#🪵 — new fics !

[netes-syulang]

i think im gonna leave satisfactory and a new beginning because i just had to best story idea rn :

Lo’ak sully x oc, only because it wouldnt really make sense if y/n died)

His mate is pregnant with his first child however a little after childbirth she passes away. Lo'ak spends a lot of time struggling to raise his first child alone before realising he can't do it. He ends up dating most of the girls in his clan but was very attached to his mate and doesn't think he'll be able to find another one. As his child gets older, he knows he needs to put his child first and quit whoring about.

what do you guys think? i had a dream about this so i thought i should right it 🤔

[hyukascampfire]

𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg. 

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain. 

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever. 

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded?  He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you. 

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.” 

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure. 

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks? 

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…” 

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s  a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show. 

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition. 

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning. 

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

 You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak. 

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four.  “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you. 

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top. 

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone. 

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.” 

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that. 

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust. 

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house. 

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes. 

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic. 

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder. 

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess. 

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

 You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality. 

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips. 

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding. 

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you. 

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted. 

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good. 

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath. 

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it. 

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it. 

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this… 

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh. 

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad? 

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost. 

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet. 

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

﹙📋﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , @izzyy-stuff , @miukuui , @lunesdesire , @304files , @sunoolver , @cherricola-star , @lickingan0rchid , @xylatox , @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[moriwood]

【AUTHOR'S NOTE】 

Welcome to a masterlist of my kinda decent x male reader fics! All fics were written with a male reader in mind but some of them (esp. the SFW ones) can be read as a gender-neutral reader. :]]

Thank you for your support and have fun reading! 🤸🤸‍♂️🤸‍♀️

【GUIDE】  

🍂 — nsfw fics — mature themes 🍃 — sfw fics 🔞 — sexual content

🪵 One More Shot — heeseung 〔🍂〕

Your best friend Heeseung bursts into your apartment with soju after breaking up with his nth girlfriend of the year. A few bottles later, the true meaning of your relationship with him is put into question.

🪵 Pornographs — jay 〔🍂〕

Two freelance pornstars have gotten awfully close with each other over the past year, masked to their audiences but almost unveiled to each other. Jay, who you suddenly realize to be less familiar than you originally thought, gives you a symbolic gift and a promise you wish he truly keeps.

🪵 Stealing the Spotlight — sunoo + jay 〔🍂🔞〕

You were always the star of the most exclusive gentlemen’s club in the city, with influential figures lining up each night to have a private show with you. But then Sunoo came, stealing the spotlight and pushing you back to the background. After finding out that he has stolen your favorite client, you decide to remind the rookie who’s on top.

🪵 Flavor of the Month — jay 〔🍂🔞〕

Working at the most exclusive gentlemen’s club in the city, you’ve gotten various influential bachelors lining up each night to have a private show with you. Tonight, you might just be meeting your new favorite client.

🪵 Speakeasy Serenade — jake 〔🍃〕

As the token gay guy in your circle of friends, going out drinking just means your friends talking about their boyfriends and you pouring out advice. Tonight you meet Jake, who seems to find you prettier than anyone he has met before.

🪵 Buzzer Beater Heartbeat — heeseung 〔🍃〕

Heeseung shattered your belief that straight men could not be friends with gay men, even if he were a star basketball player and you were an editor in your university’s student publication. At one of his standout games, an old flame of his arrives, making you question if your feelings for him could truly remain platonic. In the aftermath, both of you grapple with the blurred lines between friendship and something more.

🪵 XOXO — sunoo 〔🍃〕

Anonymous love letters land in your mailbox, signed “XOXO.” Determined to discover the author, you search for clues in every letter but you only find dead ends. After some red herrings and an erased memory, the real culprit was hidden in plain sight all along.

🪵 Mi Sei Mancato — sunghoon 〔🍃〕

There’s no place in your small snowy village for a promising figure skater like Sunghoon. With his family’s increased visits to the city, it comes as no surprise when they announce their plan to send him overseas for professional training. What does he want to tell his closest friend before he leaves?

[paninicupcakke]

Winter Wrap Up ☃️🪵🔥

(Fluff HeavyMedic oneshot + Engie & offense team mentioned)

-(They are all still mercs in this fic btw! I just wanted to make a Heavy loadout with his new beard for fun :3)

Location: Red base

Medic was stood in front of a window looking out towards the back patio of their base. Silently admiring the snowy wooded area not too far from them. Four of his bundled up teammate’s were currently outside enjoying the cold weather. Soldier, Pyro and Scout were all participating in an intense snowball fight. Meanwhile, Heavy was a few feet away from them. Axe in hand while in the middle of chopping up some firewood. The doctor’s eyes lingered on the Russian’s hands. Even through his fitted gloves, some of his veins were visible. Medic eerily watched as he slowly brought the axe up over his head. Witnessing him quickly swing down the axe, splitting a wooden log in half as if it were a slice of butter. The doctor bashfully flinched. Anxiously adjusting his glasses as he let out a small sigh. Feeling oddly envious of the now shredded up wooden log. Continuing to lovingly stare at his partner through the window.

“Hey Doc, would you mind taking these outside?” Engineer suddenly asked. Medic flinched, quickly turning around to face the man behind him. There stood Engineer, holding a metal tray full of several steamy mugs of hot cocoa.

“Ja.” Medic quickly replied. Carefully taking the tray from his hands.

“I figured you wouldn’t mind.” Engineer said with a sly grin. He walked over towards the back door and held it open for Medic. The doctor quickly stepped outside onto the patio. The offense team had all quickly noticed and decided to pause their snowball fight. All three of them eagerly ran over onto the patio and towards the doctor. Scout was the first one to grab up one of the warm mugs.

“Hell yeah, thanks doc.” Scout piped up before taking a small sip of cocoa. Pyro muffled a “thank you” as well before taking his very own cat shaped mug.

“Whatchu got there?” Soldier asked while tilting his head. The last one to make his way over to Medic.

“Here, Engineer made some hot chocolate.” Medic replied with an eager grin. Soldier quickly grabbed a warm mug from the tray and began chugging it down. Medic quickly averted his attention over towards Heavy who was several feet away from them. He set down the metal tray onto a wooden table nearby. Quickly making his way over to him with a mug of warm cocoa in hand. Heavy was in the middle of picking up a split chunk of wood and setting it off into a large pile beside him. Medic casually sat down onto the tree stump the Russian had been using as a cutting board. Eagerly sat underneath dozens of leftover axe marks. Heavy had his back towards Medic, once turning around he perked up at the sight of him. It’s as if the doctor appeared out of thin air. Medic then extended his arm to hand over the mug to Heavy.

“Here. Drink it while it’s warm.” Medic offered with a wide grin. Heavy gently took the mug from him.

“Thank you, doctor.” Heavy replied with a wide grin.

“You’re welcome. Well, I didn’t make it. Engineer did.” Medic bashfully replied. Silently fixating on how small the mug looked in Heavy’s grasp. The doctor’s heart could hardly keep up. He lovingly gazed up and down at Heavy. Admiring his cozy attire paired with his lovely form. Heavy took a couple of small sips of cocoa.

“Is very good. I prefer little marshmallows over the big ones.” Heavy piped up.

“Ja, aren’t they cute?” Medic shyly replied. Heavy nodded as he continued to drink, silently looking down at the unusual spot Medic chose to sit on. The doctor casually leaned back onto the large tree stump. Holding his weight with both of his hands while crossing one leg over the other. Heavy couldn’t help but silently gaze at the doctor’s relaxed demeanor. It was always a delight to have some much needed time off for the holidays.

“That should be enough logs for now. You should come inside for a small break.” Medic eagerly suggested, glancing down at the pile of firewood. Heavy’s cheeks flushed at the doctor’s angelic tone.

“Is getting tiresome.” Heavy shyly admitted. Medic quickly stood back up, taking a step closer and caressing the Russian’ forearm up to his bicep. Heavy instinctually propped up his elbow. Allowing Medic’s hands to cling onto his inner elbow and nuzzle up close to keep warm. A wide, bashful smile crept across Heavy’s cheeks. The Russian had a cup of hot cocoa in one hand and his lover on his arm. This day couldn’t have gotten any better. This snowy weather was just another excuse to be huddled side by side. Both men eagerly walked alongside each other as they made their way back inside of the base. All three offense teammates were stood on the patio, finishing up their hot coca. Scout’s eyes lingered on the couple as they made their way back indoors. Enviously wishing he had a loved one to cling onto his arm or vice versa. The lonesome runner couldn’t help but glance at the couple through the window. Watching Heavy and Medic sit down on the sofa and canoodle by the fireplace. Scout suddenly let out an saddened groan.

“What’s wrong?” Soldier asked while tilting his head. Noticing the runner’s sudden change in demeanor.

“Nothin’ really. I just hate being single during the holidays. It sucks! I wanna wear matching hats and cuddle by the fire with someone. Is that too much to ask?” Scout bluntly complained.

“Well…uhh…we could all wear matching hats and cuddle by the fire together?” Soldier suggested. Pyro perked up at his idea and nodded eagerly. Scout let out a sigh.

“I guess.” Scout begrudgingly obliged, followed by a small shrug.

“I’ll go steal us some hats!” Soldier declared before stomping off back inside of the base. Headed down the hall over to Demoman’s room.

“And I’ll start the fire!” Pyro eagerly piped up. Setting down his hot cocoa and pulling out a metal lighter from his pocket. Scout’s eyes widened in fear.

“Wait, wait no! We already have a fire inside!” Scout yelled while frantically trying to grab the lighter from Pyro. Meanwhile indoors, both Heavy and Medic were both soaking up the base’s warm fireplace. The doctor had swung both his legs over the Russian’s lap, nuzzling him close while caressing his jawline. Heavy had an arm wrapped around him and was currently trailing small kisses along the doctor’s cheek. The Russian suddenly paused, his eyes wideNed as he caught a glimpse of the chaos forming outside through the window.

“I hate to stop but…Pyro is setting patio table on fire.” Heavy quietly mentioned.

“Huh?!” Medic flinched and immediately turned his head to look out the window. The wooden table outside on the patio was now up in flames. Both men watched Scout frantically drag over a fire extinguisher.

“Uh oh. Uhh…should we go help them?” Medic hesitantly asked.

“Yes…but I don’t really want to right now.” Heavy bashfully admitted.

“Ja me neither. Let’s go hide in our room and pretend we didn’t see anything.” Medic quietly suggested with a sly grin.

“Sounds like good plan.” Heavy happily agreed. Both men quickly stood up from the sofa and hurried off down the hallway off to their bedroom. Meanwhile, Engineer was still preoccupied over in the kitchen. He was in the middle of cooking up a big pot of chili for supper. The Texan had his back turned and hadn’t noticed the sneaky couple flee the scene.

“Y’all smell that?…guys?- AH?! WHAT IN SAM HELL?!” Engineer shrieked, nearly dropping the wooden spoon in his hand. Noticing the large flames currently outside of the window. He quickly set the spoon back into his pot of chili and ran outside to help.

[wistfulenchantress]

NEW YEARS POST

I love you all so much. 2024 was one of the hardest years in my life, but also one of the best. From randomly joining this site to forging friendships, as well as growing to accept and even (🤜🪵) start to love myself.

if you liked a post, followed me, commented on one of my fics, or anything, i love you.

i love all of you even if i never think of your usernames at the right moments. so so much, you'll never know.

i hope to watch all of you grow and find joy in 2025, or just survive with me. we're in this together, even if we don't see faces.

love you guys so so so so so so so x10000000000E99999999 much

have the best 2025 that you can have.

stay hydrated <3

[free-for-all-fics]

Crossover Fic ideas between Dominic Craven from The Dare and John from He’s Out There! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas and I’d love to read it! I just think a crossover between these two men would be so cool since their masks/character design, personalities, and movie settings are all pretty similar in my opinion! 🪵🤎🪓

I’m not sure what the plot would be exactly. It could be romantic where both of these masked men are in love with you and maybe a little obsessed. They might spend days or weeks stalking you from the woods, building up to them inevitably kidnapping you. They might leave non-poisoned cupcakes and other gifts for you in the woods to find. If you take any of their gifts home, it means you love them back! If you ignore their gifts, it just means they have to try harder at earning your love! Are you long lost childhood friends reunited? Their teenage sweetheart who decided to go with them and live in the woods together sometime after John was 18? A former victim of theirs that they fell in love with and released from captivity after you became loyal and proved yourself to them? Someone with an uncanny resemblance to their past love and their new obsession because they think you’re her and/or want you to be her replacement after she died tragically from accident or sickness (the woods isn’t exactly the safest or healthiest place to live in)? Or maybe you met and fell in love with both of these men in a different way. It’s all up to you! What do you think a romantic poly relationship with both John and Dominic would look like?

OR

Maybe something platonic where you’re their long lost baby sister whom they still remember and love even after 20 years of you being gone. Some time when he was 18, something happened that caused John to flee into the woods. Your other brother, Dominic, went missing in those same woods when he was 9. Neither of them were ever found, so you and your family eventually moved out of the house and started living in a trailer. You stayed outside all day to escape your abusive father and by the time you made the long walk back, the trailer was up in flames. Both your parents were dead. You were found by police/forest rangers and taken away, put into foster care or adopted into a new family. You were separated from your brothers for years, and the house was eventually sold to another family. The children found some of John and Dominic’s old stuff that they left behind, such as morbid children's books, weird stick figure drawings, and creepy handmade dolls.

Unbeknownst to the children, these dolls were meant as welcome home gifts for you. Your brothers are patient as they anticipate your return. They found each other and reunited sometime after Dominic murdered the farmer, so they’re hopeful you’ll find them again and come home. When that day finally comes, neither of your brothers will ever let you get away from them again. They lost you once, and they couldn’t bear to let it happen a second time. Neither of them would survive it. You’re their little sister and always will be. Now that they’re all grown up, they’ll take really good care of you. They’ll protect you from any threats or dangers that may cause you harm. They wished they could’ve done a better job of defending you when you were children, but now as big strong men they can be your shield! They may kidnap you and hold you captive, but it’s all done out of love and concern for your well-being! The outside world is a very scary and dangerous place, full of strangers and shady people who’d want to hurt or corrupt you! They love you more than anything or anyone and just want to keep you safe and make you happy! You’re not allowed to have friends, but who needs those when you have your big brothers! (Or maybe they’ll cave in and get you “pets” to play with so you don’t get too lonely or bored.)

Whether romantic or platonic, you’d be the only living person fortunate enough to see their faces. They trust you enough to unmask themselves in front of you. They’re willing to show vulnerability in front of you and only you. You’re the only one who can make them feel comfortable in their own skin, the only one who can make them feel loved. And they both love you in return.

[bloomingdarkgarden]

You give me butterflies! 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

You said we could run away together and get married.. honestly haven't stopped thinking about it since. You are now officially my wife...

I can now scream into the void "where is my wife?!"

I started reading your Elriel fic because some one said it will be better than anything SJM has to offer, and I can't say I'm disappointed... Honestly it's cannon in my eyes. (OMG the bathtub scene after the war was probably my fave, I feel like after they fell asleep he convinced her to go back to her room to sleep, maybe even took her wet shift to hang in the bathroom, and probably slipped into that cold water because he felt alive! Maybe even the first time he felt sexual attraction to her)

If you ever feel like crossing into TOG I would LOVE a Rowan-ese NOVEL! I feel like he would be a sweetheart, but only became hard because of circumstances. (From his formative years 👀)

Also if you rescind the marriage I'll have no other option to become your stalker..

Your mysterious Wife, (until further notice)

🦋🪴✨🌞🛀🌺🌲🌳🌴🪵🏔️⛰️🫧🐯🪽🦇🪶

Hello angel 💍👰‍♀️ here is me taking you, my beloved wife, away from the shipwars to eat cookies and drool over Azriel.

I love your thoughts on the periwinkle scene 😭🩷

Unfortunately I will not be starting any new fanfic after WBITD, this thing has consumed my life to an extent that shall not be named lol tho Rowan is a grand hot cranky ol time. Once i wrap my wips my writing energy will be dedicated to starting an original fantasy romance novel this fall! ✍️🙊 I love you dear wife i hope your pillow is extra soft ok.

[whinlatter]

pssssst… new fic coming soon out now!

posting the first chapters of a new fic called beasts this week 👀

update: fic now posted on ao3 here!

lil vibe check for the occasion 🌿🌲🌳🌱🍃🍂🍁🪹🪵🪨🪶🐾

'From beasts we scorn as soulless, In forest, field and den, The cry goes up to witness The soullessness of men.' — m. frida hartley (1928)

“And Max, the king of all wild things, was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.” — maurice sendak, where the wild things are (1963)

plus a lil playlist to take you up to the highlands, out to the forest + get you feeling suitably feral:

feeling curious?🦉🐺🦌 ask me anything! (i don't bite)

[ardent-fox]

Picrew/Tag Game Masterpost

Got tagged by some precious gems, including @metalheadmickey, @look-i-love-u, @celestialmickey, @energievie, @mishervellous and @thepupperino to participate in these tag games, hair ruffles to each of you! 🥰

✨️ Picrew Time ✨️

Living vicariously through this sweet picrew 💖

----

✨️ Tag Game Tuesday ✨️

Name: Lyds 💙

Sun sign: Taurus ♉️

What day of the week were you born? Tuesday, needed that 3-day weekend to chill before I made my big debut 🌟

First app you open in the morning: Whatsapp or Tumblr, depending on which has more notifications ✅️

Last song you listened to: Nothing fucks with my babyyyyyy (by Hozier) 🎶

What type of phone do you have? Samsung Galaxy A52 in lavender 📱

Something you’d like to learn how to do: Always been fascinated by woodworking 🪵

Art gallery or history museum? Art gallery, though I do like both a lot 🖼

Your least favorite chore: Cleaning windows/mirrors/other glass surfaces, carpal tunel begone 😤

Do you believe in fate? To a certain degree, I think it's more a combination of having a little bit of luck and making good decisions ⚖️

If offered immortality, would you take it? *laughs hysterically for 10 minutes* No 🙂

How are you feeling right now? Pretty good actually, got the apartment cleaned up, did some writing and met some cool new people this weekend (who is this functioning human?!) 💯

Finally, tell me something you’re looking forward to: Finishing my first fic, been working on it regularly and am so, so close to getting it done 🙌

----

Thank you to everyone else who tagged me in other things! I'm feeling a little overwhelmed with all the notifications that accumulated while I was inactive, so only decided to do these two this time around. I'm pretty late with the 2nd one, but tagging @ian-galagher, @vintagelacerosette, @creepkinginc, @mikhailoisbaby, @lalazeewrites, @chicanomickmick, @sickness-health-all-that-shitall-that-shit, @francesrose3, @juliakayyy, @harrowhark-a-vagrantt, @sam-loves-seb if you feel like doing the picrew (or haven't done either yet), love to all 🫶

[evelhak]

KnB fics by evelhak/glasssneaker on AO3

Hello! Welcome to my so called “TOTverse”.

My fics are dialogue heavy and mostly in first person pov. I promise you'll get used to it. They are also all interconnected, so it makes the most sense to read them chronologically (instructions appear naturally if you start from TOT), but I'm aware some people don't care, so... as long as you are aware of what you're doing and why things won’t make sense.

Most of my stories focus on relationships and personal development and there are a LOT of references to literature and particularly fairytales, also many quirky dreams.

🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀

KagaKuro:

The Other Things

Completed / Words: 346,975 / Chapters: 47 / Rating: Teen and Up

"No one should fall in love with me."

"There's no way I could be interested in someone I don't know."

Key words: canon continuation, romance, fluff, sexuality crisis, asexuality, demisexuality, pansexuality, falling in love with your best friend, friendship dynamics, homophobia, implied neurodiversity

💘🌈 ♠️♣️♦️♥️🥤🍫📚🌡️🎭🏚️🎡🐠🌌🏄🤜🤛🫂

Anything Can Happen

Completed / Words: 42,495 / Chapters: 25 / Rating: Teen and Up / Into the Woods parody

"I thought it was the longest night of my life. And then my dream had a voice-over."

"I sort of hate to ask it, but do you have a basket?"

Key words: dream fic, paraphrasing song lyrics, communication, relationship crisis, genderbending, nightmares, trauma, mental health, subconsciousness, crack with depth

👻💤🩸🫅💐🪵🌲🌳✨🐺🐮🫐🏰🧱👑👗❤️‍🩹🕛⚔️

The Hidden Things

Completed / Words: 302,123 / Chapters: 33 / Rating: Mature / The Other Things sequel

"We were supposed to have a year."

"The two sane ones of the bunch are going insane."

Key words: relationship development, family dynamics, health issues, identity crisis, love confessions, trauma, self-fulfilling prophecies, new players, unrequited love, neurodiversity

💮🌜💌🪄🐇🌧️🐞🌬️🕯️🗓️🪞🌊🌪️🐚🎼💔📝✈️🧊

Kuroko’s Fairytale

Completed / Words: 69,286 / Chapters: 16 / Rating: Mature / The Romance of Silence retelling

"What is your true nature?"

Key words: female Kuroko, dream fic, revisiting past from present perspective, unorthodox self therapy, fantasy, magic, knights

🫧♀️💓💮🌾🍂❄️🌱🔥✨🐻🏹🪡⛓️🔮🗡️⚪🪟🚪

The Luminous Things

On-going / Rating: Mature / The Hidden Things sequel

"In some way, I think... that kiss was the real flap of the butterfly's wings."

"Anything for the sport."

Key words: healing from trauma, family dynamics, neurodiversity, gender exploration, sexual exploration, new hobbies, new friends, end of high school, future plans

❤️‍🔥☀️🐛🍎🪂🎂🖨️🧹💍📖✉️🗝️🔞🌷🎶🧜💧🐯🎉

AoMomo:

The Snow Queen

Completed / Words: 22,453 / Chapters: 7 / Rating: Teen and Up

"There's a story I really like. It's about a boy and a girl who could go to each other's homes from their windows. They had a window-box garden to play at. They were best friends."

Key words: fairytale influences, self-hate, forgiveness, internalised misogyny, romance, friendship

🥶🙈🙉🙊💖💋✍️👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🥀🌻🌼❄️🥪🍱👸🤴🏫📺🧺

MidoTaka:

Lucky

Completed / Words: 12,228 / Chapters: 3 /Rating: General Audiences / Standalone

"That day Cancer's lucky item was... a love interest."

Key words: romantic comedy, gay, misunderstandings, idiots in love

🏳️‍🌈⁉️♋💭💚📕🔎👓🧥🌆🚥🚲☕🥕🪶🌠🌥️🍀👀

Other:

Adjective Games

On-going / Rating: Teen and Up

Key words: crack, trolling

🥳🫠😅😆😂😭🤣🥲🥹🤪🥴😶‍🌫️🤔🧐😱🙄😵😩🤡

[netes-syulang]

— My Tags 🏷️

༄ ‧₊˚ just the tags i add to my posts ! just to make it easier for you to look around 👀 !

# 🎀 — thank youu

# 🫶🏾 — thank you for reblogging

#🪵—new fics !

#🌿—in the progress !

#🌷—netes syulang talks

— netesyulang 2023

[revvethasmythh]

Chetney for the character ask meme! 🪵

First impression

Iconic. Best move I'd seen thus far in c3. I was obsessed iwht this little guy. I think, if for some reason you went back through my liveblogs to that day, I used more all caps upon realizing Travis had reworked Chutney fucking Chocolatecane, attempted Santa murderer, into this new character than I had since........idk since Fjorester became canon. Like I was in HYSTERICS over this move. Instantly changed my blog title (ye olde, long lasting "Obby the Rat's Mustache") to reflect my instant love of this crotchety old man ("Chetney Pock O'Pea's Chisel"). And I kept that blog title for a good long while, too

Impression now

Still love him an unreasonable amount, no notes

Favorite moment

Some sort of three-way (haha) tie between him beefing with Dorian, when he asked Fearne out for the first time (and subsequently missed it by sleeping through it), and the conversation between Chet and Orym about Will

Idea for a story

See my answer to unpopular opinion

Unpopular opinion

He's sexy and should be shipped with everyone and I mean this with utter sincerity. Not as a joke. Not as a gimmick. That is an attractive old man who deserves to be shipped to hell and back. We need more smut fic of him (with anyone!). People need to do that more

Favorite relationship

I really enjoy whatever the fuck Chet and Ashton have got going on, but also there was some unhinged energy that came out when FCG told Chet about Shithead for the first time and I'm also super into how off the walls those two get when they're left alone together

Favorite headcanon

Nothing to report here, unfortunately!

[rose---child]

🪨 Rock-Johnson follow

Hi I’m new to tumbler, when do we start to tumble rocks?

5 notes

🪵 timblr-is-life follow

Eggbert-retcon

Man I miss back in the phandom days, people used to be spooked out about random gross fics with dumb names

Dang remember the hamster fic that was wild

6,524 notes

👯‍♀️sexygirlmax2019 follow

Hey peebrain -you teleport?

74,568 notes

[ruleofheart]

yeah, like, i actually want to write full big-ass pieces but i’m also such a perfectionist that i start comparing myself w everything i do ‘til it burns me out. i know an author who writes 16k+ constantly and it’s soooon good because she’s writes it detailed, REALISTIC, but also human-like ig

just imagining the amount of details i need to add to my fic already gives me migraines. - 🪵

dontttt compare urself. im kind of talking out of my ass because i do it too honestly but...... new years resolution?? we making a pact??? anyway 16k+ is crazy im actually jealous 😂😂 hi. im jealous

praying for u bae! 🪵🕺

[letika]

IT'S AUGUST 10TH, HAPPY TIMBERVERSARY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE 🪵💓

Thank you all for your arts, fics, posts, headcanons, ideas and ofc your love and support. I'm glad to be in the fandom. Thank you, everyone for one more year and i wish us new timberteractions this year 🫶

(+ close-ups under the cut)

[elixirfromthestars]

Ahhhh, I’m so happy to hear that 🥹💖 I wanted to end the year on a good fluffy note 🫶🏼💕 So I hope you enjoy all the Bucky fluff that comes from this winter event 🥹🩷🩷

Currently, 1/4 of them are posted 👀✨I’m hoping to have them all out before the 1st of January ❄️✨ The days from Dec 24th to Jan 4th are so crazy though because there’s Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Years, and five birthdays to celebrate in my family 🎂✨ So between all that I’m trying to finish these up 🫶🏼

And then that first week of Jan will be dedicated to my Lumberjack Bucky 🪵🩷 and reading lots of fics I have to catch up on ☺️💗

So 2025 will start off amazingly!! 🥹💖

As the snow falls blanketing the earth in its winter wonderland, there are but a million and more stories happening all at once. Come sit by the fire, near the window, as I tell twelve different fluffy tales while the snow continues its descent upon the earth outside. . . ⋆꙳•❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆

Hello my lovelies!! ♡♡♡ @the-slumberparty is hosting a wonderful winter event; the December Daze Challenge and I have decided to participate with twelve tales in honor of the twelve days of Christmas 🎄❤️

This post will serve as a masterlist for all twelve stories. Below you will find fics of new pairings and familiar ones 🩵✨ All drabbles below that are based on existing pairings on my blog are written as standalone pieces, so you do not need to read the related fics to understand anything, but if you end up liking the pairing, I encourage you to read the rest of their love stories!! 🫶🏼💕

Happy reading and happy holidays to those who celebrate!!

Tale 1 -> Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader ✦ I’m too sick to go anywhere!

Tale 2 -> Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader ✦ sledding isn't as fun as when we were kids

Tale 3 -> Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader ✦ how is the mistletoe following you around?

Tale 4 -> Detective!Bucky Barnes x Lawyer!Reader ✦ extreme weather leads to forced proximity

Tale 5 -> Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader ✦ you have to behave if you want your present

Tale 6 -> Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader ✦ putting up christmas lights isn't as easy as it looks

Tale 7 -> Cowboy!Bucky Barnes x Ranch Owner!Reader ✦ the electricity is out, let's keep each other warm

Tale 8 -> Biker!Bucky Barnes x Florist!Reader ✦ here, take my jacket

Tale 9 -> 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader ✦ a crackling fire sets the mood

Tale 10 -> Agent!Bucky Barnes x Journalist!Reader ✦ it's too cold, stay in bed

Tale 11 -> Origins!Logan Howlett x Bartender!Reader ✦ can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?

Tale 12 -> Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader ✦ is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you?

snowflake divider by @issysh3ll ✦ main masterlist ✦ bucky masterlist