male plenty of solutions, yet they all led him to the same place.

A foreign goods vendor on the outskirts of the bazaar, that's what the eccentric blonde had told him.

Cyno walks around mindlessly, his eyes falling on all the different shops and trinkets that decorate the way. From the candy to the freshly baked goods, he'd bring you some later as a treat after he buys what he needs first.

Cyno did a fantastic job brushing off all the cowering looks he received from countless people, wondering what archon-forsaken thing sent him to the bazaar. Even with his disguise, the jackal ears that stood proudly on his hood were very distinguishable.

Look for the stand on the furthest part of the bazaar. It's hard to miss. Kaveh's words ring through Cyno's head. The stand on the most distant part.. he murmurs.

And sure enough, after walking for what felt like hours. There stood the shop, hidden behind two other stalls, draped in deep purple and golden clothes — although nothing distinguished this seller from the others.

"Are you the shopkeeper?"

He's greeted by a taller woman that dwarfed him completely in height, with darker skin — long purple hair that was parted down the middle, but what stood out the most was the pair of long, fluffy ears that protruded proudly from her head, reminiscent of Tighnari's, and the geo vision that rested upon her neck.

"Why yes, you're correct, young general mahamatra," Cyno quirks an eyebrow, and the woman laughs, pushing aside the candles and other exotic goods across the counter. "I am Sheba. I've heard all about you from Kaveh,"

Sheba, as she calls herself, ducks underneath her desk. Cyno can hear her fumbling with whatever's under there — watching as her puffy tail sways back and forth until she finally gets up.

"I have exactly what you need," Her cerulean eyes beam, lighting up in joy as she places an item on the counter, nearly pushing it into Cyno's hold.

Cyno glances at it expectantly, snatching it off the counter.

It looks like it's made of the same advanced technology the ruin guards are made of, he thinks — knowing exactly what their reactor cores look like, he finds it odd how the device has the same designs.

"Is this a weapon?" Cyno asks, curiously looking over the wand-shaped item he was handed — the object's outline reflecting in his ruby-red eyes. Cyno's seen many odd devices, runes, and mechanisms, but nothing compares to this. He continues examining it, checking for any blades.

The merchant laughs, nearly doubling over in amusement. "Hah, surely you jest?" Then, wiping at her eyes as water collects around the edges.

Cyno stares at her blankly, lips formed into a straight line before summoning his weapon. Sheba jumps, eyes locking onto the sharp blade of his polearm.

"Ahaha, no need for violence. Here, allow me to demonstrate," cautiously Sheba gestures towards the device, palm shakily reaching forward until finally, Cyno places the object in her palms. She chooses her following words wisely, she's heard of all the rumors and tales that circled the General Mahamatra, and she was determined not to be the next story in the tavern.

"Look," Sheba says while pushing one of the buttons. Cyno watches as the device's intrinsic designs glow before it starts up, the blunt end of the object vibrating furiously. "See, like this," The woman laughs awkwardly, trying to save her hide.

"I see,"

To further sell her point, she starts talking about how advanced the piece of technology is. "It's popular amongst the women in Fontaine. In fact," She drawls, watching as Cyno looms in closer. "they all recommended this as their best way to relieve built-up stress."

It's working. Cyno's further intrigued; his ears perk up when she mentions the stress part.

"And look," Holding out the device, Sheba waves it around before pressing another button. "It even comes with different vibrations, and you can control the speed!" She chirps, demonstrating all its settings.

"How much," Cyno asks, arms folded against his chest.

"200,000 mora."

"That's a scam,"

Sheba sighs, ears drooping dramatically before taking the toy in her palms. "I guess you don't really want to help your beloved that much," She turns away, a sly smirk playing on her lips while she waits for the white-haired man to fall victim to her ploy.

And just like that, it happens.

"I love my beloved wife very much," Cyno grumbles, reaching for his pouch that carried all his mora before dropping it on the counter. "It's yours."

"Sold," Sheba beams, "and just for you, I'll wrap it, just like a gift!"

After completing the transaction, Cyno picks up his purchase before trailing off.

Kaveh was right. His friend was a lovesick fool, Sheba thinks.

"Thanks for the purchase. I hope to see you again soon." She beams, waving off the smaller man, praying to the archons she'll see him again — fools like him were her favorite, easy buyers.

+

Cyno didn't even realize he was gone for so long until he felt the cold desert air brush against his skin, making haste towards your home away from school.

He can see the candle-lit room from your opened window. The more he peeks in. Finally, he can see you hunched over your desk on the other side.

He's quick and quiet — effortlessly sneaking in through the open window. You don't even realize he's in your room until he speaks up.

"My dove," his voice is soft but enough to startle you, nearly causing you to shriek as you jump in your seat.

"Oh, archons, Cyno, you nearly gave me a heart attack." You sigh, your heart still pounding from the scare you received mere minutes before.

Your lover apologizes, "You've been overworking yourself," Cyno points to the bags that have grown underneath your eyes, then to the paperwork in front of you.

"I know," You let out a heavy breath, "but look, I'm almost done," Before you pick your pen up, Cyno snatches it away, careful not to hurt you.

"Tonight, I want you to relax,"

"But,"

"I'm not asking you. You will," Cyno's voice is stern, causing you to lean back in your seat, defeated. Your eyes wander to the bags placed in his hands, and soon enough, his gaze follows yours.

"What's that," You point. Cyno merely shrugs, placing them both on your bed before digging through them. You're quick to recognize the smell that wafts through the air.

"Padisarah pudding," you inquire, sniffing the air for good measure. "I want it,"

A gentle smile tugs at Cyno's lips as a soft laugh escapes him. "After,"

You huff. "What else did you get?"

Cyno's hands fumble with the other bag. You can hear the sound of paper wrinkling as he searches for whatever it is. "A foreign gift," unboxing the 'gift,' Cyno holds it up.

You nearly choke on your spit as you realize what he bought precisely. "That's a vibrator," you cover your face in embarrassment, having heard countless stories about how your friends had enjoyed them.

"A what," Cyno looks at you perplexed, as he examines the vibrator again. "The merchant said this was popular amongst the women,"

You try to stifle a laugh, although you fail horribly. "Oh, I'm sure it is,"

As soon as you stop laughing, you explain to Cyno its purpose, feeding his curiosity as he stares between you and the toy.

"Can we use it?" Cyno asks all too eagerly.

"What,"

"Can we try it,"

Although embarrassing, it's pretty endearing seeing how eager Cyno was to use it. You nod, "I don't see why not, but how do to go about this?" Then, you question, did he want to watch you use it? You wonder.

A sly smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, "You'll see."

+

The buzzing sound coming from the vibrator resonates through the room — mixed in with the soft gasps and whimpers that fall from your lips.

"Cyno,"

Your lover hums, rubbing circles into the softness of your breasts. Your legs are shaking above his, and it's getting harder for you to keep them extended —- sensing this, he spreads them even further using his limbs; your knees fold over him as he forces them open.

"Relax for me, my dove," Cyno dips his head further into the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses upon the column until finally, his lips stop behind your ear.

"You've been working so hard lately, let me take care of you." The drop of timbre in his voice, mixed with his warm breath fanning against your skin, is enough for the hair on your neck to stand up while it sends shivers down your spine.

Leaving no room for argument, you recline to your fate — allowing yourself to relax as the toy rubs against your clit, massaging the poor bundle of nerves in a tantalizing slow motion.

"Cyno," you moan breathlessly as you allow your body to lay limp against his — closing your eyes, you let your head lul against his chest as you focus on the sensation, allowing your fantasies to race through your mind.

Cyno's hand plays with your breast while the other grips the vibrating wand, holding it between your legs as the heads nudged between your folds, vibrating against your clit.

The position your lover has you in is embarrassing, leaving nothing to be hidden as you're forced to stare at your semi-naked body in the mirror. In addition, your robe is awkwardly out of place, the ends bunched up around your waist, while the top is undone, hanging loose enough to expose your chest to the cool air.

"You're so beautiful," He praises, and you gasp — the toy bringing you even closer to your orgasm. You grab his wrist, your breaths becoming shallow as the coil in your tummy tightens.

"'S close," You slur, fidgeting in his lap, your ass grinding against his growing erection with enough friction to cause him to groan.

Even his grasp on the vibrator becomes shaky, as you continue to grind your hips against his, bucking your cunt into the toy.

"'S close, 's close," You cry out, Cyno presses another button, and you can hear the faint click before the head of the toy speeds up.

Although there's another faint noise, and just as you're about to cum, the toy stops — leaving you pent up at your high without a way down before the feeling disappears.

You look at Cyno horrified, and he mutters a string of curses under his breath. "Stupid cat, selling me a defective good," he swears in reference to the merchant from before.

"I—" he bites on his inner cheek, "I can fix this," Tossing the dead toy to the side, Cyno traces your folds with his fingers. Your slick catching on his digits. "You're so wet," He breathes against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss on your skin.

You shudder, feeling Cyno sink his fingers into your heat. He starts with two, slowly pushing them in and out of your cunt — slightly stretching your hole with each thrust.

"More!" You whine, and you can feel Cyno's muscles flex against your back as he hunches over you — speeding up his ministrations.

As soon as your slick pools around him, he slides in an extra finger — curving them just enough to prod and poke at your spongiest spot that has you seeing stars.

He's sure he's found it by how your thighs quiver around his and how your breath hitches in your throat. Finally, he pulls back, retracting his fingers before sliding them back in with enough precision to impale that sensitive spot inside you.

Spots of white decorate your sight as that familiar feeling from before comes back. Your hands claw at Cyno's muscular thighs, your nails leaving scratches across his flesh.

"Gonna cum," You moan, drool spilling from the corner of your lips. You nearly lose it as you feel Cyno thumb at your clit — vigorously rubbing circles into the hardened nub.

Your body falls limp against Cyno's hold, your orgasm hitting you hard as he lazily pumps his fingers inside you while your walls spasm around him.

He kisses your temple, his lips soft against your skin.

"You did so well. You know that?" Cyno hums, and you can still feel his erection straining against you.

"What 'bout you," you slur, still hazy from your orgasm.

"Ah, don't worry about it," He says, placing a chaste kiss upon your lips.

"But I want to," Your hands weakly fumble with the hem of his pants until you finally free his cock — he hisses, feeling you guide him towards your cunt. Spreading your folds with his shaft as you grind yourself against him.

"You're dangerous. You know that?"

+

Cyno lays with his back against the bed, beads of sweat forming along his brows as he anxiously watches you.

You lift your hips slightly, aligning yourself with the leaky tip of Cyno's cock — rubbing it up and down your folds.

Cyno groans, and you feel him shudder underneath you before he mutters out a quick ‘don’t tease me’, there’s a pause, and you hear a ‘please’ after — it’s small, but desperate enough for you to almost feel bad.

"Sorry," you mumble, sinking your hips against his. You nearly choke on your spit as Cyno's cock forces its way inside you — his sheer girth alone, feeling like it'll split you in two.

A soft moan escapes Cyno's lips as he bottoms out, the warmth of your gummy walls wrapping around him going insane.

There's a smirk on your face as you lean closer to Cyno, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Gonna take care of you,"

You wait for a moment, giving yourself enough time to relax around his girth.

Cyno, unsure of what to do, places his hands loosely on your hips, the tips of his thumbs rubbing circles in the softness of your skin.

His eyebrows are furrowed, and you can see his lips quiver as he tries to hold himself back — his flustered expression was cute, you think.

Your pace starts off slow while you relish in the way your lover's cock fits inside you — much to his dismay, Cyno rolls his hips against yours, desperately looking for more friction.

"Cyno," You moan, and the man underneath you groans, gritting his teeth — he can barely take it. He needs more.

Cyno doesn't say a word, and the grip on your hips becomes bruising, but before you have the chance even to think — you're flipped onto your back with your lover looming over you.

"Cyno," You look at him in surprise. Cyno readjusts your body into a better position — throwing your legs carelessly over his shoulders as he guides his cock back toward your hole.

You nearly choke on your spit as Cyno slams into you with a relentless pace, your arms wrap around his body in hopes of grounding yourself — though the more he ruts into you, the harder it is for you to think.

Especially when the tip of his cock pounds against your cervix with each movement while his shaft drags along your walls — all you can think about is how good he feels inside you.

"You feel so good," he groans, although you can barely register the words coming from his mouth. Your brain feels fuzzy, and it's getting harder for you to concentrate.

Cyno's name falls off your lips like a prayer as he continues thrusting into you, your walls squeezing tightly around him — it's not long before he pulls another orgasm from you.

This time you scream, falling slack against the covers. Cyno wraps an arm around you, almost possessively, while he readjusts your body to slam into you with a better angle.

He pants, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with a pap noise. He's close.

All it takes is a few more thrusts before his cock twitches for the last time — spilling his seed inside your cunt as he idly thrusts into you until he's sure you've thoroughly milked him.

The mixture of your juices seeps out from your folds as he pulls away with a squelching sound. His hold on your waist falters, but his arm still rests across your flesh. You can feel the sweat dripping from him.

You both don't say anything, preferring to bask in the silence of your post-orgasmic bliss and enjoy each other's presence. Until your stomach growls and your eyes shoot open. Suddenly you remember the treat he had brought before.

“Cyno, I want the pudding!”

#cyno x reader smut #cyno x reader #cyno x y/n #cyno x you #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact x you smut #cyno imagines #genshin drabbles #cyno smut

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

the little princess (g.l.)

Pairing: Garfield Logan x Tamaranean!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None i think

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: If the Titans had a nickel for every time one of Kori's sister's, that she apparently had a very bad relationship with, landed on Earth, they'd have two nickels. Which isn't much but it's weird that it happened twice.

A/N: This is just a little ode to the Starfire that was in the OG Teen Titans show because I just love her so much. She's just a little cutie patootie and I loved all of her quirks and antics. I wanted to make the oneshot a little longer and end with both Gar and her getting together but I realized that it would've been far too long and I didn't want to write all that in the same one-shot.

It was in Dick's poor judgment to listen to the police radio while they were taking the cross-country road trip while getting back to San Francisco. Well, if we're debating Dick's poor judgment, he really should have taken the jet but not like the team could do anything about it now.

They were in Nevada, near Las Vegas when the chatter on the radio went wild. He spared a glance at Starfire, wondering if they should respond but she shook her head. So far, all alerts on the police radio had been insignificant things like disruption of business or public intoxication. Nothing that required their intervention.

So, Dick didn't bother to turn his indicator on for the exit from the highway. That was until they heard something cut through the static, clear as day, "Attention all units, need immediate backup! There's some sort of human flame thrower here! Like that superhero chick!"

They shared a glance and Dick swerved off the road and into the exit, nearly hitting another car in his hurry.

It took longer than it should have to get there, considering Starfire was driving while Dick changed into his Nightwing suit in the bathroom. To say that LVMPD were surprised when an RV rolled up with five superheroes inside was an understatement.

They directed them to the building, the perimeter heavily guarded by multiple officers, all armed.

Once they entered the building, everyone froze, noting how the girl on fire in the middle of the room looked much like the one standing beside them. Her hair was glowing and floating along with her body as she clenched her molten fists.

This never would have happened if they just took the jet.

Before any of them could even come up with a game plan, their target noticed just who was standing there and stopped. When the flames and the nearly blinding glow had subsided, they noticed all that was remaining was a young girl.

"Kori?" She asked curiously, wondering if that was really Starfire or just someone who looked exactly like her. After all, it was a new planet, she didn't know much about the inhabitants here.

"(Y/N)?" Kori breathed out, equal parts shocked and relieved.

The girl's face crumpled, and she broke out into sobs before flying right into her arms, "Kori!"

It was kind of amusing to see Kori attempt to hug you back, considering that you were floating off the ground but once you were consoled, she let you go, and you remained floating a couple feet off the floor at her side.

Kori gestured to the rest of them, and you bashfully hid behind her, scared of the newcomers. Ever since you landed on this planet, they had been nothing but cruel to you. All you had done was use your powers to reheat the tea you were served and suddenly there were men who had pointed weapons at you.

You looked at Nightwing's escrima sticks apprehensively before tucking yourself further behind her back. She spared you a glance before turning to her teammates with a tolerating smile.

"Guys, meet my sister."

"Another sister? Is she gonna try and kill us too?"

"You know Komander?" You asked curiously, floating a bit higher so that your head peeked over Kori's.

"Vaguely." Conner answered and you tilted your head, watching him with a deliberating pout. He seemed a little uncomfortable by your piercing stare, so you averted your gaze before whispering in your sister's ear.

"Are they holding you hostage?"

She chuckled and shook her head before introducing all of them to you by name. You listened attentively, noticing how neither of them bothered to give you smiles aside from the youngest girl and boy named Rachel and Gar.

They had pretty hair. You liked them already.

***

"Another sister you didn't tell us about?" Dick pressed, leaning over the centre console and Kori sighed, running a hand down her face. You were floating in the back of the RV, listening intently to Tim's conspiracies about aliens and attempting to explain your history and more to him.

"I didn't think I had to. I never thought we'd actually have to run into her." She explained and he gave her a hard gaze.

"Yes, but a little heads up would have been nice."

"Well, I didn't know she was going to be here, now did I?!" She snapped and the RV was immediately silenced. She sighed and turned to give the rest of you a reassuring smile and you reluctantly went back to your conversations.

When she was sure they weren't listening, she turned back to Dick, "She's the youngest. After Komander was born without powers, the public and nobles pressed for my parents to have another child. She was born with powers and also the first one in like 5 generations to be born with the power of flight. She's considered a gem in the public eye. She can do no wrong. And she's too young to assume the throne so she's never pressured like Komander, and I were. I'm surprised they even let her off the planet."

Dick cast an uncertain eye on the woman beside him. It was obvious that she had some unresolved issues with you, although he couldn't exactly put his finger on why. From what he gathered, you were pretty delightful and made a cute first impression, unlike the time he met Jason.

"What's this?" You asked loudly, pointing to a hole in their table.

"Um, it's a sink." Gar answered, flustered that you didn't know about its existence, "It's where we wash our hands and dishes and things."

Your face scrunched up, "Well that sounds unhygienic. Can't you just acquire new ones?"

Kori rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?" She asked, finally acknowledging you now that she had wrapped her head around it.

Your brows furrowed at her tone as you flew closer to her, "Maybe I'm assuming but are you perhaps angry with me?"

She scoffed. Of course, you didn't even know when you upset someone. People back home usually jump through hoops for you, so it was no wonder that you had absolutely no idea of other people's feelings or thought that you could do any wrong.

"Yes! What the hell are you doing here?! You can't just come to a planet like Earth and then go around causing trouble!"

"Excuse me?" You asked cautiously, trying to reason with her. You had come here to find your older sister because you thought she would know what to do. The more you spoke with her, the less she seemed like the rightful ruler and more like Komander, "What was I meant to do, Kori'Ander? Our parents were murdered, the crown princess disappeared. People began looking toward me for an answer. What was I meant to tell them?"

She scoffed once again and you were starting to get very irritated by the sound, "Of course, couldn't even run a kingdom for a while."

This struck the wrong chord. You were never quite close with your older sisters; they both considered you the runt of the family and frequently made comments about how you were too young to join them on their excursions. Kori would seem like the doting older sister to the public, but you never really connected.

And Komander hated you since birth.

It was undeniable that your parents treasured you. I mean, how could they not when you constantly strived for their attention. You didn't have any friends growing up and your sisters scorned you when you did nothing wrong, so you depended on your parents for intimacy and connection.

It wasn't rare for you to be floating around the throne room, giggling when your father teased you by attempting to catch you, even though you were way out of his reach.

The people treasured you as well, you realized that very early, when you were first introduced to them as a young girl. You had been hiding behind your mother's gown, intimidated by the sheer amount of people and held her skirt in a tight fist.

You remember your parents cooing at you as they slowly revealed you to the rest of them and then the deafening sound of the crowd cheering. Your parents watched with pride as you began flying to try and see just how many people were there and they cheered louder.

You were adored.

And even though you did want to spend time with your sisters and play with them, you were eventually steered away from them by your parents after you had returned to their room in tears and inconsolable when your sisters had slammed their door in your face when you had just asked to play.

"I'm not the one meant to be running the kingdom, Kori. You are the crown princess. It was your duty to be take over the throne or officially abdicate it. Not mine." You explained, not quite understanding why she was being so negative. This had been her birth right and her path, way before you were even born.

You didn't realize it when you were younger but as you came of age, you understood that your role in the royal family wasn't one of politics or even running the kingdom. You were nothing more than a symbol to the people. Of purity, peace, and hope.

That had been made clear, so why was she suddenly expecting you to take over?

Everyone stared out the window, trying extremely hard to blend into the surroundings. While all of them respected Kori a lot, they all knew that she was impulsive and often said things without thinking them through. While Kori was excellent at giving advice, she herself was awful at controlling her emotions and lashed out often.

Tim began making prayers that they would make it through without something catching on fire.

"I realize that (Y/N)! But you're still the princess in our absence! You should have done something instead of running away and make someone solve your problems for you!"

You gasped, "My problems?! The kingdom that you're the ruler of is my problem? I'm the one who's running away? You're the one who ran so far that you went to a completely different planet! You—You zarbnarf!"

Kori froze, watching as your eyes glassed over with furious tears. Immediately, she regretted speaking to you that way, feeling panic build in her system. It was probably because growing up, she had learnt to grow terrified whenever you began crying around her.

Because you were the golden child. The fragile flower among molten rocks and you were treasured by your parents beyond anything. If either Kori or Komander had made you cry, they usually faced a punishment. That was something that you took advantage of, as an immature, mischievous child. When had you grown up so much?

She wanted to apologize, take it back but her pride was swelling so big in her chest that it clogged her throat. She was still angry and humiliated and all the things she felt as a child began coming back to her.

How could she be so immature? She had no idea what happened on Tamaran, and she had been foolish to think it was still the place she considered home. But it was inevitable for the people to ask about their ruler. She had been running away from the thought for too long.

She had completely forgotten that you were left behind in the chaos.

"You abandoned our family! Our people! And for what? A servant’s quarters on wheels?" You spat, turning away from her. She expected you to throw open the door and fly out but instead you stomped over to the seat beside Gar, not noticing the way he began scrambling to wiggly himself out of the booth and away from you.

He was too slow, and you ended up plopping down onto the seat beside him and he stared apprehensively at you from the corner of his eye.

Kori scoffed, "Why don't you just leave?!"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, "I'm done with this conversation but not with you. If your first response to confrontation is to run away, then I can see why you weren't gifted with the power of flight in the first place."

She swelled, puffing out her chest, "You know what—?!"

When Kori realized that you weren't in the mood to talk anymore, she returned to her seat even though she wanted to keep yelling at you. Why did you get to decide when the argument was over? You both weren't on Tamaran anymore and your parents weren't around anymore to scold her for picking a fight with someone so much younger but still, she fumed silently in her seat.

You turned to Gar with an apologetic pout, "I apologize for calling this a servant's quarters. You have a lovely home."

He chuckled at your guilty face, "Yeah, this isn't where we live, we're just using it to get back home."

You gave him a smile, "So you're not feeling hard with me?"

He blushed furiously, ignoring Conner as he laughed quietly into his hand, "Yeah, no hard feelings here."

***

Since you were an "unwelcome" guest in Kori's eyes, you were confined to the couch when you reached the tower. She was expecting you to throw a fit or whine about having to sleep like a servant, but you didn't mind, didn't complain, didn't say anything as you sat silently on the couch.

They didn't know what caused the sudden damp in your mood, you had been smiling the entire trip back, asking questions and making conversation but it was like everything vanished the second you entered their home.

Gar came out of his room in the middle of the night for a snack when he saw you sitting up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest. He thought he would just grab whatever he needed and leave quickly but he heard you sniffle.

"You okay?"

You looked up at him startled, and quickly wiped away your tears before plastering a fake smile on your face, "I am fine. Thank you for asking."

He should have just nodded, giving you an awkward smile before retreating back to his bedroom but he seemed unable to get the apathetic words out at the site of you hiding your faltering smile behind your pink hair.

Superman had kryptonite. He had pretty girls.

"Would you like some ice cream?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Iced screams? What is that?"

He chuckled, finding the way your nose scrunched up absolutely adorable, "Not 'iced screams'. Ice cream."

"Like cold milk?"

"Cold, sweet, hard milk."

You looked mildly repulsed, "I shall decline. Thank you for the offer."

He just breathed out a laugh, sitting next to you with a bowl of cookie dough and two spoons, "Just try it."

You kept giving him cautious glances all while lifting the spoon of the sugary treat to your mouth, watching as he nodded encouragingly and tentatively took a tiny taste (wow alliteration).

Gar had the absolute pleasure of watching your face scrunch up immediately, not expecting it to be that cold but it slowly faded into a small smile at the flavour.

When you had taken another spoon, he glanced at you and noticed your swollen eyes and red nose, "Is everything okay?"

You gave him a small smile and nodded, "I am merely just sick of your home."

He froze in disbelief before reminding himself that you were a literal princess. You were probably very used to luxury and had a literal castle to yourself.

And you're Komander's sister. That part explains a lot.

He shook the thoughts from his head before smiling politely and taking a spoon of ice cream himself when he didn't know how to respond. Luckily, he didn't have to because you continued.

"I know I have been here only a short time, but I miss Tamaran deeply."

The tension in his spine melted away and he slouched with a sigh of relief, "Oh, you're homesick."

You gave him a refined smile, "Yes, I just mentioned about the home-sickness."

"It's not exactly--nevermind."

There was a moment of silence while you quietly ate a couple more spoonfuls of ice cream before Gar spoke again, "No offense but if you miss it so much, why don't you just go back?"

You bit your lip, "My planet is in political instability. I'm unfit to take the throne. So, I vowed to bring the true heir back home."

His brows furrowed, "Why are you unfit to take the throne? You seem smart and powerful."

His compliment had heat raising to your cheeks and you felt a small smile grow on your face before it was dampened by the heavy topic and you sighed, resting your head against the back of the couch.

"My people wish that I take the throne because they see me as a beacon of hope but that is the very reason I am unable. My gift of flight has made me different from the rest of the Tamaraneans, so in a political sense, I have become a figurehead for nobility, equality and neutrality."

He nodded even though he wasn't quite understanding where this was headed.

"Because of this I have been trusted to be a mediator between my planet and others. I am but a symbol of peace. The rulers of other planets trust me because I am not part of the political party on Tamaran. I have never even made my debut into noble society. If I take my place as the ruler, those alliances could fall apart. The common people couldn't possibly understand that."

"So, you're supposed to be this unbiased figurehead but if you acquire any actual power, you think your alliances with other planets will fall apart?" He summarized, wanting to make sure that he actually understood, and you nodded.

"Well, why don't you just tell Kori that? I'm sure she'd understand."

Your eyes drifted to your feet that were folded up onto the sofa, "I was going to, but I lost my temper when she accused me of not taking initiative. She never acknowledged the work I did for my people. I suppose I got defensive."

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze, "It's alright. Second time's the charm."

Your face scrunched up in confusion and he laughed quietly, "I mean, you should try again tomorrow. Maybe it'll go better this time."

"Ah."

"Hey (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Garfield?"

He offered you a small smile, "If it makes any difference, I really do believe that you did the right thing."

You felt the corners of your mouth tug up, "Thank you, Garfield."

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

#garfield logan #garfield logan x reader #garfield logan oneshot #garfield logan imagine #garfield logan fic #garfield logan headcanon #gar logan #gar logan x reader #gar logan oneshot #gar logan imagine #gar logan headcanon #gar logan fic #beast boy x reader #beast boy #beast boy imagine #beast boy oneshot #beast boy headcanon #dc titans #dc titans x reader #dc titans oneshot

[sweetbbyshion]

Little Brother

-> Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x Reader (they/them pronouns used)

characters: Touya Todoroki (Dabi), Shoto Todoroki

genre: fluff

summary: touya introduces you to his family and the youngest todoroki grows attached to you

warnings: established relationship (between dabi and the reader), mentions of past trauma, this is set on a alternative setting where quirks aren't a thing and the todorokis are trying to be a better family

I do have more ideas for different parts so let me know if you're interested in this becoming a series of dabi fluff feat his family (in particular shoto)

When you first started dating Touya, meeting his family was the scariest thing you could think of. Touya was honest when he told you he and his family had a rough start but were trying to get on good terms again. He always seemed happy when he was talking about his siblings, telling you silly stories about their childhood or how the weekly phone call with them went.

After a few months of dating, Touya decided to ask you to visit his family for the weekend. You could have lied and said you had exams or even been honest and tell him you weren't sure but the way Touya’s eyes sparkled in hope made you unable to deny his request. His mom seemed sweet and from what Touya told you, she already loved you; his dad you weren't so sure but your boyfriend assured you that he wouldn't be mean or anything; you were almost sure you would get along with Fuyumi; Natsuo was too much like Touya so if you managed to get along with your boyfriend, you are sure you will be able to get along with Natsuo; Shoto, however, was the person who scared you the most. He was only twelve and you know how hard teenage boys can be to deal with. Touya guaranteed that Shoto would like you, that he doesn't even talk much but that made you more nervous. How were you supposed to bond with a twelve year old boy that doesn't speak? More than anything, you wanted Touya’s family’s approval and that meant every single one of them.

The days prior to the big meeting, you kept annoying Touya with multiple questions about Shoto, trying to get an idea of what you could say to start a conversation. Your boyfriend wasn't very useful on the matter, simply brushing you off with “you’ll be ok, stop worrying your pretty head.” You hated him (but not really). So you ignore the urge to choke Touya to death and mentally prepare yourself. If everything goes wrong, you will have to lock yourself in his room until it's time to leave.

Your university isn't that far away from Touya’s house so, as he drives, you start to think that maybe you should have stayed home. It might be too soon to meet his family, you haven't been dating for long. Touya’s hand squeezes your thigh as a sign of reassurance. You try to focus on the music for the rest of the ride. Your heart starts beating faster when Touya parks in front of a house. You leave the car without thinking, set on getting this over with as fast as possible. Your boyfriend goes to the trunk to get both of your small bags for the weekend and starts walking in front of you. He knocks on the door and your breath gets caught in your throat. A boy that looks too much like Touya without his piercings opens the door and instantly hugs your boyfriend. Touya ruffles his hair and steps to the side. “This is my partner.” he introduces, then says your name. Natsuo bows slightly and tells you to get in, expressing how happy he is to meet you. There's a faint smell of food coming from the kitchen and two women that look so much alike come out to say hi. You bow at them but Rei has a warm smile as she hugs you, communicating how much Touya has talked about you, making your tough looking boyfriend blush slightly as he tries to hide his face on his sister’s hair. Fuyumi hugs you next, asking you to drop the formalities as they already consider you family.

“You're trying to steal my partner already and we just arrived.” Touya says in a playful tone.

Rei pats his cheek before pulling him for a hug, squeezing him a bit and saying she missed him. You hear the sweetness in Touya’s voice as he murmurs “I missed you too.”

Fuyumi lets everyone know that dinner is almost ready and that their father will be home soon. From what she said, Shoto was in his room doing homework but she thinks it's an excuse to hide for a little longer since he seemed nervous to meet his big brother’s partner. Your heart warms a bit to the thought that you weren't the only one nervous about this meetup.

You follow Touya to his room to place your bag and take a moment to look around.

“Your room is so… empty.”

“Never really decorated it. Plus, most of my stuff I took with me to the dorm.” you hum in acknowledgment. “I told you they would like you.”

“I still haven't met your dad or your younger brother.”

“I don't give a fuck about what my dad thinks and Shoto will like you.” Touya hugs your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It’s hard to believe but he's a lot like me. And you managed to make me fall in love with you so I think it will be fine.” you sigh, turning on his embrace to hug him back. “I love you, don't worry too much.”

You whisper that you love him back and hug him a bit tighter. Touya always managed to feel like home and you felt comfortable in his arms.

A soft knock on the door catches your attention and Touya lets you go to open it. A boy with two colored hair stares at the both of you. “Mom said dinner’s ready.”. Touya looks back at you and you bow slightly to the boy, introducing yourself. Shoto simply turns around and leaves the room. Touya is quick to follow him and hooking his arm around Shoto’s neck, ruffling his hair violently while arguing with him to have manners. While you were a bit sad about the way the youngest Todoroki reacted, you didn't blame him and you laughed at your twenty years old boyfriend acting like a baby as they both got scolded by Rei.

Todoroki Enji was already in the living room. He was definitely the scariest person in the room right now. Tall and broad with a dark aura. He was hard to ignore, towering over anyone and everyone. You got goosebumps with the way he glared at you and you were quick to bow respectfully as you introduced yourself yet again. Touya doesn't say much more than a simple “Hey dad.” before Fuyumi is urging everyone to sit down at the table. His dad definitely had an undertone that made the room feel more tense, quieter, the complete opposite of Rei’s calmer, sweeter spirit.

You were already expecting some questions but you didn't think Touya’s dad would be the one to ask you most of them, giving small hums every time you replied. You didn't know if he was judging you or not, the man kept a straight face all the time and his eyes were impossible to read. His voice was audibly softer when he talked to Touya and you wondered if that was his way of trying to be better to his son. Fuyumi is the one telling you a bit more about the family, talking about how she wants to be a teacher and Natsuo is about to start high school. Then she proudly spoke about how smart Shoto is in school, always getting good grades. Apparently, Shoto was the smartest among the siblings, Fuyumi said, which made Touya hold back his pout as he argued that he was doing pretty well in university. “I bet Shoto couldn't get better grades than me!” “He’s only twelve Touya!”.

The dynamic of the family seemed a lot better than how it was during Touya’s childhood but you notice that Shoto doesn't take his eyes away from the food as the conversation keeps going.

“What's your favorite subject?” you ask him, quietly so the attention doesn't go back to him.

“I don't know.” Shoto simply says before asking to leave the table, then getting up to put his dishes inside the washing machine.

Your brows furrow as you watch the boy leave the room. You decide not to bother the young boy for the rest of the night, focusing on helping Rei clean everything before settling down on the couch next to your boyfriend. Touya’s dad announced that he was going to his room and his mom followed soon after, telling her younger kids that they need to go to their beds soon, getting protests from Natsuo. The four of you decide on a movie and you cuddle your boyfriend’s warm body, drifting between being awake and asleep merely twenty minutes into the movie. Fuyumi is the next one to leave the living room, admitting that she's already tired. She ends up dragging Natsuo since he was almost asleep on the couch, leaving you and Dabi alone in the living room.

Dabi plays with your hair as he murmurs in a soft voice “Are you feeling better? Calmer?”. You nod, cuddling closer to him as you take a deep breath, feeling his scent bring you comfort. “I’m sorry Shoto was a bit rude.”

“It's alright. I understand.” you murmur sleepily. “I’m not mad at him or anything, it's not my place. I believe we’ll have more opportunities to talk.”

“Yeah, I’m not letting you go so you'll definitely have more opportunities to talk to him.” he chuckles, pulling you closer. Let's go to bed, baby.” You let yourself get dragged to the room by your boyfriend. Like he usually does, Dabi helps you take off your clothes and change before softly wiping off your makeup while your eyes fight to stay open. He will then change his own clothes quickly to snuggle you in bed. Dabi always makes himself appear scary and people usually say he's intimidating but you have to disagree because, as Dabi hugs your waist and hides his face on your chest, he always looks like a cuddle away from actually purring. Dabi argues that he will have nightmares if he's not being held by you so you spend most nights with him clinging onto you while you play with his hair until he falls asleep. It's only fair that he asks for that now that he's back in his childhood home.

When you wake up on the next day, Saturday, your boyfriend is shaking you awake because his brother already came calling him for breakfast. Breakfast is a lot quieter than last night's dinner. You help Rei clean everything, not missing Shoto asking Touya if he wanted to play a video game with him. Fuyumi is sitting on the floor, books scattered all over the coffee table and Natsuo is almost falling asleep on the couch. Shoto and Touya are sitting side by side, each holding a controller while they choose a character in Mario Kart. Rei announces that she's going to the supermarket, kissing all of her children’s forehead before leaving. Touya pats the place next to him when he sees you and you quickly sit down, striking a conversation with Fuyumi about what she is studying.

“You're shit at this game.” the youngest Todoroki murmurs. Touya gasps dramatically, a hand going on his chest as he looks at his brother. “Shoto! Language!” his brother simply rolls his eyes, snatching the controller away from him.

“Do you want to play with me?” It takes you a few seconds to realize Shoto is talking to you, his arm stretched in your direction. You can't control your smile as you reach for the controller, ignoring the smirk Touya sends your away. Shoto doesn't talk much unless he's replying to a jab his brother sends him. “You're a lot better than Tou.” Touya, like the drama queen he is, immediately jumps to try to tickle his brother, putting his head on a headlock. You're left to pull your boyfriend back, warning him about how Shoto is getting redder by the second because of the uncontrollable laughter. Shoto cleans the tears in his eyes while you're holding your boyfriend in your arms to stop him from jumping back to tickling his brother. With his back turned to you, you make a signal with your head, hoping Shoto understands the message. He's still laughing when he starts tickling Touya and you do your best to keep him in place as he starts screaming apologies.

You smile as you watch the two brothers catching their breaths side to side and you understand why Touya said his younger brother was a lot like him. As they sit next to each other, you can see the similarities in their expressions. Touya scares you by dropping his head on your shoulder, still breathing heavily. “Are you sure you're 20?” you ask, not able to stop your giggles. “Keep laughing and you're next.”

“I won't let you.” Shoto’s voice surprises you. “They're cooler than you so I can't let you attack them.”

After that day, Shoto visibly grew closer to you. It was barely noticeable but he didn't seem as uncomfortable with your presence. You would hear him ask Touya when were you going back during their weekly calls, begging your boyfriend to visit them the next weekend and bring you along. Touya would argue and whine that his little brother was trying to steal you from him but you would just shut him down by flicking his forehead. You certainly started seeing Shoto as a little brother too and couldn't be happier that he liked your company. Even if it made his older brother act like a baby every time you spent time together. You don't even remember a time when you were nervous to meet Touya's family.

#kora posts! #dabi x reader #dabi fluff #shoto todoroki #touya todoroki #my hero academia fluff #my hero academia x reader #mha fluff #mha x reader #my hero academia dabi #mha dabi

[sassypantsjaxon]

Hizashi Yamada is too powerful to be anything other than a side character

5/5 intelligence stat - this one's from the Ultra Archive book but I don't have anything to prove it, so you just have to take my word for it sorry but it's not hard to believe considering we know he speaks english well enough to teach it, has multiple high intensity jobs, and has some pretty good instincts too.

Highly intuitive - We see this first in chapter 83, after the training camp invasion, when Mic suggests a student could have betrayed them. And then again in chapter 254 with the Kurogiri reveal, where Mic questions the reason for it (really this is more of a grief fueled rambling, but I'm counting it anyway). In both cases, he's quickly dismissed, only to later be proven right.

Excels at all parts of heroism - Even as a teenager in the flashbacks in chapter 60 of Vigilantes, we can see that Mic is naturally skilled at being a hero. Obviously, he's now had 15 years to grow and improve, so it would be safe to assume he's even stronger and more skilled now.

Powerful quirk since birth - I think chapter 66 is the first time we get an idea of what he's really capable of. Plenty of other people have posted about just how destructive his quirk probably is, so I'm not going to rehash that here. What I am going to say is that we're told most people get their quirks around the age of 4, and we've seen that even as teenagers, they're still growing and strengthening their quirks. Whereas Mic's had literally his entire life to hone a quirk that was powerful enough to cause damage from the start.

Near All Might in terms of strength/power among UA teachers - Then in chapter 67, while Izuku's discussing his classmates exams with Recovery Girl, she states that Mic's one of the strongest teachers at UA. What interests me about this is that they're actually discussing Midnight, and Mic's already been beaten by this point. There's no need to bring him up really. Except that it's true and Izuku wants to learn everything he can about the pros. It's just a little throwaway line that actually reveals a lot.

And he does all of this while managing three very different jobs. Same, Izuku, same.

#bnha #my hero academia #present mic #hizashi yamada #i am convinced mic could have challenged endeavor as the second best hero if he had focused on just heroism #but anyway #Mic's super cool and super underrated #and i hope we get to see some of his true potential in the fight with Kurogiri #man would have just screamed the lov into oblivion a long time ago if he were the main teacher #two people asked me to elaborate #which was two more than i expected #so elaborate i shall

[mishy-mashy]

This was on a separate post but I think it should have its own (also because I went off-track when I first wrote this)

Remember when Midoriya was trying to wake up a Quirk as a child, trying to pull the couch toward him or breathe fire?

This was him trying to use his parents' Quirks, in the hope he inherited one of theirs.

Inko could pull small objects. Hisashi could breathe fire.

Anyway this is a [Midoriya has AFO] post and [DFO is real]-

Anyway please listen? If his dad was AFO, and passed on that Quirk to little Midoriya, it makes sense that they all considered him Quirkless.

All For One starts as a blank slate. It has no Quirks available, because none were taken yet. And if no Quirks were stolen, nevermind passing through the user to be bestowed to others, then AFO at the base level is the equivalent of being Quirkless.

Midoriya having AFO would leave him as Quirkless. And he never would've known if he had AFO, because he thinks his dad just breathes fire. AFO's existence is just an urban legend to people back then.

Midoriya wouldn't be able to breathe fire if AFO was his dad, because that was never his Quirk.

Even if he did have a fire-breathing Quirk, AFO holds onto random ones like Naval Laser. It could just be one of those gags.

All For One is a quirk that takes. One For All decides to be given.

Midoriya, rather than take, was instead given Quirks, and sees people's goodness. He isn't selfish at his core. He's too optimistic. This is the opposite of AFO, which takes and gives—Midoriya was on the receiving end of being given, by OFA.

If Midoriya had a natural AFO, it makes sense that he's Quirkless. It also makes sense that he can handle multiple Quirks from OFA; because the nature of AFO is being able to wield multiple Quirks in one body.

AFO looks for Quirks that are easy to use, and straightforward. Midoriya ended up with Quirks that he has to strategize and think with, and even Bruce mentions his brain couldn't do all the processing, which is why he froze up.

Midoriya is past the point of Singularity. Yoichi says this when he first tells Ninth "You are not alone". But Midoriya is completely fine.

He only breaks his bones. He doesn't deform and become something the human body warps to be able to contain the Quirks. He got a good deal, when considering what Shigaraki became once.

He has OFA's Quirk Factor, but that Quirk Factor stores up Quirk Factors within itself. We can deduce that from Bruce saying only Danger Sense's Factor was stolen. It's naturally a stockpiling power similar to AFO that Yoichi had forced on him, and at its very base, Bruce called an "unformed dud".

Now, it's more grown from all the strength and Quirks stockpiled. Even if OFA counts as one Quirk, it still holds multiple Factors inside itself, so it might as well be the same as multiple Factors to the body. When Shinomori explained his life shortened because of multiple Quirks, he shows all the users before him, rather than the more-common "One For All is glowing in my hand" or "One For All is a flame" image to show the crystallization of power. Though it could just be to show the individuals adding to the short-life..

In the void, we see OFA vestiges are inside the vault, according to the door's face. On the other side, like when Yoichi was alive, could be AFO.

Midoriya sees the goodness of people. He said Eri's power was gentle, and always affirms that she saved him when she tries putting herself down. He says Shinso's Quirk is amazing, and he'd make a great hero. When seeing Chisaki while fighting Nagant, he just said he'd talk to him later, and promised to fulfill her promise if he was willing to direct his regret toward Eri. Kudo says he should hate Bakugo, but Midoriya looks at the heart, and believes in that.

AFO only sees the Quirk first. He looked at Ragdoll, decided to take the Quirk and didn't care for what happened to her body afterwards. When he looked at Best Jeanist, he applauded his use of his Quirk to save everyone, but then knocked Jeanist down anyway, saying it required too much work, so he didn't need the Quirk.

Midoriya having AFO and OFA would make him an intersection. He's born with AFO, but because he believed he was Quirkless, had grown up being put down, and knows what it's like to be weak. Born with AFO, but seeing the unequal world, and being given OFA because he wanted to save people and be a hero.

Y'know, this sounds a lot like Yoichi. Believed to be Quirkless because his Quirk required someone else, and therefore was unfinished and "non-existent". Even AFO didn't realize it existed because it was so weak.

Midoriya wanted to save people. He has AFO. He's living what AFO could've done [saving others] and embodying Yoichi's belief ["the power to give and take could have been the kindest in the whole world"].

All For One is blank. AFO only had an Ability he could use because he stole his mother's at birth.

Midoriya didn't. His Quirk should've come when he turned five. And he didn't know about AFO. He doesn't even have holes in his palms

If there's no holes in his palms, either his Quirk Factor is elsewhere, or manifests differently in said hands. In which we consider Inko: she can pull small objects toward her

It's possible for Midoriya to have a combination of AFO and Inko's Abilities. He tried pulling objects, but he never tried pulling people or Quirks.

If Midoriya can take Quirks from a distance, and AFO, like OFA, stores Quirks within a single Factor, then Kudo could be saying to let go of One For All so he can make room for All For One's Factor. Midoriya would have the capacity for it.

#stuff i mentioned in a previous post that should be its own post #dfo is like the rat swarm to me #i have the same feelings toward it like the rats #man imagine everyones getting the perfect fusion of quirks #like bakugo and midoriya #and then we have endeavor with four kids and one of them got the wrong combination (touya) #mha #bnha #spoilers #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #afo #all for one #ofa #one for all #dfo #izuku midoriya #yoichi shigaraki #inko midoriya #an earlier post about how the users could be guarding the door of the vault something something #maybe by letting go of ofa then technically AFO gets what he wants #but then the factors are destroyed by the war raging in afo's vestige land #in any case i want more details about the vestiges #like height backstory etc #why is bruce a head taller than kudo? why does en look shorter than midoriya? HOW TALL ARE THEY?

[freya-fallen]

Little Dove 2/?

Check part 1 for story triggers, though none really apply here.

Part 3

You frown at the text. It’s from your bother’s number, but it’s clearly not him. You don’t know if you should respond or wait to talk to Keigo about it. But who knows when that will be.

>Where should I drop this phone off?

>Your the only contact outside the HPSC

>hello?

You didn’t realize that. Surely, Keigo had other people— sidekicks or… then again, he had multiple phones. He said it was easier that way; he could ignore calls from one phone, but keep the other on in case of emergencies.

You should probably respond, right?

<Who is this?>

>I asked you first

You scowl. This is getting you nowhere. There must be some question you can ask that this person will answer. 

<Are you a hero? What agency are you with?> 

>I’m not with an agency. I’m more underground

Whoever this is must be a contact. Keigo does all kinds of work for the commission, to include intel gathering. 

>You bird brain’s gf?

<Ew no lol>

It’s such an automatic response that you type it out before you can help yourself.

>You gotta be a little sister then

“Shit.” No one outside the HPSC is supposed to know about you. You stare down at the screen in your hands, your heart pounding as your mind rushes to find an excuse.

>Don’t worry I won’t tell

<Hero families get threatened a lot> 

>I understand completely

>I still gotta know where to drop off this phone tho

You’re not dumb enough to invite this stranger to your home, not that they’d get through the door without being vetted.

That begs the question of what you can do. You can meet them somewhere, maybe at a cafe or something, a public place. You roll your lip between your teeth as you consider. That might be the best option.

<Do you know XYZ? The cafe?>

A minute passes. You approach the black car awaiting you outside the school and hesitate to open the door.

>sure

You release the breath you weren’t aware you were holding and open the door, climbing inside. 

<Meet me there in ten?>

>you got it dove

“We need to make a stop before home,” you tell the driver. “It’s not too far, so I can probably walk from there.”

XYZ is a small cafe only three blocks from home. You’ve been allowed to walk there on your own a few times, usually on weekends where you decide you want a sweet pastry. The driver sets up and you pull outside the cafe only a few minutes later. Nervous hands waffle your phone as you find a seat and cross your legs under the table. You’ve never met another hero, let alone one who works with your brother. Something tells you itt’s a guy and you wonder what he’ll be like, if he’ll judge you for being a highschool girl, or for having such a weak quirk compared to your brother.

“You like coffee, little dove?” You didn’t even notice the person approach. His smoky voice makes you jump and you blink up at him with wide eyes.

He’s a little taller than Keigo, with black hair and the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re familiar, but strange above the black mask that covers the bottom of his face. Maybe if you could see his whole face you could put a name to him, but you’re lost at the moment.

“I’m not allowed to have coffee,” you admit awkwardly. 

His eyes crinkle at the corners in a hint of a smile. “I won’t tell if you won’t. C’mon, it’s a caramel latte.” He sets the steaming cup in front of you and slips into the other seat at the tiny round table.

You can’t see all of his hands from beneath the cuff of his jacket, which is buttoned up all the way to tickle at the bottom of the mask. His fingers are long and pale. There are half-moon scars beneath his eyes, though the mask covers a bit of that, too. And his ears are similarly trextured and lined with silver piercings.

“Thank you.” You wrap your hands around the mug and bring the steaming cup to your lips. It’s sweet with just a hint of coffee bitterness beneath. You like it. It must show on your face, because the stranger chuckles.

He leans against one fist. “I don’t know what I expected, but not anyone as cute as you.”

One of your wings flutters at the compliment and your cheeks burn. You hope he didn’t notice, but something tells you he sees everything. “You have Kei— Hawks’ phone?”

He pulls out the red-cased cell and taps it gentle on the table. “I could just leave it as his agency or something, but when I saw your contact, I was intrigued. Seriously, why isn’t he sharing you with the world? He should be taking you to galas and shit.”

“He’s more concerned with my safety.” Your face is so hot you’re sure he can feel it from across the table. No one talks to you like this. At school, you’re so shy that no boy has ever confessed to you. The adults in your life are typically all business. Keigo calls you pretty and says you’re perfect, but he’s family. 

He nods. “Your boyfriend probably shows you off though, right?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You almost choke on the words. Keigo has told you it isn’t safe to date either, not until you’re a little older. Once you have your own place, it’ll be different.

“No way. A cutie like you? Have you ever been on a date?” You shake your head. “So you don’t have a boyfriend and Hawks never takes you out.” He sighs and his eyes bore into you as he seems to consider something. “How about I take you out some time?”

“What? You? Really?” You’re lost for words.

“Sure. Why not?”

You gape at him. “But you’re a hero. And I—I’m…” 

One of his hands crosses the table to lay over yours. You’d expect it to be cold given how pale he is, but it’s warm, almost hot. “It’s not like I’m famous. Your brother and I mostly just pass intel.”

“I’m not really allowed…” You shrug. The weight of his hand is nice on yours and he gives it a little squeeze.

“So don’t tell. It’ll be our little secret, like the coffee.”

You smile brightly. “Okay.”

“I’ll text you, pretty bird. Enjoy your coffee.” He stands and you suddenly realize something.

“Wait! What’s your name?”

He glances back at you and says, “Call me Dabi.”

want to be added to the taglist? lemme know

#darkfic #yandere #mha #hawks #my hero academia #yandere dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #yandere hawks #hawks x reader #smut

[keepswingin]

Chan + crush

It starts out like anything else does, until it turns into something completely out of control. Which really isn't all that surprising when it comes to his life, because these kinds of things always turn into something big.

"Did the company tell you what to say yet?" Minho asks with a drawl that says he already knows the answer, lounging on the couch as soon as Chan enters their dorm.

He was originally coming over to theirs to drag Jeongin with him to get dinner, but he isn't all that surprised that it's Minho he sees first. 

"What do you think?" he sighs, pulling the door shut behind him. He leans on the arm of the couch, weight sagging against it. "They're going to try and brush it off as an 'unsupported rumor'." He gestures sarcastically as he says it, causing Minho to smirk and roll his eyes.

"Try to sound less enthused about it," he replies, eyes drifting back to the television.

There's some show on about baking desserts. Minho's only half paying attention to it, Chan knows, more interested in hearing about things the internet has already raked through ten times over.

"They do realize that she had proof in her post, right? No one is going to believe that all of it is nothing but a rumor." He says it simply, mostly because they both know there's no sugarcoating when it comes to something as big as this.

He does know, and almost hates to admit that there's a small part of him that wished that the company couldn't just run this entire thing over and leave it for dead in the middle of the road.

She was more than that; they were more than that.

He knew exactly what he was putting on the line, and exactly in which ways they could move him around, but none of it mattered when she was the one it was all centered around. 

"Did you know she was going to post?" Minho asks quietly, when the silence between them has dragged on for a moment too long.

Chan bristles, readjusting himself against the furniture and turning his eyes back to the television. The host is cracking eggs and mixing them in with just enough butter. Chan thinks back to the cake he had shared on his birthday, and the shy smile she had shot him as he had blown out the candles and made his wish. The shine of her eyes against the streetlight outside -

"No," he replies, very quietly. "I didn't." 

They lapse into another silence. It stretches, long and thin. They hear Felix yell from down the hall, and Jeongin's following cackle of victory. The water squeaks as it's turned on by Hyunjin in the bathroom, and stays as a steady constant in the background as the host finishes mixing the cake batter. 

"Are you glad she did it?"

Chan crosses his arms. Considers if sitting here with Minho would be better than attempting to drag Jeongin shopping, and face the paparazzi that is sure to follow. Dispatch is sure to already be having a heyday, he can't help but think with a small quirk of his lips.

His mind drifts, and he finds himself not answering Minho's question, instead tugging his phone free from his sweatshirt pocket. He scrolls through social media for a long moment, before opening up Bubble, and shooting a quick message that is sure to add more fire to the flame, and then he waits. 

One minute, two. Her reply comes to him by the fifth minute, in the form of a screenshot of his Bubble chat.

channie: happily taken <3

He smiles as he watches her chat bubbles disappear and reappear multiple times, before finally landing one simple word.

happily?

He thinks this might just be the easiest decision he's ever had to make.

nothing makes me happier than being with you.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #bang chan #lee minho #skz fluff #stray kids fanfiction #keepswingin writes #mine #asks #nobody look at me

[bibibbon]

MHA chapter 419 rant

What the actual hell is this chapter ?!?!?!? What is going on horikoshi?!?!??

So suprise AFO IS BACK👎👎👎 seriously what the hell I knew he was gonna come back but he is so boring and I hate him as a villain like wdym you only pulling up with a plan that failed multiple times cos you have thing for your brother like!?!? The doctor and the hero comission could of been better villains. My point still stands AFO being the main bad guy even though this mf was killed and injured by everyone is lame and stupid 😭. Like can AFO just disappear out of existence already like?!?! Also I really doubt that dfo is true considering this guy just loves to act like a season 1 bakugo and call Izuku useless every breathing moment he gets. Also at this point afo out here using shigaraki like a wet human suit thing and that's it

Shigaraki is dead?!?!!!? Vile. Y'all telling me that shigaraki is basically dead this guy basically killed himself after a little fight (it wasn't little that's a hyperbole it was huge he deserves better than this disservice) sigh so shigaraki died with all his memories and the truth of his own origin which is completely sad and wow the amount of retconning for this is insane. Wdym to tell me that AFO needed someone emotionally weak to take advantage of so he chose kotaro, befriended the guy and manipulated him into having Tenko and then used Tenko as his little thing to make the perfect vessel!?!???!? DAM SHIGARAKI IAM SORRRY HORI DID YOU LIKE THIS

Izuku lost two arms and is getting the worst end of the stick as always. As an izuku Stan this isn't it for me like what are you telling me that HE LOST TWO ARMS AND THEN PEOPLE DO COME BUT I AINT SEEING NONE TRYNA HELP THIS GUY. ALSO IZUKU IS NOW ARMLESS AND QUIRKLESS WHATS GOOD ON HERE??!?????!?!? Also looks like izuku out here being the only one who doesn't actually get a full heart to heart with their villain at least ochako and toga were treated better and got that little sob scene where they called eachothers names out and what not but izuku and shigaraki gotta be sentenced to pure suffering for no reason 🤦‍♀️. Also the whole page is Hella and I mean Hella creepy and off like wth is this it's too gory (I know that's not valid criticism but this is my opinion) Izuku out here being the only one who can't be a proper hero like the guy couldn't even stand up to AFO unlike bk this is just mountains and mountains of disrespect and disservice . SOMEONE CHECK UP ON POOR INKO AND IZUKU

The quirks the backstory the things?!?!. So basically overhaul had the oh quirk or whoever the guy in the picture manga panel thingy which looks like OVERHAUL. This guy had an op quirk like he had the power of destruction and reconstruction but then afo takes that away and then has the doctor somehow somehow genetically modify it ( istg i still dont know how that works or how he could do that) and then TOOK SHIGARAKIS OG QUIRK WHICH (what was his og quirk we arent ever told) and then proceedes to set this child who wanted to be a hero for pure failure. Also what is going on with AFO and kotaros relationship and why does the description of kotaro being mentally/emotionally weak heavily remind me of inko midoriya. Also the RETCON LIKE OH AFO IS LIKE HAVE A KID FOR ME OR SOME BS AND HE HAS A KID AND THEN KOTARO APPARENTLY FULLY LOVES HIS FAMILY HOWEVER IT LOOKS LIKE KOTARO LOVES AFO More THAN HIS FAMILY

Eraserhead making a comeback and finally apologising (or not). I mean at least Eraserhead is back and apologising to his student for failing to be a teacher to him which ok cool cliffhanger I guess. Also where is mic I don't think I can take it if mic is secretly off screened especially cos Eraserhead is crying why is the guy crying like is he crying for izuku which dam as he should your student is dying but he was legit shouting left and right for bakugo 🤷‍♀️. Also Eraserhead has a lot of apologies for izuku considering how he treated the poor dude. ALSO DOES THIS MEAN OBORO IS BACK TO THE PLOT SOMEHOW ( I love oboro) but how does this work how did it happen how did he break free Iam so confused did much due for oboro or something.

Sato, ojirou and sero out here coming in clutch. but none y'all running to see if izuku ain't gonna die from blood loss or something. Cool entry I guess everyone can take a good fight with AFO but Izuku because hori doesn't like izuku and izuku just sucks!!!. I get it 1A is too big so hori out here needing to give everyone their little moments but like?!?! This just makes afo seem so weak it first went from only all might being the one to even fouch and defeat afo and now its everyone thats not the ofa users which great (sarcasm if you couldn't tell). ALSO THIS MOMENT DONT WORK BECAUSE IZUKU LACKS DEVELOPMENT AND SO DOES 1A and their whole dynamic?!?!?!!!!!???!

I Have ALREADY SEEN THE SHIGARAKI MIGHT COMEBEACK COS AFO CAN HEAR HIS ECHO BUT I DONT WANT HIM BACK AND IF HE DOES HE SHOULD DIE WITH IZUKU COS I GENUINELY GIVE UP

In conclusion, I hope both izuku and shigaraki die and izuku to be remembered as the greatest hero and that's it honestly!!

#mha 419 #mha critical #bnha critical #mha #hori is a bad writer #horikoshi critical #izuku deserves better #bhna critical #bnha #shigaraki deserves better #what the hell

[neptunes-sol-angel]

I've been itching to get this one out but I've been so busy lately, but finally here it is. Enjoy ♡

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🕸 Pile One 🕸

Your energy reminds me a lot of Enid Sinclair.

Everything about you screams "if there isn't a lane for me, then I'll create it"—what sticks out the most, are your physical features, they could be extremely unique but you aren't alienated for having them, you're alienated for the way that you flaunt them. Your beauty is both eloquently charming and ravagely seductive that demands to be seen and not hidden for anyone. The way that you choose boldness instead of demurity, can be threatening to others because their validation crutches on what's already acceptable, when they see you thrive beyond these boundaries of normalcy, it only makes them feel like they have to step it up. Your creatively outgoing and talented nature could be seen "extra" which could make others want to knock you down a peg. You're both emotionally mature and pleasing to be around, I feel like your affection and positivity is too strong to resist for a lot of people, and you also know how to communicate or influence others how to communicate properly. You could be considered a late bloomer, but understand that you move at your own pace, even when you're alone, you still know how to be and have a good time, and despite others trying to exclude in some way, you don't project that onto others—you're very compassionate until someone crosses the line, you're protective, relatable (when others get to know you better), and an open and safe space for those who feel alone or like they can't fit in.

🕸 Pile Two 🕸

Your energy reminds me of Wednesday Addams.

You're the family outcast. The black sheep that actually acts and scarily resembles an ancestor (matriarch) in your family. Maybe you were the only prodigy in your family, or the one that's ridiculed the most despite your accomplishments and expertise. You could be unconsciously walking in their footsteps to finish something that they didn't when they were living, or actively working with them through mediumship. You could be the only one in your family at the moment who either utilizes their psychic gifts as well as practice the occult or stepped away from a religion you were born and raised in. You're most likely to be an outcast for not accepting advancement in a relationship with others right away. You'll usually never need another person's approval because you tend to assume dominant roles that actually makes people seek you for approval. You're unintentionally funny, maybe you're a master at dry humor. People hate you and love you at the same time because of how mentally stimulating you are. Despite not being accepted in groups, you lure people in one by one because they see you as a challenge that they'll most likely lose but will still take their chances anyway. You could be deemed spooky, but in an ethereal way. Your effortless mystique could be mimicked by many who both despise and crave what you have.

🕸 Pile Three 🕸

Your energy reminds me of Larissa Weems.

You could have multiple different aesthetics, taste in art, and quirks in your personality which could make you appear as a shape-shifter to some but a deceiver to others. You could be a pacifist or the main mediator in a space filled with those who choose the opposite way of getting justice, especially when it comes to violence. You could be accused of being boujee by how luxurious you appear. I feel like you're accused of many different things by people's illusions of who you really are, like you could be accused of being promiscuous because of appearance, body, or personality—And you could also be accused of being a thief by those who lost to you in some way, like in a competition, a crush that ended up being attracted to you, a position, or any other opportunity that they feel like should've been theirs. You have a lot of range; you could be flexible literally, or flexible when it comes to your voice in singing. I'm also getting that if you play many instruments, you're great improvising different pieces and could have a beautiful ear for composing music. People could feel offended by the way you choose yourself first, or how modest you are, they could again accuse you of trying to protect your image or feel that you think you're better than them.

🕸 Pile Four 🕸

Your energy reminds me of Bianca Barclay.

People outcast you because of the way that you convey your emotions. If you show too little, they assume you're cold. If you show too much or make them feel too much, then they assume you're being manipulative. You're an outcast because you reveal to others what their weak spots are, the parts that they refuse to accept, look at, or feel that they lack in, even when you're not trying to insult them. You could expose others' need for perfection, gratitude, validation, or even comfort. Another reason why people outcast you, is your autonomy and your embrace for the traits that make you mesmerizing. To expand more about your autonomy that really riles people up, is how you have control over how you choose to perceive and represent yourself. Another person's perception of you holds no weight over your goals, wishes, and determination. Despite those who resist your calming aura, your charisma is something powerful too, your ability to convince others to not only be their authentic selves (the good and the bad) but the absolute best that they can be. People's rejection over you stem mainly from what they can't differentiate from fantasy and truth, you could have an elfin face that can put people in a daze, and the delivery of your speech could also put others in a trance as well.

#divination #intuitive #psychic #pick a card #tarot #oracle #spirituality #pac #pick a pile #tarotblr #tarot community #the tarot community #wednesday #wednesday addams #enid #bianca barclay #larissa weems #netflix