#Learn about the Muses: Tag Games

[sadesluvr]

TEETH.

Sergei Kravinoff might be a villian, and you a hero; but at the end of the day you're both animals.

A/N: First fic in a while so my bad if it sucks. You already know this movie was basically ass but we only watched it for ATJ anyway - I'm changing some of Kraven's character so he's similar to the comics/Spider-Man 2 game, so be sure to read the tags bc he’s a lil dark…

Word count: 2.3K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Spiderwoman! Reader / Breeding / Unprotected + rough sex

Kraven feared nothing. 

It simply wasn’t in his blood; not his staunchly machismo upbringing, nor in his DNA, quite literally having that of a lion. Fear made one weak. Fear made you less of a man. Fear was what killed his mother. 

If anything, fear was just another animal; ready to be captured, killed and conquered, ultimately destined to be draped across his chiselled body or mounted on a wall.  

You were simply no different. 

He never really understood why people were afraid of spiders, but he knew that they were a nuisance, having haunted him since he was a boy. Spiders weren’t savages like lions or bears, but they were sneaky; crawling around in the dark and waiting to strike, with a face so obscured that you’d never really know what you were looking at...what they were thinking.  

But now, with your mask off, he could see you clearly. Fear; clouding your eyes and consuming your lungs as you heaved, choking on the intensity of the emotion itself as your pupils darted between the beige, bloodied teeth on his necklace and a crossbow pointed right at your heart. 

“So, you’re the insect causing me all this trouble?” the man mused; legs crossed upon a desk as he eyed you. “I should’ve known.” 

“Should’ve known what? You know nothing about me.”  

“You’re a girl.” 

“Sexist, much.” 

He chuckled. 

“Far from it. My father, however, was quite the traditionalist. He would’ve done much worse by now.” 

There was a heavy silence as you swiped at your bottom lip. Much to your dismay, blood had begun to dry, and you were left with a salty, scratchy throat. Liquid, some of any kind, would’ve been appreciated, but you knew all too well that Kraven wasn’t one for showing mercy. Like all the villains you’d encountered, you’d had a push-pull relationship with the Hunter since the very beginning. He created a plan; you foiled it, sometimes you’d get your ass beat but the ending was almost always the same – with you safe from harm's way, and a bloodthirsty ego chipped away, but momentarily put to rest. 

On this occasion you’d slipped up, your Spidey-senses failing you and placing you right into harm's way, shipped into the back of a van and somehow escorted to a somewhat uncharacteristically lavish mansion.  

You'd always found Kraven to be a man of contradictions; whether he realised it or not. He was the best and worst of both worlds, a hunter with all the grit of someone who’d been fighting their entire life as a poverty-stricken rogue, and yet you’d come to learn that he was a Russian aristocrat, hence his rather extensive knowledge and unrelenting desire for control. Still, nothing took away from the fact that he was a brute, not even his strikingly good looks. 

“Just shoot me and be over it,” You continued, watching as he lowered his feet from atop the desk and strolled over to you.  “You didn’t need to drag me all the way here.” 

He looked even bigger than usual, but perhaps it was because you were perched uncomfortably on a chair, arms bound behind you as you craned your neck to look up at him. Your mind couldn’t - no, didn’t - want to fathom what he was thinking of you from this angle. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I care nothing about your secret. I just wanted to look you in the eye.” He mused, rummaging through his back pockets. Your breath hitched in your throat as he slid a knife from its sheath, finely carved and sharpened and lowered it to his side before pacing around you, stopping as his firm torso pressed up against the tip of your neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced for your neck to be split open, only to be released from your bounds.  

Instinctively, you went to shoot some webs, hoping you could at least catapult yourself across the room, but he tightly grasped your wrists, steadying your arms in place.  

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” he sneered. “These are antiques.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Get up,” he announced suddenly, almost dragging you to your feet. Hesitantly, you began to shuffle out of the room, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless walls and corridors, all framed in ivory and the finest mahogany. “Keep walking until I tell you to stop.” 

You continued down the hall, opting for a straight line. It seemed to be the correct way as once you passed into the threshold of a room that had a velvet chaise lounges and a dresser, he dropped his hands from their grip on your own, closing the door behind you. Oddly enough, you never heard the click of a latch. 

Without a word, he walked past you to open the drawer, rummaging through the contents. It utterly baffled you why you didn’t feel the urge to protest, or even fight. The entire ordeal was feeling more like a glorified house tour with a side of intimidation rather than a future crime scene. 

Was it because he was handsome? Wild? Filthy rich? Whatever happened to your values? Perhaps Jameson was right.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the man placing something in the desk, curling his finger to beckon you towards him.  

“See this? This is what keeps me going,”he said, rolling a vial of florescent liquid in his fingertips.  “You and I are more alike than you think.” 

You scoffed, trying to ignore how close he was to you. He had an earthly musk that invaded your senses, sending tingles down your spine… and to your core. 

“I don’t need a drug to do what I do.” 

“Never mind the drug. It’s our blood that makes us strong.” 

You cocked a brow and he ignored your confused look. 

“You know, I’ve always hated spiders…” he began, rubbing his beard in contemplation.  “Too itchy; unpredictable. You never really know where they’re going to show up. If I ever saw one, I used to pop them like a zit.” 

There was a clear disgust in his words and vacant look in his eye that sunk you into a pit of fear for perhaps the first time since regaining your consciousness. You knew that it was just about you (surely), but perhaps a weird extension of your being; something bigger, far more innate than a girl in a spandex spider suit. 

“But then I realised that for their size, they’re deadly. Powerful, even. Recently I’ve wondered what it would look like if I harnessed it myself.” 

You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your dry throat once more. 

“A drop of blood usually does the trick.” 

He tutted. Perhaps you were being too fickle. 

“No, любимец [darling], not that way. I crave something more.” 

Your eyes darted to the lounge. Since when did Spider-Woman lack composure? Kraven’s impenetrable gaze followed your own, and he chuckled knowingly. 

“With your arachnid abilities and my strength, we could create something truly unique. Nature has its ways, you know.” 

“You’re sick,” you replied, your chin held high but your bottom lip wobbled. “I’ll never join you. What you do is immoral.” 

Kraven furrowed his brows. 

“You killed a man, and you talk about morality?” 

“He was a bad man.” 

“He was my brother.” 

The word humanised him a bit. The Chameleon wasn’t your most imposing foe, but he was still a challenge you’d been rather glad to conquer. It was all too often that you’d fallen into the trap of thinking that the world was black and white; good and bad, when occasionally it was grey. Kraven was allowed to grieve his brother, but at the end of the day they were both bad guys. 

Then why did he turn you on so much? 

“You don’t have to resist,” the man grinned, strolling towards you. He stopped, glancing down and reaching a hand up to cup the sides of your face, caressing your cheekbones and sides of your lip with his thumb, threatening to penetrate your mouth. “I’ve never been this close to you before…I can smell you.” 

You were both superhuman, but he had the thirst of a predator. Quite literally. Breath hitched in your throat as he angled his lips to your ear, whispering a few fatal words. 

“Give in, маленький паучок [little spider]. Your body yearns for me.” 

One large hand was wrapped around your neck as he kissed you, his wild beard scratching against your face as his other hand snaked down your suit, down to between your thighs. The latex did nothing to offer you safety, his callouses prodding at your wet slit and beginning to rub in small circles, oh-so internationally slow, making sure he pressed against the hood of your clit. 

He had you as soon as a small moan escaped your lips. It’d been a while since you’d been touched, let a alone by someone who was as well-travelled as The Hunter himself, and every kiss, nibble and squeeze was sending you into a deeper spiral of lust and guilt that you could barely fathom that you’d already made your way to the lounge. 

You pulled away as your calves collided with the frame, lips wet and parted as you glanced up at him – wholly helplessly. His hand remained firm on your face, angling his head as he smirked at your shielded demeanour, a far cry from the flashy superhero you’d been but an hour ago.  

“Kra—“ 

“Don’t call me that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Call me Sergei. I need to hear you say it.” 

The name rolled from your lips as a cry as he bunched the sides of your suit in his hands and tearing it apart, exposing your bare pussy and ass, with strands of fabric shaping your legs like a makeshift garter. He grinned, large hands frantically groping at your thighs and ass, spreading your cheeks apart and exposing your hot core to the cool air. 

“прекрасный.” [Gorgeous] he moaned, swatting at your ass before dipping his fingers inside you, rubbing your folds between his fingers as you coated him in your juices. Grasping your hands around his thick neck, you clung onto what you could as he explored your body, lowering you down onto the smooth velvet. 

It wasn’t long before he straddled you, holding your body down with his pelvis as he removed his jacket, giving you an eyeful of his crafted torso. Unsurprisingly, he had the body of a God, with a prominent v-line and happy trail pointing down to between his legs. Even through his heavy trousers you could make out his bulge, mounded and ready for you. 

You gasped in anticipation, watching as the man withdrew his cock from his briefs; red and girthy, with precum spilling from his tip. Skilfully, he spread your thighs, making sure they were safely by your sides (he’d seen how flexible you were, your ankles touching your ears was nothing) and lifting your lower back slightly off the cushions, pushing into you with a deep sigh. 

At first, his intrusion was a dull ache, but as he began to move his hips against your own you felt utterly fulfilled, moaning and writhing as he wasted no time in daggering your wanting pussy, making sure you felt every inch.  

“Sergei...” you cried, eyes fluttering shut as you flung your head back in pleasure. “Please...” 

“Say it again.” 

Words evaded you. 

The man grinned, flashing his canines as he tightened his grip, compelling him to fuck you harder. The whole ordeal was obscene; New York’s most treasured hero being bent into submission by the villain of the week, a scene so heinous that it was all the more endearing, and with every thrust you knew you wanted him more. Sergei didn’t care whether his combat boots scuffed the fine upholstery, or if his grip on your waist would leave a few bruises – he just wanted to own you. 

He huffed as his heavy balls slammed repeatedly against your crack, beginning to bottom out in you with every hit, so much so that it looked like you were conjoined.

Even through the strain in your legs you could tell you were close, knots in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel as your walls clenched around him, earning a delighted rumble from deep within his chest. 

You knew that he wasn’t one for talk, but you would’ve appreciated the warning that he was about to come. Every guy you’d been with tended to get sloppier, but he grew stronger, the literal animal in him taking over as he began to ramble and curse through gritted teeth in Russian.  

Sergei threw his head back as he held you down, hands pawing your breasts and strands of hair sprawled in a beautiful mess across his face as he came, ropes of hot white cum spilling into your pussy just as you dressed his cock in a silky sheen. Your chests heaved as you desperately tried to come down from your high, glancing down at your messy nether regions as his seed began to seep out of you.  

There was no going back. Nine months began now. 

Would it really be all that bad? 

It all went back to fear, really. In the back of his mind the thought of a spider still troubled Sergei, but at least he’d conquered it. Even if it was temporary. 

FIN. 

[exorcxqsm]

The price of desire.

ᯓWord Count: 4,4k

ᯓ tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, alterations to the main story, toxic relationship, dr/y humping, t/easing, (lowkey) o/rgasm control, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, breath play, sensory play, spanking, mention of breeding!kink (toxic if you squint really hard), creampies, dom!sylus, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie), violence, mentions of blood and injuries.

ᯓnotes: This is my first published work here, it took me some time to write but I believe I’m content with how it came out. At first, the idea was to keep it a part one which is connected to an event of the series. Ending this part, I can think of some ways this can go, but I’d still want your opinion:) If you want to see more of this, please go ahead and ask. Any reblogs and likes will be appreciated. 

You were a dangerous woman, a fact well-known throughout the N109 Zone. As the assistant to one of the most feared men in the underworld, your reputation was built on the edge of a knife. 

But today, the real danger sat directly across from you at the table—your boss's most formidable and deadly rival: Sylus.

His silver-white hair fell messily over his forehead, creating a disheveled yet intentional look that only added to his unsettling charisma. A smirk played on his lips, while his crimson eyes held an unreadable intensity,  as he sat on the table with his henchmen on each side of him. Luke and Kieran.

You had done your research, uncovering every scrap of information about the three men before you. It was a challenge, of course; the leader of the most notorious illegal organization in the N109 Zone wasn’t one to divulge valuable intel easily. Yet you had pieced together enough to know the depths of Sylus's ruthlessness.

You were certain of one thing: Sylus would not hesitate to sacrifice anyone—including his own men—if it suited his purpose. The black-red tendrils of his mist would mercilessly end the person and he wouldn’t blink an eye while his lethal capability, capable of extinguishing a life in an instant, would take over. 

The only individuals he seemed to protect were Luke and Kieran, his unwavering henchmen, whose loyalty was both a strength and a potential weakness in this deadly game.

Everyone claimed that the twins were somewhat adopted by him—a complex relationship in which he protected and provided for them in exchange for their loyalty and services.

If you were being honest with yourself, you found yourself drawn to the twins. They exuded a carefree spirit that brought an element of fun, even in the context of business. You often wished you could shed your own uptight demeanor and embrace life as they did.

Your thoughts were abruptly pulled back to the present when one of Sylus’s men dropped two large armory boxes onto the table that separated your group from his. As the man opened the boxes, a collection of modified and illegal firearms was revealed, each piece looking as lethal as the man who had crafted them.

Dante, your boss, rose from his chair beside you to inspect the guns. After all, that was the purpose of this meeting—a trade, a business transaction between two men who despised each other's very existence, yet could not deny that, in times of crisis, their respective resources could prove invaluable to one another.

Dante provided the protocores, and Sylus expertly modified them. When Dante requested his part of the deal, the modified protocores were returned to him in the form of firearms capable of ending a life in less than the blink of an eye.

“Resourceful as always, Mr. Sylus,” your boss mused, but Sylus’s gaze was locked onto yours, seemingly ignoring Dante entirely.

“Oh, Dante,” he said, the man’s name dripping with disdain, “my little black heart is shattered into pieces. One would think you’d have learned by now not to question my methods or my work.”

You rolled your eyes at the silver-haired menace, your heels clicking against the carpet in a rhythm of impatience. You were growing weary of this standoff. Dante needed to state the agreed price and move on already.

“Set the price.”

Sylus’s smirk widened at Dante’s request, his eyes now fully focused on him. He seemed to stall deliberately, taking slow, measured steps around the room. His imposing aura filled the space, the coat draped over his broad shoulders swaying slightly with each movement. Finally, he came to a halt by the table, gripping its edge with both hands and leaning forward.

“Such a pretty kitten you have with you, hm?” he taunted.

Your gaze turned icy as Dante’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Are you referring to Miss Y/N?”

Sylus tilted his head to the side, his crimson eyes locking onto you once more, studying you with an intensity that made you uneasy. “You’re a foolish man, Dante.”

“What the hell did you just say?” 

You exhaled through your nose, frustrated by your boss’s inability to keep his pride in check when it came to Sylus. This man ran an entire organization yet seemed unable to handle a little provocation.

“I said…” Sylus drawled, relishing the moment, “you’re a foolish man. Only someone with the brain capacity of a goldfish would keep a pretty kitten like her uncollared.”

You shot up from your seat faster than lightning, leaning dangerously close to Sylus, your hand itching to grab one of the weapons from the boxes in front of you.

“You should watch your mouth when speaking to a lady, Mr. Sylus,” you seethed, your voice low but fierce. “Only a man with the brain capacity of a goldfish would disrespect a woman for no apparent reason.”

Sylus chuckled at your retort, a wide grin spreading across his sharp features, revealing his teeth.

“Feisty,” he mouthed, a smirk playing on his lips, meant only for you to see.

Just then, Dante stepped up behind you, and you almost forgot he was there until his hand landed firmly on your behind, giving it a squeeze. Your hand was so close to the gun that it took all your willpower not to reach for it.

Sylus's expression shifted, the amusement fading as his brows furrowed, re-centering on his forehead.

“Set. Your. Price,” Dante reiterated, his body uncomfortably close to yours.

You had served as his assistant for far too many years, becoming accustomed to his unpredictable behavior. Yet, deep down, he knew you wouldn’t dare act against him with all his guards surrounding him.

You were a capable assassin, more than capable of matching his malevolence, but you were just one woman up against his entire army. He was well aware of your skills, which is precisely why he always kept a close contingent of guards present during your meetings in his office. You were his most valuable asset, yet he was frightened of what you could do if pushed too far.

Despite this knowledge, he often seemed to forget the extent of your capabilities, choosing instead to provoke Sylus.

“Her.”

“No.” Your response was immediate, your tone firm. He couldn’t be serious.

Dante’s chest shook with laughter beside you, his golden teeth glinting in the light.

“She’s off the table, I’m afraid,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Very well, then.” Sylus retracted from the table and rose to his full height, a shadow looming over both you and your boss. “So is the deal. Have a good one, Mr. Dante.”

Your shoulders relaxed for only a brief moment, but before you could even blink, you found yourself lifted off your feet and thrown over the table like a ragdoll.

Fucking bastard.

Of course, the deal was too important for him to let it slip away. Sylus knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled this stunt.

“Don’t even think about it,” you spat, your voice harsh and defiant. “I am your right hand; your business will crumble without me!”

Sylus seemed to revel in the chaos, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. As his black-red mist began to swirl around the room, it coalesced around your body, lifting you off the table and bringing you effortlessly to his side.

Your struggles were utterly futile. No power could match his evol.

“Bastard!” you yelled, directing your fury at your boss.

Dante let out a deep sigh, visibly irritated but choosing to remain silent. His organization was already on the brink of collapse, a fact known only to you—and apparently Sylus too. That was the reason he had recently struck a deal with Onychinus; only their resources could possibly uplift him now—if anyone could, that is.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Dante.”

The plush sofa of his dimly lit living room felt uncomfortably rough against your bare thighs as you took in your surroundings. Your revealing dress had ridden up significantly due to the twins’ rough handling as they placed you there, while their boss prowled around the sofa like a predator circling its prey.

The record player in the corner emitted a classical melody that only heightened the unnerving atmosphere, each note echoing with an eerie elegance.

“So uptight,” Sylus whispered in your ear, causing you to jump as his breath brushed against your skin. You hadn’t even noticed when he had gotten so close. “My, my… and so jumpy, aren’t we, kitten? Just try not to scratch my ceiling.”

You turned to glare at him, and if looks could kill, he would have been slain by the fire in your eyes. Nevertheless, you managed to keep your voice steady. “Why am I here?”

He didn’t bother to meet your gaze as he sank into his enormous cushioned chair across from you. A black-and-red mist began to swirl around your body once more, and before you could react, it lifted you off the couch and positioned you right on his lap, straddling him.

“What the hell?”

His hand shot up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Shh, just keep your claws sheathed for a moment.”

You could feel your patience wearing thin. “Why. am I. here?”

Sylus's jaw tightened slightly, and if you weren’t intently observing his every expression, you might have missed it. “Because, kitten, Dante and I had a transaction.”

“Isn’t your typical price protocores when dealing with my boss?”

“Typically…” Sylus’s gaze was fixed on your face as an eerie silence enveloped the room.

Before you could process his words, his hand snaked around your throat, pulling you closer. His eyes locked onto your lips, a predatory glint flickering within them.

“What are you doing…” you whispered, your body tensing in instinctive response.

“Show me, kitten.”

“What?”

Sylus chuckled softly, a mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. “I know you’re a smart kitten; don’t play dumb with me. It won’t help you.”

Of course, you understood what he was implying, but how did he know?

“I have no idea what you want,” you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

His hand tightened around your throat, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Then you noticed it—the red glow of his eye—and you realized what he was doing. “Show me.”

Ironically, he was now in control of your actions, even though he sought the opposite.

You slowly removed your glove, compelled by the white-haired man in front of you. Your bare hand pressed firmly against his chest, and in an instant, his heartbeat ceased.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

You stared at his face, dumbfounded, as the glow in his eye faded and his complexion turned an ashen pale. Before you could comprehend what was happening, a low chuckle echoed through the dimly lit room.

Sylus’s chuckle. He was alive. Wait, what the hell?

His laughter grew more vibrant with each passing second as he took in your horrified expression. You shot your hand out again, daring to touch him, but he caught your wrist, tossing it aside with ease.

“Ravishing…” he breathed, his eyes darkening to a richer shade.

You watched him for a moment, trying to make sense of everything that had unfolded in the past few hours, until suddenly, everything clicked into place.

You gasped.

“You fucking bastard!” you shouted, fury igniting in your voice. “Is this why you didn’t take the protocores? Is this why you asked for me?”

Sylus’s arrogant smirk returned, dominating his features. “He wasn’t aware of the precious possession he had in his own house, sweetie. But I am.”

“You are… sick.” The expression on his face darkened, and something twisted in your gut, though you wished it was anything but excitement at his subtle praise. “You will not control me. I belong to no one.”

“Oh, kitten, I’m not trying to control you. This is just… a deal.” His eyebrows shot up, his face tilting slightly to the side as if he found your defiance amusing. “Isn’t business what you excel at? Or do you want me to believe it was Dante who called the shots?”

Your own expression faltered, but your body began to relax atop his, a fact he noted with a small, apprehensive smile that curled at his lips. “Are you trying to extract intel from me?”

He rolled his eyes at your tactics, a playful smirk on his face. “You are so gullible, kitten.”

He leaned in impossibly close, your breath catching in your throat and a shiver coursing through you as your body responded to his proximity. This was all so wrong.

“He didn’t value you nearly enough, sweetie,” Sylus whispered against your pulse, his warm breath sending a jolt through you. “But I can.” His teeth grazed your throat, and as your mouth opened, no sound dared to escape your lips.

“I…” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I have no idea what—”

In one swift movement, you found yourself perched on the edge of the chair, Sylus looming over you like a consuming inferno. Your chests were nearly touching, and his eyes held a dangerous allure as he stared directly into your own. “I believe you do.”

His hand drifted from beside your head, descending to your collarbone as his fingertips caressed the delicate skin with a featherlight touch. “You can end someone with just a touch…” he whispered against your neck, and you had to fight against the electric shivers coursing through your body. “I am the only person you can’t kill, even if you tried, kitten.”

Your mind was slowly turning to mush as his hand roamed over the sensitive swell of your breasts, his lips planting tender kisses against your throat. “Don’t you see where I’m going with this? We’re meant for each other. Kindred spirits.”

“You’re insane,” you wanted to accuse him, but your voice came out breathless, betraying your mounting desire. A soft grunt escaped his lips, a sound that only fueled the tension between you.

“If I’m insane, what does that say about you, sweetie?” He began kissing his way down from your neck to your collarbone, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “I can smell your arousal from up here.”

You gasped at his bold accusation, your body jerking in response, but it only heightened the sensation as your clothed core pressed against his torso. You tensed, and his lips curled into a dangerous smirk. “So insatiable…”

“This is so wrong…”

“I’ve never been a righteous man.”

You leaned back instinctively, your hands reaching out as if to find comfort around his neck, but he halted your movement just before contact.

In your hazy state, you noticed him licking his lips, his gaze searching the floor for something—your glove.

“As much as I can’t think of another way to go, I’d prefer to be fully conscious when your pretty cunt is all over my mouth.”

“You’re… outrageous,” your voice faltered, betraying the rush of emotions coursing through you. Your body reacted in ways that contradicted your words.

“Do you prefer gentle, kitten?” Sylus asked, his fingers teasingly tugging at the neckline of your dress, unveiling your flushed skin. His tongue flicked over your right nipple, while his other hand caressed the neglected one. “Would you rather I whisper sweet nothings and cherish you gently?”

His tone dripped with playful mockery, and you arched your back, responding instinctively to his touch and taunting words.

“Would you like me to take it slow? To tell you how beautiful you are?” he teased, his laughter rumbling softly in the air.

Your resolve crumbled as he nipped at your sensitive bud, his hand expertly working the other. “No!” you moaned, your gloved fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, caught in the intoxicating desire in the air.

He growled against your chest, his body pressing forcefully against your legs as they parted to accommodate him. He felt a thrill of compliance wash over you, nearly tempting him to follow through on his suggestion to take it easy.

“More,” you demanded, your fingers tugging insistently at his head, guiding him downward to where your dress had pooled around your waist, leaving your red lace panties tantalizingly exposed.

Sylus grinned at your eagerness, his gaze lingering on your clothed cunt. “God, kitten…” he grunted, pressing his nose against the damp spot on your panties, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as a thrill of shame coursed through you. “Did you wear my favorite color on purpose?”

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Or did you wear it for him?”

You could only whimper in response, arching your body desperately to bring his face where you craved it most. Instead, a sharp sting greeted your cunt, your eyes widening as a gasp of surprise escaped your lips.

He slapped your pussy again, his expression darkening into a scowl. “Answer me, kitten. Did you get all dolled up for him?”

You clenched around nothing, the possessiveness in his tone igniting a deeper need within you. “No,” you whimpered softly. “It wasn’t for him.”

In an instant, he tore your panties away, his mouth descending on your cunt, his tongue skillfully lapping at your folds. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Your fingers clawed at his shoulder, sounds of pleasure escaping you uncontrollably as he toyed with your sensitive clit. “Such a sweet pussy,” he grunted against your core, sending shivers through your body. You slid down the chair, his face pressed firmly against you, your lower body lifted almost into the air. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he devoured you.

“Say my name, kitten.”

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, already giving him too much. “N-no.”

His teeth grazed your clit, sending waves of pleasure and frustration coursing through you as he slid one finger against your entrance, teasingly. “No?”

“No.” Your voice trembled, betraying the mix of emotions swelling within you as you neared your release with each stroke of his tongue, yet your stubbornness held firm.

“Very well, then.” In an instant, his mouth was gone, leaving you feeling cold and exposed as he stood to his full height.

“What…?”

Sylus leaned over you again, delivering a sharp slap to the side of your breasts that made you squirm and gasp. “This is my zone. My side of the board. Here, you either play by my rules and win, or you go against me and lose.” His voice was low and commanding as his hand reached down again, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. “What will it be, kitten?”

By this point, your entire body felt like it belonged to someone else. “Please…” Your voice was laced with desperation, the plea spilling from your lips, unrecognizable even to you.

“Please what? Just say it, sweetie,” he urged, a teasing glint in his eyes.

His fingers quickened their pace, and your legs trembled under the mounting pleasure, each mewl that escaped your lips a symphony to his ears. “So—Oh my god… S-so close.”

The moment he sensed your walls beginning to clench around his fingers, a satisfied smile crept across his face, and you returned it through a haze of bliss—until you felt him start to withdraw.

Your hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist with a desperate grip, pulling him back toward you. “Sylus!” you cried, your stomach twisting in knots as sweet release threatened to crash over you.

“Sylus, yes, oh my god, yes…” You were barely coherent, the words tumbling from your mouth, but Sylus grunted, his pants taut against his rock-hard cock.

“That’s it… That’s it, sweetie, I know. Drench my fingers; they’re all yours.” He moved with an urgency that took your breath away, thrusting deeply inside you, sending shivers through your entire body as you rode the wave of your climax.

You panted, your chest rising and falling heavily. As the haze began to lift, your mouth fell open in awe, watching Sylus suckle on his fingers, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he savored your essence.

A fresh wave of slickness coated your folds, and Sylus cursed under his breath as he stood, taking you with him. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your bare, wet cunt smearing against the fabric of his pants, leaving a tantalizing mess.

The coarse material of his attire heightened your senses, making your body arch in his arms as you ground your hips down, chasing that blissful friction.

“So eager…” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin before he nipped at your earlobe. “And so fucking wet.” He strode toward his desk just a few feet away, easing you onto your feet. “I’m going to devour you.”

In one swift motion, your belly pressed against the polished surface of his mahogany desk, your body bent over, your ass perfectly positioned for him. He didn’t allow you a moment to breathe before two sharp slaps landed on your cheeks, your body jolting forward in response.

Your moans filled the air, driving him wild, and the way your back arched instinctively shattered any semblance of his control.

You heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper, and a thrill raced through you as his cock was freed from its confines, teasingly brushing against your entrance.

Turning your head over your shoulder, your eyes fell on him, and a rush of desire coursed through you. He was enormous, his veins prominent and pulsing, the tip glistening with precum that trickled down, landing directly on your cunt.

“Sylus…” You brought his attention back to you, and the look on your face made his brows knot slightly in concern.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked, his voice thick with lust yet surprisingly calm. “Do you want me to stop?”

You placed your hand lightly against his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, and shook your head. “No, it’s just…” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, almost mirroring the color of his eyes. “It’s not going to fit.”

Sylus paused, momentarily dumbfounded, before releasing the breath he had been holding along with a low chuckle. “We’re going to make it fit, kitten.”

Skepticism flickered in your eyes, and he noticed.

“Do you trust me?”

“No.” You answered honestly. He had been your rival until now, and you couldn’t fully grasp how your dynamic had shifted to this moment, you bent over his desk, spread  and exposed.

He grinned, shaking his head in amusement. “You shouldn’t.”

In one powerful thrust, he was inside you, and your eyes rolled back in your head as pleasure surged through your body, overwhelming your senses.

“Fuck!” you cried out, but there was no pain—he seemed to know exactly how to plunge into you.

“Shit… You’re so tight,” Sylus growled, his hips slapping against yours as he took you roughly, driving deep against the surface of his desk. “It would’ve hurt more if I’d taken it slow, sweetie.”

It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to speak, but even if he could, you wouldn’t have heard him. Your mind was consumed with the exquisite fullness of his cock filling you completely.

Your eyes crossed as he continued to thrust in and out, your lips parted in a silent gasp, drool escaping the corner of your mouth and trickling down to the polished surface of his desk.

“Cock-hungry little whore,” he grunted, folding his body over yours to penetrate you even deeper. “And you claim you hate me.”

“I d-do,” you managed to moan, your legs trembling from the intensity of the sensations.

“You hate me, yet your sweet cunt is squeezing my cock like it’s her lover.”

Your mewls and whimpers grew louder with each thrust, your head spinning from the overwhelming pleasure. “Sylus…” you moaned his name, urging him onward toward his own release.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“I-I’m… s’close. So so close.” Tears were welling up in your eyes, and Sylus moaned deeply behind you as he felt your cunt squeezing him, clenching around him like he belonged there. Because he did. 

His hand shot up, wrapping around your throat as he kept pounding you from behind, his whole desk shaking from the force of his thrusts. You were sure a bruise would form on your abdomen where it made contact with the wood. 

Your eyes rolled as he applied more pressure, making it difficult for you to breathe. “Such a pretty kitten…” He moaned in your ear. “And now she’s collared. As she should be.”

Your orgasm broke through you with a new force, the tears escaping your eyes and your cries lulling Sylus to fall on his own release right after you.

“Fuck.” He moaned, his teeth clamping down on your shoulder. Rope after rope of cum filled your cunt, his thighs shaking slightly from behind you as he emptied himself inside you. 

You were so overstimulated and sensitive by your encounter when Sylus caught his dripping cum from your thighs and pushed it right back in.

Your legs threatened to give out, your mind clouding the moment he began to fill you with his seed once more. “Such a pretty cunt, used and bred by me,” Sylus murmured, his voice low and possessive. “What will your boss say when my kids are running around his base, huh?”

You weren’t even aware of how or when it happened, but suddenly you were moaning his name, sweet and desperate, as you drenched him once again. This time, the force of your release was blinding, your vision fading to a brilliant white.

Confused, you turned to see Sylus, his abdomen glistening with your essence, his fingers slick and dripping as he stared at you with a manic edge in his eyes.

“Oh my God…” Heat rushed to your cheeks as the realization of what you had just done washed over you. “I’m sorry… Sylus, I’m—”

Before you could finish, his hand pressed firmly against your lower back, forcing you back into position as you tried to shrink away from his gaze. “Kitten…” His voice was taut, barely contained. “We’re not leaving this room until you do this again.”

[thewritetofreespeech]

pairing: Gwayne x fiancé reader

summary: Gwayne may have lost the tourney, but he gained a better prize.

tags: female reader, reader is from the Reach, heterosexual relationship, hand job, mentions of injury, subtle Gwayne daddy issues (not sexy, just Gwayne being Gwayne), Gwayne being a simp for his lady

-----------------------------♟️----------------------------------

When Gwayne told his father one day, at about the age of six, that he was going to take up the sword and learn to be a knight, all his father said was, “are you sure?”

His opinion on the announcement did not seem to sway one way or another, much like his opinion on the actual son. Their lady mother had given him an heir, a spare, a daughter, and Gwayne. His brothers would be learned men like their father, so Gwayne thought he could be useful by being a marshal man for his family. He was actually quite good at it too. All of his instructors said so. His training partners. The men of their House bannermen.

But no one would know that now as Gwayne was quickly unseated in the first round of the tournament. A lucky shot. Luckier still as it could have been fatal, but instead just a wound to his left side and pride. To fall in front of his father and beloved sister wounded him still.

Gwayne had taken what was left of his pride and limped off the tourney grounds. Making it to an awaiting sick bay as injuries in tournaments were more common than not. He had to be stripped out of his armor like a pleb. Been tended to like an invalid while he grit his teeth and let the maester wrap his broken ribs. Just the one, actually. But it was enough to knock him out of the tournament for the rest of the week.

He sighed and rested his head against the headboard. All he wanted was to show his family that his efforts had not been in vain. To show them what he was working so hard for while they were in the Capital. Now he would have to wait for the next tournament. If his father even bothered to show up.

“Gwayne?” The knight looked up from his self-pity musing at the door and found his fiancé there. In his pain and grief over his disappointing show, he had completely forgotten she had been in the crowd too. Wonderful. Another beloved to witness his failure. “Are you alright? That fall…it looked rather nasty…”

“It wasn’t ideal.” He winced as he tried to move his arm to pull his shirt on. Finding it immodest to be in just bandages in front of a lady. She came to his side instantly, helping him pull his arm through with as little discomfort as possible. “Sorry you came all this way to witness such a poor showing. Or waste your favor.”

“It is not a waste Gwayne. Do not say such things.”

Gwayne reached in his pocket and pulled her ribbon from his trousers. She had given it to him the night before, in private, wishing him good fortune & safety in the events to come. He had had it in his breastplate when the games started, and squirrel it away into his pocket after he was injured so it wouldn’t be thrown away. “You should give it to a better knight then I. I’m done for.”

“You fell off a horse Gwayne, not the edge of the world.” She told him. “And, there is no better knight than you for me.” She pushed her offered ribbon back at him with a stern look. “If you keep speaking this way, I shall have to give back your favor and return to the Reach.”

His eyes lit up in alarm. Knowing that she meant his ring, and he could not have that. “Alright. I’m sorry.” To lose the tournament was one thing, but to lose her. Gwayne couldn’t stand it.

She smiled at him. Seeming pleased that he had gotten the hint on not being so hard on himself, and looked around quickly before she leaned in for a kiss. “I know you’re disappointed. But you’re alive and relatively unscathed.”

“And handsome.” He quipped back as he was starting to feel in good spirits. “Do not forget that.”

“Oh, how could I.” His beguiling fiancé leaned in to kiss him again. Longer this time. “Thank the Gods for fine helmets.”

It took Gwayne’s brain a bit to catch on that her hands were moving around his waist band. Perhaps it was the loss of air from their kissing. Or that his bell got run pretty hard in the fall and he was still recovering. Or perhaps still it was simply just her. But he caught on just about the time the cool air brushed against his nether regions, and he sprung up. “What are you doing?” He asked. His back teeth setting against the pain of his sudden movement as he fretfully looked over towards the door.

“Helping you relax.” She replied with some cheek. “I heard the maesters say you needed to do that and rest if you were to heal.”

“And you think undressing me in a room where just anyone could walk in is going to help me relax??”

“Well, no. Perhaps not that part.” Gwayne wheezed in a breath, as much as his battered ribs would allow, when she reached in and took hold of him. “But this part might.”

Gwayne knew not the touch of another, save his own hand. Though he took no vow like the King’s Guard when he became a knight, he had made a personal vow that he would be stalwart in his honor & practice. Dutiful to his House as to not sully it by laying Flowers at their doors. He does not ask how his future wife knew of such things. In all honesty, he did not want to know. All he could think about in that moment, after the shock and panic of getting caught, was how good her soft hand felt around his cock.

His member hardened quickly under her touch. Gwayne was still a young, virile man, with adrenaline still lingering in his veins, a strong breeze could get him up. He moaned quietly as his lady’s hand stroked him. Long steady pulls of her hand up & down. Watching as he was transfixed by this surreal experience that was happening to him.

“Does it feel good my love?” Gwayne nodded. His lord’s education failing him as he could not articulate in this moment how good it felt. “Good. I want to know how you like it, so I can prepare for our wedding night.” He moaned, or perhaps whimpered, at the thought. Just another 3 months. Just another 3 months and she would be his wife, and he would have her all to himself. Her body, her mind, her heart; though she had been clear that he already had the latter two. His hips bucked up at the thought of her beneath him and Gwayne let out a sharp cry that was crossed between one of pleasure & pain as his ribs were jostled again. Then he heard a flurry of scurried motion behind the door.

Panick set in, the fear of getting caught welling up inside him. Not just for himself but her as well. How would they explain such lewd behavior if they were caught? Her reputation would be besmirched. His father might call off the engagement in the face of such scandal!

Luckily his wife to be was not only beautiful but clever. Like all fine roses of the Reach. She quickly pulled a blanket over his midsection and placed their hands together over the spot where the obvious tenting would be. “Forgive me, my lady. I thought I heard his lordship call for help.”

“Such a steward of care you are, Maester Callen.” Her voice was sweet, complimentary, and hypnotic to Gwayne. “Just a twinge of the ribs from a sudden movement. The injury is new. Our silly Ser must have forgotten he had it for a moment.” Gwayne swallowed as her little finger brushed against the outline of him through the blankets. His jaw having to set as to not moan in a very indiscrete way in from of the maester.

“Are you sure he is alright?” Maester Callen asked. A curious look all men of learning seemed to get when they asked questions. “Your lordship looks feverish. There could be an underlying infection from the trauma—“I’m fine.” Gwayne barked quickly. His noble resolve hanging on by a thread thinner than this blanket. “I just need rest, as you said. Please,” ‘oh Gods, please, please, please!’ he thought as his lady continued to stroke him with just the finest touch to the point of madness this whole time, “leave us so I might finish my conversation with my lady and be about that.”

The maester seemed still curious, but asked no further questions. He bowed his head, then closed the door behind him as he left. “Good Gods….!” Gwayne hissed through his teeth as he writhed freely now that they were alone again.

“That was a close one.”

“You insufferable minx!” He hissed at her. That cheeky grin on her face was infuriating but also the vision from his dreams. “You nearly got us caught!”

“I’m not the one who inadvertently called him in here, now did I my love?” Gwayne had a few more sharp words for her but they all vanished as her hand pulled back the blanket again and stroked him fully.

His head tilted back with a moan. The fear of almost being caught, damning though it would be, had only heightened the sensation. He warned her that he was close, not sure if she knew what that meant, and let her swallow his final moans in a kiss as he came all over her hand and his linen dressings. She let him go, a soft kiss on his lips like a seal before she pulled away, and he slumped back against the bed like a witless fool.

“There. Now you can relax & rest completely, my love.” Gwayne nodded. Not sure what she was talking about right now, but rest sounded nice right now. “I shall come to see you tomorrow once they move you back to your quarters. We’ll have the whole afternoon to ourselves, since everyone will at the tournament.” Oh right. The tournament. He was supposed to apart of that. Showing his family & father how much he had trained for them. It suddenly didn’t seem all that important anymore. “Get better, my love.”

She kissed him one last time and then saw herself out. The picture of civility and the dutiful fiancé come to shower well wishes on her mate to be. No one knew, or would know, what had happened between them. Gwayne felt his spent cock twitch a little as he watched her walk away. Just 3 more months. Just 3 more months felt like an eternity all of a sudden.

[applecherrytea]

“Under the Rain, Stuck in my room”

Request from @diced-sugar: Hello! I just came across your blog from scrolling through the twst tag, so sorry I don’t know much about your preferences for writing certain characters 😞 but, if you want a request, could we maybe get something to do with your fav twst character and the prefect being forced to stay together at ramshackle due to a rainy day? Could be cute!! Have a nice day!!

A/N: AAAAAAA I’m so happy! Finally! An excuse to write about my husband and children! Most of these will be romantic, but if you want a platonic version all you need to be is send in an ask! I’ll be happy to write one! Thanks again for sending me your request! I hope you’ll like this!

Character(s) Involved: Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

CW/TW: G/N!Reader for the most of it. Some strong language during Idia’s part

The downpour came on so suddenly, one moment the sky was sunny and bright, the next it started raining so bad that all classes were suspended! Luckily you and [Character] are together! It’s too bad he wouldn’t be able to go back to his dorm though…

The rain really came on as a surprise. You had asked him to come over, so he could help you out with baking and learning how to cook with the ingredients you were able to haggle at Mr. Sam’s shop. You still can’t believe that that place was more than a magic store. “Wow…it’s really raining out there..” You say as you lean yourself on the window sill, Trey behind you, cooking up what was left of the ingredients you bought. “I already called Riddle, he said I should stay here till the storm blows over.” he said as he plated the food, “You don’t mind, do you perfect?” you signal no with your head, moving away from the window to help Trey out with cleaning up so you both could eat.

Leona was already getting comfortable on your couch as you watched the rain from the guest room window. “This sucks!” Leona peeks open one eye, “I was really looking forward to those specialty lunches they were gonna serve at the cafeteria!” you stomped your way over to the couch, plopping yourself on the empty space Leona gracefully left for you. “You know,” the lion beastman mused, “if you want, I can just order it for you?” he says as he pulls you down to his chest. You look at him quizzically “You really?” he hummed in response, “I told you already, you can use my money on whatever you need. And if what you need is a specialty lunch then,” he offered his phone to you “knock yourself out” You gleaned as you stood up with his phone in your hand, ordering lunch for you three. “Thanks a lot, love!” you pecked his cheek as you stood up from the couch, picking up Grim in the process.

“THIS SUCKS ASS!!!” both you and Idia screamed as you watched the rain pour down. He slumps down to the ground, back facing the wall. “This is so not cool…it’s like watching your new game unload all its data for hours!” you sighed as you joined the complaining housewarden on the floor. “Tell me about it..” you both sat in silence for a while, fidgeting with nearby things as you awkwardly awaited for the rain to stop. “So…” Idia sat idly as he took out his phone, “wanna play while we wait this out?” you smirked as a response, “Is that even a question?” You and Idia spent the next hours playing around multiple games, so long that the weather had passed and Ortho had to come out and take Idia back to Ignihyde.

You knew that the rain was coming, props to the forecaster for reporting about it. You sat in your living room with Grim for a while, waiting for a special someone to come over for your usual nightly walks. “I wonder how long he’s gonna take? The rain looks so serious…” As you said those words, a knock came from the main door. You hurriedly get up from the couch you were lazing on, wearing your rain clothes as well as an umbrella as you open the doors. “Hornton! There you are, was wondering when you’d come over.” you opened the door widely for Malleus. He smiled as he entered your dorm. “Thank you, child of man. If you are ready, then shall we go and take a look at the gargoyles?” You nod happily as you head out with Malleus for a rainy adventure.

[gghostwriter]

Hiya! :D

Since askbox is open, may I please order some slight hurt-comfort based off of "From Eden" by Hozier? Harnessing the pure longing this song emanates to me fr.

Something like non-BAU!reader getting hurt by an unsub during a case (non-lethal but it does require a stitch or two) and spencer gets abnormally worried about this one person among the group of victims (maybe serial bank robberies) and when the team notices it and ask him about it he reveals to them that they're actually his roommate?

something romantic-leaning; I just like the idea of him standing outside the hospital room door [OMG LIKE THE SONG] because the doctors told him to wait before he could go inside sitting there like 🥺 "My roommate :(" and getting embarassed when the team calls reader his partner; "You're so worried it's almost like you're dating." sort of feel

Sorry if this is long btw! I tend to go all out on ideas! Pronouns are up to you though, feel free to change anything to your liking as well! :]

Thanks for reading! :D

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Roommates; Comfort, Fluff, Angst w.c: 1.2k A/N: There's so much interpretation for 'From Eden by Hozier' and I had a challenging time trying to capture which meaning I wanted to encapsulate. This is also by far the longest request I've written and honestly this took a life of its own but I still hope you like it! Main masterlist

Eden. // Spencer Reid

The monotone droll in the bank was white noise in your life that you learned to slowly hate. Day in, day out it was the same thing—customers withdrawing, depositing, and claiming loans. You liked numbers, that was how you ended up as a manager, but the cookie cutter business smile you had to keep on your face was a con you wish to part from. 

You sighed. Your roommate turned secret crush, Dr. Spencer Reid, had warned you about the serial robberies that had happened within the state of Virginia and Washington. He advised you to be vigilant and if possible, to keep your phone within your reach and you easily agreed having heard some of the macabre cases he’d been involved in.

You just didn’t think it would happen today.

“Get down on the ground!” A man’s voice echoed throughout the lobby, followed by a series of gunshots.

Spencer’s voice played in your head as if he was a lighthouse guiding you out from the panic. Hide. Don’t panic. Press the hidden alarm and dial my number.

You thanked your past self for programming his contact on speed dial. Volume down and no words uttered, you hid the phone inside your blouse hoping to not get caught.

“You there!” One of the masked men caught sight of you. “Outside. Now!”

You nodded, averting your eyes to show submission. Another tactic from Spencer.

Wishing the call picked up the trio of robbers voices, you stayed facing down on the lobby surround by the rest of the hostages.

Spencer, please. Please, get my message.

Just a few miles away, tension was high in the BAU conference room. The round table littered with folders and cooling coffee mugs. The team was running on a mixture of caffeine and sheer will to solve the serial bank robber case, tagged as priority by Strauss, that had been terrorizing states for a span of months. 

Spencer raked his already unruly hair. So far, the profile was incomplete. They knew there were three in the team but with varying heights and builds in various crime scenes, even that was shaky. What they were sure of was the sick game of Russian roulette they would play with their hostages, always with one bullet in a revolver and who ever is unlucky, dies with a hole between their brows and the remaining hostages are pistol whipped to unconsciousness. 

He knew he should stay objective. He knew that but how could he, when who he considers as his secret flower was at risk every second the unsubs were at large? It was his mission to keep you safe and the chances of you being caught in the line of fire heightened each second.

Vibration from his pocket brought him out of his musings. 

It was you. Right there and then, Spencer knew it was anything but good. You never called during work hours and with the last conversation between you having been about safety, it had settled in his stomach that the worst reality had come to fruition.

He picked up without saying a word, straining his ears to hear any distinguishable background noise. That was when he heard it—the authoritative, cocky voice yelling at you to come outside. His heart dropped. 

No. No. No. Anything but this.

“Sir, we just got a call,” Penelope rushed into the conference room. “There’s a live hostage taking at—”

“—Commerce Bank. 125 Independence Boulevard,” Reid interjected.

The profilers shared a look.

“That’s right,” Penelope muttered.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at him as he hurriedly stood up and collected his belongings. “Wait Reid—” causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to face back at the team. “—How’d you know?”

“Because Y/N works there,” he promptly exits the room, hightailing it to the elevator.

Emily looked at JJ. “Who’s that?”

She shrugged, lost too on who you were.

———

The team had split into two vehicles. Hotch, Rossi, and Reid in one while Morgan Emily, and JJ in the other.

Rossi glanced at Hotch, communicating the tension Reid was releasing from the passenger seat. In turn, Hotch sneaks a peek via the rear view mirror and profiles Reid’s ticks—hands clasped tight together, right leg shaking up and down, eyes shifting from left to right, and deep breaths through the nose and mouth. 

“Reid,” he called out.

Blown wide doe eyes meet his. “Hm?”

“We need you to stay focused. If you can’t do that, I’ll pull you out of this case.”

“I—I can do it!” His voice cracking.

“Are you sure, kid?” Rossi clarified.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s just she’s my—” roommate but that singular title wasn’t fitting to describe who you were to him. No classification was good enough, really. “—I can focus,” he declared. 

There was a series of looks exchanged between the two senior agents. They didn’t need to be seasoned profilers to understand that their youngest is one slip away from panic.

Hotch sighed. “Alright, Reid, but you follow my orders. Got it?”

“Yes.” 

———

Einstein’s theory of special relativity was what came to mind as he paced outside your hospital room. The physicist implied that time moves relative to the observer. An object moving very fast experiences time more slowly than in rest and that was exactly what he felt as he paces back and forth outside your room, desperately waiting for any update—the good or the bad. Everyone seemed to be moving at a leisure pace while he, Dr. Spencer Reid, hangs on the precipice of elation and despair. 

The team had sent him away, to you specifically, when it was obvious that his otherwise objective mind was of no help in finishing up the case. Was it dreadful of him that he felt relief course through his veins when it wasn’t you that got the short end of the stick during the unsubs’ Russian Roulette? Yes, possibly but he was only human. A being filled with conundrums and good vs evil. 

The impact of today was eye opening. He could no longer deny to himself that you were more than just a roommate or an acquaintance or a friend. Oh, how hard he tried so hard to push away any thought that seemed any less innocent or chivalrous, but the idea of seeing those beautiful eyes broken and in pain made him want to face the truth. The truth being how deliriously in love Spencer Reid was with you. 

His phone rang, disturbing his mind-altering revelation thoughts.

“Hey kid,” It was Morgan. “How is she?”

Reid licked his lips, eyes trained on the still closed door. “I—I haven’t seen her. The doctors are still inside and I’m still here—outside.” 

“I know this isn’t the time but should we know who she is?” A pause. “Girlfriend?”

“No. No, she’s my roommate,” his sigh coated in despair, murky and sad enough for Morgan to notice.

“You sounded so worried. It’s almost like you’re in love with her or something.”

“I am—” your door opened. “I have to go, Morgan,” he hung up before another word could be uttered.

“Are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” The female doctor asked.

He nodded.

She smiled. “She’ll see you now.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[thepromptfoundry]

Calling all history nerds, period piece connoisseurs, and fans of time-travel plots! Decades December is coming up here at The Prompt Foundry!

This list is being posted a little earlier than usual because historical work can take some time. The list has some reference points for you to jump off from. Show off your special interest in a particular era or event, or start a wiki walk from the the Wikipedia page for each decade to learn something new!

Have fun exploring resources like @thetimelinesofslang, the Fashion History Timelines from NYSU's Fashion Institute of Technology, or the fashion plates and historical photos from blogs like @omgthatdress or @historical-fashion-polls!

If you use this list, please tag me here @thepromptfoundry, I’d love to see your writing and art!

Feel free to combine different days' prompts with each other, or combine them with other events! Use your OCs, your favorite characters from media, your own experiences, whatever tickles your fancy.

Respond to as many prompts as you want or as interest you, don’t worry about missing or skipping any. Remember, this is supposed to be fun!

If you have any questions or musings, check our FAQ, and if you don't find your answer, shoot me an ask.

Plain text list below the cut:

1) 0010s Xin dynasty in China, Caesar Augustus in Rome

2) 1900s Edwardian era, Russo-Japanese War, release of the first feature film The Great Train Robbery

3) 300s Teotihuacan flourishing in present-day Mexico, writing of the Kama Sutra

4) 1910s World War 1, the Russian Revolution

5) 1440s Late Middle Ages/Early Renaissance in Europe, the hangul writing system is introduced in Korea

6) 1920s Prohibition in the US, rise of fascism in Europe, earliest sync-sound movies

7) 0070s Roman Epire, destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, eruption of Mt. Vesuvius and destruction of Pompeii

8) 1930s The Great Depression, the Declaration of the Independence of India, art deco, color film

9) 1090s The First Crusade, the Liao, Xia, and Song dynasties in various parts of China

10) 1810s The Napoleonic Wars, the Regency era in England

11) 1940s World War 2, post-war rebuilding

12) 1000s BC The Iron Age, King David of the Israelites, development of the Phoenician alphabet

13) 1950s Baby Boom, Red Scare, the Korean War, rock'n'roll, zippers and television both become commonplace

14) 1340s The Black Death in Europe, decline of the Mongol Empire

15) 1590s Late Elizabethan Era in Europe, William Shakespeare, Imjin War between Japan and Korea

16) 1960s Moon landing, hippies, mod fashion, Chinese Cultural Revolution, Stonewall, Star Trek, the Civil Rights movement

17) 1770s The American Revolution, founding of the real Illuminati

18) 1860s American Civil War era, late Edo period in Japan

19) 1970s The Sexual Revolution, disco, the first video games, end of the Vietnam War

20) 2200s Whatever the future holds!

21) 1980s End of the Cold War and fall of the Berlin Wall, beginnings of the World Wide Web, the First Intifada in Gaza

22) 1660s Part of the Golden Age of Piracy, the English Restoration

23) 1990s Internet access becomes widespread, grunge, the Gulf War, the Troubles in Ireland, height of the AIDS crisis, Princess Dianna, first Pokemon games

24) 1230s University of Cambridge founded in England, beginnings of the Mali Empire in Africa, rein of Emperor Shijo in Japan

25) 2000s The “War On Terror”, rise of Big Tech, Y2K fashion, emo culture, cell phones become commonplace

26) 1880s Gilded Age, the first skyscrapers, electrification of cities, first household electrical appliances like fans and irons

27) 1640s Qing dynasty begins in China, the First English Civil War

28) 2010s Hipster culture, height of video streaming, YA lit boom

29) 500s Liang and Northern Wei dynasties in China, Heptarchy period in England, height of prosperity of the Mayan Empire

30) 2020s Present day!

31) 3130s Whatever the future holds!

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

Impatience Born of Boredom

According to his mother, Sherlock learned to run before he could walk.

“You ran, even indoors,” she tells him every time his childhood is brought up.

Not by him, mind you.

“So, he was impatient and bored even as a child, then?” John asked the first time they visited Sherlock’s parents.

“Indeed,” Mrs. Holmes said, and rolled her eyes.

“He could have been an athlete, if he had bothered to put in the necessary training,” Sherlock’s father mused.

After that, it was Sherlock’s turn to roll his eyes.     

***

“You have an incredible stamina,” John pants.

They have chased another villain through parks, streets, and rooftops for almost half an hour. Sherlock’s voice, when they finally catch up with the man in question, sounds like he’s just walked from the tube to Baker Street.

“Running far and fast like this, is utterly liberating,” Sherlock explains, while they wait for Lestrade to show up.

John and the criminal are both breathless, and Sherlock handcuffs the latter with ease. He’s too exhausted to protest, trying his best to get enough oxygen to reach his lungs.

“It reminds me of my childhood, when I ran around like a savage in the forest. No one stops you when you’re running to catch a criminal, John.”

***

“What about when you started secondary school, and later, uni?” John wants to know later that day.

He’s suddenly fascinated by this topic.

Sherlock is curled up on the sofa, his head in John’s lap. This is not something he’s discussed with others, apart from Mycroft. He knows that John will find it unpleasant, but John’s too stubborn to let him off the hook.

“I still ran. I had to, if I should avoid my classmates.”

“Alright,” John says, hesitantly. “Why did you want to avoid them?”

“Oh, for numerous reasons. Mostly to keep away from ending up at the school nurse, or the infirmary,” Sherlock mumbles.

The memory makes the old nausea from his school days surge through him. John’s steady hands in his hair and on his back, allows him to ground himself.

It’s all in the past. You have John now. Breathe.

“I wish I could’ve been there, to prevent those brutes from hurting you,” John says, through gritted teeth.

“Mm, I would have loved to see you tackle them, wearing you rugby gear,” Sherlock purrs.

His earlier discomfort has been replaced by arousal and warm affection. 

“Would you now,” John murmurs, and pulls at Sherlock’s hair, so he’s forced to look up at John.

“Very much,” Sherlock agrees.

He frees himself, stands, and beckons John to race him to the bedroom. John doesn’t need to be asked twice, even though it’s a losing game for his short legs. The prize is in the chase, and what awaits him in their bed.

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

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

@raina-at @meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely

@gregorovitch-adler @jolieblack @peanitbear @phoenix27884 @bs2sjh

@brandiwein1982 @meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl @221beloved @ninasnakie

@shy-bi-inlovewithregandmoony @lhrinchelsea

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or untagged)

[spirited-splashes]

dont tag as ship. Click image for higher quality cause tumblr compresses the heck out of these—

THE SHORTEST GAME OF INTERDIMENSIONAL CHESS EVER

Non-Canon compliant fanfic undercut, 364 words, just some silly stuff

The endless night of sky loomed everywhere;  twinkling stars and nebulas were a common occurrence and formed what felt like a painting from the masters.

    Ford floated around his dream, his hair answering to the zero-gravity environment as it floated alongside the ends of his jacket.

He walked, or atleast tried to walk (he mostly just did a swim-like motion) to what he found to be a wooden table with two chairs on opposite ends, somehow not tipping over and not answering to the enviorment’s physics.

   On the table was a checkered bluely-projected chessboard, with all the chess pieces still on the board despite the no-gravity environment.

“HEY, SIXER! UP FOR ANOTHER ROUND?”

Ford looked up and saw his good old muse:  Bill Cipher.

    He was a golden 2D triangle that had a brick like pattern, a black-top hat, and bow tie;  he also had noodle black arms and legs, His singular eye was near the point of his tip had overexaggerated eyelashs and his pupil was cat-like.

“Ofcourse!”

Ford floated over to the chess board, with him taking the white pieces and Cipher taking the black ones on the opposite end.

    Ford had a secret:  he has no idea how to play chess.   He knows how the pieces move but he could never be bothered to pick it up as a hobby and learn the tactics or opening principles (plus he knew colleges wouldn’t care since he had an SAT score so high it would break the machines)

“Okay, just…strategy, what about—“ he thought to himself

He ended up doing the worst possible move ever: pawn to F3

Bill just…stared at that move for a while, his eye agape with confusion before he shrugged and moved his king’s pawn to E5.

    The young man decided to push his pawn to g4 but bill ended up checkmating him on the next turn with queen to h4

“THAT IS STATISTICALLY THE WORST MOVE YOU CAN PLAY EVER IN THE MULTIVERSE OF CHESS.   SERIOUSLY WHAT-WHAT WAS THAT?” Asked Cipher as he looked up to Ford who seemed to grip the ledges of his seat in embarrassment.   “…DO YOU UH…DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW THIS WORKS?”

“…no.”

(welp! Here’s a fanfic for you chess nerds out there)

[afaroffsong]

I was tagged in this game by @brb-on-a-quest and @informedimagining:

Reblog game. You tag the people that you can think of on the top of your head and use two words to use to describe them (people you follow, moots, or followers)

I thought I would do it for all of my mutuals. ^_^ And now that I've gone through my list I realise there are a LOT of yous and I also don't know some of you guys very well. XD XD

(...also it was really hard to just use two words since I wanted to give, like, an in-depth paragraph of how I feel about everyone. Most of these are entirely based on vibes. You can ask me if you want clarification, and I shall do my best to answer in my own words and not emojis and random pictures and quotes. *blushes and runs away*)

@hollers-and-holmes Merry stronghold

@kraytwriter Laughing firelight

@lady-merian Joyful sunbeam

@musewrangler Excellence curator

@catkin-morgs-kookaburralover Dear one

@sheet-metal-memories Kindred spirit

@muse-write Brave friend

@informedimagining Star maker

@onewingedsparrow Truth speaker

@ladyphlogiston Warm safety

@rosie-cotton Beauty sharer

@winterinhimring Brilliance crafter

@hwestalas Tasteful artist

@swinging-stars-from-satellites Moon finder

@thewatercolours Elegant waymaker

@brb-on-a-quest Happy heartbeat

@hamiltonfairchildracingrescue Heartful artisan

@clawedandcute Discerning scribe

@audreythevaliant Hopeful perceiver

@saint-augustines-pears Bright lightfoot

@authortobenamedlater Youthful tree

@sweetcardamom Cerulean sky

@batrachised Autumn spirit

@lady-stormbraver Stalwart learner

@lightthewaybackhome Earnest harvester

@smolgreybunny Unwavering voyager

@idrilsscribe Learned crafter

@silver-letter-opener Intrepid beautifier

@blueberrybucket Shining seeker

@elessar241 Artistic conservator

@flickeringflame216 Ardent participator

@awwyeah107 Tenderhearted tender

@thegreenleavesofspring Soul sister

@paranorahjones Swift sunrise

@overthinking-with-katy Generous worker

Woooooooooooooah, that was hard. DX I didn't realise how many of you I just don't know very well. If you're weirded out by what I said, I agree, some of these were weird and took me about an hour to put into words.

To my followers: I'm so sorry, but there are 76 more of you, and I have run out of thoughts. O.O

[clockwork-ashes]

thank you @olenvasynyt for the tag! this was so fun :)

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024? 

160,904

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

if i count one-shots??? 15 fics. without them??? only 4!

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

oh goodness, i really haven’t completed any of my multi-chapter fics this year LOL i have 5 ongoing ones (that i hope will be finished in 2025).

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

my favourite thing that i wrote this year i think has to be my erisweek2024 series of one-shots!!! i put a lot of time and thought into light the fire bright and i was SO happy with the final outcome!

outsider was also one of my favourite one-shots that i wrote! it was the first one i put up on ao3 and i was just super proud of myself for putting it up there :)

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

definitely something lonesome just because of the time loop aspect!!! it’s a lot of fun, and i like it being just a little darker than everything else i’ve written!!!

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

this has got to be all you have is your fire. it’s my first attempt at writing a romance-centred fic that follows a plot, and without everyone who read it and let me know they liked it, i would have given up writing it entirely!!! i was surprised that people were reading it, and the initial reception is a huge motivation for me to continue with it <3 thank you lovely readers!!!

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

maybe prince of ashes??? that fic is old and i posted it onto ao3 really quickly just to have it up there LOL so it makes sense that it went under the radar!!!

8. Who is an artist that inspired you

so many!!! especially @works-of-heart, @velidewrites, and @elleybug!!! there’s MORE but if i’ve reblogged your work, you have 100% inspired me <3

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

i just have so many (and i’m sorry to those i forget)! definitely @zenkindoflove really inspires me with her amazing works (with elucien and also with eris x alexius). the relationships just feel SO real in your stories <3 @the-darkestminds also is just so talented, the angst in autumn’s shadow is unmatched!!! @olenvasynyt has the most amazing fic for anyone looking to read about lucien (i cannot get over your portrayal of jesminda it’s too perfect). then @separatist-apologist and @crazy-ache with their legendary elucien works!!! i feel like lots of authors inspire me, and the list will be too long if i keep going, but if i’ve ever read something, it has instantly inspired me as well!!!!

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

new to me because i still feel like i’m new around here LOL but @dusk-muse is just SO talented, and @jon-snows-man-bun has such a unique and interesting take on the hewn city (it’s perfect). @avabrynne is INSPIRATIONAL just has all the best au ideas and writes so manly wonderful fics!!! also i LOVE @missfckingfortune and @jules-writes-stories and @nocasdatsgay and @lovely-vanserra-sunshine and @cauldronblssd!!! so many amazing authors in the ACOTAR fandom!!!

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

no collaborations, but that’s mostly just because i’m very shy LOL

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

just posting anything at all is what i’m proudest of!!! it’s a big step for me, i like not being completely perceived, but just writing and reading fics and interacting with people on here and ao3 is something i’m glad i’m doing :))

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

that it’s okay to post something that isn’t perfect is probably the biggest one. it’s a huge relief to realise that the people who read what you write know that what you share with them is being done for fun!

14. Any advice you’d like to share with new or aspiring writers?

i have to really think about this one because i truly don’t know LOL my one and only piece of advice is to have fun with what you’re writing because if you are enjoying the process and having a nice time creating the story you want to tell, then that’s a success! taking a break from writing projects is okay, and taking your time with things is okay too!!! and as someone who is super shy, i always try to encourage people to just share!!! the experience has been so fun and i’ve really enjoyed writing this year :))

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

just to keep writing and to finish AT LEAST one of my wips!!! i like the idea of wrapping things up when i write, i just have trouble executing (i’m working on it tho).

no pressure tags: anyone mentioned and anyone who wants to join!!!

[keepmovinjunior]

i just wanted to talk about something (under a read more bc it is out of character)

everyone is here for their own reasons, and that's cool. i totally get that. i'm not about to tell anyone how to spend their time or operate on their own blog.

i, personally, am here for fun and that's it. i'm here to write. i'm here to ramble about fictional characters and have silly little interactions on the dash / expand on my character's relationship with your character's. my real life has its own stressors (i have a great life but obviously not everything is peachy keen and being someone who is politically informed and inclined, i want to have a safe space in which i am not interacting with that type of content that i can retreat to for my own relaxation). at the end of the day this is, as i said, playing tumblr barbies for me (and most likely for most people). it's a game and it's not that serious. in fact, it's like. not serious at all.

some people are here for community and friendships and that's totally fine. i'm not against making friends, either, and i do really like and appreciate a lot of the people i interact with often and on a daily basis, even if i don't know most of you well at all. we engage in the same hobby and we're all aliases behind a screen but i really do enjoy talking to many of you. however, at the end of the day, if i don't make friends here, that's fine, too. i'm just chilling!

having said that, i've been around for a long time and have, of course, made friendships, had relationships, gone in and out of certain blogs, etc. and this is not a hobby i think i will ever outgrow (probably will just have less time for during certain periods of my life - and most people probably will experience that). i've had falling outs, i've had moments of being uncomfortable with certain people, i have had headcanons and sometimes even some of my own graphics lifted from my blog by others of the same muse, i've even had whole ass relationships with other writers in which i was very hurt. but here's the damn thing, ok: i never, ever, not even once, had a public DNI that other people had to adhere to to write with me, tried to call someone out or incite community wide drama by dragging other unrelated people into what happened over my own personal experiences, or tried to control anyone else over it. i always understood that not everyone is going to feel the same way, or have the same experience, with another person. i understood that dealing with my feelings about the situation was on me, and it was in my own best interest to learn how to move past or live with what happened. if i felt uncomfortable with seeing that other person around, it was my own responsibility to handle my own feelings as i saw fit, and no one else needed to do that for me. this is just good philosophy toward life in general, but, as it applies to tumblr: if i couldn't handle seeing someone on this platform and co-existing in this space, i would leave, sign out, or just. literally do anything else. i knew that my own friends and my own fun is what i should focus on.

there is a feature on tumblr called filtering. you can blacklist tags and users. you can filter things that make you uncomfortable if you want to stay but don't want to see those things. you can unfollow. you can block. you can literally do anything else, and you don't owe explanations for that. or, if you can't handle it even with those things done, you can sign out and leave and invest your time in something healthier and more relaxing. this is a hobby.

by all means, have your DNIs, make your call outs (leave me out of those, though, because i guarantee you that unless this person is a sexual predator, groomer, or scam artist, i am not going to care, especially if i have no relationship with anyone else involved in said drama) and will think you're ridiculous for it. just know that the moment you start to try to control how other people operate, you will lose out on a lot of really good experiences and just make this a more miserable place for you to be.

the best healing is exposure and love and support. it's not focusing on what other people do or seeking out spaces in which you will be triggered because you enjoy being a victim.

take it from me, a 30 year old queer woman who has gone through my fair share of loss in life: it's not that serious. it's really not.

[sanjoongie]

𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔜𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

ღPairings: Park Seonghwa x Reader (f) ღGenre: pwp, smut  ღAu: Fallen Angel au, Piercer au, supernatural au ღTrope: s2l ღWord Count: 2,431 ღRating: 18+, MINORS DNI ღSynopsis: your fallen angel has done some deep dives on the internet and has come up with some fresh kinks to experiment with ღWarnings: temperature play (hot wax and ice cubes), nipple play (m), sub!hwa, dom!reader, corruption kink, pain kink, fingering (f), jerking off, hand grinding?, cum eating, seonghwa is slowly learning the bdsm scene, inexperienced! hwa, power bottom! hwa? ღDedication: @mejuii (BECAUSE YOU WON'T LET THIS AU DIE) & @downtoamagicalland my beta readers extraordinaire @smallfrye honorary suffer with ME tag. happy birthday to the man that always knows how to wreck me and STILL remain my muse Part One: Wonderlust

About to close up for the day, you almost keyboard smash your excel sheet when you saw who walked in. Seonghwa, still freshly fallen, pushed through your door once again. He was less arrogant now, sullied from his pain and pleasure tour, but looking determined.

“I need your help,” He announced.

“Hello to you too, Seonghwa. How are you? Hopefully your piercings are healing nicely. I’m fine, thank you for asking,” You said sarcastically. Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unused to your sarcasm yet. You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Nevermind, how can I help you?”

“I was going through your digital scrolls to see what other experiences I need to catch up on and I discovered there is such a thing as temperature play,” He revealed.

You blinked down at your keyboard, sure that you were about to type something but nothing was coming to mind as you absorbed Seonghwa’s words. “And you want me to help you with that? You know that I’m a piercer, right? You know there are others who could help you with that, right?” The real question was… why was he always coming back to you?

Seonghwa shook his head. “You have proven to me that you are to be trusted with this.”

Was Seonghwa… was he, as a virgin, falling for you since you showed him his first pleasure and his first pain? You rubbed your eyebrows, your tick for being stressed. “Seonghwa--”

Seonghwa, quick as lightning, gathered your hands and held them. “Please?

You carefully extracted your hands from Seonghwa’s hold. “I gotta close up.”

Seonghwa watched you avidly as you turned the lock on your door and turned off the open sign. You thanked your past self for deciding to tint your big front windows but you still grabbed Seonghwa’s wrist and pulled him into the back of your shop. 

“I must be insane for this,” You muttered to yourself, “But I’ve got ice cubes in the back.”

Seonghwa perked up. “I brought the wax! The shopkeeper said this color would look nice against my skin!”

You winced. He even came prepared? You spun around and banged into Seonghwa’s chest. “Careful, Human,” He murmured as he steadied you.

You ducked out of his grasp once again and moved towards the mini fridge where you kept your lunch and some ice cubes for the pain in case your customers needed some relief. Seonghwa slid up behind you and cupped your hand holding the tray. “Human,” He purred in your ear.

You turned in his grasp with the tray. “You need to go sit on a chair,” You instructed, refusing to look at Seonghwa.

“You are playing a game but I don’t know the rules,” Seonghwa murmured.

You cleared your throat. “I’m doing no such thing. You asked for this and I’m preparing. What more do you want from me?”

Seonghwa tipped your head back with one of his long, pretty fingers. “You could start by looking at me like you did when you spat on my cock.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Stop that.”

Seonghwa sighed. “I’m a fallen angel and I’m dealing with the sin part better than you.”

You knocked his hands off of you. “Go. Sit. In. The. Chair!”

Seonghwa smiled like he still somehow got what he wanted but did as you bid. Today he was wearing a diaphanous, see-through shirt but a pull over with a hood. He pulled it off by grabbing behind his back and then his entire upper body was available for your eyes. You couldn't help but zero in on his nipples. Instead of the simple barbells you had pierced him with, he now had a pair of matching barbed wire piercings that hung like hoops. They looked heavy and they slightly pulled at his nipples, which you were sure was the point, for Seonghwa at least. 

“Do you like them?” Seonghwa looked up at you as you sat down on the stool beside the piercer chair. 

“They’re lovely, Seonghwa,” You murmured, putting down the ice cube tray where normally your piercing gun would go. 

Seonghwa preened under your praise. “Do you want to play with them?”

You choked and scoffed and made all kinds of noises that were only making Seonghwa’s grin grow wider. “No, I do not want to play with them--are we doing this temperature play or not?” You huffed.

“First, I have read that we must negotiate what happens during the scene,” Seonghwa revealed. He really had been reading stuff on the internet. He pulled the container that would melt the wax and the cubes that he had bought. 

“What would you like to negotiate, Mister Fallen Angel, sir?” You said sarcastically.

It went over Seonghwa’s head again. “Secondly, I would prefer if you received some pleasure along with mine.”

You dropped the container that would melt the wax onto Seonghwa’s stomach and he made a small ‘oof’ noise as the weight hit him. You quickly gathered it off of him and grabbed the lighter he offered next and put those on the table with the ice cubes. “This isn’t about me, Seonghwa. You want the experience and you said you trust me.”

Seonghwa sat up straighter in your chair and aimed a very heavy gaze your way. “I wish to negotiate more.”

“Well, negotiate all you like,” You said flippantly, “I’ve already stated no.”

“Why do you deny yourself pleasure when I offer it freely?” Seonghwa wondered. “Is this not how this works? Did I read the scrolls wrong?”

You rubbed your eyebrow again and sighed. After your first time with Seonghwa--after his piercings--in which you fucked Seonghwa on your piercer chair, you had felt an immense weight of guilt. Everything Seonghwa had done with enthusiasm but it still didn’t feel right to steal away a fallen angel’s innocence. You felt… bad about it since. And you had vowed you would never let it happen again.

“No, you did not read the scrolls wrong, Seonghwa. You’re fine,” You assured him.

“Then? Tell me what I am doing incorrectly? Is it not right and fair to exchange pleasure? Should I not give as much as I take?” Seonghwa rocked backwards like he was physically hit with a thought. “Am I not what you prefer? I cannot help that I am inexperienced but I am trying to learn!”

Oh, this was going downhill quickly and you had to stop it. “Seonghwa,” You said his name softly this time. “Hush.”

The angel snapped his mouth shut but his eyes would not leave your face. “What can I do?”

“Small steps, okay?” You pleaded with him. 

You watched as the wheel’s in his head turned, trying to make a reality of what you wanted. “Could you ride my fingers while you apply the hot and cold? Are those small steps?”

You shuddered at his words. “Jesus,” You muttered under your breath. “Seonghwa--”

The angel had a habit of cutting you off before you could say what you wanted to. He leaned forward and his lips smashed against yours. He cupped the back of your head as he kissed you, passionate and eager. When he was done, he pressed his forehead against yours, already panting. “I wish for more experiences but I wish for more of you.”

You pushed back with your hands on his chest. “Haven’t I sullied you enough?”

"Flower," Seonghwa leaned forward and brushed your lily tattoo on your inner wrist, "You honor me but I am no longer an angel."

"I know," You admitted, "But--!"

"Please. Take pleasure from me while we perform this temperature play. It is what I wish for the most on this day," Seonghwa said solemnly.

You caved. You had no more excuses. You wanted this, in your heart of hearts, and you couldn't say no to him any longer. You cracked an ice cube into your palm and straddled Seonghwa on the piercing chair. “Anything else?” You asked. 

“I…” Seonghwa swallowed, “Don’t be gentle with me. I like when you were rough with me like the first time.”

“Fucking hell, Seonghwa,” You cursed.

Without further ado, you leaned in and braced yourself against his chest, applying the melting ice cube to his nipple. Seonghwa’s breath hitched and he began to nibble on his bottom lip. His eyes followed your hand as it touched his other nipple and he whimpered. 

“Feels good?” You wondered.

“G-good,” He confirmed with a stutter.

You watched as the melted water ran down his chest, his nipples pert and looking good enough to nibble on. You leaned in and captured one nipple in your mouth and continued to rub the other nipple with the ice cube. Seonghwa let out a needy moan and you felt your pussy throb in response. So you carefully captured the hoop behind your teeth and pulled gently and Seonghwa almost threw you off the chair with his reaction, his arms catching you before you fell.

You began to rub the ice cube over his body and followed the trail of water with your tongue. You could feel how hard Seonghwa was under you so you began to unbutton his pants but he stopped you. "The wax. Next. Before you give me release. Please."

“You’re awfully demanding for someone who is supposed to have put me in charge,” You grumbled but did as he asked.

The clerk had been right, the gold against Seonghwa’s skin was simply lovely. But the better part of that deal was the slow satisfied smirk whenever the hot wax dribbled on his skin. Seonghwa let out groaning laughter, making your lower half clench down on nothing. 

“Flower,” Seonghwa whined and you knew it was time for the other other part he had been asking for. “Are we still taking small steps?” He wondered as you stood up from straddling him, putting down all the toys and moving to pop the button of your pants. 

Before you could stop yourself, you removed your pants and underwear and moved back onto the chair. You grabbed Seonghwa’s wrist and brought his fingers to your mouth so you could suck on them. 

Seonghwa really did look like a fallen angel that you had taken advantage of: the golden waxed remained frozen in time, permanently dripping along his pecs and abs. Sweat clung to his hairline, his lips were red from all the biting down on them he had been doing, and his eyes were big and curious, solely on you. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” You murmured, avoiding his gaze now.

“Like what?” Seonghwa wondered. 

“Like I’m the one that hangs the star’s in the sky,” You grumbled. 

You maneuvered Seonghwa’s hand to lie against his thigh and he crooked them so you could sit on them. When the pads ran over your wetness, you shivered. Seonghwa’s eyes wouldn’t stop swinging from looking at your face to looking at his fingers brushing your wet folds. The next step was to pull down his pants and you sent him a look.

“Does it displease you that I do not wear underwear to our appointments?” Seonghwa asked, fingers moving along your folds delicately.

“An appointment would suggest you booked it ahead of time,” You said through gritted teeth. 

You leaned over to grab another ice cube, allowing some embers of your anger to fuel your movements. You pulled back his foreskin and ran the ice cube along the tip of his cock. Seonghwa tensed but let out a long moan. His fingers plunged further inside of you and you moaned along with him. 

Soon, it became a game of torture. You would jerk Seonghwa off, teasing the ice cube over the tip of his cock every once and a while. Seonghwa, in retaliation, finger fucked you as you grinded down on his fingers. You weren’t really paying attention to your own pleasure but Seonghwa sure was. He practically fought the intense pleasure you were giving him, resisting the urge to close his eyes and drink in the moment, studying every jerk of your hips and cries in an attempt to give back to you what you have given to him. 

You made him come first, however. His cum spurted over your hand and added to the wax along his skin on his torso. Seonghwa’s face almost contorted in pain but you had come to learn that was just his come face. His entire body relaxed against the chair but his eyes were on you once again. 

“Flower,” he called out weakly.

With your clean hand, you pushed his hair out of his face, borderline fondly tucking it behind his ear. “It’s okay, Seonghwa.”

“You always take care of me,” Seonghwa said as you scooped up some of his cum with your fingers.

You sucked on them gratuitously and hummed. “It’s not like I’m coming to your place of work and asking you to take care of my newfound needs.”

Seonghwa cocked his head. “Could you?”

You coughed and made to stand up but Seonghwa’s hand gripped your thigh to stop you. “Don’t go.” And to encourage you to stay where you were, his fingers began to move again against you. 

Seonghwa had discovered that he could brush your clit with his thumb and make a come hither motion with his two fingers inside of you and you gently collapsed against him, your forehead on his shoulder, keeping yourself off of his cum and wax stained upper body. You closed your eyes and began to keen into his bronze skin, allowing the pleasure to steal you away.

“Fuck, Seonghwa, just like that, keep going, i’m going to--oh god--yes yes YES!” You climaxed with a high pitched cry that slowly devolved into whimpers as you came down from your high. Now you were the one breathing and panting and trying to recuperate. 

“Flower?” Seonghwa rubbed your thigh to get your attention. 

“I just--need a minut--oh god!” You cursed again as he pulled his fingers out of you.

You moved your head slightly to watch as Seonghwa did as you had, putting his fingers in his mouth and cleaning them of your wetness. His eyes widened in surprise and he made a noise similar to as if he was eating a sweet. 

“Can you stop being so delicious?” You whined, trying to gather some energy to get off of Seonghwa. 

“I read there was pleasure in eating a pussy but I didn’t--” He exclaimed as you hit him. “What did I do?”

“Damn fallen angel,” You opted to grumble instead. He really was going to be the death of you.

Tag list: @hijirikaww @mingsolo @starlitmark @stardragongalaxy @k-pop-ology @pyeonghongrie-main

[huellitaa]

navigation 🎀🐈‍⬛️ . ݁₊ ⊹

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #thoughts ୨𖹭୧

ramblings, musings, ideas, thoughts and love notes all from the mind of yours truly. whether this is a good or bad thing, only time (or my digital footprint) will tell. ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #it girlism ୨𖹭୧

for the girls who want to become the prettiest, smartest, most rich and successful versions of themselves ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #now playing... ୨𖹭୧

my sole defining characteristic and only personality trait; music! ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #bee's diaries ୨𖹭୧

snippets, selfies and snapshots from the life of yours truly! ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #tubatu ୨𖹭୧

tomorrow x together; my ults and my favs of all time !! (aka, i post so much about them i had to give them their own tag. ♡)

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #asks ୨𖹭୧

ask and you shall receive! send me love letters and notes and asks and i'll get back to u with a smile and hearts ily n thank you ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #girl gang ୨𖹭୧

my beloved mutuals! includes all from tag games to discord chats that are so incredibly chaotic i feel they need sharing ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #academic angel ୨𖹭୧

all that revolves around my school life, pink academia, and the pretty pink high school girl life ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #fashion icon ୨𖹭୧

as an aspiring fashion journalist and designer i feel it is absolutely necessary to have a fashion tag! ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #blossoming ୨𖹭୧

followers, announcements and events; the growth of my silly little girlblog ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #mood boardz ୨𖹭୧

moodboards from both me and my favs ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #the law ୨𖹭୧

law of assumption, manifestation, and all that lies in between ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #pretty pretty pretty ୨𖹭୧

cute things and people i'm adding to my list to rob borrow from ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #made by bee ୨𖹭୧

things i make and original creations! ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #4 later ୨𖹭୧

posts and sweet things i'd like to save for me and for you ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #announcements ୨𖹭୧

little community posts just to keep u all updated on things ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 #princess project ୨𖹭୧

sparkling summer sunshine productivity and beauty challenge and learning how to enjoy my summers to the best i can ♡

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sharing my autumn w u guys ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 winter wonderland ୨𖹭୧

winter and christmas diaries ♡

[kingconia]

I saw the Neuvillete one and I come bearing a different Fontaine Character!

So how would the following react to an MC with personality traits of Navia?

Rook Hunt (Romantic)

Idia Shroud (Platonic)

Professor Trein or Professor Crewel (Mentor) (Your choice as to which professor to write)

Please and thank you!

ROOK HUNT, IDIA SHROUD AND PROFESSOR TREIN WITH FEM!MC, WHO IS LIKE NAVIA FROM GENSHIN IMPACT

Rook Hunt; romantic. 💜

— I have a feeling him and you will be a lot like Navia and Clorinde dynamic, but slightly a more teasing one;

— You play your own very strange little games, in which Rook follows you everywhere, trying to stay unnoticed, and you suddenly disappear from his view as soon as he relaxes, leaving funny notes and roses after yourself. Moriarty meets Moriarty;

— You find a common tongue quite quickly, and it is not only about french! You both are undeniably loud, cheerful, strange in eyes of others, and, oh! You like unsightly hats!

— I feel like students feel strangely uncomfortable around both of you as you speak nonsense—for others it seems this way, at least—or genuinely act very unhinged. And your flirting? It the worst!

•

”Y/n, l'amour de ma vie, where are you?” Rook hums thoughtfully, narrowed eyes scanning the bedroom where he just heard your voice a few minutes ago. ”Y/n?”

But the room is empty now, and the only thing that catches his attention is one of your fancy hats being left on the bedside. Clearly, intentionally.

Rook wastes no time in raising it in the air. As he expects, there is a note and a breathtaking violet rose under it, just waiting to be found by him.

’Catch me if you can, mon petit gâteau!~

P.S: I found this ethereal little thing this morning, when I was having my daily walk with Riddle R. It was obscured by others, more pompous ones, shyly peeking out from the bush. Others was blind to it, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from this flower. It reminded me of you, and so I painted it violet to this resemblance being even more obvious.

— With love from the one, who would poison you, if you were by husband.’

A laugh that escapes his lips is ever cheerful as Rook swirls the rose between his fingers, noticing only now that to addition to everything it is thornless; a clear evidence of the work of yours.

Quickly, he takes off his hat, leaving it behind, putting yours on his head instead.

”Well-well, Y/n... The one, who would drink your poison if he was your husband, is coming. Beware.”

Ah! What a perfect match you are!

Idia Shroud; platonic. 💙

— I genuinely believe he doesn't understand how such a loud and extraverted person, managed to befriend him. But you did, somehow, so congratulations? Or condolences. He is not sure, who suffers the most out of two of you, yet.

— I also feel like you intentionally pretended to needing him for some work or project, just to get closer and befriend him, but Idia thinks it was an accidental, lmao;

— He is so happy, when you tell him, that though you never played games before, you are willing to learn how to play his videogames, so he wouldn't feel so lonely;

— And in return for your kindness, Idia agrees to spend time with you on your weekly shopping sessions! Ah, sweet summer child... If he only knew!

•

Idia groans, hiding his face in his palms as he hears your quiet musings behind the door of the changing cabin. It is some silly french song, but in given circumstances, it is a lot like a dead march for him.

When you first told him about shopping sessions, Idia seemed surprised why would anyone waste time on something like this, when online shops literally existed. But, nevertheless, he tagged along with you. Because he is a good friend.

And at first, everything seemed fine. Yes, of course, you chose a very questionable and flushy clothes that looked as if someone pressed a ’random character design’ button, but... At least, you was quick! A few minutes here and there, and you finished with each shop effortlessly.

Until you saw a shop with hats. That is where everything started to crumble.

You spent fifty minutes only on staring at different hats, touching and checking their material, and carefully analysing every part of it as if it was a peace of art. And then, you spent even more on trying them on by one one, with different bought outfits from before! And it is not even going to end soon!

”So,” you ask, while opening the door of your cabin. ”How does it look, Idia?”

He has no idea! All of these hats look similar to him: too bright, too much, too pointy. What are you, a witch from nineties?!

”Cool,” he answers, offering you an awkward smile, not willing to he honest in this one.

You sigh.

”I don't kno-ow... Something is off.”

You have been telling the same thing over and over again. At this time, Idia wants to say that your style is off in general.

”Everything is very cool, I don't know.” He repeats, shrugging.

Please, let it work, please—

”Let me try another one,” you click your tongue, before disappearing again.

Idia wishes he could die.

Ah, the things he is doing for his best friend...

Professor Train; mentorship. 🤎

— He is a proud father of a few daughters canonically, so as soon as he sees you as one, you are instantly becoming his favourite student off all the time;

— But truth to be told, you really make his life as a teacher easy. It is often that students ignore his subject, calling it boring and the most uninteresting one, so when you start to ask him questions during the lessons, considering the topic of it, he is pleasantly surprised;

— And, oh, Lucifer loves you! When this cat jumps off his arms, to hide on your lap, professor Trein is absolutely... Shocked. That is unusual for his cat, but it is undeniable now: you are a trusted face;

— You are such a diligent and quiet student on his lessons that he is genuinely surprised, when he overhears that you had been a real troublemaker on other lessons! What do you mean Crewel hates you for criticism of his looks? Had you really broke your broom on Vargas's lesson?..

•

Mozus realises that it is you, who knocks on his door, when Lucifer starts meowing quietly, trying to catch his attention by scratching the fabric of his pants.

”Yes, Y/n?” He calls for you, allowing himself to take a quick break of checking everyone's homework.

You peek from the opened door, eyes slightly wide.

”How did you...”

But the question never leaves your lips, and instead you march in with a big pile of old books in your hands.

”Good morning, professor Trein!”

He gestures you to come closer with his hand, that is not busy with stroking the cat's fur. As you do, he examines you again, remembering his conversation with headmaster Crowley he had this morning.

It is so hard to believe that he described you as ’a smart, yet worthy of getting expelled’ student! Professor Trein can't understand how would anyone say something so deceiving about you.

”Good morning. How can I help you?”

You put books in front of him with a loud thud, gasping for air, clearly tired of carrying it around. Smiling widely, you gesture at them.

”Professor Trein, do you remember how you said that it is unclear what happened in the history Shaftlands between 13th century, after the revolution?” He nods, and you puff out your chest proudly. ”I called my uncle, and look at what I found in our family library! Here it is, the secret information!”

It is his turn to look astonished now. Had you really gone for all these troubles because of the small note he muttered near the end of his lesson?

”So, I brought it to you, thinking that you will be interested, maybe?”

...No, there is no actual way someone sees you as a rude girl! You are the best students he had in centuries. He actually will leave this working place if someone ever tries to get you expelled.

”...Ah, thank you. That is very nice of you.”

You lean closer automatically, and he pats you head as a reward; a very common thing you bribe out of him for good studies.

Lucifer uses this opportunity to jump on you as you laugh, catching the cat hastily, clearly being ready for such an unexpected attack.

Mozus smiles shortly, watching you dancing around the class with Lucifer in your hands, and then, checks the books on his table again.

...Ah, perhaps, being a teacher is not that bad, after all.

[winchesterszvonecek]

Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Girl Talk: Otis misinterprets your girl talk with Shay and Dawson

Third Date: After your third date with Brian, you finally decide to introduce him to your baby daughter and things couldn’t have gone more perfect

The Zoo: After introducing Brian to your baby girl, he joins the two of you on your daughters first trip to the zoo

Closing Time: 18+ Leaving your phone at Molly’s leads to a surprising turn of events

Runaway Bride: Brian can’t let you get married without telling you how he feels

Insecure: Otis feels insecure in his relationship with you every time he’s reminded that your ex boyfriend is Lieutenant Kelly Severide

It Made Me Think of You: Otis gives you a gift that made him think of you as a way to finally confess his feelings for you

Headache: Otis takes care of you when you get a headache

Dressing Room: Your shopping trip changes for the better when you bump into a rather cute firefighter in the dressing

Pool Table: You and Otis bet against each other during a game of pool

Laser Tag: Cruz gets fed up when you and Otis keep making out during laser tag

Stood Up: After getting stood up on your date, you find yourself bumping into some much better company

Morning After: You wake up next to Brian for the first time

Come to Bed: You try and get Brian to come to bed

Big Hug Mug: You accidentally break Otis’s favourite mug and his reaction was not at all what you expected it to be

First Christmas: Your first proper Christmas with Brian becomes that much more special when he asks you that one magical question

The Gala: You and Brian attend the CFD gala together where things quickly turn from boring to steamy 18+

“Fine, you can use me as a pillow.”

“You take me so well.” 18+

“I wish you would just look at me for two seconds.”

Things you said at 1am.

“Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, okay? I want to make you feel as good as possible.” “O-Okay.” 18+

“Okay, but I think we should do that again. For research purpose. For humanity.”

For one muse to take the other from behind. 18+

Cliché

Trouble

“If you don’t turn off that stupid video game and have sex with me, I’m gonna masturbate right here.” + “Show me how you pleasure yourself.” 18+

Surprise

Bonfire

“Damn you look good on your knees.” + “You taste so good.” 18+

Gift

No one’s ever done this for me before

“Now everyone knows you’re off limits.”

“Do you want my fingers?” 18+

Sharing ice-cream

“You know, I talk to a lot of people every single day. I hear all their voices telling me all kinds of stuff; I hear it all. And the only voice I really wanna listen to is yours, you know? Even when you’re driving me crazy. So come on. Please… Just drive me crazy again?”

To take a hot bath with my muse 18+

“Aren’t you afraid of getting seen with me?”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” + “Don’t act so shy now.” + “Stop, you’re making me blush in public.”

“My muscles are aching.” “They weren’t aching last night when we were…” “Shut up, that’s exactly the reason why they are aching right now.”

“Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

How He’d React:

To you asking him out on a date rather than the other way round

To finding out you hadn’t seen his favourite movie/TV show

To you wearing his clothes

Play Pretend: You ask Otis to attend your family reunion with you on one condition… that he pretends to be your boyfriend. complete - ao3 link

Original Character (ao3):

To Hell and Back: Chicago Fire x Supernatural crossover - In which Otis comes to learn about what’s truly out there when he finds himself falling for a Winchester on hold

One Night Stand: In which after a drunken one night stand, Otis makes it his mission to track down the woman who he can’t seem to forget. complete ✔️

City of Smoke: In which a new paramedic has a rocky start at firehouse fifty-one, but after working her way into the hearts of those in the house, she soon finds she’d worked her way into one of their hearts just a little too much. complete ✔️

A Slow Burn: In which a new truck member catches the eyes, and the heart, of fifty-one’s very own Otis. complete ✔️

Like Otis? Apply to his tag list so you don’t miss out on his works!

Like my work? Consider buying me a coffee!

[stillsolo]

🚩🚩

send me a 🚩 and i’ll share my unpopular rpc opinions and hot takes.  bonus points if you include a specific topic to talk about, like follower count, softblocking, graphics, etc.

wow, okay!  this took me a lot longer to answer than i would’ve thought. nobody sent in topics ( which is okay! ) but without direction, my laidback attitude about everything ended up hurting me in the long run lmfao   but now i’m here!!  better late than never, eh?  tagging others who also sent in something, mainly because i’ve realized i’m chill and got nothing more to say than this it seems  @fifthdimensicn @lightburnsyou @techniiciian ( thank you for sending something!! )

i’ll preface this by saying i have nothing against anyone.   i am just a massive childhood star wars nerd, who basically learned english through the canon/legends movies, games, books, and writing fanfic etc.   so, i’m rather well read on star wars and have a tendency to be uhhh. autistic lol  stringent, for want of a better word, about the universe lore.   overall, i don’t care whether or not people agree; this is just a topic i lowkey struggle to understand yet see far too often.   why people willingly step into this paradox is beyond me!

anyway, if your muse is canonically a force-null in star wars, yet you create a serious, fleshed-out jedi verse for them, then i can’t help but think you don’t actually love your muse as much as you think you do.

of course, you’re totally allowed to have fun—i am not against fun; i’m actually all for breaking and bending verses to my will—and i understand getting bored with the same verses you’ve played in for years and years.   but when this reinterpretation becomes a serious endeavor—like, you’re really out here recontextualizing the entirety of star wars, including its characters, regardless of how ooc it would be to do so, just to fit this verse??   that’s where you lose me lol

for clarity: force nulls are simply people who are not outwardly force-sensitive, aka an individual who cannot consciously sense or interact with the force.   so, think han solo, padmé amidala, or even captain rex and the clones etc.   these are people who stand tall without the force, relying instead on their resourcefulness, resilience, and humanity.

i know the arguments.    i’m well aware some would argue that han and padmé could be considered “lowkey force-sensitive” in their own way, and i’m actually very inclined to agree—to a point.   these two do exhibit qualities that some might attribute to a higher-than-average midichlorian count: padmé’s marksmanship and her negotiation skills; han’s brilliant piloting and uncanny luck that often defies logic.   but yeah, that’s also the whole damn point—they’re exceptional because they lack the force, not in spite of it.

here, lemme use padmé as my primary example because i already know the concept of han being a jedi sounds absolutely absurd lol ( or at least it should if you know him at all 💀 )

let’s imagine a world where padmé is suddenly a jedi, wielding the force with all the grace of a trained knight.   it’s a pretty popular verse i’ve mostly seen outside of rp—and it’s utterly baffling to me.   sure, it’s an interesting twist, but it’s also a strange one.   why?  well, in my honest opinion: in making padmé overtly force-sensitive, you strip away everything that makes her outstanding.

she is extraordinary precisely because she isn’t outwardly force sensitive.  her ability to connect with people, her unparalleled empathy, and her deftness at negotiation are what sets her apart.  outward force sensitivity would rob her of these defining traits and generally diminishes her skillset—because the ability to sense emotions, to read others with an almost prescient understanding—is not a unique power, but rather one of the many force-given gifts jedi possess.  if padmé could sense others’ thoughts, how would her talents at diplomacy and empathy stand out?  just like that, what once set her apart would be merely an extension of the jedi arsenal.

the same applies to han!  this is why i’ve never written a force-sensitive han solo and likely never will.   his disbelief and distrust in anything he can’t see or feel for himself is paramount to his disposition / mentality as a character.   in the movies, he’s your taste of hard cynicism; he’s introduced as a reality check right after luke and ben’s floaty nonsense about the force.   ya feel me?   han solo is remarkable not because he’s imbued with mystical powers, but because he doesn’t have them.   he survives, thrives, and outsmarts the galaxy without supernatural powers to lean on.   to make han force-sensitive would be to strip away the very core of his character.

all in all, these characters, these force nulls, are extraordinary because they don’t rely on the force.   they are exceptional in spite of it, and i don’t really understand why anyone would make a concerted effort to take that away from them.