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seelestia · 5 days

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✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).

⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )

#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }

#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.

#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡

will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.

you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.

and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?

(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)

but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.

(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.

time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?

time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

ticklish.

the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.

there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.

“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.

there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.

“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.

“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”

his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.

you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!

every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.

“mwah, mwah, mwah—”

“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”

(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)

will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.

(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)

the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.

if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.

(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)

veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.

mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”

at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.

looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?

✧ a moment among the stars:

“...yet another headache.”

as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.

you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.

a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.

(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)

veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”

oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.

you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.

“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.

“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.

(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)

“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.

“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”

“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”

(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)

“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”

“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.

“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.

(your heart skips a beat.)

will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.

how mysterious.

but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?

your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.

pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.

(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)

the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.

fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.

(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)

if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.

as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?

(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”

sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.

“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”

you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.

he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”

or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.

(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)

“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”

“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.

most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.

“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”

you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?

(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)

will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?

after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?

but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.

(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)

dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”

(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)

sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.

(it remains persistently.)

when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.

when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.

(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.

but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”

you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”

he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.

“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.

“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.

“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.

dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.

“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.

(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)

“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”

“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.

“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.

(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #sunday x reader #sunday x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #hsr fluff #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #seelestial.inks

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kookslastbutton · 7 months

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love

word count: 3,328

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events

playing: Unkiss Me

a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰

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From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.

He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.

Recent ex-wife that is.

For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.

That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.

Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.

But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.

Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.

After all, you deserve it; you both do.

Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.

"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.

"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.

He doesn't blame you for that either.

As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.

Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)

"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.

"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."

"He misses you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."

Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.

Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.

"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."

"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.

"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.

Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"

You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"

"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.

Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.

"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.

"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."

"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."

You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.

The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.

"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.

"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."

"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.

"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.

"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."

The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.

"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"

"Jungkook..."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.

"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.

Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.

It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.

With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.

You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.

"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."

"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.

"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.

"Did you—"

"No, they weren't for you."

A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.

Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.

"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.

You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.

"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."

"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."

"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"

You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."

"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.

"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.

"Hm?"

"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.

"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.

You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.

"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."

"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.

"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.

Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."

Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.

Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.

"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.

"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."

You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.

Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.

You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.

Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.

a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘

Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!

masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts x reader #fic:guiltypleasures #kookslastbutton

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lovrspell · 2 months

Text

Reflection

Pairing: Astarion x Afab!Reader (no gender specific pronouns used, only anatomy)

Summary: Astarion can't see his own reflection as he fucks you, but he can still see yours.

Warnings: 18+. Katoptronophilia. Body worship. Fingering. Hair pulling. Sprinkled some dry humping in there. PiV. Creampie. Astarion has an oral fixation. Overstimulation. Aftercare.

Word count: 3,3k.

Masterlist.

(Screenshot ↷ by @cheekylittlepupp, I cropped it a bit)

Astarion has accepted the fact that he'll never truly know his own appearance. Denied the privilege to see himself through his own eyes, he must rely solely on others' description to gather an image of himself.

Something which makes him feel particularly vain is hearing your own portrayal of him. You make him feel so beautiful, basically flawless.

You would tell him that he has hypnotizing ruby eyes, you would tell him about the way his white strands curl around his pointy ears or about the sensual curve of his upper lip — and he'll love it all.

In your bedroom, there is a mirror right next to your shared bed, against the wall. He likes to watch you through it when you get ready for the day or, which he prefers most, when you get ready for the night. Your pre-bed routine is sacrosanct and he somewhat finds it relaxing, too. He has learned the smallest of your habits in depth.

On the other hand, during your most intimate moments, he likes to turn his head to admire the shapes of your body, or, when he takes you from behind and holds his hand in the locks of your hair, making you sink your head into the soft mattress, he notices how your cheek slumps against it; how you drool, how your face contorts in pleasure...

On all the times it has happened, it has always been the breaking point for him. That view is all he needs to come undone. Perhaps that's why he doesn't do it too often.

So it usually ends at a quick glance, nothing more.

Usually.

He had different plans in mind tonight, it seems.

It's one of those nights where having sex was inevitable. It occurs when you feel that simply being close is not enough anymore; when you feel the compelling desire to mold into a shared existence and become one.

It's not that difficult to do something that makes the other shiver with the familiar thrill of arousal. By now you are used to it: you immerse yourselves in intimacy, in each other, ending up in a realm with no name, that is simply all yours. In moments of passion, you lose all sense of surroundings: be it on the bed, on a table, against a wall — on the floor, even. Nothing matters anymore, just the two of you.

“Come here,” he whispers against your lips, finally detaching from them after yet another intense kiss. He grabs your hips and pushes you onto his lap, his back resting against the headboard of the bed.

You follow the motion as your lips come to latch on his throat, where you plant wet kisses. Your arms reach around his back to wrap around him, bodies nestled perfectly like a lock and a key.

As you do so, you feel him doing something you absolutely adore: he lets himself go.

It's always a wonderful feeling: his muscles softening under your touch as he lets himself be touched, loved, explored; you touch him as if you are rediscovering him every single time. Moments like these remind you of how much he trusts you.

His head tilts to the side and he groans, arms snaking around your form and coming to a stop once they reach your rear, of which he grabs an handful.

He gives it a few gentle slaps, something he does to encourage you to come closer.

You oblige, scooting closer with your hips, making your sexes brush against one another above the fabric of your clothes.

His sex bumps into yours as he buckles his hips up gently one, two, three times. Enough for you to feel his cock slowly getting harder and harder under your spell.

The gentle movements earn a languid whine out of you, and you pull back from his neck only to meet his gaze.

Astarion leans in, parting his lips as his front teeth gently catch your cheek in an affectionate nibble, ensuring his canines don't intrude in it.

He adores those soft spots of yours. Perfect for his teeth to sink into.

You grin, giggling softly as you press yourself down against his hardening member; he feels the damp heat coming from your sex, even through your pants. Not surprising after your intense make out session that had been going on for at least thirty minutes.

A slow drag of your hips along his length is enough to make his nose scrunch up as he suppresses a hiss. You big tease.

His cock twitches for you.

But he's not going to let you know just how needy he is yet.

He moves his hands to your hips, bringing his lips to your ear and mumbling a gentle command: “Lie down, darling.”

You hum in understanding, but pull back from him reluctantly. The friction between your sexes had just started to feel nice.

You adjust on the mattress and as he scoots closer to you, your hands immediately reach for him again.

As he's at your side, his hands go for the hem of your trousers. His thumbs slip past the fabric so he can get ahold of your panties too, and slowly, he starts to pull them down.

Your breath is uneven already.

“Part your legs for me, yes?” he whispers, smiling wryly at you. He's awfully aware of how much these alluring commands can turn you on.

“Gods, Astarion...” you whine, biting the inside of your cheek.

He knows what that's about.

“Oh, come on. Don't be coy. You can't possibly be any wetter than what I've made you on other occasions.”

You roll your eyes, watching him as he slips those clothes past your ankles and finally, your feet.

Tossing them aside, his gaze returns to you and he gives you a knowing smile.

“Let me see it.”

You spread your thighs slowly, making space for him in between them — a space he immediately occupies. He looks down at your exposed sex, raises his eyebrow and hums.

“Could've been a lot worse.”

He takes such pride in knowing he can make you wet with so little. He'll brag about it. Tease you as if you can't make him hard as brick without even touching him.

“Oh, please. Don't start.” you reply, scowling.

“You know you love it.”

You're grateful he didn't notice the clench down there.

It is true, after all, that deep down you love it when you're left bare and exposed for him in all your glory — and sticky wetness.

Before you can muster up something to say, you feel a pair of cold fingers brush over your clit.

You gasp softly, as Astarion starts to trace delicate circular motions, swelling up that particularly sensitive spot. The pace is slow, but he puts a noticeable amount of pressure on it — enough to make your legs twitch slightly every time he touches it from a specific angle.

“How does it feel?” he purrs, persistently keeping his eyes on yours. “Feels good?”

All you can manage is a nod. Now, come on, you could've certainly saw his response coming,

“Use your voice, dear.”

You swallow, then mumble “It feels good.”

With his free hand he caresses your inner thigh, before slowly trailing it towards the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, up, up, until your breasts are left exposed.

The view is certainly pleasing to him — you could swear that you saw his ears perk up a little.

He sighs deeply, leaning down to plaster kisses all over your breasts. His lips find your nipple and he nibbles gently, sucking on it a bit. When he pulls back from it, a string of saliva still connects him with its hardened surface. You writhe in pleasure, wrapping both arms loosely around his head.

He rests the side of his face on your soft tit, his sensitive ear right where your heart sings a rhythmic armony. He listens carefully as it beats against his ear, closing his eyes. That's life flowing inside you. Your body hot and and lively and vigurous with passion is something he'll never tire to admire, feel or taste.

He can hear the noise the blood coursing through your veins makes, your heart pounding faster and harder as the pleasures builds.

In the meantime, his fingers trace your swollen clit for one last time before his fingers slide down to trace your folds expertly. When they reach the entrance to your sex, he traces a few circles around it.

“So wet,” he comments, sliding a pair of fingers inside.

They follow an agonizingly slow in-and-out rhythm. You squirm, moving your hips in the direction of his hand — it's not enough.

He feels his pants going quite tight as he works his fingers inside you, caressing your sweet spot in deep strokes.

“More,” you whine, squeezing his waist with your thighs.

He doesn't answer, but he does move his thumb to circle your clit gently.

He has to bite back a groan when your walls hug his fingers tightly and a pool of warm wetness drenches them.

You writhe underneath him and his cock responds to that unexpected motion with a twitch.

He pushes his hips down the mattress and ruts against it, since his cock is too far away from any part of your body that he could possibly hump.

He turns his head from one side to the other and as he newly nestles against your chest, adjusting comfortably.

Then he sees it.

Your reflection.

In the mirror, your arms wrapped around his head look like they're floating.

Back arched, lips parted, thighs squirming, eyes shut rightly...

You look sublime.

It's not the first time he's greeted by such view, but even so he can't refrain himself from commenting on it. You're stunning when you have any part of him inside you and you need to know that.

“Look,” he mumbles, but you don't hear him.

Lifting his head from your chest, he smoothly raises his free hand to grab your chin, turning your head toward the mirror. The abrupt motion interrupts your pleasure momentarily; his cheek presses against yours as you both face the mirror.

“Look at that,” he repeats, his fingers curling into your sweet spot deeply enough to earn a high pitched moan out of you.

Knuckles deep, his fingers now fuck you at a rather frantic pace.

“Gods, you're beautiful...” he mumbles, his eyes fixed on that image before him.

You don't even have time to process what he's saying that he's basically already grinding his hips against your inner thigh. He skillfully maintains a coordinated rhythm with his fingers even while he's pleasuring himself.

But this dance doesn't last long.

He has to be inside you.

You're about to approach the edge of an orgasm when he pulls away from you.

“Up,” he gestures with an hand, patting your thigh impatiently with the other. As you do so, taking your time, he's already unbuttoning his pants. Only when he lowers his underwear enough to let his cock spring free he does exhale a quiet sigh of relief. He pumps it a bit, glancing up at you as he does.

He's not surprised to catch you staring, lips parted to form an ‘o’ shape.

“Up, honey. On your hands and knees. And face that mirror.”

Oh.

“...The mirror?” you echo, raising your brows and searching his gaze again.

“Did I stutter?” he retorts, raising his brows in a familiar fashion, playfully mocking you. “Go ahead.”

You take a few moments to process that order but you eventually oblige, placing yourself on all fours in front of said mirror.

Astarion scoots behind you, hands coming up to the small of your back to press on it, making you arch. He hears your sigh as his hardened cock presses against your ass. His lips curve in a knowing smile when one of his hands cups your rear and squeezes gently. He drags his cock along it again, grunting.

You whine, looking back at him from behind your shoulder. “Stop teasing.”

“Patient is the key,” he murmurs, leaning onto you and planting a tiny kiss on your shoulder before his chin comes to rest on it. He observes your reflection with feline attention.

“Look up.” he orders, and so you do. You meet your own eyes, feeling a certain embarrassment; you've always found it kind of creepy how, whenever you cross a reflective surface and you're in his company, he's simply not there.

“Do I have to?”

“I'm not going to let that go unseen,” his hips press into you and he uses an hand to help himself part your damp folds with the tip of his cock. “you look so pretty when I fuck you senseless.”

You grunt as your lips part in delight, eyes fluttering closed. He fills you with his whole length, slowly, and you're already at his mercy as he begins thrusting at a lazy rhythm. Astarion's lips press on your ear and he hushes you when you whine, “I've not even started yet,” he mumbles, reaching an hand up to grasp your hair so to hold your head up. Yet again, you're forced to meet your own reflection.

“That's the problem.” you answer, earning a chuckle out of him.

“Trust me, darling, if I had let my instincts win I would have been ravaging you by now. But waiting makes the experience better, doesn't it?”

Every word whispered brings sweet shivers down your spine. His lips move down the nape of your neck as he makes sure you feel every single inch of him as he pushes in and out. The pace picks up gradually and his eyes never leave the immacolate vision ahead of you.

You look in absolute bliss, lip twitching up whenever he speeds up a bit. It's impressive how you seem to forget about the rest of the world in a flash whenever he takes you.

Astarion starts to get impatient with himself. His cock is straining and all he wants is to get straight to the point and fuck you into oblivion until you're a sobbing, stuttering, trembling mess. But he insists on fighting against that urge; he always plays this ‘edging’ game with himself. It makes it all the better, somehow.

“You there?” he asks after a few seconds, given the fact that you've gotten silent and dropped the whining. He lifts off your back and straightens his own. His hand leaves your hair, trusting you to keep you head up on your own.

“Hm,” you hum in response. It seems you've gotten quite fond of the slow, gentle rhythm.

He has to fix that.

Can't have you falling asleep now, can he?

His hands find the soft curve of your hips and he gives them a strong squeeze that only lasts for a second, like a warning. It seems to stir you up a bit.

He angles his hips in a way that ensures that each movement he makes meets your deepest spot. He switches to a rapid pace so suddenly that it almost makes you lose your balance and slip your hands past the edge of the bed.

Fortunately, Astarion is there for you.

He grabs you by the hair not so gently, pulling you up. Your back arches naturally as a yelp escapes you.

He grins, letting out quick puffs of breath with every thrust. One of his hands finds your throat and his fingers curl around it, while the other rests on your ass for good measure. He tilts his head back, loosing himself in the warmth of your wet walls.

But he quickly raises his head back up towards the mirror. Your breasts, partially covered by the shirt you didn't bother to take off, bounce with every thrust. And as if that sight isn't enough to make his dick twitch inside you, he catches a glimpse of you rubbing your clit as he's fucking you.

This view somehow encourages him to give you more. So much more.

Until you can't handle it.

He uses the hand around your throat to pull you against his chest: an hoarse moan rumbles in your chest and fills the room as the movement chokes you a bit, but you don't mind.

His hand leaves your neck and find the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to expose your breasts further. His other arm snakes around your stomach and your head tilts back, resting against his shoulder.

Astarion doesn't miss the opportunity to plant kisses all over your neck, nibbling here and there and leaving a few scratches with his sharp fangs. He doesn't make too much of an effort to find the point in which your pulse pounds, pressing his parted lips on it and sucking.

When he makes sure he has left an hickey, lips find your earlobe and he bring it in between his lips, suckling it gently. “Such elegance in your every movement,” he sighs, voice low and alluring. “impressive.”

You whimper in response, and as he tilts his to the side, he catches your hand trembling in the reflection.

Your brain fogs up and you reach that moment in your ecstasy in which you go limp, letting yourself go completely. Your stomach slowly twists in a knot as your orgasm approaches.

“Let me do it for you,” he whispers, gently pushing your hand away, replacing it with his own. His fingers circle your clit in quick movements that match the pace of his thrusts, which, however, gets messier and sloppier as he approaches the sweet edge as well.

He groans as his free hand gropes you all over, squeezing and pulling on the softest spots of your body he knows by heart by now. You manage to open your eyes and see clearly for a couple of seconds and, well, you're surprised to notice that the view ahead of you does turn you on some more.

There's just... Something in the way you know that it's Astarion reducing you to such a mess and and most of all, it's to be witnessing it in real time what earns a clench of your walls around his member.

The way your sex responds to that vision can't go unnoticed when Astarion is balls deep inside it.

He smirks, biting the shell of your ear as he rams inside you, chasing both yours and his orgasm. Your moans sound breathless as your clit swells with arousal under the tips of his fingers, aching for a release. You raise an hand up to grasp his hair, desperate for something to hold onto. You tilt your head so that you can meet his lips for a messy kiss, which Astarion reciprocates.

However, he breaks away with a growl when you start panting into his mouth. He watches the climax happen on your face, then your body: you tremble, losing control over your hips that chase those fingers on your clit and his cock. Both your shaking hands find his hips and you grip them tightly, dipping your nails in his flesh.

Your clit swells and your walls clench deliciously around his member, squeezing him in.

He stares, eyes wide and basically glowing.

His pace doesn't falter, not even for a second, although he pulls his hand back from your clit in order to focus on his cock straining inside you.

He whimpers desperately, getting impatient to come, which results in sloppier thrusts. His name leaves your lips in a sobby moan; you lose balance, letting yourself sink into the mattress.

He sounds so good. You grip the sheets tightly and he leans down, lips against the nape of your neck.

“Just a little more, a little bit more... I know you can handle it,” he mumbles breathlessly, feeling his cock twitch and balls tightening.

He looks up to meet the blessed view of you, squirming and spent as you cry into the mattress, muttering phrases of ecstasy he doesn't quite catch; he finds it adorable how you kind of... Lose your ability to speak properly when you're drunk on his cock.

His hips falter and he groans, sinking his fingers into your flesh and pushing you down against him. He feels his knees abandon him for a second or two as he spills his semen inside your aching cunt. The thought of pulling out didn't even cross him, not when you clench around him so tantalizingly.

He grunts, mumbling your name a few times as the last thrusts guide him over the wave of his ecstasy.

Next, he collapses on top of you.

You lower your ass under his weight, grunting. It takes a few moments, but he eventually lazily pulls out of you, unable to contain a small, content grin at the sight of his cum spilling out of your puffy sex.

He lays on his back beside you, making the mattress bounce gently with his weight as he settles. You turn your head to him, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He's following your every movement with his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly, hand raising to caress your face.

You snuggle against the cool palm of his hand, giving up on trying to keep your eyes open. You give a slight nod, then ask: “Are you?”

“Do I not look like it?” he replies, smiling lovingly, fangs peeking at the corners of his mouth.

A comfortable silence falls between you two, but you're the one to break it:

“I might be into this whole mirror thing, y'know.”

He grins, narrowing his gaze. “Oh, love. I always knew you were a bit of an exhibitionist.”

“...It was your idea, I shall remind you.”

“And you went along with it.”

“I did.”

You yawn, leaning in to rest your head against his unmoving chest. He wraps you up into his arms and you do the same, lifting your head up to print small kisses all over his face.

You both lay there for a while, not bothering to get cleaned up right away: it has been like this ever since you've grown more comfortable around each other. You take it easy, savoring the aftermath of passion and the softness that comes with it, between giggles and stolen kisses.

#astarion #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x fem reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x afab reader #astarion smut #astarion fic #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader

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sage-nebula · 1 year

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Neat Lore Bits from 'The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog'

I just wanted to make a little list of everything I come across as I play through this little April Fool's Day game, because it's super cute and so much fun.

— Tails always carries Sparkle Gelatin as a snack whenever he travels. It's "a sparkly jelly that can melt any jaded heart."

— Sonic is world renowned, but not necessarily recognizable by the average person, even if the average person knows who he is and what he did.

— Amy is a huge fan of true crime podcasts.

— Once when Tails was at the grocery store, he slipped on some spilled juice because there wasn't a wet floor sign. Sonic caught him . . . but then also slipped on the juice because he was running too fast, and they both crashed into an elderly shopper's cart.

— Not lore per se, but both the detective and the journalist can't be the murderer or victim of the murder mystery, and got to hang out together for the hour before the game starts. Amy picked Tails to be the detective to her journalist, meaning she wanted to spend that time with him. Awww, Sunset Squad 4 Life 💖🧡

— Blaze prefers the birthday cake in Sonic's dimension to the cake in her own.

— Amy has multiple Piko Piko Hammers for different uses. She carries a lighter one when she thinks she won't need one for the day.

— Shadow is familiar with Super Monkey Ball, but can't get a very high score on it. Also, he signs high score boards as ULTIM (for Ultimate Life Form)

— Knuckles is not used to receiving compliments; they make him blush.

— Knuckles is a sore loser and breaks game cabinets when he can't get the highest score.

— Omochao is wanted for medical malpractice.

— Eggman has written a combined autobiography and recipe book.

— Tails claims to have never played in casinos and to not know how to play card games despite stating that he is banned from casinos for counting cards in Sonic Heroes. Either Sega has decided to retcon Tails' gambling habits, or Tails doesn't like to share his gambling habits with strangers.

— Amy's favorite band is Hot Honey, and Hot Honey band member Jeremy Bee is her current favorite musician.

— Shadow is not good with computers.

— Espio is fluent in 17 languages.

— Espio once speed-read a book just to spoil the ending for Knuckles.

— Sonic believes in the "salt over the shoulder" superstition.

— Sage the A.I. likes to play with robots.

— Shadow likes chocolate cake.

— Sage the A.I. and Metal Sonic have "let's go dad" t-shirts.

— Eggman has rubber ducks that look like himself and Sonic; they are the angry rubber duck and the happy rubber duck respectively.

#the murder of sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #tails the fox #amy rose #unbreakable bond #sunset squad #blaze the cat #shadow the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #espio the chameleon #sage robotnik #metal sonic #dr eggman #sth

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femmefatalevibe · 8 months

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Femme Fatale Guide: Healthy Habits To Look & Feel Your Best Without Restriction or Unrealistic Routines

Realistic ways to maintain a healthy life/body/appearance (size and weight are all personal, not the most important metric – for certain). No diet culture or delulu-land tips here.

What I've done to maintain my 30-pound weight loss for over a decade, glowing clear skin (no pimples or discoloration, etc.), and super healthy, full & shiny hair, still living life and enjoying it – the mindful way.

Eat home-cooked meals & (plant-based) whole foods – 90-95% of the time

Incorporate at least 1 salad into my daily routine (either a large, hearty lunch salad or a simple green salad as a starter with dinner)

Include at least 1 fruit/vegetable in every meal or snack

Never restrict food groups – whole grains/potatoes, healthy fats, protein-rich plant foods, and produce are all essential to consume every day

Focus on meals, but have whole food snack options on hand to enjoy if genuinely hungry (mainly fruit, lupini beans, edamame, carrots/celery/cucumber with hummus, plain popcorn, handful of almonds/cashews)

Have breakfast after one coffee (before a second) and have dinner late enough (8-9:30 pm) to curb late-night hunger

Only have fruit and tea after dinner; Always stop consuming food at least 3 hours before bed for better sleep/digestion

Order whatever I want when going out to eat, but split dessert

Have at least one indulgent meal/dessert per week

No sugary cocktails – wine, champagne/prosecco, martinis, gin & tonic, margarita, French Connection, Sambuca, Grappa, tequila on the rocks, etc. are great options. Bellinis/fruit plus wine/spirits cocktails are a good middle ground. Sugary drinks worsen the hangover – big-time

Perceive healthy eating as a form of enjoyment, creativity, and nourishment, not restriction or deprivation (it's not if done liberally enough)

Consume a vitamin B12 and vitamin D supplement daily. Keep digestive enzymes on hand for when they're necessary

Always have a large glass of water first thing in the morning (before coffee) and by my side all day long

No soda, juices, sugary drinks, etc. Black coffee, tea, and water only on the daily – wine and no-sugar alcoholic drinks on rare occasions. Smoothies can be a great snack or breakfast, though!

Incorporate an (almost) daily walk into my schedule as a form of exercise and a mental health reset (I aim for 4-5 miles/10Kish steps per day on average)

Do short, low-impact strengthen training exercises 3x a week (15-30 mins each usually) for bone health & toning

Never forcing myself to do strenuous exercise/workout formally in a gym – it's not for me; it doesn't make me feel/look better and throws my hunger & energy levels way off. To each their own, though

Have a variety of playlists ready to go for waking up, working, dancing, walking/workouts, doing chores, and reading/relaxing

Internalizing that sexual health is a core aspect of your health & well-being – on all counts

Maintaining a simple skincare routine 2x per week with high-quality products and a couple of weekly treatments

Prioritizing my body care routine with as much as my facial skincare routine

Wearing at least SPF 30 daily

Exfoliating 2-3x per week

Learning what hair products work for my hair type; Using a deep conditioning mask and a scalp mask weekly

Using only cold water when washing my hair

Incorporating face & body massages into my weekly at-home routine

Using Uriage lip balm, hand cream, and deodorant religiously

Flossing 1-2 times a day/using an electric toothbrush

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gyuscoquetteribbon · 1 month

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^᪲᪲᪲ kisses from all the way across the universe

SYNOPSIS: it was a popular notion that the moles on one's skin are places where their lover in the past had kissed them. but, you thought otherwise.

PAIRING: mingyu x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff, established relationship

WORD COUNT: 900+

notes: npr !! another self indulgent piece because im sad that i don't have a pretty lil partner whose moles i could kiss :( but also i was supposed to post this on mingyu's bday or a little after 😭 also as i was writing this i realized just how much i didn't like how it turned out like i could personally do better than that 😞

also requests are open so you can send in requests if you have any (it doesn't necessarily have to be fluff !) 🥹🥹

it was the evening after mingyu's birthday. the room had a dull glow to it, the only source of light being the night lamp shining bright by the bedside table. you were not only engulfed by your boyfriend's buff figure, but also silence, save for mingyu's soft breathing falling against your chest.

the rest of the day up until now was a slow blur, where the two of you took a nap for the majority of the day, curled up against one another, arms and limbs tangled as though you both were one body instead of two.

mingyu had his head pressed against your chest. he was awake, but he had his eyes closed as he reveled in the feeling of your fingernails gently scraping against his scalp. you look down at him, a fond smile painting your slightly chapped lips. mingyu looked peaceful; content.

you lean down to press a kiss against the mole on the side of his jaw. you loved mingyu's moles. sometimes, when he'd lay in bed without wearing a shirt, you'd take your time, mapping out the moles on his honey-colored skin like astrologers mapping out stars in the sky.

when there's new ones on his skin, you'd excitedly point it out, leaving a gentle kiss behind.

a soft chuckle escapes mingyu's lips. his eyes open and he looks up at you, gleaming with fondness. "back at it again?" he asks, referring to your habit of kissing his moles.

you smile at him, your eyes turning into little crescents, "they always stand out, it's not my fault," you shrug and to reiterate your point, you lean down to peck the tip of his nose.

mingyu pulls away from you. with a gentle dip on his side of the bed mingyu holds himself up by his elbows. "do you think you were my lover in my past life too?" he asks.

a soft chuckle leaves your lips as you rech forward to brush his cheek with the pad of your thumb. "is it because of the moles?"

he gives a nod, eager to hear your answer as he leans in to your touch. you hum softly as you search for an answer in your head before you meet his expectant eyes again. "i don't know about that, really," you reply, honestly, "i'd hope so, though. But, i surely don't think your moles are marks left behind by your previous lover's kisses."

"is that so?" mingyu

you nod slowly before shifting in your place so that you're on your side with your elbow pressed against the mattress and your hand cradling your head, pretty much mirroring mingyu.

"i think," you begin, leaning forward to leave a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose once again, making him scrunch his nose and let out a short giggle, "if it was left behind by your lover in your past life, new ones wouldn't form as you grow. there's so many galaxies in the universe. there's a million different you— at least, that's what i believe."

"i think, new moles form on your skin as they get kissed by their partner. but not just any partner. new ones form only when you've found the one for yourself. you know, your soulmate."

mingyu listens to you intently, blinking slowly. a soft smile spreads across his lips, his features blooming with love and possibly a hint of shyness, "so...," he trails off, "do you think moles are formed on places where the me in different universes get kissed with love?"

you nod, mirroring his smile. "so, do you think they'd have moles all over their body in places where you've kissed me with love?" he asks you, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

you stay silent for a few moments. mingyu always had a way to make your heart stop and skip several beats. he made your stomach drop and your eyes water all the time. but, not in a bad way. never in a bad way.

"yeah," you say, breaking the silence. your voice was almost a whisper now. "i think the other mingyus in other universes have moles on different parts of their body too."

it was mingyu's turn to go silent. you knew he was thinking. you knew he wanted to ask more. "do you think you're the one kissing those moles on my skin in the other universes too?" he asks.

you suck in a harsh breath. it was hard for you to express love for someone the way mingyu did. mingyu is usually shows love in a loud way. his way of showing love could only be described as bright, vibrant colors on a blank canvas.

you, on the other hand, showed love in quieter ways. if his way of showing love was bright, vibrant colors, then yours was more quiet. you loved mingyu, you knew that much. but, what you feel for him transcends the modern definition of love.

and, it was times like these when yoy're reminded of just how much you love the man laying by your side.

loving mingyu was painful. but, it was a pain that made you crave for more. you've never loved someone so much that it makes you want to rip your heart out of your chest and squeeze it with your own bare hands.

you lean forward, placing a kiss on his forehead and then moving down to gently brush your lips against his. "yes," you answer him.

your eyes hold so much love that mere words would fail in comparison as they meet mingyu's. "it's gonna be you and i in every universe. i'll be the one to kiss the moles on your skin," you brush your lips against the mole on his cheek.

"and, i'll be the one to kiss new ones onto your skin that a different version of me kisses in a different universe."

#seventeen #kpop #seventeen oneshot #mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu oneshot #fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #gyuscoquetteribbon

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grandlinedreams · 2 months

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Hi hello unplanned acotar drabble bc I'm exhausted 'n why not use the 'can't sleep' trope? I don't remember if coffee is a thing in acotar but it is now

warnings: uhh poor sleeping habits, tiny touch of angst, reader is Made fae/archeron sibling, fluff

You haven't been sleeping well.

Correction ㅡ you're not sure if you've ever slept well in your life, but you've been sleeping worse as of late.

As in not at all.

Not for lack of trying, quiet plea to Madja for a tonic or tips to help you sleep ㅡ all to no avail. And so you spend most nights wide awake, listening to the soft creak of the other inhabitants and staring up at the ceiling.

It isn't your favorite way to spend so much time given that there's only so much you can think of before you're sinking back into thoughts you've tried so hard to let go of. They cling to you like a second skin, seep and chill your bones like black, brackish water, like ㅡ

You quickly find other ways to occupy your time. Velaris' night sky is beautiful, patchwork blanket of deep blue with silver pinprick stars that you count, try to match constellations with ones you know, catalogued in worn paper from another lifetime. (That often spirals too.)

Perhaps the Cauldron feels bad for what has been done to you, or perhaps it's simply the house taking pity on you ㅡ but as of late when you drag yourself from your room and downstairs, there is a mug of warmth waiting for you.

Steam always curls from the top of it, dark liquid that eddies with just enough cream and sugar to make it pleasant. It chases away the sticky darkness of your thoughts, replaces it with a warmth that spirals from the inside out ㅡ a comfort, when so many things as of late have not been.

With that unspoken charm of warm ceramic at your fingers, you're more content to whittle the hours away in silence. You pretend that you've just woken up when someone else stirs ㅡ often times it's Nesta, who watches you for so long that you wonder if she knows. (She doesn't ask, and you don't tell. Maybe she doesn't have to, the other side of your coin.)

Tonight, however, is different.

Tonight you find yourself with an entirely different sort of company ㅡ in the form of sleek, wisps of shadow ㅡ alive, whirling gently against your cheek, your hair, your hands. And then they're gone, back to their master ㅡ who appears shortly after.

Azriel doesn't announce his presence, but he doesn't have to. You've gotten used to the fact that you can hear him now, can hear most everything ㅡ aware of more than you ever used to be.

All you do is allow the slide of your eyes over his face, his wings, his hands ㅡ and then away. "Good morning."

A flicker of amusement in the gleam of his eyes, the soft huff of air. "It's two in the morning."

You remain steadfast. "Still morning."

He doesn't push further as he approaches, and you can feel his eyes on you ㅡ the clothing you're still getting used to, a subtle opulence that still makes you feel untethered at times ㅡ and the mug nestled between your hands.

"Can't sleep?"

It's an innocent question, a gentle probe at where you are in terms of emotion ㅡ eggshell floor that tends to be how everyone walks around you, Nesta, and Elain as of late.

You shrug. "Something like that." You lapse into silence, and it's Azriel is turning to leave (presumably) that you speak. "I have...strange dreams. And if it isn't that, it's nightmares. So I figure thisㅡ" You gesture, "is better than either of those."

Azriel is silent long enough that you're beginning to feel stupid for saying anything ㅡ and then he says quietly, "May I show you something?"

The something ends up being the offer of taking you for a flight ㅡ only after Azriel has made sure that you're appropriately bundled before he lifts you into his arms. His scent that makes you think of pine and hoarfrost is almost overwhelming ㅡ but his wings are snapping out before you can change your mind, and then you're airborne.

This is so much different than what Feyre had called winnowing ㅡ wind whips at your face and hair, tangling it as you tuck yourself tighter against Azriel's chest. His grip is firm on you, not so much as to hurt or be inappropriate, but enough that you don't feel as though he's going to drop you.

The stars gleam above you, enticing you to look up at them ㅡ and with your face tucked so close to his neck, Azriel doesn't struggle to hear you when you speak.

"I managed to save some of the star charts in my father's office when we..." You trail off for a moment, uncertain of what all he knows from Feyre ㅡ and you point at the glittering cosmos above. "It looks the same."

"Is that a bad thing?"

You press your face against his shoulder, inhaling his pine scent. "No."

Azriel is quiet as he spares a glance at you. You're so very different than your sisters ㅡ not quite as wild as Feyre, nor as angry as Nesta, nor as quiet as Elain. He wishes he could say he doesn't remember much of watching each of you be tossed into the Cauldron ㅡ but he does, everything whispered to him by his shadows.

That you'd come out of it glowing ㅡ briefly, just enough to give the impression of a star, just like the ones above.

"Azriel?" Your call makes him look down, the flick of his eyes over the delicate arch of your ears, the reflection of starlight in your eyes that makes the beat of his wings falter for a brief second. "Will this get easier?"

He doesn't have to ask you what you mean. He could lie to you, placate you with empty words ㅡ but he can't bring himself to do that. So he tightens his grip just a little, tucks you a little firmer to him. "I hope so."

#ㅡmine.#acotar x reader #Az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader

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random-twst-things · 3 months

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The Sweet Painter of Twisted things (Pt. 1)

Hi annon! Love the concept. It's no bother at all, I do love to write after all!! Ty for the request and I apologize for taking so long 😭✨🍬 (I hope you like it!)

Characters involved: Riddle, Leona, Azul pt.1 (Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus pt.2)

Pairings: Riddle, Leona, Azul pt 1 (Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Female reader pt.2) (Separate)

Warnings: Mentions of eerie/gory paintings

Word count: 1,630

Notes: you know what? I'm just gonna post it now and finish the rest in a different post, I don't want y'all to be kept waiting any longer 😭✨🍬

More notes: I'll be posting Pt.2 whenever I have time! I will say though, I have no idea how to write for some of the characters in Pt.2 😀✨🍬

When you said you painted and wished to show him your art, Riddle had to admit he was a tad bit (a lot) excited to see

So, when you showed him your art he was absolutely bewildered.

You, the sweetest person he has ever had the chance in meeting, paints things that could cause nightmares.

Obviously, he isn't going to say that aloud, he has manners, but dear seven, how unexpected it was for him.

He's seen art before. He's been to museums by his mother to teach him strictly of the arts and the "rules" she put in place for them to determine how well a painting is.

It's been years since his mother taught him such things, and she only did it so often, and after time, those rules of art set by his mother have dwindled.

He's been able to go to museums before with Trey as a way to calm down when things are too much. Luckily, Trey was able to explain to Riddle how there are many forms of art and how it art doesn't necessarily have rules itself.

So it's safe to say he's a bit more well-versed in paintings now, even though he still finds it a bit difficult when there's no rules to follow (a habit hard to get rid of)

Now, his reaction all depends on what painting and image your showing him

He will ask you questions about why you would paint such uncanny things such as:

Why did you paint this? What caused you to begin painting such eerie things? What Inspiration were you given to paint this particular piece?

And many more questions about technique and practical things.

He can't say that he's a fan of these types of paintings, but he can say that he thinks you're very talented to be able to make such paintings

He'll praise how well done or real your painting(s) looks.

He's going to be a bit concerned about you, though, and he shows that by (trying to) subtly asking if you're okay

"What gave you the inspiration to draw this?" Riddle asks, the worry in his tone being quite evident even through his attempts in hiding it. "Have you witnessed such things for inspiration?" He asks again, his voice laced with even more worry than before.

"What? No!" You stand up from your seat to get closer to Riddle. "It's not like that," you laugh lightly, shaking your hands in the air. "I just happened to see a rotting piece of meat in the cafeteria kitchen one time while passing by."

Riddle breathes a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. Bro was stressing and worrying.

I say this in the nicest way possible to us all, but this man does not care but-!

Leona doesn't care in a sense like "I wanna show you something!" "Alright hurry it up and show me".

Maybe he's a bit smug that you're showing him something you like to do.

Anyways, when you said you wanted to show him your painting(s) he was being smug.

He didn't have any set expectations to what type of things you painted or what your style was.

Him seeing the eerie or gory painting didn't surprise him as much as Riddle either.

He doesn't have much to say, but this guy is still smug and is definitely showing it now.

Why? The guys got weird motives and definitions of respect and pride so we'll never know.

His does wonder how you acquired such Inspiration to paint like this.

He's not too curious about it to the point where he'll try to find out or becomes worried.

Again, he is smug and prideful but it's for you

He feels prideful FOR you. He's smug about you being able to paint such gory or eerie things FOR you.

(Bros so smitten with you)

You set your canvas/notebook down carefully against one of the plants nearby, careful not to get it dirty or damaged.

Leona lays there, back towards you, unbothered under the shade of a plant, but not for long as you bring your finger near his cheek and begin to poke.

Poke.

PokePokePokePokePokePokePoke.

Leona swats your hand away, but not harshly. His tail swings left to right faster then he was asleep, another sign he's awake.

He looks at you, irked that you disturbed his so-called much needed nap. He glares at you, but his eyes lack the malice in them to even consider it threatening. You look at him innocently, hands behind your back as to show it wasn't you. (He knows better, only you would ever try to wake him up like that)

He sighs deeply. "What is it herbivore?" He asks as he shifts slightly to get into a more comfortable position to get a better view of you. You turn your body slightly to grab the canvas you set down behind you, careful not to accidentally show Leona just yet. "I wanna show you something," you beam, you're more excited then you thought you'd be showing him, for the first time, your most recent painting.

Leona's tail begins to swish even faster, thumping against the leaves of the plants nearby. His tail gives away that his curiosity has been piqued. Yet his face remains unchanged, besides the slight quirk of his eyebrow in questioning.

You turn the canvas around for Leona to see.

And there it is

The smirk

The smug

The eyes of pride *sound effects*

His smirk seems to widen even more as he looks at the painting and then back at you. "Looks nice herbivore, ya got anymore?"

You excitedly nod your head, "yeah, I do. Wanna see them?", you ask, gripping your painting, even more excited then before to show him.

Leona nods his head languidly while slowly closing his eyes, "sure, but after I finish this nap", he brings his arms down and begins to get comfortable. He softly pats his stomach, "Come, sleep".

Azul knows you paint, he knows it's been a hobby of yours for a while now.

How does he know? Doesn't matter. Does he know what exactly the contents of your paintings are? No

His curiosity has been eating away at him. He was so very curious on what his darling was capable of

So, when you first told him that you wished to show him your paintings, he was elated. His curiosity will finally be quelled.

He may or may not have a set expectations of what you paint. Something sweet, something calm or maybe something like he'd find at a museum of old paintings.

What he saw was the complete opposite to say the least.

He's not disappointed, no, he's just shocked.

He's amazed. He's taken aback. He's a lot of emotions.

.....would you be willing to, perhaps, sell these paintings? Many people out there would be willing to buy, and the profits would be even and-

Old habits die hard, I suppose 🤷🏽‍♀️

You led Azul by the hand to your room/drawing room, much slower than he would like as he wished to see your paintings as soon as possible.

"Azul, i can feel you twitching in anticipation just by holding your hand," you laughed lightly. He sighed, bringing his free hand to his temple to calm his nerves. "I'm sorry, dear, but it feels as if you're walking slower just to build up anticipation," "Maaaybeee~". Azul chuckles at your antics.

Finally, after Azuls definition of agonizing seconds. He visibly relaxed as he saw the covered canvas. "My, you really know how to keep me on my toes", ",I most certainly do". You left go of his hand and stand next to the covered canvas. "Ready?", you put your hands on the sheet. Azul held his breath and nodded.

You clench the cover and quickly pull it off. You turn to face Azul to gouge his reaction. That reaction was him frozen in place, still holding his breath (you'd begun to think how he still hasn't passed out) "Azul?" You try to call out to him.

He slowly walks up to your painting, still holding his breath. He reaches out and touches the edges of the canvas delicately, scared he we're to break it if he put too much pressure. You watch his careful movements. You watch as his eyes rake over your painting as if he could take the painting and store it into his memory box. "Azul?" You try calling out again, only this time he responds.

He let's out a shaky breath, "it looks -" he turns his head to fade you. "It looks magnificent, dear," his words were barely above a whisper. You stand there absolutely frozen and shocked. Nobody has ever quite thought this kind of painting would be 'magnificent' before.

"Really?" He turns his head back at the painting."Yes, the detail is vert intricate, and it feels so eerie. It's as if you were truly there." You stare at him bewildered, mouth slightly agape.

He puts his hand on his chin in a thinking position. The gears turn in his head. He turns to face you so quickly that you'd think he'd have snapped his neck on accident. "Have you ever considered selling these?" He asks, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Sell them?... No, I never really thought of that." You bring your fingers to your chin, now thinking as well. "Well, I'll say many would be lining up the door to buy these wonderful paintings!""Really?"

"Yes! With such talent and my business skills, we could -" and there goes the business man into his spiral of possibilities.

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dootdootwriting · 1 year

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♡ SLEEPING with the HSR men ♡

featuring: dan heng; welt; sampo; gepard; jing yuan tw: some light cursing from me, sampo's is a bit suggestive type: fluff, a bit silly pronouns used: none a/n: recreating the genshin version of this post which went viral to announce that i'm now writing & accepting requests for HSR.... and not b*ha that was a moment of weakness sorry everyone LOL

utc for length!

DAN HENG

naps all the goddamn time

the astral express will be cruising along and he'll let out this giant yawn and march gives you the side-eye and you know. your boyfriend is about to gently grab your hand and sleepily lead you into his... room (?) for a power nap

these can last anywhere from fifteen minutes, where dan will just barely wrap his arms around you and close his eyes for a bit, to three hours, where his head will hit his unfortunately thin pillow, and he won't even have time to give you a kiss before he's down for the count

he's an incredibly heavy sleeper, which works to his benefit and his detriment

he gets nightmares relatively frequently. while they don't happen every time he gets the chance to rest, it's around a third of the time, and sometimes he'll even wake up in a cold sweat and flail around to make sure you're still with him

even if you don't wake easily, seeing your sleeping form nearby calms him down. he knows he's safe.

actually, just having you sleep next to him makes it less likely for the nightmares to appear, and eventually, he makes such a habit of getting you to come with him every time he goes to bed that he can't actually sleep without some part of his body touching you

if you're on a particular stop or for some reason you have to sleep away from him, dan heng gets little to no sleep. he clutches his pillow as a (not very effective) surrogate, and wakes up with a sore neck and less braincells than usual

he needs his beauty sleep.

if dan is asleep next to you, and you wake up before him while he's holding you, don't bother trying to get up. he won't stop you from leaving, but he'll do something even worse: he'll lightly grab your arm as you get up and look at you through one bleary eye with the haziest expression on his face, and he'll ask you to stay, please?

alright fine. after you use the bathroom. needy ass (affectionate)

WELT YANG

"i don't need sleep, i have coffee"

get into bed old man or i swear to god

welt tries to have a sleep schedule, honestly. he's just not very good at it

he's a chronic caffeine drinker, and while he knows it's not good for him, he's also a slight workaholic and when he gets into the groove of working on something, he needs to stay awake to see it through. unfortunately, this means he's often up until the early hours of the morning, and you're fast asleep in bed before he even realizes what time it is.

he makes it up to you. whenever this happens and he finds you conked out how you were waiting for him, he picks you up and puts you in a more comfortable position, and tucks you into the covers next to him once he joins you

he needs to realize that taking a nap with the love of his life is just as refreshing, if not more, than a mug with four shots of espresso is

(you have seen him go to a coffee shop and order a "quad espresso" with the most tired, deadpan expression and have the baristas look at him in awe and fear)

the type to tuck the both of you in and forget that he has his glasses on. luckily at this point pompom is an experienced glasses mender.

he has lost at least six pairs to this plight.

welt is an average sleeper, and he doesn't move around much, so despite his aversiveness to actually getting into bed, he is a good sleeping partner.

GEPARD LANDAU

gepard enjoys sleeping with you so much that bedtime is his favorite part of the day

well, for multiple reasons, actually. he really likes the intimacy that goes along with washing up together and getting ready for bed

he's one to lie awake with you for a few minutes and read or scroll through your phones or just talk to each other before you go to bed. it's his favorite time to unwind and destress from the duties of being captain.

he tries so hard to let you fall asleep first, but damn if he isn't exhausted. he usually ends up falling asleep before you.

gepard's sleep schedule is very strict and regular. he goes to bed probably between ten and eleven at night and has to wake up for work around five am (rest in peace)

this gives him anywhere between six and seven hours of sleep every night, which is just enough to get him through the day and back to you in the evening.

he's not exactly a light sleeper? he wakes pretty easily but it takes a few buzzes of his alarm before he realizes that he's supposed to be waking up then.

gepard wants so badly to be the partner who stays in bed "five more minutes" with you, or calls in sick from work just to stay in bed for the day. unfortunately, with his position, it just isn't possible, which breaks his heart every morning.

to make up for that, he leaves a note at his spot on the bed -- it's anything from "extra hard day today most likely. i'll miss you <3" to a silly, horrible doodle of him giving you a kiss

and then he's off to smack monsters over the head with his sister's guitar case

SAMPO KOSKI

"sampo koski always goes to bed on time!"

lies. or, well, he tries? i guess?

he means to, anyway... there's just always something to distract him, whether it be you, or social media, or some brand new business opportunity pinging him

being a traveler, the two of you often sleep in hotels or motels across belobog. it's not bad! sampo always reserves rooms in the nicest area nearby -- he likes to treat you to the nicest sheets and the best room service

i mean, you can't really have any fun if you're not comfortable~

smack him with a pillow please. or a brick!

doesn't have the tiniest bit of a bedtime routine. he decides he's tired, he flops on top of you, and he's out

sleeps like the dead. there is no waking sampo koski until it is time for him to wake up

the morning is when you remind him he has to shower and brush his teeth, to which he reluctantly agrees and smiles at you bashfully

which, actually, is kind of cute

this isn't to say he doesn't care about his appearance -- he DEFINITELY DOES. he just oftentimes forgets to wash up before he fals asleep.

he's another one who has to be touching you at all times while he rests. whether it be a hand, a foot, his head on your chest, your head on his chest... it doesn't matter. he likes the security he feels when he knows you're there with him.

JING YUAN

jing yuan always goes to sleep on time!

truth. he actually gets agitated when his sleep schedule is thrown off.

he has it written down in his head; his bodily clock is incredibly regimented. his sleeping times, eating times, and self-hygiene times all have to be the same every day, or his whole day feels off

he doesn't need an alarm clock. he wakes up at the same time every day, give or take a half hour. if he wakes up any earlier or later than his usual waking up zone, he goes into a sour mood as if he just knows the rest of the day will be bad.

he's another heavy sleeper. jing yuan prefers to sleep on his back and have you sleep on his chest. or on some occasions, he'll spoon you.

the lion sleeps at the foot of the bed

another part of his nightly routine is goodnight kisses and bedtime meat. he grabs a little chunk of chicken or beef for the kitty and gives each of you a kiss before he turns out the light and goes to sleep

if you prefer to stay up for a while doing your own things, he has no qualms with that, as long as it doesn't disturb his rest. things like having your phone out or a reading lamp on don't bother him -- he can go to sleep regardless of the lighting conditions.

i'm just imagining how fucked up he gets from jet lag. poor guy. aeons forbid he ever travel to a different planet with a separate passage of time

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doobea · 10 months

Text

CHILLY - SAE ITOSHI

synopsis: he has a bad habit of saying things without thinking.

contents: established relationship, gn!reader, sae being stubborn, rin and sae have a healthier sibling relationship, sfw, hurt and comfort, word vomit, kinda proof'd word count: 1.3K a/n: idk i wanted to write a sad sae fic but it ended up being hurt/comfort. turns out he has a weird special place in my heart. also not sure if i like this one or not bc work has got me fk'd up with long train rides back

It's been almost two days since Sae's last conversation with you, but it honestly feels like weeks.

On the first night, the two of you slept with your backs against each other with neither turning around or uttering a word. Sae remembers barely getting any sleep that night because of the heavy sinking feeling in his stomach, and he was positively sure that you were in a similar state. He thinks that he should've slept in the living room to grant you the needed space, and maybe it would've been better the next morning, but Itoshi Sae is a selfish person.

He half expected you to roll into his arms in the middle of the night, apologizing and saying that he was right and you were wrong and that everything would've ended on a good note with a kiss. But you continued facing the wall while he stared at the window.

Sae doesn't want to admit it but he's scared. He feels like he's walking on a tightrope and isn't sure if this fight, out of many, was finally going to be the last.

During the second night, he attempts to start the much-needed conversation. He brings his arms slowly around your waist, fingers almost burning at the touch, but you remain still. At any other given night, he would've thought you were asleep but he knows that you're currently wide awake and as tensed as he is.

Sae swallows the lump forming in his throat and fights off his nerves, "I'm sorry."

You inhale sharply and he swears that he could feel your eyes glaring at the wall in front of you, "Is that it?"

He recoils at the sound of your voice, a voice that he hasn't heard within the past day. He feels like retreating under the covers but stands his ground, the grip on your waist tightening just ever so slightly as he carefully rests his chin on top of your head.

"No," but he struggles to find the rest of his words so he lets go.

You finally turn to face your boyfriend, eyes swelled and reddening from suppressed tears. You keep yourself mute, getting out of bed and exiting out of the room. Sae thinks you were going to rest in the living room but jumps at the sudden loud slam from the front door.

He tells himself he'll get used to the silence.

Two more days pass by and Sae tries to stay out of the shared apartment as much as possible. He only goes home to shower when he gets back from the gym and sleeps in a separate room, hoping that you would take the bed. Outside of the house, he spends his free time at his younger brother's place and, surprisingly, Rin understands the situation without Sae explaining much.

"You're an idiot." Rin flips to the next page of his comic, body sprawled out on his bed.

Sae leans against his brother's bedframe on the floor, "I know."

Another flip and Rin continues, "So go talk to them."

Sae sighs while looking through his camera roll at your photos, "I'm going to."

Rin doesn't glance up from his reading and only hums in response. A silence falls over the brothers but it's a silence that Sae can cope with. A part of him doesn't want to acknowledge it, the fact that he hasn't been speaking about it only makes him fall deeper in denial, but he feels like he needs the time to collect his thoughts or rather lack of them.

Sae slides down and lies on his stomach on the floor, grabbing one of his brother's older horror comics that were lying around. He's never bothered understanding Rin's hobbies and now he understands why. While their parents and friends may say they're similar in many ways, this wasn't one of them.

Their peaceful solitude is soon interrupted by soft rapid knocks from the front door and Rin gets up with a small groan, mumbling something about his delivery arriving late. Sae shrugs, too occupied with trying to understand what was occurring in the comic to care until a familiar voice calls out from the hallway. He feels himself freeze and holds his breath.

"Is Sae here right now?"

"He's in the back." Rin says hesitantly before offering, "Do you want to come in?"

Sae couldn't hear the rest of the conversation from how hard his heart was beating against his chest. He tries to calm down the sudden anxiety but it becomes increasingly difficult when he hears footsteps coming in his direction. Rin steps back into the room with his thumb pointing at the front door.

The younger male throws Sae a look, as if he was telling him to not fuck up, and says, "They're here. You should go."

"Oh," that's all Sae manages before getting up from the floor, suddenly painfully aware of his disheveled look in the bedroom mirror on the way out.

Well, it was too late for that either way. He knew he wasn't going to stall this time, not when you went out of your way to talk to him. Prerecorded words empty from his head as soon he sees your solemn figure against the doorframe.

"Hey." You offer lamely.

"Hi." He cringes at his cracked voice.

"Let's talk outside?"

And he nods.

You both say goodbye to Rin before walking in an aimless direction around the neighborhood. Sae notices you keeping an arm's length away and doesn't push it. He shoves his sweat-covered hands in his pockets, looking at the ground as you begin to talk, ready to hear whether or not you were still his.

"I had to think about this for a while," You begin, thumbs fiddling, "...and you were right."

Sae almost trips over himself, "What?"

You release a long sigh, "I didn't agree with how you handled things but you were right. I should've set clearer boundaries with some of the guys at the party. I didn't mean to make you upset, that wasn't my intention."

Sae finds himself frowning and grabs your hands, forcing you to stop with him, "Don't apologize. I shouldn't have gotten mad and caused that scene." He grimaces at the recent memory of the way he chastised you in front of his teammates and the press.

"Yeah, I know," Your harsh tone made him flinch but he relaxes as your thumbs caress his palms, "but, I'm the bigger idiot for not being comfortable to say no. I promise it won't happen again."

"Just... make sure to delete their numbers." He murmurs.

What happened at the party was unnecessarily mean on his part, considering how Sae didn't bother to pull you aside privately to explain the matter. But, to his defense, he didn't even know he would've felt that jealous in the first place and also didn't expect half of his team to flirt with you.

You silently agree with a squeeze into his hands. Slowly, he takes a step forward, closing the distance and placing a shy finger on your chin, gently lifting it to meet his gaze. Your eyes are laced with vulnerability, matching his own.

Sae pulls you into an embrace, arms wrapping tight around your shoulders as if he was afraid to lose you again. He feels your body hesitate, taking a moment to realize what was going on before mirroring the gesture back tenfold.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice barely audible to his surroundings but loud enough for you, "I don't like fighting with you."

You muzzle deep into the croak of his neck, "Me neither."

Sae takes in your scent and closes his eyes. He sighs through his nose in relief at the fact you both are back to what it was before. The way that things should always be. He slouches into your touch as your fingers run through his hair and, the silence that follows after, is one that Sae finally feels comfortable with.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae

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bountycancelled · 7 months

Text

a pencil, paper and an uncontrollable crush

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

opla!luffy x reader

requested: yes (I mixed 2 reqs so idk if that counts but reqs are still open for anyone)

genre: oneshot but in headcanon form? gn! reader, artist! reader

warnings: none, just some fluff!

a/n: I won't be writing as often becusde I'm writing my final rn, also this is short because i have a hard time imagining luffy being romantic so... enjoy!

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

now, it doesn't matter how obviously and hopelessly in love you are with Luffy, he's just not going to see it.

he doesn't see you make starry eyes at him, because his eyes are just as starry on a regular basis. when he catches you admiring him, he just assumes that you zoned out. (because he does that alot too)

so when he finds an incredibly detailed sketch of himself laying around on the ship, he excitedly goes from crew member to crew member, asking who drew it.

when he gets to you, notebook and pencil in hand drawing yet another portrait of him, you hang your head in mortification as he marvels at your work.

so imagine his suprise when he snatches that notebook our of your hands with a quickness to see what else you've steched in there, only to find himself on every. single. page.

I swear that his excited screaming is enough to alert other ships at sea of your exact location, but he can't help it, every drawing you've done deserves a reaction that fits how well you did it.

after he finds out about your habit, he starts striking poses for you and holding them right until your last pencil stroke on paper (or until he gets bored/hungry lol)

one night, you get a frantic knock on your door followed by Luffy's muffled voice yelling "are you still awake? I wanna show you something." so you open the door and he shoves a crumpled piece of paper right in your face.

you back up just a little bit and adjust your eyes, and you see a drawing of... some sort of animal? oh, wait nevermind, it's of you.

it's not the most artistically or anatomically sound drawing you've laid your eyes on, but it's... surprisingly detailed. he's drawn on pretty much every single visible scar, mole, freckle and mark, even some that you didn't know you had.

when you question how he managed to be so accurate, he tilts his head, pursing his lips and farrowing his brows in thought before answering. "Well, it wasn't on purpose, but I always look at you when you're around me. you catch my attention, kinda like food does!"

pause.

did Monkey D. Luffy, the strawhat captain, mister gum gum himself, just compare you to food...? moment of silence, because this is so much bigger than all of us.

after hearing this revelation, you cave and plant a quick kiss on his cheek as a thank you (and as a means to let him know of your more than platonic feelings for him), slamming the door in his face before he even has the chance to react.

p.s. Luffy doesn't have any idea why you kissed his cheek, but he knows that it made him feel good, and he wants to get one from you again.

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #opla #masterlist #one piece headcanons #opla x reader #luffy x reader #luffy live action #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #luffy #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #one piece smut #straw hat luffy

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luviemax · 3 months

Text

paris -oneshot

a/n: song inspo here!! live luv laugh oscar piastri.

-> oscar piasri x female!reader, no physical description of reader

warnings: none... i think, LOGAN BEST WINGMAN!!!

word count: 867 words

masterlist

Formula 1 is one of the most stressful sports in the world.

Well, that's a rather bold statement, but nevertheless, that doesn't make it less true.

Not only do drivers have to be in tip-top physical shape, but they also have to have the right mindset to race.

If you can't accommodate any of that as a driver, it's more than likely that your career would be over sooner than late.

It's a harsh reminder which is constantly hung over almost every driver's head when they aren't performing up to standard, and most of the time, driver's can't even escape it, because the media are like hunters constantly looking for their prey, which unfortunately happens to be the drivers.

Not only does the media choose to prey on their drivers', but in recent years, they've taken a liking to pursuing the drivers' private lives too, especially their romance lives.

You and Oscar had been seeing each other for around 2 years now. You'd been introduced to each other by a mutual good friend, Logan, and ever since, the two of you had hit it off, and history was history.

However, as previously stated, not all, but most journalists had the pretty snarky habit of snooping into the driver's lives.

In lieu of this, you and Oscar had mutually decided to keep your relationship private to the public eye.

People were aware that yes, Oscar had a girlfriend, but nobody really had an idea about who you were, what you did, or even what you looked like. Of course, this decision came with its own disadvantages, such as being unable to follow him to races or award ceremonies, but to you, the benefits outweighed the cons.

Due to your anonymity, your relationship was a hot topic of viewers, social media pages, and articles alike.

It was almost like a daily routine where you would open your phone first thing in the morning and see articles like: 'The infamously private relationship between Oscar Piastri and his girlfriend: have they broken up?'

Honestly speaking, articles like those were ridiculous- and laughable to you and Oscar.

"Hey," You scoff, "have you seen this?" You ask Oscar one morning in the comfortable silence of your shared London apartment, turning your phone in his direction. He peers at your phone for a moment, scanning the page before his eyebrows begun to furrow and one quirked up. "That's really stupid." Oscar's lips pressed together to form a straight line, voice deadpan. "Yeah, no shit." You sassily retort and the two of you share a good laugh with each other over such a superficial article.

You enjoyed the privacy that the umbrella of your relationship provided you. Of course, that sounds a little funny to the untrained eye, but you and Oscar had never been very public people.

It's a late night, but it's your birthday too.

To celebrate, you've decided have some girl-time with all your best friends at your favourite club, but then again, it is your birthday, and you are the birthday girl, so you go a little ham.

If you asked him to recall the events of that night, Oscar would say 'a little' would be a major understatement.

At the ass-crack of dawn, he recieves a phone call from one of your close friends. "Hey, Oscar?" Your friend asks, the booming bass of the club slightly muffled. "Yeah?" He replies, voice groggy from interrupted sleep. "Your girlfriend's a little out of it," your friend informs him, "She's had quite a bit to drink. I reckon you should pick her up." Within 5 minutes, he was out the front door.

Oscar gives the valet a tight-lipped smile as he passes the keys over.

He spends a good 5 minutes in the crowd of sweaty people attempting to locate you, until he finally spots you.

Just for a moment, he takes a second to himself to admire you.

You're absolutely ethereal in the blinding, neon lights of the nightclub. You have a beaming smile on your face, grinning so hard that your eyes begin to squint with the effort of your grin.

"Hey." Oscar places his hand on your arm, voice still raspy with sleep. "Oscar!" You exclaim, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his neck. "You sleepy?" He chuckles, weaving his fingers into your hair. "Yeah. Going home?" You ask him. "Sure baby." He reassures you, waving goodbye to your friends and leading you to his car.

Everyone has their own quirks when they get drunk. Some get really emotional. Some people get angry. But as for you... you have a tendency to get really mouthy. The words come out from your mouth faster than you can actually process it.

"You know," you start, chair reclined in the car and voice groggy with exhaustion, "that's what I really love about you." "Hm? What is it?" Oscar looks at you endearingly once you're at a red light. "Ya know, you might not show off our relationship on social media, but you're always there for me, like now." You grin at him, holding his hand over the arm rest. "Always," he promises, "just holler and I'll be there."

#oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #f1 x reader

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soupbabe · 1 year

Note

Can I get some head canons of The Sinclair Brothers, Bubba Saywer, Martin Mathias and RZ Myers with a reader who sits in the weirdest position casually. Like reader is just sitting in an arm chair with one leg hanging off the side of it and the other on the cushion or something?

Slashers With A Reader Who Won't Sit Normally

Featuring: Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Martin Mathias, and RZ! Michael Myers

I NEVER GET TO WRITE FOR MARTIN THANK YOU FOR INCLUDING MY BOY <3

Tagging: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood

Lester Sinclair

- He formed a habit of sitting in less conveniental ways because of you

- Throughout his time knowing you, he's seen how content you are even if half of your body is off of the chair

- It made him curious

- All it took was one joke and now he can't help but lay his head on your lap as he practically take up the rest of the couch

- It kinda forced you to start sitting up right

Bo Sinclair

- Oh he's very confused to why you don't just sit normally

- It's a small pet peeve of his, but I think you get some leeway because he likes you more

- "Stop putting your feet up there, gonna ruin the damn couch if you keep doing that."

- Though I think he lets you rest your head or legs onto him

- Sometimes when he's resting, he'll mindlessly grab your legs or drum on them

Vincent Sinclair

- He also sits weirdly, but it's all very crouched

- Vincent has a tendency to make himself the smallest in the room

- So if his knees aren't up to his chest, then he'll spend as much time as he needs to to make sure that's possible

- He has a mentality of "if you don't question me then I won't question you" when it comes to how you sit

- Though he does have a slight pet peeve of how much space you take up, but it's nothing that'd affect how he thinks of you

Martin Mathias

- I think Martin has a weird attitude about it: he has no issues when you do it, but he gets embarrassed when he does it

- Similarly to Vincent, Martin likes to crouch and make himself small as possible, but he was never allowed to as a kid

- Seeing you do it and encouraging him to sit however he'd like, gets him excited but he's always hesitant to do it

- It's like a secret when he expresses himself with you, he almost begs you to not tell anyone of what he's like when he's alone with you

- But he'll admit, it's refreshing being around someone who understands him and lets him have his fun

RZ! Michael Myers

- He's the only other one that sits relatively normal (though he always spreads his legs way more than necessary-)

- And he doesn't care about how you sit, if you take up room, he's just going to make room

- Absolutely no issues to lifting up half of your body so he can sit next to you, completely ignoring your objections and confusion

- I also just think that he has so spatial awareness

- Like there's too many times to count where he bumped into your leg that was dangling off of a chair

#house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #Vincent Sinclair #Vincent sinclair x reader #martin 1977 #Martin Mathias #martin mathias x reader #rz!michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #rob zombie halloween #Halloween z #x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x reader

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enhafilthandfiction · 11 months

Text

Secret naughty things you two only know about >:)

A/N : Hello! ik the title isn't that clear but idk how to phrase it, like inside jokes between you, but not jokes, like things in general- whatever read and find out :)) Inbox is open!!

Pairing : Bf!HyungLine X Fem!Reader

Warnings : some crack, sexting, dirty talk, degrading names, being horny, slight mentions of oral (f.rec) at the end.

Word Count : 900 Words (About 225 words each)

Masterlist

» Lee Heeseung «

Intertwines middle fingers with you

When you two are out, instead of holding hands like a normal couple, he tends to fuck his middle finger into your fist until you get the message and also stick out your middle finger, wrapping it around his, forming a little chain.

Sexting each other when you're with friends but both bored

He takes out his phone from his back pocket and opens your contact, sending you a cheeky message. He glances at your spaced out face from across the dinner table and you feel the familiar vibration of your phone in your back pocket. A smile forms on your face as you read the message, smirking and sending him one back.

Hee <3 - 6:32 pm Fuck baby, you look so pretty, can't wait till we get home, wanna fuck you in that slutty little dress you're wearing

Y/n-ie - 6:35 pm I'm so wet for you Seungie, can't we just fuck in the bathroom?

Hee <3 - 6:35 pm Anything for you baby, you go first, I'll come after you ;)

» Park Jay «

Wearing each other's clothes

He absolutely loves it when you ask him for his clothes because 'he has a better style' or because 'his clothes are comfier'. He loves picking out clothes for you, it makes him feel warm on the inside because you're like his little baby. He loves knowing that you're wearing something of his so you could think of him whenever he's not with you. He also doesn't mind asking for something out of your closet, always wanting to keep something of yours with him. He especially loves the fact that no one knows that you share clothes.

Eye fucking each other

He tends to stare at you for too long, just to get you hot and bothered. He won't take is eyes off of you until you start looking back at him. It soon becomes an intense staring competition until one of you breaks. You can see him smirk from your peripheral vision, feeling small under his gaze. When you break contact, he just winks at you and flicks his eyebrows up and down, a signal to what he's gonna do to you back home. All you can do is smile, and he gets your message. He loves how you two can communicate just with eye contact without anyone suspecting a thing.

» Sim Jake «

Wearing matching underwear

Every time you two go shopping you always end up coming home with a new pair of matching underwear. It could either be a leopard print or with colourful doughnuts but his boxer briefs and your panties are always matching. The benefit of this is that when you two are getting dressed, you always pick a pair of underwear together and sometimes he even offers to put it on for you. Even before showering, he prepares your pjs (which could also be matching) and most importantly, your matching underwear. He likes it because you're the only two that know about it.

Whispering dirty / naughty things in your ear

He loves flustering you, making your cheeks go red, especially when you're with your friends. He comes up behind you, pretending to innocently back-hug you, until his lips make their way to your ear, whispering things that only you can hear. That way, no one listens in to your business and it's just between you two. I think this becomes a habit for him and he starts whispering the normal things in your ear too. "You're so pretty Y/n" he whispers as his hands rub along your waist "I'm gonna fuck you so good once we get home" your friends could only guess what he's saying that's making you blush like that.

» Park Sunghoon «

Has dirty talk as a love language

Behind closed doors he calls you all sorts of insulting names, but you know that he's just adoring you and so why he calls you those names. His favourite ones are probably 'slut' or 'doll' so when he calls you that you know he's just cooing at you. He loves telling you what he wants to do to you, all his dirty fantasies involving you. You could be doing something as simple as brushing your teeth and he goes like "Bet I can fuck your mouth better than that toothbrush can" because a thought of you giving him head had just ran through his head. He also loves praising you by degrading you. "My dirty slut, taking me in so well" He knows you like it when he talks to you like that cause you can't stop clenching around him. You love the fact that he only talks like this to you when you two are alone, it's a different hot side of him.

Has codes for when one of you is horny

He suggested creating codes between you so you can know when one of you is needy. It can be as simple as an irrelevant word like 'pineapple' or 'whipped cream' and he gets the message. It could also be a whole phrase or situation like "Hoon, I don't feel too well, I think I'm sick" you say with a cheeky smile. He immediately gets the message and excuses you both from the boring place you were at, taking you to the closest private place and getting down on his knees, lifting your skirt up as he stuffs his face in your wet, needy core.

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themonasterygates · 10 months

Text

yandere! chat blanc 🌑 general headcanons

chat blanc x gn reader

content warning: yandere content, stalking, posessiveness/obsessiveness, mention of killing + guilt-tripping

word count: 884 words

• before your meeting with one another, he was already so far accquainted with you but of course, you don't know have to know about that.

• you caught his attention with how alive your energy was, it drew him in to you. he's admire you from afar for countless of weeks, memorizing your habit of movements and your day to day schedule.

• when he finally does feel certain to approach you, he comes to you as a friendly, concerned hero and asking you where the akumatized person went. he finds himself purposefully putting you in a dangerous situation just to only save you and have you indebted to him. chat blanc yearns for any sort of validation that'll feed his big ego.

• after that encounter, you notice how chat blanc is always near you. everyday. whether it be if it's a slow day and no one gets akumatized, you'll see him patrolling no matter where you look it. it was like he was everywhere with you but you brushed it off as him doing his job.

• with how many times you've encountered chat blanc already, you find yourself growing closer to him. he always subtly flirted with you that would be unnoticed to the naked eyed but you had always managed to catch it. with time, you grow closer with him and so does your relationship circumstances.

• you quickly learned that he wasn't what he was on the surface level and what you had always perceived him as of. chat blanc has posessive tendencies which can be ruled off as him being simply clingy but he sticks to you like glue. he wants to be apart of everything you experience, be in every moment with you and to never have you leave his sight.

• when you're away, he has horrible seperation anxiety. he knows where you are, he always does. but that doesn't stop his anxiety. it's nothing specific but it all stems from his father's negligence (something that you don't really know much of but still, chat blanc opened up a bit to you).

• he loves to (exclusively) call you his "princess/my prince" with every chance he's given. lots of physical affection, no matter or wherever whenever you're with blanc, his hands would always be on you. snuggling, putting his heard on your shoulder with this arms around your waist. if he isn't touching you, he'll look at you straight in the eye with no doubt.

• he simply loves your hands in his. he absolutely loves to draw circles with his thumb on yours and give occasional squeezed. he'd lift the back of your hand up to his cheek and would close his eyes and pur at the feeling. he'd open his eyes, half-lidded, with such a pure and content expression on his face, your heart just melts at the scene. he'll lick your face all over like a cat grooming itself and then would play it off as a joke but you know he genuinely loves licking you.

• he loves to just bite you. your arm, hand, cheek, neck. he'll sometimes (almost all the time) leave your neck with hickeys (even if that isn't the intention at times), preceding to give you a bite mark along with it and then will be smugly oblivious of your annoyance.

• back to his possessiveness, chat blanc gets easily jealous to the people around you and prefer it if he can just isolate you from everyone else. even if someone is conveniently standing next to you, he'd scare the poor person off with all of his glaring as his mind travels to a much darker part of his brain on what to do.

• he brands you as "his", whether if you're dating him or not, he brands you as a "his" and vice versa. he feels entitled for your affection and is unable to handle rejection in any form. he holds you in such a high pedastal and would quite literally unconditionally love you as he unreasonably expects the same from you.

• he's willing (and wanting) to go through such deep lengths to keep you happy in any way. he'll do anything for you, even if it's something he despires doing, as long as it manages to get a giggle out of you, he'll learn to love it as you love it. chat blanc, with no hesitation, would and will kill for you. it can be a bully of yours years ago or someone simply mocking you, you'll always see them again on the news declared as "missing".

• he loves your humility and does not want to "corrupt" you in any way, so when you are suspicious of him relating to the recentissing people, you don't pry much as chat blanc goes out his way to guilt-trip you on your suspicions. "do you not trust me?"

• chat blanc is controlling and he knows just the right ways to make you vulnerable for him but he's desperate for you all the very same. he may have a cold front to others but you bring out a side of him that he didn't even knew he had. he loves you, and he knows it all too well, even if that sense of love that he discerns for you is twisted.

"my heart only beats for you."

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