#I play this game a lot and I want to share what I do. :3

[queenlua]

your post about adding excitement to a story by increasing the pressure on a character was not something i’d heard before and i found it super useful. are there any other pieces of writing advice you find foundational and would be willing to share?

glad you found that tidbit helpful!

first, i’ll give my default caveat of “i’m just some guy on the internet, so take this with however many grains of salt you need”

plus my general caveat on… all writing tips/tidbits/advice? which is:

i find that, past the basics of “knowing about exposition/rising action/climax/denouement” and such, most writing advice ends up operating as a dusty old toolbox i open up now and again.  something in my story's not working; i’m not sure how to fix it; i pull out my little toolbox of tidbits i’ve accumulated over the years and see if any of the screwdrivers and wrenches in there actually fit.  the kinds of tidbits that are useful for me may be ACTIVELY DETRIMENTAL to someone else; someone who chronically overtightens their screws probably shouldn’t be told “have you tried tightening the screws more :D;;;;” or whatever.  and in particular what works for me is probably oriented towards genre-y stuff.

BUT, Y’KNOW, GIVEN ALL THAT

here’s the tidbits i find myself returning to over & over!

* three is a very powerful number.  i have a tendency to write myself into situations where you have Two Interesting Characters Doing Verbal Head-Games With Each Other, and that stuff can be tremendously fun, but it tends to run out of steam very quickly.  adding a third character to the scene combinatorially increases the dynamics available for you to play with.  so if you’re stuck, throw someone else in there.  (relatedly this is why awful dinner parties are Peak Literature™)

* if you’re writing a romance: put a sticky note on your monitor that says “WHY CAN’T THEY BE TOGETHER NOW?”  if at any point you don’t have a good answer to that, you’ve fucked up; rework the plot.

* this is a shlocky tidbit from the South Park creators that totally works: list all the scenes in your story, and then, between each scene, see if they are connected by THEREFORE or BUT versus AND THEN.

so., e.g., “the ocean levels in Tellius are rising, THEREFORE kilvas wants to migrate from their sinking islands and onto Serenes, BUT Reyson is opposed to that move, THEREFORE…”

that gives you a stronger structure than, like, idk, “the war ends AND THEN kilvas moves to Serenes AND THEN Reyson and Naesala get in a fight…”

you want it to be mostly “THEREFORE/BUT” and very few “AND THEN”s.  just a tighter overall plot structure

* each scene should accomplish at least two things.  the most common two things for a scene to do are “advance the plot” and “develop a character”; i have a hazy memory that when i first read this advice, there was a list of, like, 1-3 other things a scene’s allowed to accomplish?  but i cannot REMEMBER that list, lol.  but use your imagination; i’m sure you can think of another valid thing.

i think this is more useful as debugging/editing advice than upfront advice—often, when you’re writing something, every scene will *feel* necessary, but upon reread, you’ll notice your attention is drifting, this doesn’t quite feel tight enough… and you’ll realize, oh, ugh, i just had three scenes in a row that existed Solely To Hit A Plot Beat; why don’t i combine those three scenes into one, condense the action, and also make sure a character’s doing something actually interesting/new while i’m at it.

(i think i see this plaguing a lot of novels that come out of nanowrimo in particular.  i mean, not me, because i don’t have the fast-twitch muscle required to do nanowrimo, but when i read other people’s nanowrimo stuff, it often feels like it was galloping through a bunch of plot beats without bothering to do anything else interesting.)

* if you're stuck on a particular scene/chapter, stuff to try:

delete the current sentence and start over

delete the current paragraph and start over

change the font and reread what you've got so far

open the document on a different screen and reread what you've got so far

print the thing out and reread what you've got so far

open a brand new document and rewrite the whole scene/chapter/etc from the start (NO PEEKING AT THE ORIGINAL VERSION)

go outside and look at a bird for a bit

take a nap

shoot a whiny discord message to a friend about it (even if it's solely rubber ducking, this can be helpful) (though if you have any friends who are good at writing AND ALSO willing to put up with your shit and offer helpful feedback AND ALSO you're not too mortified by your writing dilemma to share it with them, that's even better) (btw, any friends reading this: if you want to opt-in to messages like this from me, LET ME KNOW lmao, i'm really shy on this front!)

if you're DESPERATE: open a new document and just write out, like, "Character X wants Y. Character Z wants Q. These are the sources of pressure on character X. These are the sources of pressure on character Y. I want R to happen but I feel stuck because of M" and so on, just... really trying to dissect what the scene's trying to accomplish? most often, the outcome of this is, i'll notice in that "thinking aloud" document that i'm circling around some central question that I Don't Know The Answer To, and i need to answer that question to usefully proceed. sometimes this will be painfully obvious in hindsight. (e.g., sometimes you'll go back to your outline and you'll realize you've literally just hit the bullet point that says UGH OKAY THEY GET TOGETHER SOMEHOW I'LL FIGURE THIS OUT LATER, and you're like, ugh, fuck, it's now later, why is past-me such a bitch!) but them's the breaks. (in particular, i remember getting catastrophically stuck on a "meet the parents" story until i realized i was... avoiding actually writing out the "meet the parents" scene... which feels "well duh" in hindsight! but, like, hey, in order to write that scene, i needed to commit to some specific decisions on What The Story Was About, the same way artists gotta eventually erase a bunch of sketchy lines to commit to the Lines They Will Actually Be Inking, and that decision point feels hard and scary and no wonder i waffled lol)

okay so that's all the super-specific-concrete advice. here's some stuff that's more big-picture but i've still found personally useful:

* i once went to a talk where a novelist said she doesn't start writing a novel until she knows exactly what she wants it to look like on the bookshelf. as in: is it a schlocky trade paperback or is it a beautiful hardcover thing with fancy paper? does it have IMPACT FONT for the title or something handwriting-y? how many pages is it? and so on.

in service of this aim, she never writes any of the novel (no notes, no outlines, no snippets of dialogue, nothing) until she has that image vividly in her mind + she can't physically STAND not writing it any longer. for her, this process allows her to be sure that she knows what her novel is about—not necessarily in every single detail or plot beat (though, often she has a lot of that in mind before starting), but in terms of "what am i trying to say," "how do i want the world to look at it," etc, and she's found through hard experience that, while it's easy for her to start novels, it's often hard for her to finish them unless she has that crystal-clear image in her mind.

i can’t quite do her purity-of-method (my brain is scrambled eggs; i HAVE to write down snatches of dialogue and such before i get started on something or it all leaks out of my ears), but i see a lot of wisdom in it.  i do a lot of prewriting & thinking & scribbling out little snatches of dialogue and such before i really begin writing. i think everyone develops their own little heuristic for when they can be reasonably confident they know what their story is about, so you should try and figure out what that heuristic is for you & learn to trust it if you can? (a common one you hear a lot is "i have to know how the story ends / what the ending feels like," which makes sense; endings usually have a lot to do with what a story is About. i know NK Jemisin mentioned once she can't really start until she's nailed down the voice, and that also makes sense to me—you read The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms and it's very clear that her choice of voice is a large part of what drives the story, it has a propulsive force of its own; it's The Thing that blasts the whole thing open for her. for me, i'm not sure i have a tidy heuristic, but there's a point where i've written enough snatches of dialogue plus bits of scenes that i've unlocked some core thing that i'm really excited about—i keep spinning out bits of dialogue and setting and such that are related to that thing, i'm so excited to see how that thing plays out across the story, i look at my outline and see only possibilities and wonder instead of connective tissue that needs to be filled in... and then, yeah, i'll know i'm cooking, but not one second before!)

note that the story is allowed to surprise me & change on me once i get properly started—my longfic changed substantially when i realized Reyson’s perspective needed a LOT more room to breathe than i had accounted for in the outline, and then changed substantially again when i realized the butterfly-effect-style implications that keeping Leanne around had for my entire storyline—the ending wound up being TOTALLY different than what i'd originally planned!—but like, in that case, i don't think my sense of what the story was about ever fundamentally changed; i just added two more huge elements that orbited that about-ness. if that makes sense.

* i think about this passage from Bayles & Orland's Art and Fear a lot. i'm actually not sure that advice is helpful for literally everyone—i do see people who somehow manage to write the same fucking thing over and over, for years and years, and never seem to develop their craft or make any movement toward saying something interesting.

but i do think most people are developing something even when it feels like "the same thing over and over," and as someone who probably tends toward too little output, i found it a useful reminder that returning to familiar forms, themes, and characters across pieces is intensely useful if it gets you in front of the keyboard again, so don't stress over novelty too much. (i find, if i'm still returning to a particular form/theme/character, it's because i feel like i still have some interesting new perspective on it that's genuinely worth exploring. if i have actually exhausted a topic, i'll know it because i myself will get bored, but anyone else's opinion is irrelevant!)

* ursula k le guin's steering the craft is more focused on craft & nuts n bolts than plot-debugging-type-things but i thought i'd give it a shout-out here because i've just found it so perpetually useful over the years. in particular we could all stand to read our stuff aloud more often; that fixes a lot of problems and she goes on about that in detail in chapter 1 haha

* oh, also, re: my "put more pressure on the characters" advice—you've probably already intuited this, but i think i found that framing more useful than the kinds of "raise the stakes / make sure every character has Stakes / Wants Something" advice you're likely to find in screenwriting workshops, because this framing feels like a more... abstract... way of talking about the same thing?

like, often those two types of advice are addressing the same problem, but when i start off thinking about "where is the pressure on these characters," i don't just have to think "time to heap more pressure on them," i can also, like. observe. where the pressure points in my work are. i'm not presupposing a solution. maybe there's a ton of pressure but it's the wrong kind of pressure. maybe there's a ton of pressure but there's nowhere satisfying for that pressure to go. it's very woo/fuzzy but yeah i use the general principle of "pressure" to frame a LOT of how i think about story construction; maybe that'll be useful to you!

* FINALLY, i don't have a nice packaged heuristic/tidbit/tool-shaped thing for this one yet, but i've been thinking a lot about how much perspective really Changes Everything about a work. your choice of PoV should be exceedingly deliberate; you should be taking maximum advantage of your choice of PoV at all times (what do they know? what don't they know? how do they think about the world? etc); also if you're editing something and you're noticing a lot of unconscious perspective breaks, that's a warning sign something's going badly wrong in how you're approaching the story overall—perspective should just be unconsciously correct if you're hitting stuff right imo

OK WOW SORRY THAT GOT SO LONG but hope at least one of these lil bullets are useful for ya! happy writing~

[kingmaxstatic]

Goodmorning, Goodbye and Goodnight: A Post About Farewells.

... How do you break away from something or a piece of yourself for so long? Or at the very least, do so in the public eye?

Let's not beat around the bush.

I'm not happy in the Sonic fandom at the moment.

(More below the post)

So let me make this PERFECTLY CLEAR I have not fallen out of love for Sonic. I still adore Sonic and I will more than continue to enjoy it!

But I'm unsure if that enjoyment can really be.. public.. for the time being.

For a while I've always couldn't help but notice that the fandom is a bundle of bickerers. Makes sense. Most of us here are ND and VERY opinionated!

But this all came to ahead when I was watching a video about Amy Rose. And as I watched, as interested as I was. A video dissecting her current writing I realized something...

I was fucking miserable!

Why do I CARE so much about other people's opinions about something I enjoy? Even if I cringe at that one bumblecast clip of Ian saying "he wishes he could redesign Amy".

Even IF I understand the concern.

I still LOVE Modern Amy! I was letting this video give me insight, yes but it also made me feel guilt for even LIKING IDW's take on Amy (and IDW in general).

Infact guilt is something I've felt A LOT in the fandom.

Shit man, Starline is my FAVORITE character in sonic, period. But it feels like both the fandom (and the writers, to an extent) want to guilt you into not liking him.

That liking him is some moral failing on YOUR part? (Literally Ignoring the fact we've literally had a few years to grow attached pre-imposter syndrome and that he didn't just magically appear post-Chao Race Arc)

Yes, Starline sucks. Yes, he (in canon) used two random mobians for cyborg stuff. I know this. He's still an enjoyable character and I don't excuse his canon actions. It's even why in my own canon of him Imposter syndrome isn't canon.

I'm tired of the stress, man. I'm tired of not enjoying Starline. I haven't been able to properly enjoy him in a wile.

For my birthday I actually bought a Bad Guys physical copy!

And I have not touched it at all.

The stress of keeping up with this fandom has actually caused me literal anxiety shivers. I don't have fun any more. There's just.. too much discourse.

And I think it's best for me if I take a step back from it. At least.

So.. What Happens Now?

Well! What happens now is that I take a public step back from the fandom! Like I said I still very much enjoy Sonic.. I just don't think that enjoyment will be AS public any more. Gush about it with friends! Play the games! Draw art.. For Myself!

This doesn't mean I won't be keeping a close eye on my sonic moots (you haven't gotten rid of me JUST yet!) but it does mean I'll probably start blocking tags. Taking some breathing room. Finding that love for Sonic again on my OWN time. Be a lil selfish with it!

I still love and adore my ocs (and they'll still be around on Toyhouse and Art Fight!) But their stories are mine to share.. and sometimes I can just.. not share them!

What happens to this Blog?

SHIT MAN! I'll still be around! I probably just won't be posting in the sonic tag any time soon. I'm in OTHER fandoms right now (Nicktoons, Crash, Etc) If you like my writing and my art In THIS fandom surely you'll enjoy it in others!/pos

Even if those fandoms are more.. obscure to say the least? This Blog, at it's core, has always been ABOUT multifandom stuff and It feels like it's finally returning to that!

Nature is healing! KingMaxStatic is finally posting about WEIRD fandoms only 3 people know about again!!

What Happens To Starvoltz?

Though not an as.. urgent question. It's one I feel has held a lot of weight, at least to me. I know people are GENUINELY such big fans of Starvoltz and I think it's been the ONE BIG THING keeping me back from making me step back from the fandom...

So... I'm killing both Starline and Voltz off..../j (I would never)

I still LOVE and ADORE Starline and Voltz! They mean the world to me (and even the MOON to me!) But over the course of the past few months I've felt a nagging GUILT about them.. and I don't want to feel that anymore. I want to ADORE Starvoltz like I used to...

and In order for me to do that I GOTTA step back.

If you wanna get a lil cute about it, you can think about it like the two going on a honey moon or a vacation!

If you've made it thus far.. thank you. Genuinely. Thank you for understanding! I hope you understand. I love sonic, I will always love sonic. But I need my own space to love Sonic.

I suppose maybe like the main character I need to be free.

Free like the wind.

[six-improbable-things]

I had to open the ship combat rules doc I made for Rook's campaign the other day, and man, that thing was (and still is tbh) my fucking magnum opus. I put so much effort into creating rules for a type of combat that dnd doesn't naturally support, and it was SUCH a fun challenge. I'll admit it's not perfect, but it works for our campaign, and everyone seemed to like it during our one test so far, so that's good enough for me.

I think between the stat blocks, the rules themselves, and the maps of the ships, I spent easily 48 hours total on making this sailing arc happen. (No, I'm not the DM, I just like homebrewing shit, and also happen to be the one who decided to play a pirate and make that involved in the story.)

[keeps-ache]

been telling my siblings 'you would NOT make it in vulcan academy' when they do smth goofy recently and nobody's been able to refute lol

[allovertheplace-writing]

Shroom 😭 ilysm <33 thank you, thank you for being my friend!

@nordicbananas (ty for tagging me! i didn't know i was your first friend on here - i'm very much honored <333) @omkookie @azxremoon @astrxealis @meltingblue

i may not have many friends, but i love each and every one of you so so much. you guys have always motived me to keep writing and to keep being here on tumblr. without a doubt, i wouldn't have gotten this far without any of you. So thank you ♡

2023 is coming to an end so this is my annual I love my online friends so fucking much you wouldn't believe me if I told you post.

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[crest-of-gautier]

i probably have lots of epic and swag clips of me playing splatoon 3 however i keep forgetting to rewatch them or compile them so this account's collected a lot of dust 🙈 but at least i am having fun with art?! <- guy who's mostly been drawing

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 3 | part 4 is up! scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[fairyofshampgyu]

☆ Me? Pegged?!

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

Pairing: college bf ! beomgyu x dom ! fem reader

Warnings: pegging, soft sex, sub beomgyu, dom reader, fluff, male masturbation, mentions of porn, anal fingering, use of strap on, hand job, hand holding during sex, beomgyu cries but bc he’s emotional lolol, use of petnames ‘puppy’, ‘baby’, gendered term, reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ and afab, disgustingly fluffy

synopsis: your skeptical boyfriend gets pegged for the first time <3 To say the least he definitely enjoys it a lot more than he expected.

word count: 2.8k

“What? Like, in my ass?” Beomgyu, splutters eyebrows raised and asking in a hushed tone, looking cautiously left to right seemingly embarrassed. Although, you were a little confused what he was looking for, given you were both inside his dorm room…and the only people in there.

His demeanour, a total whiplash to a few moments prior when he had very proudly won the fighting game you both were playing together.

“Well, yeah in your ass.” You deadpan at him. “It’s called pegging. It’s just something I think could be fun for us to try and share together and I want to make you feel good! But it’s okay if you don’t want to-”

“No! I’ll-I can try. For you. I’ve just-I’ve never really thought of it before. It seems…intense...” Beomgyu looks down with a pout, fiddling with his thumbs, legs crossed on his bed.

“Gyu,” You cup his cheek and he leans into your touch almost instantly, looking back up at you, practically purring at the nickname and your gesture, “if you’re not comfortable with it we won’t. We don’t have to just because I want to. I just wanted to know your thoughts on it. ”

Beomgyu was always an open minded person when it came to sex, always down to try things at least once. Both of you were pretty compatible in that sense, easily bored when things were kept the same. You liked how experimental and open he was with you.

Beomgyu rubs at the back of his head and nods slowly, still looking skeptical. “I want to try it with you. I trust you. But, I just don’t think I’ll really find it that enjoyable though. I’ll think about it.”

Not that beomgyu would admit to you, but after the topic of pegging was brought up, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It made a strange feeling pool in his stomach, unsure if it was a good or bad thing. Would it even feel good? What would it feel like? It’d probably feel weird right? And the thought of being so vulnerable was a little scary. He knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about with you but it still felt a little too daunting.

To say the least, beomgyu was curious, and many nights contemplating brought him to conduct his own research. Grabbing his laptop, the only light shining in his dark room at the ungodly hours of a thursday night, he went to the only place he knew would have some sort of answers—the internet and he began sheepishly typing into the search bar.

To his surprise, he came across many dudes enthusiastically raving about it on reddit and how it completely changed their view of life—he thinks some of them were being a little bit dramatic.

He also watched a few videos, for research purposes only. He stared at his screen, mouth agape and feeling a flush creep up his neck, cheeks growing increasingly heated at what he sees. Woah. Maybe. This might actually be….

He couldn’t help imagining you doing that to him instead, mind painting vivid pictures of you, imagining your hands on his hips and breath against his neck, being handled like that. It was strangely arousing.

Suddenly beomgyu was squirming in his bed, one hand hesitantly slipping down his grey sweatpants as he bit his bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows furrowed as he began embarrassedly and frantically jerking off his now red and hard dick to the thought of you pegging him.

Faster than he thought, beomgyu was cumming heaps with a hand slapped to his mouth to stop himself from loudly moaning out your name (the college walls were very thin. He knew from experience.) and completely making a mess, soiling his sweats with a muffled whimper instead.

He lay there gasping and panting flushed, left to ponder his actions and new found revelation. It was kind of hot? Or maybe it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing. He couldn’t actually find that hot, right?

Fuck.

There wasn’t much beomgyu kept from you, usually he’d be the one to talk your ear off about the most mundane, silliest things of his day as you both cuddled closely together. However, he’d purposefully failed to mention his recent porn search history and the fact that he’s been cumming a heck of a lot faster than he’d like to admit at the thought of his girlfriend fucking him in the ass.

It’s only made him more curious about whether he’d actually like it. There was only one way to find out and that was to just see for himself. So he knew he had to bring it up with you somehow again without sounding like a crazed freak.

You were studying in the library when beomgyu approached you, textbooks spread out in front of you as you furiously typed notes on your laptop. Beomgyu leans in to peck your cheek before taking a seat beside you and you looked up, lifting your headphones from your ears. “Oh you’re studying as well?”

Beomgyu gives you an incredulous look as if it was absolutely outrageous to suggest he’d be doing that. “Um no.” He clears his throat, trying to sound as nonchalant and cool as possible, “so, uh, remember that thing we talked about?”

You furrow your brows unsure of what he was talking about, but given how incredibly embarrassed he looked, you had an inkling of what it might be and you try not to laugh, heavily amused, accidentally saying it bit too loud, “Oh you mean pegging?”

He looks around frantically, eyes wide with panic as he tries to gauge if anyone else had heard, then he hits your arm and shoves you. “You don’t have to be so loud, my god.”

You can see the tips of his cute ears going pink as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to,” chuckling softly, you put your hands up in defence so he wouldn’t shove you again.

Beomgyu just narrows his eyes at you and scoffs, “Yeah, so anyway. I was just thinking, you know, maybe we should actually... give it a try? I mean, if you're still interested," he said, his words tumbling out in a rush.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “So, you’ve been thinking about it?” you teased, leaning in closer. “What changed your mind?”

"Well, I've been doing some, uh, research," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "And, maybe it doesn't sound so bad after all. I mean, I’m not saying I’m dying to try it or anything. But, you know, I’m open to the idea. I guess.”

“Sure, sure,” you say giggling into your textbook. “You guess…”

Beomgyu flicks your forehead playfully, furrowing his brows. “Shut up.”

“Oww!” You rub your forehead soothingly, “We’ll try it soon then, yeah?”

He pretends to think about it, even though his excitement is barely contained. You could practically see his tail wagging and brown puppy eyes lighting up. “Yeah, we could do that.”

Today is the day beomgyu will finally get why a bunch of dudes from reddit are so into being pegged by their girlfriends. Unfortunately for beomgyu though, he was currently stuck in class, wanting more than ever to just be in your dorm, but he had to wait.

The professor's voice drones on, the words blending into a meaningless blur as Beomgyu stole glances at the clock every few seconds. Each tick seemed to echo in his head like a countdown to freedom, and he couldn't help but let out an impatient sigh, mind racing with thoughts of what awaited him once this torturous lecture finally ended.

Meanwhile, you were finding immense amusement in Beomgyu's predicament and you couldn’t help but send him teasing texts during his class to make him even more pathetically desperate.

Beomgyu's eyes widened as he read the message, his cheeks flushing red. He bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan of frustration. He typed back quickly, fingers fumbling with the keys.

Beom🧸🎸: This is pure evil ! You’re so mean :( 😞💔😪👎

You can’t help giggling, typing back a sarcastic response.

aww what a poor puppy. You’ll just have to wait.

Beom🧸🎸: why can’t I just skip bro🧍‍♂️

You tell him he’s not allowed to skip and that he has to sit through the entirety of it just to torture him some more. Beomgyu pouts, his bottom lip sticking out in a comically exaggerated manner at the text, earning a weird look from Soobin who sat next to him.

Finally, the professor dismisses the class, and Beomgyu practically leaped out his seat, gathering his notebook and laptop and shoving it in his bag in record time. He dashes out of the lecture hall, barely acknowledging soobin’s farewell. Beomgyu’s heart racing as he practically sprinted across campus to your dorm.

When he reached your door, he knocked eagerly, breathing heavily and you swung open the door.

Without a word, Beomgyu pulled you into a passionate kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he pressed you against the doorframe. He couldn't wait any longer; the anticipation had built up to an almost unbearable level, and now that he was finally here with you, all he wanted was to feel close to you.

You chuckled softly against his lips, teasingly pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Someone's eager," you run a hand through his tousled hair.

Beomgyu grins, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement as he stares down at you with half lidded eyes. "Can you blame me? You’ve been torturing me!" He pouts, staring down at your lips before kissing you again.

You’ve been meticulously prepping beomgyu for god knows how long now, but you wanted to make absolute sure that he was stretched out well so you wouldn’t hurt him one bit.

His soft, breathy moans fill the room as your lubed fingers slide in and out of his cute, pink hole repeatedly. He seemed to like it so far, each gentle movement makes him cling tighter to the pink silk pillow pressed against his chest, hugging it with his eyes blissfully closed, legs spread wide as he lay on your bed.

“Do you think you’re ready, baby?”

He opens his eyes, meeting your gaze with a needy look, and cutely nods, taking a few deep breaths. “Yeah- please.. I want you noww..”

You give him a weary glance. “I don’t want to hurt you though.”

Beomgyu shakes his head softly, still hugging the pink silk pillow tightly, even if he’s a little nervous, he desperately wants to feel you. He swallows, looking directly into your eyes and whines. “I’ll be fine. pleasee”

Sighing, you step into the harness of the strap-on (you’d made sure to order the cutest and prettiest one you saw online), coating the silicone in generous amounts of lube before returning back to beomgyu on the bed.

You gently place his dainty ankles over your shoulders, kissing on his inner thighs and pretty white sock clad legs and ankles as you do so.

You can’t stop staring in awe. Heart swelling up at the sight of beomgyu, fluffy messy hair splayed around his face, long thick eyelashes kissing his rose dusted cheeks, slightly chewing at his plump bottom limp as he braces himself. He’s so precious. How fucking gorgeous this boy is.

You kiss his ankles a few more times, one hand going to his cute tummy that heaved and you slowly push the silicone cock into his now glistening from all the lube, swollen, puffy pink hole, ever so slowly easing in, inch by inch and bottoming out.

Beomgyu cries out, hiding his face instantly in his elbow and he arches his back, and mewls.

“You okay, puppy?”, you coo and gently move his arm out the way so you can look at his pretty face and parted lips, stilling your movements and softly brushing the bangs out his eyes.

Beomgyu shakily nods, trembling. “Mmh. m’ okay. You can keep going.”

Loud high pitched strangled moans escape his lips as you pick up the pace. It’s a new feeling and it takes him some time to get used to. Beomgyu was always loud and would make the prettiest moans ever anyway, but there was something so different at how he moaned right now, completely guttural and different to how they usually were. Even he was surprised, clamping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment but he just couldn’t stop the noises at all even if he tried, loud whines and whimpers continuing unabated. You loved them so much.

You watch his poor, neglected cock slap his tummy with every thrust, red and hard and dribbling beads at the head constantly. You take his dick in your hand, stroking it at the same movement and fucking him harder.

He gasps shuddering and writhing, his fingers curling into the sheets. "Oh... that feels...," he manages to say, interrupted by whines and moans, mouth in a cute ‘o’ shaped, completely dumb and fucked out by now he can barely think, and he moans your name over and over. A cascade of mewls spilling from his lips, a sweet symphony that fills the room.

You lean down to press his swollen lips with yours, moving your mouth against him so messily and needy, making out with him so intensely as you carried on fucking his hole. You’re sure you’re hitting his prostate by now.

Beomgyu disconnects from your lips to pant, a string of saliva connecting from his and your mouth and reaches his hand out to yours “Hold…” He whimpers out, eyebrows furrowed and you gladly grab his hand, intertwining your hand with his and holding hands as you peg him, anchoring him. Your other free hand still continuing your ministrations on his cock, kissing him again. It seems you’ve pegged him completely into subspace.

"gonna cum soon... I can'ttt... it's too much!” Beomgyu chokes out, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he completely shakes.

You suddenly heard choked sobs and sniffling coming from beomgyu. Alarmed, you paused for a moment, worried that maybe you had hurt him. His face was buried in the pillow, and his shoulders were trembling with each shaky breath.

“Beomgyu, are you okay?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern. You gently eased back, not wanting to cause him any discomfort.

He turned his head to look at you, and your heart ached at the sight before you. His glossy, brown doe eyes were filled with tears, eyelashes clumped together and his bottom lip was jutting out in a pout, making him look devastatingly beautiful, tears streaming down his red cheeks and his hair tousled and damp with sweat. He was such a pretty crier.

“I-I’m okay,” voice trembling with the intensity of his feelings. “It’s just... it feels so good. I love you so much.” His tears flowed freely now, each sob wracking his body. You were surprised at how emotional beomgyu had gotten.

You lean down to kiss away his tears, cupping his hot cheeks, “You’re doing so good for me, gyu. I love you too.”

Beomgyu grasps your hand even tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he clings to you so close. His head falls back with every thrust, and he throws his head back as you continue to hit his prostate repeatedly again and again, making him go cross eyed and his jaw slack.

He spurts a copious amount of cum from his cock, making such a mess on the sheets, your hand, and his tummy, cumming so hard his vision goes blurry, and he feels dizzy, his legs shaking uncontrollably. His eyes flutter open and shut, gasping and panting heavily. You pull out and collapse beside him, both of you utterly exhausted.

Beomgyu can conclude, the guys on reddit were so right.

Beomgyu doesn’t let go of you at all afterwards, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his legs and arms around you, clinging to you like a koala contently, breath warm against your skin as you kissed the top of his head.

“I can’t feel my legs.” Beomgyu whines, “Please never mention the crying ever again okay?” He muffles out. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know. Can’t have everyone thinking I’m a crybaby.”

You chuckle, stroking and playing with his soft hair which he loves so much, humming softly at the feeling of your hands on his scalp. “I thought it was very cute.”

He doesn’t say anything and a moment of silence ensues.

“Thank you, baby.” he says gently and quietly, “I’d be eating you out so good right now if I wasn’t so exhausted.” a tired but cheeky grin spreading across his face.

Within seconds, beomgyu was out like a light, his soft snores filling the quiet room, looking so cute absolutely knocked out in your arms.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and disappointing when fics have such little reblogs ☹️👎🤨. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write more :)

A/n: guys im sorry if this was the shittest thing I’ve ever written. I was really trying !! But I’m Just very out of practice at writing atm 😭 im very sorry if the smut is the most messiest thing you’ve ever read, I have not proofread it at all I have no idea what I was writing. So I’m very sorry

[charmedimsure]

dae-ho x f!reader where they just met in the games and they obviously had a connection so they went to the bathroom

and when they were kissing someone came in and caught them (you can choose who) and then they tease them about it when they come out

(if you’re uncomfortable with smut it doesn’t have to be smut!!)

NOT A WORD || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader

summary: You and Dae-ho share a moment in the bathroom

word count: 1.4k

warnings: squid game stuff, 18+

A/N: this is the closest i will get to writing smut. if you see any mistakes no you didn't <3

You walk into the bathroom, rubbing your eyes with your hands. It had been a long day. First one of your friends died in Mingle, then the vote on whether to stay or go home was split 50/50, meaning tensions have never been higher.

You look up, pausing when you see the urinals. The guard could've at least guided you to the correct restroom. Instead, they just brought you to two doors, one with a triangle and one with a square. You chose the wrong one, apparently. Still, there are stalls, so whatever.

After you go, you come out of the stall, turning the knob of the sink to wash your hands. You look in the mirror at yourself. You wish you could take back all of those times that you apologized for looking like a mess. All those times you have never come close to how you look now. Your hair is a knotted mess, and the smudges of at least four day old mascara is smeared under your eyes, making you look gaunt.

With a huff, you comb your fingers through your hair, trying to get out as many knots as you can. The loose strands fall from your head, and you grimace as you watch them pile up in the sink. That's... a lot of hair. You turn the faucet back on, letting it go down the drain. It'll be their problem now.

The door to the bathroom opens and you jump. When a familiar face walks in, you relax.

"Thank god it's just you," you sigh.

Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "Why are you in the men's room?"

You roll your eyes. "I've just always really wanted to try pissing in a urinal," you deadpan.

The man smirks. "You walked into the wrong bathroom?"

"Yep."

He chuckles, going over to one of the stalls and locking the door.

You look back at yourself in the mirror, trying to make yourself look at least a little presentable. You rub under your eyes, trying to get the makeup off of your face, but if anything it just smudges even more.

Dae-ho comes out of the stall, walking to the sink next to you and washing his hands. He looks at you, a small frown on his face. "What's wrong."

"I'm trying to get this off but it won't budge," you say, throwing your hands in the air with a huff. Two hands grab your waist and you involuntarily let out a small squeal as you're lifted up.

Dae-ho sets you down so that you're sitting on the edge of the sink, you're back facing the mirror. He runs the sink next to yours, pulling his sleeve over his hand and running it under the water.

"What are you doing?"

"This is how my sisters take their's off when they run out of makeup wipes," he says, bringing his damp sleeve to your face. With the sleeve over his thumb, you watch him as he gently wipes under your right eye. You relax, opting to watch his face as he focuses.

"What do you think's gonna happen tomorrow with the vote?" you ask.

Dae-ho sighs. "I wish I could say we'll win, that we'll finally go home, but I have no idea." He puts his sleeve over his other hand, running under the water before copying his motions under your other eye. "Gi-hun says there's gonna be a fight tonight. That's why they gave us the forks with dinner today, they want us to kill each other."

"Sick fucks," you mumble. You wish you could say you're surprised, but nothing here really surprises you anymore. It's silent for another mminute before you speak again. "I'm going to die tonight."

Dae-ho gives you a concerned look. "Why do you say that?"

"I can play kids games, but I don't have the strength to fight off someone who's trying to kill me. The moment someone grabs me, I'm dead."

Dae-ho finishes cleaning your makeup off, wiping the wet areas with the dry part of his sleeves. "You know we're not gonna let that happen, right?"

You shrug.

Dae-ho cups your face with both hands, forcing you to look at him. "Listen to me. You are not going to die tonight. I'll protect you, I swear on my life."

Tears start to well up in your eyes. "And what if they get you?" You take a deep, shaky breath. "I don't want you to die."

You and Dae-ho had found each other during the first game. He kept you behind him, and you helped him know when to stop so he wouldn't get caught. When he joined Gi-hun's team, he brought you along.

"I don't want you to die, either," he whispers. He slides his hands down your arms, holding your hands in his.

A small smile appears on your face. "At least I'll die having watched the best game of Gong-gi ever played."

Dae-ho lets out a chuckle, his cheeks turning red as he looks away. When he looks back at you, the softness in his eyes nearly makes you melt.

"In case we die tonight," he says softly, "in case these are our last few hours alive, let me do something I've been thinking about since our first day here."

His eyes flicker to your lips and you gasp slightly. He looks back up to your eyes, silently asking permission, and you nod.

He closes the distance between you, breathing you in as he cradles your face. You bring your hands up to thread into his hair, kissing him back eagerly. If you're going to die tonight, this is how you want to spend your last moments.

His tongue teases your lips and you part them slightly, allowing him access. You lightly tug on his hair, the groan he lets out as a result going straight to your core.

Fuck, you need him right now.

Without breaking the kiss, you move your hands away from his hair, unzipping his jacket and pushing it over his shoulders. He takes his hands away from you for a moment to let the article fall to the floor before his hands attach to your hips. He steps closer to you, your bodies flush against each other.

He moves away from you lips, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your throat that have you gasping. His hands lift the hem of your shirt, rising underneath to roam your bare skin. You throw your head back as his lips travel lower and low-

"Oh shit!"

The voice breaks you out of the moment, your head whipping around to look at the door. Jung-bae stands at the entrance to the bathroom, eyes moving back and forth between you and Dae-ho. You freeze, along with the man whose hands are still underneath your shirt.

"Uhh, I'll just go. You two have fun," he walks out, a small smirk on his face.

Dae-ho is still looking at the door when he feels your stomach moving under his hands. He looks at you, a small smile spreading on his face when he sees your quiet laughter. He breaks into laughter as well, removing his hands from you.

"At least it was just him," you chuckle. "Imagine it was that old man."

Dae-ho laughs harder, picking his jacket up off of the ground. Instead of putting it on himself, he wraps it around your shoulders, taking your hips in his hands to help you off the counter.

Once your feet are back on the ground, you reach for the back of his neck, planting another kiss on his lips. "If we get out of here, we'll continue this."

Dae-ho nods, a smile on his face as he kisses your temple. You take his hand, walking to the door of the bathroom. When you leave, you spot Jung-bae leaning against the wall. As soon as he sees you, a smirk decorates his face. He opens his mouth to talk but you hold up your hand, stopping him.

"Not a word, Jung-bae," you threaten.

The man holds up his hands in surrender, the smirk still on his face as he enters the bathroom.

You sigh and shake your head, looking at Dae-ho and breaking out into another chuckle before walking back to your quarters.

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5 @dragons-h0ard @silas-222 @putrescentpoet @chrisgetsmewetter

Squid Game tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn

lmk if you want to be added to the tags! (lmk which one)

[clesired]

𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 | 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “can i request a fred x slytherin!reader? someone who’s an introvert but opposites attract?” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! everyone knows opposites attract, how could you forget!?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! light!angst ( like really light, reader gets into her head a bit but nothing drastic ), fluff, introverted slytherin fem!reader, established relationship, second person pov, 1.3k words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of a warm hand rubbing your side.

You look down at your boyfriend, who’s already looking up at you with a small smile as he pulls you closer to his chest.

“You alright, love?” He asks quietly, his question only for you to hear, and you feel a wave of affection for your sweet boy wash over you.

He can get a bit rowdier when he’s with his friends. Louder—but he always lowers his voice when he’s checking in on you in group settings, knowing it would only make you feel bad if attention was brought to it.

It’s no secret that you tend to keep to yourself, but ever since you and Fred became official—you’ve made it a point to put yourself out there more.

Admittedly, you two are polar opposites personality wise. Where Fred thrives in groups and socializing, pulling out laughter and smiles with ease—you thrive in more quiet, solitary spaces with a decided lack of too many people.

Seeing as you always avoided your housemates—the other Slytherins just too nasty for you to tolerate for longer than necessary; your first real taste of being part of a friend group was with the Gryffindors.

And it’s been great—truly. You genuinely enjoy spending time with all of them. But sometimes, you still find yourself getting a bit overwhelmed.

It’s just not in your nature to be around lots of people for extended periods of time and when your social battery is low—it’s low.

Fred knows this, which is why he’s always checking in, and you swear you fall in love with him a little more each time he does it.

“I’m okay, Freddie.” You respond, your voice equally as quiet, as your left hand comes up to fiddle with the neck of his shirt.

Truthfully, you feel yourself running out of energy to keep up with the rambunctious group of lions, but you don’t want to be the reason Fred has to leave his friends. You know he’s having a good time.

George and Lee are locked in on an intense round of Wizard’s Chess, Alicia narrating the game flawlessly as Angelina whispers to George on where he should move his pieces. And upon realizing what the two are doing, Lee recruits Katie to help him, insisting that if George is going to cheat, then so is he.

As they continue to play—throwing playful jabs at each other all the while, Fred’s eyes fall down to where you’re fiddling with his shirt.

He knows what that means. Your hands can never stay still when you’re either nervous or overwhelmed, a habit he’s sure you don’t even realize you do most of the time.

He grabs your hand gently, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss before caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

He looks over to his twin and his friends and smiles. “Alright mates, my lovely witch and I are gonna call it a night.” He announces as he gently pats your hip before picking you up and placing you on your feet in front of him.

The boys playfully boo while the girls laugh and wave at the two of you.

Katie focuses on you and winks. “Thanks for getting rid of one of the stooges for us, Y/N.”

Angelina nods in agreement, jumping in. “Real life saver, you.”

“Hopefully the other two follow suit.” Alicia smirks.

You four share a laugh while the boys look at you in mock outrage.

Fred stands up and wraps his arms around your waist from behind as he smirks at the girls. “Hopefully not.”

He just barely manages to shield both you and himself from the pillow that gets thrown at his head as George places a hand over his heart. “Betrayed by my own twin!”

“I see where I stand.” Lee huffs as he makes a show of turning away from Fred.

You smile at their antics, the guilt over taking Fred from them easing a little at their playful reactions.

“Goodnight, guys.” You bid them goodbye as Fred gently leads you up to his dorm, the last sound you hear from the common room being their loud choruses of goodnights in response back.

Moments later, you two curl up in his bed, curtains drawn closed and a silencio casted with a simple flick of the wrist as you two settle into the pillows and sheets.

He kisses the top of your head gently as he pulls you into his chest, hand moving to trace up and down your spine soothingly as he slips it beneath your top.

You sigh softly in content, already feeling better now that you’re not surrounded by all the loud chatter of the common room.

“You know you can always tell me when you want to leave, love. You don’t have to force yourself to stay with our friends any longer than you want to be.” He says softly.

His use of the word ‘our’ makes you feel all warm inside as you nuzzle into his neck. “I know you enjoy spending time with them. I don’t wanna get in the way of that.” You explain quietly.

He squeezes you tighter, then, as he kisses the top of your head once more. “I enjoy spending time with you.” He shoots back, his gentle ministrations on your back not letting up.

“I spend all day with my friends. Quidditch, classes, meals…but I don’t get you to myself nearly as often as I’d like.” He taps your nose gently, smiling when you only scrunch it in response.

His arm falls to your waist once more as he resumes tracing shapes into your back. “You could never ‘get in the way,’ silly girl.”

You blush softly, hands moving to fiddle with the neck of his shirt once more. “I guess I’m just a little afraid you’re gonna grow tired of it one day. You’re such a people’s person and I’m—you know…not.” Your voice turns a little deprecating as you speak.

He’s having none of that, as he uses his finger to tilt your chin up, forcing you to hold eye contact with him as he speaks.

“Now listen here, miss. I don’t care about any of that. If anything—I love you more because of it. You keep me balanced.” He says strongly, cupping your face gently.

“Haven’t you ever heard that saying? Opposites attract, love. That’s us. We make each other better. Nuanced, as your brilliant brain would say. Encourage each other to step out of our comfort zones and try new things.” He gently caresses your cheek with his thumb.

“Do you resent me for pushing you to hang out with our friends?” He asks, and the question is so absurd you can’t help but rear back a little.

“Exactly.” He says, and that brings you up short.

You breathe out a small laugh, dropping your head to his chest. You can’t argue with that and he knows it.

“Okay, okay, you make some good points.” You admit, pulling back to look down at his face as you smile.

He raises a brow, smirking cockily. “When do I not?”

Before you can respond, he quickly tacks on, “Don’t answer that.”

You laugh once more, a little louder this time, before you lean down and press a gentle kiss into his lips.

He kisses you back eagerly, tugging you even closer to his chest if possible, hands gripping at your waist tightly.

When you pull away, your smile is wide. “I love you so much.” You whisper softly, and he pecks your lips once more before nuzzling his face into your neck and inhaling your scent contentedly.

“And I love you.” He says equally as soft, eyes closing as he relaxes further into the bed, still holding you to his body.

You two are polar opposites personality wise, and you couldn’t be happier.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! may this kind of love find me, honestly. i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

[sungiescheotluv]

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more. 

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes. “It’s another form of self-love. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, try new things and ultimately, live a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried. 

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel. 

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad. 

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance. 

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.” 

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad. 

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone. 

Ill with lust, as you’d joke. 

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny. 

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.” 

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[meanbossart]

Pin!

Hi, I'm RJ (Male, 28 years old) I'm a -usually- horror oriented artist and collaborator alongside my partner and better-half @barbatusart, though I'm currently on a Baldur's Gate 3/DnD streak with both my art and writing, specifically centered around the Dark Urge I created for my campaign and his antics, so that's most of what you will find here!

I want to leave a warning right here that I occasionally venture into delicate topics in regards to character lore and history - though none of it strays too far from what the game already delves into and I try to give a heads-up ahead of time whenever I feel like something might catch someone off-guard otherwise.

PATREON WHERE I POST WIPS, SKETCHES, UNRELEASED ART, ALL OF MY NSFW CONTENT, ETC : patreon.com/meanbossart/

MY INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/meanboss_art/

TWITCH WHERE I STREAM SOMETIMES: twitch.tv/meanboss14

PSA: I get a lot of asks and I'm slow to go through them, please don't take it personally :U

Anyway, here's the guy of the hour:

🚨FAQ BELOW🚨

Q: Does your Durge have a name? A: Nope! I named him "drow" when I played the game because I didn't feel like thinking up anything special. His lack of a name has become part of the character's lore and you will find him to always be tagged with "DU drow", or referred to as The Drow or just Drow.

Q: Where can I read your BG3 fan-fiction? And what is it about? A: Right here! The main plot follows DU Drow, Astarion, and Shadowheart on a new adventure that fractures into a couple of different directions, but mainly focuses on the aftermath of the spawn that Astarion has released and the personal development of the main cast, alongside a number of original characters that get involved in the narrative. My goal was to create a kind of "DLC" experience, so you can expect a lot of themes that parallel the main game.

Q: Can I draw one of your characters, a scene from your story, or any of your characters interacting with mine/other characters? And can it be NSFW in nature? A: YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN, AND I'LL BE DELIGHTED TO SEE IT IF YOU CARE TO SHARE. I'm equally fine with NSFW as long as everyone involved (in the art and otherwise) is an adult.

Q: What drawing software/tablet/brushes do you use? A: I draw on a Wacom Cintiq 22, using Clip Studio Pro. I switch around brushes quite often but most of what I use comes from the DAUB super-bundle by Paolo Limoncelli.

Q: Where can I find more of your work? A: You can find mine and my partner's comics here, but please bear in mind that most of it is highly violent stuff and you should read the content warnings on the store page carefully before making any purchases - if in doubt of whether or not any of it could be detrimental to your mental health, DON'T BUY IT. Stay safe!

Q: Do you take commissions? A: I am not currently taking any new commission inquiries, sorry!

[koolades-world]

hiii i was wondering if u could write something about the obey me brothers (plus diavolo if ur up for it) with an mc who randomly feeds them their own food. for example mc is snacking on chips and theyll just walk up and hold a chip to his mouth until he takes it/refuses. doesnt matter what hes doing theyll just offer a bite or two.

i do the same thing with my younger siblings and friends so its kinda like a love language. ^^

hi! sure thing :)

enjoy <3

Mc who shares their food randomly

Lucifer

he won't lie, he was confused the first time and actually asked what you were doing haha

once he learns it's just because you care, he gets the warm fuzzies

he works so much that sometimes he forgets to eat or skips it altogether in favor of getting more work done

he's very glad to have you in his life and he thinks that every time you offer him some of your food

Mammon

he's ecstatic to take snacks from you even if it's not something he likes or think he'll like

he never thought he'd be so loved

he learnt about this habit early on into your trip in the devildom and while he thought it was a little strange but he grew used to it

now he can't imagine you without that! he tries his best to reciprocate

Levi

when you offer him your snacks, he actually might not notice for a second

usually he's in the middle of gaming

but he really appreciates the habit and you <3

like lucifer, sometimes he forgets to eat since he's always in the middle of play a game so sometimes the snacks you feed him are the only snacks he gets that day

Satan

as long as any crumbs won't get on his books, he's more than happy to let you feed him

he himself is guilty of getting crumbs between the pages so if it happens on accident, he's not mad he just wants to prevent it if possible

he'll offer you a seat beside him and even if all you do is continue to snack and not share, he's happy

he loves having you around and your presence is a comfort <3

Asmo

he thinks it's so sweet!

while he has lots of fans and is very popular, you're so easily able to look past that

sometimes you don't even say anything when you offer him the snacks and he knows you do it just because you care about him

he always shows the love back with a quick hug or verbal confirmation

Beel

bestie he is SO on board!

he he wasn't already snacking he's taking it without a second thought

even if we was snacking, it's just something to mix up what he was eating

he'll be sure to tell you how tasty it was and how the flavor of the food you gave him and the food he was eating combined in his mouth haha

Belphie

he's asleep more than he's not

you might just be sitting by his side ready with snacks that you will probably eat all of in the process

when he is awake though! he couldn't be happier

he's more than happy to accept but if it's something he dislikes he's not afraid to voice it because that's more for you and less for him

Diavolo

he thinks it's very cute! he cares about you very much and he finds it very endearing

whenever you offer him your snack, he'll stop whatever he's going to turn all of his attention to you

as long as it's not pickles, he will accept

never accepts it absentmindedly, and will always always say thank you!!

[solxamber]

All the NRC students (+maybe neige and Chen'ya) with a incubus? Can be either platonic or romantic but romantic would be preferred

(Male reader please!)

All NRC (-Ortho), Rollo, Neige, Che'nya with M! Incubus! Reader

thanks for the request <3 also had a lot of fun writing this so it ended up getting a little out of hand

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle prided himself on maintaining control—control of his dorm, his emotions, and, most importantly, his heart. So when you, with your playful, lingering glances and mischievous smirks, started pulling him into your orbit, it rattled him.

It didn’t help that you knew exactly what you were doing.

“I’ve told you before about your uniform,” Riddle said sternly, eyes flicking over the slightly disheveled appearance you sported. The red cravat was loose, shirt collar slightly askew, and there was something about the casual disregard for the rules that sent his pulse racing.

You tilted your head, stepping just close enough to make his heartbeat uncomfortably loud in his ears. “I’d fix it, but I think you like it this way.”

Riddle’s face burned, and he instinctively took a step back, his composure slipping. “T-That’s absurd! The rules exist for a reason—”

You smiled, a slow, deliberate thing that made his breath hitch. “Maybe you just like breaking the rules when no one’s watching.”

Riddle’s heart thudded against his ribcage, his voice lowering to a flustered murmur. “I... I don’t know what you’re implying, but... please—fix it.”

But you didn’t move, and for the first time, Riddle wasn’t sure if he wanted you to.

Trey Clover

Trey had always been steady, reliable. The calm amidst the storm of his fellow Heartslabyul students. But you? You were the unpredictable spark in his otherwise predictable life.

He watched as you leaned casually against the kitchen counter, watching him roll out the dough with that knowing smile on your face. The way you lingered so close, the heat of your body just barely brushing against his, had him more distracted than he’d ever admit.

“You know,” you said, voice low and smooth as honey, “you’re really good at this whole ‘baking’ thing. I can’t help but wonder what else you’re good at.”

Trey’s hand stilled, his heart suddenly pounding a little harder. He glanced at you, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s... just practice.”

You laughed, the sound soft and intimate, as if the two of you shared a secret. “Hmm. Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’m a quick learner...”

Trey swallowed, eyes flicking to yours, his usual calm slipping just a bit. “I-I could. But, uh, maybe we should focus on the task at hand first.”

But the way you stepped closer, your shoulder brushing against his, told him that focusing was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

Cater Diamond

Cater loved attention. He lived for it. But the way you looked at him? That was something different. Something that made his heart skip a beat, even though he’d never admit it.

“You’ve got all those fans, Cater,” you said, leaning close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from you, “but when’s the last time you had someone all to yourself?”

Cater’s grin faltered, just for a second. “What’s this? You jealous? Don’t worry, I’ve always got time for you.”

But his casual charm wasn’t quite enough to hide the way his pulse quickened as you leaned even closer, your breath brushing against his ear.

“Jealous?” you echoed, your voice low, teasing. “Nah. Just curious. Wondering if you can handle it when all the attention’s on you for real.”

Cater swallowed, his playful demeanor slipping as his mind raced. You always did know how to get under his skin. “Hah... you’re too much, you know that?”

You grinned, and Cater couldn’t help but wonder if, for once, he’d met someone who could play his game better than him.

Ace Trappola

Ace liked to think of himself as smooth. Unshakable. Too clever to fall for anything or anyone. But every time you got a little too close, flashed that wicked grin, or dropped a suggestive comment, he found himself floundering in a way that left him both frustrated and intrigued.

“So, Ace,” you drawled, standing far too close for him to feel comfortable, “how long are you gonna pretend I’m not getting to you?”

Ace shot you his best smirk, crossing his arms as if the proximity wasn’t bothering him at all. “Pfft, please. You’re not even on my radar.”

But the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him, and you stepped even closer, your hand lightly brushing against his arm.

“Really?” you murmured, your eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re telling me that if I kissed you right now, it wouldn’t faze you at all?”

Ace froze, his heart doing an acrobatic flip in his chest. “I-I mean... not at all,” he stammered, but the blush creeping up his neck told a different story.

You grinned, pulling away just before he could gather his thoughts. “We’ll see about that.”

Ace exhaled shakily, trying to regain his composure, but all he could think about was the way his heart hadn’t quite slowed down.

Deuce Spade

Deuce wasn’t used to being flustered. He was the serious one. The dependable one. But you? You had a way of completely throwing him off his game with nothing more than a smile.

“Deuce, you’re looking a little tense,” you teased, your voice soft and almost soothing as you stood in front of him. “Something on your mind?”

Deuce swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything other than the way your fingers lightly brushed against his arm. “N-No! I’m just... thinking.”

“About me?” you asked, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin.

Deuce’s face turned bright red. “N-No! I mean, not that I don’t—no, wait, I didn’t mean—uh—”

You chuckled softly, leaning in just a bit closer, your lips barely inches from his ear. “Relax. I’m just teasing you. Unless...”

Deuce’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he tried to find his voice. “U-Unless?”

You smiled, pulling away slightly, but the warmth of your touch still lingered. “Unless you want me to be serious.”

Deuce’s brain short-circuited for a moment, and all he could do was nod, his face burning as his heart hammered in his chest.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was used to being in control. To having people fall in line around him. But you? You were the one person who never seemed to be affected by his lazy dominance. If anything, you enjoyed pushing his buttons.

You stretched out beside him in the sunlight, lazily twirling a blade of grass between your fingers. “So, what’s the plan, Leona? Gonna keep pretending you’re not interested forever?”

Leona opened one eye to glare at you, his voice a low growl. “I told you, I’m trying to sleep.”

You smirked, propping yourself up on your elbow to lean closer to him. “Uh-huh. Sure. But you’re not very convincing when your heart’s racing like that.”

Leona’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. “You think you’re cute, huh?”

“I know I am,” you replied smoothly, your fingers brushing against his arm just enough to make him tense.

Leona scoffed, turning his head away, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re asking for trouble, herbivore.”

But the way he didn’t move away told you he didn’t mind one bit.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of tricks. He was the one who pulled the pranks, got the upper hand. But you? You had him constantly on edge, never knowing what you’d say or do next.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Ruggie said, his voice low and teasing as you sidled up next to him.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Am I? Or maybe you’re just not used to someone playing it better than you.”

Ruggie laughed, though there was a hint of nervousness behind it. “Better than me? C’mon, I’ve got this in the bag.”

You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “I don’t think you do.”

Ruggie’s heart skipped a beat, his mind scrambling for a witty comeback, but all he could focus on was the way your lips brushed against his ear ever so slightly. “Y-You’re not playing fair.”

You chuckled, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes. “Who said anything about playing fair?”

Ruggie grinned, his confidence slipping just a little. “You’re trouble. But... I think I like it.”

Jack Howl

Jack prided himself on his discipline, his focus, his unwavering sense of duty. Yet, you had a way of completely unraveling all of that in a matter of seconds.

He was lifting weights in the gym, mind focused, muscles straining, when you appeared beside him. “Need a spotter?” you asked casually, leaning against the bench with a smile that was just a little too playful.

Jack grunted, trying to ignore the way your presence made his heart race. “I can handle it.”

You chuckled, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m sure you can, big guy. But why pass up the chance to have me watching your back?”

Jack nearly fumbled the weight, his ears flicking in annoyance, though he couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I-I’m fine.”

But you didn’t move. Instead, you rested your chin on your hand, watching him intently. “You know, I think you try too hard sometimes. Maybe you should let someone else take care of you for a change.”

Jack’s grip tightened on the barbell, his pulse quickening. He wasn’t sure if it was the weight or the way you were looking at him that was making his chest feel tight. “I don’t need—”

You reached out, brushing a hand against his arm, sending an electric jolt through him. “Don’t need help? Or don’t need me watching you like this?”

Jack huffed, setting the weight down with more force than necessary. “You’re impossible.”

But the way his tail twitched betrayed the fact that he didn’t really mind.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was a planner. Every move, every interaction was calculated, precise. And yet, somehow, you always seemed to throw his carefully crafted plans into chaos.

He watched as you entered the VIP room of the Mostro Lounge, that ever-present smirk on your lips. “You’re awfully quiet today, Azul,” you teased, crossing the room with a confidence that always made his palms sweat.

Azul adjusted his glasses, trying to maintain his usual calm demeanor. “I’m simply... observing.”

“Observing, huh?” you echoed, leaning on the edge of his desk, far too close for comfort. “And what exactly are you observing?”

Azul cleared his throat, eyes flicking nervously to yours. “Y-You, of course. You’re quite... unpredictable.”

You grinned, your fingers brushing against the edge of the desk, inching closer to his hand. “Unpredictable? Or maybe you’re just bad at reading me.”

Azul’s heart raced, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. “I assure you, I’m quite skilled at reading people.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Then what am I thinking right now?”

Azul froze, his mind scrambling for a coherent thought, but all he could focus on was the heat radiating from your body and the way your eyes seemed to see right through him. “I-I...”

You chuckled, pulling away just before he could respond, leaving him flustered and very much off balance. “Guess you’re not as good as you thought.”

Azul adjusted his glasses again, trying to regain his composure. “You... are infuriating.”

But the flush on his cheeks said he didn’t mind being bested by you.

Jade Leech

Jade was used to being in control, much like his boss. He enjoyed observing people, watching how they reacted, and staying two steps ahead. But with you? You were always just a little bit ahead of him, and that intrigued him far more than he’d like to admit.

“So,” Jade drawled, his usual polite smile firmly in place as you stood across from him in the lounge, “what brings you here today? Surely not just to cause more chaos?”

You smirked, tilting your head in that way that always made his heart beat just a little faster. “Maybe I just like the view.”

Jade raised an eyebrow, though his pulse quickened. “Is that so? I wasn’t aware the decor was so interesting.”

“Oh, the decor’s nice,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers lightly brushing against the smooth wood of the table. “But I wasn’t talking about that.”

Jade’s smile widened, though he couldn’t quite suppress the flicker of surprise in his chest. “You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

“Bold?” you echoed, your hand resting on the table just beside his. “Maybe. Or maybe I just know what I want.”

Jade’s eyes gleamed with intrigue, his voice lowering to a murmur. “And what is it that you want?”

You leaned in, just enough to make his heart skip a beat. “I think you already know.”

For the first time, Jade found himself unsure of what move to make next—a sensation both unsettling and thrilling. “You... are quite the enigma.”

You grinned, pulling away with a wink. “And you love it.”

Jade’s smile didn’t falter, but the way his heart raced told him that, perhaps, you were right.

Floyd Leech

Floyd was wild, unpredictable, and always on the hunt for something exciting. You? You were the perfect mix of chaos and control, and that made you his favorite person to mess with.

“Shrimpy~!” Floyd’s voice echoed down the hallway as he bounded toward you with his usual enthusiasm. “Whatcha doin’? Boring stuff again?”

You glanced up, smirking as he slid to a stop in front of you. “Just waiting for you to catch up, Floyd. Took you long enough.”

Floyd grinned, his mismatched eyes gleaming with excitement. “Oho, you’re in a mood today, huh?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the wall, your posture casual, but your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just wondering if you can keep up.”

Floyd’s grin widened, his heart racing at the challenge. “Oh, I can keep up, don’t worry.”

You stepped closer, close enough that Floyd’s playful grin faltered for just a second. “Can you, though?”

Floyd’s eyes narrowed, his excitement turning to something sharper, more focused. “Heh, you’re askin’ for it, Shrimpy.”

But instead of backing down, you just grinned, your hand lightly brushing against his arm. “Maybe I am.”

For the first time in a while, Floyd found himself caught off guard, his usual chaotic energy tempered by the unexpected heat in your gaze. “You’re somethin’ else, Shrimpy.”

You winked, pulling away before he could react, leaving him both intrigued and frustrated in the best possible way. “I know.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was all sunshine and joy, always smiling, always positive. But when you were around? He found himself feeling something a little different—a flutter in his chest that he didn’t quite understand.

“You’re always so happy, Kalim,” you teased, your voice soft but playful as you sat beside him on the steps of Scarabia. “What’s your secret?”

Kalim beamed at you, his usual enthusiasm shining through. “It’s easy! I just focus on the good things. Like you being here with me!”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “That’s sweet. But what if I wasn’t here?”

Kalim blinked, his smile faltering for just a second. “Then... I’d be sad, I guess.”

You tilted your head, your smile turning a little more mischievous. “Really? Sad? Or maybe... you’d miss me?”

Kalim’s face flushed, his usual cheerfulness giving way to a sudden nervousness. “O-Of course I’d miss you! You’re my friend!”

You leaned in, your voice lowering just enough to make his heart race. “Just a friend?”

Kalim’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. “W-Well, I mean... I-I—”

You chuckled, pulling away before he could stumble over his words any more. “Relax, Kalim. I’m just teasing you.”

But the blush on his cheeks remained, and Kalim couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be more than just friends.

Jamil Viper

Jamil had spent most of his life in control, always planning, always calculating. But with you? You threw all of that right out the window. No matter how hard he tried to remain calm, you always seemed to know just how to get under his skin.

He was organizing a batch of ingredients for the next Scarabia banquet when you strolled into the kitchen. “Jamil, you’re always working so hard,” you said, your voice lilting with a teasing edge.

Jamil didn’t look up from his task, though the way his grip tightened on the spoon betrayed his reaction to your presence. “Someone has to,” he muttered, keeping his voice neutral.

You leaned against the counter, watching him with that playful glint in your eye. “But don’t you ever get tired of being so... responsible all the time?”

Jamil glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What are you getting at?”

You grinned, reaching for one of the nearby aprons. “I’m saying, maybe you need a break. Let someone else take care of things for once.”

Jamil snorted, shaking his head. “And who exactly would that be? You?”

You slid the apron over your head, your movements far too casual. “Why not? I can handle a kitchen just fine.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow, watching as you tied the apron with a flourish. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

You shot him a playful wink. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

For once, Jamil was at a loss. The idea of letting go, even for a second, was foreign to him. But the way you moved with such confidence... it made him wonder what it would be like to let someone else take control, just for a little while. “Fine,” he said after a moment, crossing his arms. “But if you burn anything, you’re cleaning it up.”

You grinned, reaching for the nearest pan. “Deal.”

And as you moved around the kitchen, humming to yourself, Jamil found himself watching you with a mix of exasperation and something warmer—something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil had always prided himself on his perfection. His looks, his demeanor, everything about him was carefully crafted to be flawless. But you? You were the one person who could make him forget all of that, even if just for a moment.

He was seated at his vanity, carefully applying his skincare routine when you entered the room. “You know, Vil, you’re almost too perfect,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

Vil raised an eyebrow, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Almost?”

You stepped closer, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah. But perfection’s boring.”

Vil turned slightly, regarding you with a cool, appraising look. “I see. And what, pray tell, would you suggest?”

You grinned, walking up behind him and resting your chin on his shoulder. “Maybe you should loosen up a little. Try being... I don’t know, human.”

Vil’s lips curved into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m afraid that would be lowering my standards.”

You chuckled, your breath warm against his neck. “Or maybe it would just make you more relatable.”

Vil’s gaze flicked to yours, a spark of something sharp and amused in his eyes. “I’m not interested in being relatable.”

You straightened, your smile widening. “Good thing I’m not asking you to be.”

Vil turned fully to face you now, his violet eyes narrowing slightly. “Then what are you asking?”

You shrugged, your tone playful. “Maybe I’m just asking you to let me in.”

For a brief moment, Vil’s carefully crafted facade cracked, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to let someone see beyond the perfection. But he quickly composed himself, his smile returning. “Perhaps.”

But the way his heart skipped a beat told him that you were already closer than he’d like to admit.

Rook Hunt

Rook loved beauty in all its forms. He admired it, sought it out, and treasured it. But there was something about you—something wild, unpredictable, and utterly enchanting—that drew him in like nothing else.

You were standing at the edge of the Pomefiore courtyard, gazing out at the forest beyond when Rook appeared beside you. “Ah, mon trésor,” he murmured, his voice soft and reverent. “What a beautiful sight.”

You glanced at him, smirking. “You say that about everything.”

Rook chuckled, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. “Perhaps. But in your case, it is always true.”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter. “You’re such a romantic.”

Rook smiled, leaning in just a little closer. “Can you blame me? You are... irresistible.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk turning playful. “Am I?”

Rook’s eyes sparkled, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Without question.”

For a moment, you were caught in his gaze, the intensity of his admiration washing over you like a wave. But then, with a grin, you stepped back, breaking the spell. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep chasing me, then.”

Rook laughed, his heart racing at the challenge. “Ah, mon cœur, I would chase you to the ends of the earth.”

And as you turned away, a smile playing on your lips, Rook knew that he would do just that—no matter how long it took.

Epel Felmier

Epel had heard rumors about you—whispers in the halls of an incubus who could charm anyone with just a glance. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was your mix of quiet strength and subtle flirtation that kept him intrigued. You had this easy confidence that drove him wild, even though he’d never admit it.

You were lounging on a low wall near the Pomefiore gardens, basking in the afternoon sun when Epel stormed up, looking as if he had something to prove. "So, how does it work? Your whole 'incubus charm' thing?" His tone was half curious, half challenging.

You chuckled, tilting your head. "You want a lesson, Felmier?"

Epel crossed his arms, trying to appear unaffected, though the slight flush on his cheeks gave him away. "Nah, I just... I don’t get it. How do ya make people swoon without even trying?"

You smiled, leaning forward slightly, your voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "Maybe I just have that effect on you."

Epel’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked away, cheeks turning a brighter red. "Y-yeah, right. As if!"

You laughed softly, standing up and stepping closer, close enough for Epel to feel the warmth radiating from you. "You seem flustered. Careful now, or people might think you're one of my admirers."

Epel swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "I ain’t like the others, y’know. You’re not gonna charm me that easily."

"Oh, Epel," you teased, brushing a finger lightly under his chin, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. "Who said I was trying?"

Epel froze, heart pounding in his chest, his usual bravado completely melting under your touch. But before he could say anything, you pulled back, leaving him standing there, speechless and confused.

"You’re fun to mess with," you said with a wink, turning to walk away. "But don’t worry. I like you for more than just your pretty face."

As you disappeared down the path, Epel stood there, face burning and thoughts racing. He wasn’t sure if he was flattered or completely thrown off balance, but one thing was for sure—he was hooked.

Idia Shroud

Idia hated attention, and you—an incubus who naturally drew people in—was the last person he expected to become infatuated with. But there was something about you that made it impossible for him to focus on anything else. It didn’t help that you seemed to enjoy making him squirm.

He was holed up in his room, hunched over his desk, when you casually materialized in the middle of the room. "Yo, Idia," you greeted with a grin. "Miss me?"

Idia nearly fell out of his chair, his hands fumbling to close several tabs on his computer in a panic. "W-what the—don’t sneak up on me like that!"

You chuckled, leaning against his desk with your usual easy confidence. "You’re cute when you’re flustered, y’know that?"

Idia’s face turned bright red, and he pulled his hoodie over his head, muttering under his breath. "N-n-not cute. I’m not... cute."

You smirked, leaning in closer. "Oh, but you are. The way you hide in your hoodie, the way you avoid eye contact... It’s pretty endearing."

Idia peeked out from under his hoodie, his golden eyes wide with a mix of confusion and disbelief. "Endearing? M-me?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, reaching out to brush a strand of his blue hair away from his face. "You’re more interesting than you think, Shroud."

Idia’s breath hitched, and he quickly pulled his hood tighter, as if it could somehow protect him from your teasing. "Y-you must be messing with me," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

You grinned, leaning back but keeping your eyes on him. "Maybe a little. But I mean it. You’ve got this whole mysterious, untouchable vibe going on. It’s kind of hot."

Idia froze, his mind short-circuiting at the word "hot" being used in reference to him. He stared at his screen, trying to pretend like he wasn’t blushing furiously under his hood. "Th-this is like... some kind of nightmare..."

You laughed, pushing off the desk and heading toward the door. "Nah, just a dream you’re not ready for yet."

Idia didn’t dare look up as you left, but his heart was racing, and his mind was filled with thoughts he had no idea how to process. You were dangerous, but also kind of intoxicating. And despite everything, he found himself looking forward to the next time you’d appear in his room out of nowhere.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus was used to people fearing him, revering him even. But you? You weren’t scared. In fact, you treated him with the same teasing confidence as everyone else, and that... intrigued him.

You had found him in his usual spot by the gargoyles, admiring the stone figures with that serene look on his face. You leaned casually against a nearby pillar, watching him for a moment before speaking. "Y’know, for someone so powerful, you sure spend a lot of time alone."

Malleus turned to you, his emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Does that surprise you?"

You grinned, walking over to stand beside him. "A little. I mean, shouldn’t someone like you have people fawning over them all the time?"

Malleus raised an eyebrow, his voice calm but amused. "I am not particularly interested in such... distractions."

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. "Oh, come on. Everyone needs a little attention sometimes. Even you."

Malleus looked at you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. "And you believe you are the one to provide it?"

You met his gaze, your smile softening just a bit. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just curious about what makes you tick."

Malleus considered your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your playful demeanor. "You are unlike any other... bold, yet not reckless."

You smirked, leaning closer. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

Malleus tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. "Perhaps it was meant as one."

For a moment, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension, but you broke it with a light laugh, stepping back. "Well, if you ever get tired of talking to gargoyles, you know where to find me."

Malleus watched as you turned to leave, his lips curving into a small smile. "Indeed. I may take you up on that offer."

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d just unlocked a side of Malleus Draconia that few had ever seen. The thrill of it was enough to make your heart race.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia had lived through centuries and seen all manner of beings, but you—a cheeky incubus with a penchant for teasing—caught his interest more than anyone in recent memory. You had a charm about you that was hard to ignore, and Lilia, of course, found it entertaining.

One evening, you found him lounging upside down on a tree branch, casually playing a game on his phone. You leaned against the trunk, grinning up at him. "Don’t you ever get tired of hanging upside down like a bat?"

Lilia’s red eyes flickered toward you, and he chuckled softly. "Why would I? The world looks more amusing this way. And I get to see delightful surprises, like you."

You smirked, folding your arms. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

"Ah, but I don't need flattery with you, do I?" Lilia responded smoothly, dropping down from the tree and landing gracefully beside you. "You're already drawn to me."

You laughed, stepping closer. "Confident, are we? You must know my type, then?"

Lilia’s smile widened, his sharp fangs peeking through. "Perhaps. You do have a taste for the mysterious and ancient, do you not?"

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension. "Maybe I like a little danger."

Lilia’s eyes gleamed mischievously. "Careful now. I might just take you up on that."

For a moment, there was a spark of something unspoken between you—something thrilling, intoxicating. But you knew Lilia well enough to know he enjoyed the dance as much as you did. You gave him a wink before pulling back. "See you around, old man."

Lilia chuckled, watching you walk away with a look of pure amusement. "I do enjoy our little games," he murmured to himself. "Such an interesting soul you are."

Silver

Silver had always been calm and composed, his emotions well-guarded behind his serene expression. But with you, something shifted. You had a way of breaking through his defenses, and even if he tried to ignore it, you seemed determined to fluster him.

One afternoon, you found Silver in a quiet spot near the garden, practicing his swordsmanship. He was focused, moving with precision, but you, being you, couldn’t resist a little disruption. "Nice form," you called out, leaning against a tree. "But I bet you’ve never faced a foe like me."

Silver paused, lowering his sword and turning to you with his usual calm gaze. "Are you suggesting a duel?"

You grinned, stepping forward. "Not exactly. More like a... sparring of wits. I think I’m winning already."

Silver blinked, clearly puzzled by your words, but there was a slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "I wasn’t aware we were competing."

"That’s because I’m subtle," you teased, giving him a playful look. "You should keep up."

Silver’s eyes softened, and for a moment, his usual stoic expression faltered. "I’m trying. But you... you’re not easy to figure out."

You took another step closer, your voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Maybe that’s part of the fun."

Silver’s breath caught for a moment, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. "You’re... different from anyone I’ve met before."

"And that’s a good thing?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Silver nodded slowly, meeting your eyes with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. "Yes. It’s a good thing."

For a moment, the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, the connection between you growing stronger. And though Silver was not one for grand gestures or flirtatious banter, his presence alone made you feel something deeper than words could express.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was nothing if not loyal to Malleus, and that made dealing with you—a distracting, charming incubus—all the more frustrating for him. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his duties, you always seemed to show up at the worst possible moments, throwing him off balance with your teasing.

You found Sebek in the library, his nose buried in a book about fae history. With a sly grin, you slipped into the chair beside him, leaning on your elbow and watching him intently. "You know, Sebek, you could use a break every now and then."

Sebek stiffened, his green eyes narrowing as he glanced at you. "I have no time for distractions! Lord Malleus requires my full attention at all times!"

"Uh-huh," you replied, clearly not buying it. "I’m sure Malleus is off doing his own thing. Meanwhile, you’re here, working too hard."

Sebek slammed his book shut, standing abruptly. "I am not ‘working too hard!’ I am doing my duty! Unlike some people who waste their time with frivolous nonsense!"

You smirked, standing up to match his energy. "Frivolous, huh? Is that what you think of me?"

Sebek’s face turned red, but whether from anger or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. "Y-you’re always... always causing trouble! With your... your incubus ways!"

"Incubus ways?" you repeated with a laugh, stepping closer to him. "Sebek, you’re adorable when you’re flustered."

"I am not flustered!" he barked, though his reddening face said otherwise.

You leaned in, lowering your voice just enough to make him even more uncomfortable. "You’re really bad at hiding it, y’know."

Sebek sputtered, taking a step back as if he didn’t know how to handle the situation. "I... I have no time for your... your charm!"

You grinned, thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on him. "Don’t worry, Sebek. I’ll leave you alone... for now."

As you walked away, you heard Sebek muttering something under his breath about ‘distractions’ and ‘duty,’ but the small smile on your face told you everything you needed to know. He was hooked—whether he liked it or not.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo prided himself on being composed, dignified, and resistant to the distractions of the outside world—especially when it came to magic. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to avoid the temptations of the world, you always seemed to challenge his resolve.

It was an unspoken game between the two of you. Whenever you visited the City of Flowers, you'd find a way to tease him, either with your charm or just by being yourself—a confident, unabashed incubus who was clearly enjoying Rollo’s discomfort.

One afternoon, you caught Rollo walking through the garden, looking as serious as ever. "Rollo, fancy seeing you out here in the sunshine," you said with a grin, stepping into his path.

He stopped, eyeing you warily. "What do you want?"

"Now, is that any way to greet a friend?" you teased, taking a step closer. "I was just admiring the flowers. They seem to like the sunshine—maybe you should give it a try."

Rollo’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to understand your motives. "I have no interest in trivial matters like sunlight. I have more important things to attend to."

"Of course you do," you said, rolling your eyes. "But maybe you should lighten up a bit. Enjoy life while you can."

Rollo’s expression hardened, clearly annoyed by your carefree attitude. "Not everyone indulges in hedonism like you, incubus."

You chuckled, crossing your arms. "Who said anything about hedonism? I’m just suggesting you try having some fun."

"Fun," Rollo repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. "Fun is not my priority."

"Maybe it should be," you said, giving him a sly look. "Life’s too short to be so serious all the time."

Rollo’s lips pressed into a thin line, his resolve clearly wavering. "You’re wasting your breath. I won’t be swayed by your... charms."

You grinned, leaning in just a little closer. "We’ll see about that."

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice the way Rollo’s gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to wear him down.

Neige LeBlanche

Neige was a sweetheart—open, cheerful, and always kind-hearted. He found your presence comforting in a way that surprised even him. Despite your incubus nature, he was drawn to your charm, though it was clear you used it in a more subtle way around him.

One snowy evening, the two of you were out in the village, walking together under the falling snow. Neige was humming a soft tune, his usual cheery self, but there was a quiet warmth between you that wasn’t there before.

"You really like the snow, don’t you?" you asked, watching as Neige caught a snowflake on his finger.

He smiled, his cheeks rosy from the cold. "It reminds me of home. There’s something so peaceful about it."

You nodded, watching the way the snowflakes danced around him. "It suits you. You’re like a snow prince."

Neige laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. "That’s a sweet thing to say. But I’m just me."

"Just you?" you echoed, tilting your head. "Neige, you’re a lot more than just ‘you.’ You’re... warm. Kind. You make people feel at ease, even me."

Neige looked at you, surprised by your honesty. "I didn’t know you felt that way."

"Of course I do," you said with a smile. "You’re different from anyone I’ve met. Most people don’t look past the whole incubus thing, but you... you see more."

Neige’s smile softened, and he reached out to gently take your hand. "I don’t see you as an incubus. I see you as... someone special."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for once, you didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, you squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch against the cold winter air.

"Neige..." you began, but before you could say more, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "For being you."

You stood there in the snow, your heart racing as you realized just how much Neige meant to you. And for once, you let yourself enjoy the moment without any teasing or playful banter—just the quiet, tender connection between you and him.

Che’nya

If anyone was as mischievous as you, it was Che’nya. The two of you were a chaotic pair, always getting into some kind of trouble together. He found your incubus abilities amusing, often encouraging you to use them to mess with others. But when it came to the two of you, there was an unspoken understanding that your games were more than just harmless fun.

One day, you found Che’nya lounging in a tree, his signature grin plastered across his face. You jumped up to join him, perching on the branch beside him. "Up to no good again?" you asked, smirking.

"Always," Che’nya replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "But what about you? I hear you’ve been causing quite the stir lately."

You grinned, leaning back against the trunk. "What can I say? It’s in my nature."

Che’nya chuckled, leaning closer to you. "You do have a way of stirring things up. But I wonder... what would happen if you turned your charm on me?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "Is that a dare?"

"It’s an invitation," Che’nya said, his grin widening. "Let’s see if you can out-charm me, incubus."

You leaned in, your face mere inches from his. "Careful what you wish for, Che’nya. You might just fall for me."

Che’nya’s eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a hint of something more in his gaze. "Maybe I already have."

For a moment, the playful banter between you fell away, replaced by a spark of real connection. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken understanding that there was more between you than just teasing and games.

But, true to form, Che’nya was the first to break the moment with a laugh. "You’re good, I’ll give you that. But I’m not so easily won over."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "We’ll see about that."

As you jumped down from the tree, you glanced back at Che’nya, your grin widening. "I’ll be back to claim my victory, Cheshire."

Che’nya’s grin never faltered as he watched you walk away, but deep down, he knew that when it came to you, he was already losing the game.

Masterlist