#a blog is a place for you to express yourself and share things that you like

[almostempty]

it’s not that deep but it is that serious!

(editing and reblogging to clarify a couple things at the end of the post - edited once more to combine the second reblog into one)

I just want to come to this app to talk about deep throating mean!Joel and to make friends with other hot freaks. But I need my fellow heathens to hear me out for a moment.

I’ve tried to keep this space a little escape from reality, but that’s not a realistic privilege because life and art are inherently political.

I've seen friends and mutuals receiving hateful, racist, and cruel anons recently. I know these issues aren’t new for our Black and brown peers.

I see a lot of folks jumping to offer support and to express their disgust at the racist remarks.

I also see a lot of shock and disbelief and I want to talk about that.

Racism, bigotry, and prejudice are not new issues for Black and brown folks. If you find yourself shocked, surprised, and outraged when folks share the hate they receive I ask that you reflect on this. It’s a privilege to be surprised, to not be used to navigating and experiencing that vitriol.

I know it’s well intended when folks say things like, ‘if you’re a racist piece of shit get off my blog’ or similar messages, and i understand the anger and frustration. (*i appreciate seeing solidarity and i also do not want to police (acab) how people respond to the hate they receive)

I also don’t think anyone who is aware and actively spreading hate will be deterred. I imagine there are 4chan incel type trolls that just thrive on the attention and reaction of using the most inflammatory language they can, and trolls will troll. They inevitably will pop up.

What I want to address is the levels below the overt and active hate. The accidental or inadvertent covert racism. The micro aggressions. The passive silence or enabling of rhetoric that lets folks perpetuate harm without even thinking.

Black and brown creators in our community have been disregarded or overshadowed when they speak up about diversity or inclusion in this fandom or feeling unwelcomed.

They wade through oceans of moodboards with faceless, thin, white women paired with our favorite characters. They power through reader inserts with freckles, red marks, and pink pussies that say and do things they might never feel safe saying or doing in those universes. They scroll through bad Spanish or fetishized latino caricatures and romanticized colonial values. And they still show love and support by commenting and reblogging and uplifting other writers.

Maybe there are footnotes about the moodboards only being for inspiration, but that doesn’t erase the constant messaging that it was easier to find those pictures and add a note than to search harder or leave the pictures out.

When I saw a fic with a detail about the pedro character having a confederate flag in his trailer I had to pause. This is a perfect example. I don’t read this as malicious or intentionally harmful. I understand the stereotype it’s rooted in and the general humor of the story as a whole. I get that it’s a small detail and that racism wasn’t a core part of the character or the story.

But if we sit with this longer.. what does this tell our Black and brown peers? When the reader notices it and it’s just as notable as a calendar on the wall? And she fucks him willingly anyway?

Hate symbols aren’t unserious. Background or not. Imagine writing a Joel fic and giving him a swastika tattoo just as a background detail. Sounds extreme right? Maybe you’re writing an AU felon Joel and just trying to show how hardened and dark he is. Maybe in your headcanon he only got it in prison to protect himself and he isn’t a racist.

But to nazis it says this is a safe place to be. To the general audience it says you don’t care if this makes them feel unsafe or invisible.

To folks reading that a confederate flag isn’t a big deal, it signals that it’s an acceptable symbol. It shows that people are reading and commenting and sharing this story and are unbothered. That maybe people don’t even notice.

I’m not asking anyone to send hate and I’m not writing this as an attack on the author or anyone who shared the fic. We don’t know what we don’t know, but we have the opportunity to learn!

I am asking my peers to step in and step up, because I think y’all are smart and capable of more.

I am not an expert on anything. But as someone who went to grad school for social work — a field that only exists to combat the societal harm of power, privilege, and oppression — I don’t take it lightly. I work in advocacy fighting discrimination and prejudice from institutions built on systemic racism daily. I’m aware that I have the privilege of training, language, and awareness around diversity and inclusion, and that not everyone has the same knowledge or experience.

I also know this fandom is full of incredibly smart and well spoken folks who craft moving stories and analyze characters with nuance and passion.

I’m not interested in censoring what anyone writes and I happily abide by don’t like; don’t read.

If I only wanted to read I would stick to ao3. But I’m here and I stay here because of the community. The friendships and the extra tag games and challenges and support and camaraderie.

I know I make mistakes myself. And I know it can be uncomfortable to be called out for something you never intended to hurt anyone with. I know it can feel like your voice won’t be heard or your experience won’t be validated in such a big space.

I shared a post a while ago by a creator that doesn’t write for this fandom. It was an ode to Black fanfic writers in general, and in the comments Black writers were tagging each other to show love. And I knew there was something wrong when I wanted to share it but felt deeply hesitant about tagging anyone because I didn’t want Black writers to receive hate.

One of my favorite things about this fandom is how global it is. Getting to make friends with folks around the world is such a treat. I also know racism and fascism are not unique to one region.

It’s Black history month in the states and in Canada. I know other countries observe Black history month in other months. It’s an intentional observation for a reason.

For us, this is a hobby. We’re here voluntarily, and mostly anonymously, but we’re all people. Community is so vital to thwarting the dangers of fascism and hateful rhetoric.

This IS a post about racism.

But racism is absolutely entangled with sexism, classism, ableism, ethnocentrism, capitalism, colonialism, imperialism, patriarchal hegemony, etc.

This isn’t just a rant. It’s an ask. I’m asking my peers—writers, readers, gif makers, lurkers, etc.— to help.

Reflect on what you share and post. Think about how others perceive you.

I’m asking my peers to be curious and open to discussions. To ask questions if you see covert racism. To be willing to accept feedback.

We can be gentle with one another.

Like, ‘hey, I saw this and am wondering if you’re aware of the origin or the impact it might have?’ or ‘can I share how this may be misinterpreted or harmful?’

Be kind sure, but be an advocate!

If you see someone posting about a character being their ‘spirit animal’ — send them a DM! If you read something that stereotypes a race, let the author know! There’s plenty of online resources for writing characters from other races without falling back on harmful tropes.

And even better… support your Black and brown peers. Share their work. Show them you value their presence in the fandom.

I encourage folks to read fics with original characters or reader characters with explicitly diverse ethnicities and tell the author you appreciate that character! Recommend the work to friends.

I never shut up about how much I love Heat and the story is incredibly compelling *because* the reader is a Latina written by a Latina.

Anyway, I come to this hellsite to laugh and be horny—but at my core I am an ethical hater and I only wrote all of this because I care and I want this space to be inclusive.

I’m not speaking on behalf of anyone else and I don’t want to speak over anyone. I’m open to feedback or ideas.

I’m tagging some mutuals I interact with and some that I don’t know very well, not to curse y’all with reading my long winded post but to ask: when you have the capacity will you help take action to make this community stronger? Will you commit to being open to feedback and growth?

Bottom line I just wanna read about getting railed by that fictional guy and I want my Black and brown peers to have the opportunity to enjoy the same escape from reality.

I feel like this is worth posting because I think y’all can make a difference. So many of y’all write and analyze stories and characters with such nuance and passion and detail—and that’s why i believe you can help spot subtle and insidious forms of racism and make real changes.

TL;DR: I’m asking everyone to be proactive when you see microaggressions or covert racism in the fandom, and to be willing to accept feedback and learn from each other. Being passive is a luxury and a privilege our marginalized peers do not have. Let’s be more than performative or not racist. Be active. Be anti-racist.

some tags for folks (no pressure to share, I don’t want attention I just want to encourage folks to take time to reflect or let me know what you think idk): *not calling anyone out as having committed any offenses just feeling compelled to share the message i guess

@auteurdelabre @joelmillerisapunk @lotusbxtch @probablyreadinsmut @ace-turned-confused @baronessvonglitter @yxtkiwiyxt @slimybeth69 @bitchesuntitled @thundermartini @sin-djarin @strang3lov3 @mermaidgirl30 @for-a-longlongtime @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @evolnoomym @wannab-urs @sanarsi @yopossum @almostfoxglove @itwasntimethatdidit40 @syd-djarin @miss-oranje-disco-dancer

to anyone: please start conversations or reach out to me or send me an anon ask if you want to discuss something or share, idc but i’m begging y’all to listen to each other and advocate for one another and be open to self-reflection 💗 editing to add: if i tagged you it was not a callout that i think you've done something specific to reflect on-- just a general invite to join me in being intentional and to invite feedback if you have any! if i made anyone anxious i apologize! - to clarify when i said 'it's not that deep' i mean that maybe fanfic is easily brushed off as not that deep, but every blog is a real person (minus the army of porn bots) and we form real connections in this community <3

edit:

one more thing, 

first and foremost! a reminder that i am speaking about the inclusivity in this fandom as a whole. i don't want to lose the plot over one specific example that blew up. my point is the bulk of the racism in this fandom is perpetrated through micro aggressions and covert racism EVERY DAY. we can make sweeping statements and tell racists to fuck off, but next week we will be back to the status quo (aka where many non-white folks feel unwelcomed, aren't represented, and are disregarded when they raise concerns, etc.) unless we commit to examining ourselves first and looking for the more subtle things that perpetuate the current culture (e.g. harmful stereotypes and racial tropes, fetishizing latinx characters, bad Spanish, writing reader insert fics with specifically white features and characteristics without tagging, using slurs or coded language, etc.)

(i am behind on everything today and haven’t gotten back to everyone who added insightful thoughts and considerations to my original post yet) 

i did see some folks share examples of positive experiences calling-in peers or learning something new themselves and wanted to say thanks and highlight those positives. 

maybe other folks have already brought up the rest of my points and if so i do not mean to speak over anyone, but i wanted to add on to my first post: 

i originally asked everyone to step up and commit to advocating for each other— but i’d like to explicitly ask white folks to step up and look out for our Black and brown friends (who are tired and don’t get to check out irl or online). i am asking white folks to be open to learning and growing with compassion. i am asking white folks to be persistent, proactive, and brave enough to be uncomfortable or wrong. 

when i say we can be gentle with each other i do not mean to minimize pain or anger. i gladly and willingly validate that everyone has a right to be upset and outraged by hatred and racism. i am not asking my Black and brown peers to soften their reactions or dismiss their experiences.

i am (again) asking my white peers to be mindful, to take a breath and listen to what BIPOC folks have to say. to sit with the discomfort and know that seeing hate or racism might be shocking but it is not surprising if you’ve been listening. 

i am asking my white peers to be kind and also strategic. if you have the patience and capacity then do what you can to increase the odds that your peers will be willing to listen and learn. it’s free to try at least. 

most of us that commit micro aggressions or covert racism don't consider ourselves to be racists. we see posts that say 'racists and bigots aren't welcome on this blog' and we agree! we reblog those posts! we pat ourselves on the back for being an ally and continue on without making any other changes-- not because we are bad people, but because we have the privilege of feeling welcomed, represented, and valued as a baseline.

this is also my call-in to myself because i’ve allowed myself to stay quiet. i’ve relied on the comfort that my close friends know who i am and what my values are, but i have been passive. i have seen comments or posts that i recognized were ignorant or offensive and continued scrolling. i felt like it wasn't worth the drama to speak up.

i’m fallible and open to feedback ! i am also comfortable being an example, being vulnerable and sharing my mistakes or opportunities for growth. i've gotten more comfortable because i have hours of training and practice but i don't expect others to feel good being called-in or to anticipate what might make them act defensively.

i know the core principle of cultural humility is that nobody is an expert on culture, that the best practice is to remain open and curious, to identify your own values and beliefs, and to confront stereotypes. it is an ongoing process of self-reflection and commitment to growth 

and so i volunteer to be here for any of my white friends that want to make this fandom a more inclusive space, but are feeling uncertain or uncomfortable. (i am not offering to defend racism or excuse hate)

there is extreme cognitive dissonance in believing you are a good person, a not-racist person, and a friend and ally— and being confronted with the idea you are perpetuating stereotypes, inadvertently causing harm, or alienating folks you care about. 

I know it seems like a safe option to stay quiet if you think you might say the wrong thing or make a situation worse. 

I know it’s hard enough to send someone a friendly message or to know what to comment on a fic you loved, let alone to feel empowered to point out something that might make someone else react defensively. I’m not volunteering to be the morality police (acab) but i’m here for all of my friends, mutuals, and peers in the fandom who want support with calling-in others or learning. i encourage and welcome discussion and curiosity. 

i ask white folks to make conscious changes so that when these conversations die down we don’t fall back into enabling white ignorance to infect the fandom and harm our friends.

bonus thoughts

i see and am grateful for the folks that called my first post eloquent and at the same time i am deeply aware of the ‘angry Black woman’ trope that undermines and minimizes Black women’s voices (especially when they are rightfully angry). i guess i’m just repeating that i don’t want to speak over anyone but i am committing to speaking up. 

i don’t want to harp on the confederate flag example anymore, but i would like to be clear that this isn’t about censorship. Consider the context and don’t turn this into a straw man argument or dilute the message with whataboutery. It speaks volumes if you’d rather argue semantics than listen to your peers about the reality of impact vs intent with that example or others. 

thank you for reading and being here <3

[yara0546]

Hey can you do 7dream love languages? 🧡

Nct dream reaction | Their Love Language with You

୨୧ Pairing: nct dream x Reader

୨୧ Genre: Fluff, Comfort, relationship.

୨୧ Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

Masterlist

✦ Mark

Mark isn’t the best with expressing emotions, but when he realizes how much words mean to you, he makes an effort.

You sigh, looking out the window of your shared apartment. “Sometimes… I just wonder if I’m enough.”

Mark’s eyes widen, setting down his guitar. “What? What are you talking about? Of course, you are.”

You hesitate. “You don’t say it often. I know you care, but I just—”

Mark gently grabs your hands. “Hey. Listen to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean it. You make my days better, you’re my safe place. I love you, and I’ll remind you as many times as you need, okay?”

Your heart flutters at his sincerity. “Okay.”

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll say it every day if it makes you feel secure. Because you’re more than enough for me.”

✦ Renjun

Renjun doesn’t always say how much he loves you—he shows it.

One evening, you come home exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Renjun, I—”

Before you can finish, he gently pushes you toward the couch. “Shh, just sit. I got this.”

You blink as he brings over a tray of hot soup, tea, and your favorite snacks. “You cooked?”

He nods, his ears turning red. “You’ve been working too hard. I don’t like seeing you so tired.”

You smile, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He huffs, but his lips twitch into a smile. “Just eat. And don’t think of anything else, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

✦ Jeno

Jeno isn’t overly affectionate in public, but with you, he’s all about physical touch.

You sigh, rubbing your temples after a long day. Jeno notices immediately, pulling you into his arms. “Rough day?”

You nod against his chest. “Yeah.”

Instead of saying anything, he just holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. His warmth melts away your stress.

“You always know what I need,” you mumble.

He chuckles, resting his chin on your head. “That’s ‘cause I know you better than anyone.”

You close your eyes, letting yourself relax in his embrace. With Jeno, actions speak louder than words.

✦ Haechan

Haechan believes love is best shown through time spent together.

“Let’s go out!” he announces one evening.

You glance up from your book. “Haechan, it’s late.”

“So? We can go get late-night snacks. Just you and me.”

You hesitate, but the sparkle in his eyes convinces you. Soon, you’re walking down the quiet streets, hand in hand.

Haechan grins, swinging your arms. “I just wanna be with you, you know?”

You smile. “Even if it’s just for snacks?”

“Especially if it’s for snacks,” he teases before his expression softens. “Nah, I just… love spending time with you. Doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”

Your heart swells with warmth. “Me too.”

✦ Jaemin

Jaemin’s love language is a mix of touch and words.

One evening, you’re sitting beside him, feeling insecure. “Do you think I’m… good enough?”

Jaemin frowns and immediately pulls you into his lap. “What? Who put that thought in your head?”

You shrug. “I just… feel that way sometimes.”

He cups your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re perfect to me. And if anyone ever makes you doubt that, tell me so I can fight them.”

You giggle, but your heart flutters at his sincerity. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Only for you,” he says, pressing kisses to your forehead. “I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.”

✦ Chenle

For Chenle, love is shown through thoughtful gifts.

“Open it,” he says, handing you a beautifully wrapped box.

You blink in surprise. “But… it’s not a special occasion.”

He shrugs. “Who cares? I saw it and thought of you.”

You open the box to find a necklace with a charm shaped like something meaningful between you two. Tears prick your eyes. “Chenle… this is perfect.”

He grins. “Well, duh. I have good taste.”

You hug him tightly. “Thank you.”

He laughs but hugs you back. “I just want you to have little things that remind you of me.”

✦ Jisung

Jisung is shy about affection, but he shows his love through time spent together and subtle touches.

One afternoon, he drags you to the practice room. “I want to teach you a dance.”

You pout. “But I’m terrible at dancing.”

He grins. “I’ll help you.”

As he guides you through the steps, his hands linger on your waist, keeping you steady. “See? You’re doing great.”

You laugh. “Only because you won’t let me fall.”

“Of course not,” he says softly, holding your hand tighter. “I’d never let you fall.”

Your heart skips a beat. Maybe dancing with Jisung isn’t so bad after all.

[aajjks]

The conqueror (XXIII.)

Synopsis: He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.

Pairings: Yandere!King Jungkook x Commoner!servant Reader

warnings: yándèrè, DÁRK TRÍGGÈRÍNG THÈMÈS, dárk óbsèssíòn, cràzy júngkòòk, dèprèssíón, 18+ thèmès, íntènsè thèmès, kórèàn tràdítíòns, àttèmpt át súícídè, NÓNCÔN KÍSSÍNG, TÓUCHÏNG, lüst, sèxúàl thèmès,

note. YALLLL This chapter is my best one yet I am so proud. Also, just a warning I have copy pasted some of the Korean traditional stuff from Google so I’m just telling you guys in advance and if you have any questions ask or anything to tell me just come into my inbox because this chapter is a terrifying. And sooooo sexy 🥵🥵🥵 undeniably, sexy… I have no words, but please please please share your feedback. OK I love you guys. Enjoy.

series masterlist

taglist: @mageprincess7 @starsggukk @sprinkleoftee @koremis @minshookie29 @sana-b @bangtannoonalvg @oonaaurora @jeonsweetpea @sugaslittlekookies @outro-kook @kthyg @lunaashes @debicaptain-saturn @laurynne5 @captainsjoongs @myblackconfessions @lanalanexpjm @namjooncrabs @shadowmoon21 @kookunot @natalie-rdr @angelicasdre @iwasfuckinginnocentonce @mermaidtea @foulnightharmony @ungodlyjoon @quechulitaaa @telepathytae @silversparkles11 @j3alous-ang3l @bunzom @1-in-abillion @breadgeniedope @jiminie-08 @artgukk @lovesthetword @bunijmin @pinkcherrybombs @afangirllikeme-blog @twilight-love-nochu-main @wedarkacademia @hollxe1 @bighitfics @darkuni63 @golden-thv @investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @koocreampie (I can’t tag anymore people, it’s full 😭😭)

The air feels heavy, oppressive, as if the entire palace is holding its breath in anticipation of this day. Your wedding day. The day your life is to be bound forever to the man you hate most in this world. You sit in your chambers, unable to bring yourself to look in the mirror. The room is alive with movement, court ladies bustling around you, adjusting every detail of your appearance as though they’re preparing a lamb for slaughter.

The silk of your hanbok feels suffocating, its intricate embroidery weighing you down. The deep crimson and golden hues, symbols of purity and virtue, mock you with every thread. This is not a union of love. This is a chain, cold and unyielding, tying you to a man who thrives on blood and power.

“Perfect, my lady,” the seamstress finally declares, stepping back to admire her work. Her smile is full of pride, but it feels hollow.

Nothing about today is perfect.

“How fortunate you are to marry the king,” Na-yeon whispers close to your ear, her tone laced with a smugness that makes your stomach turn. “Most women would kill to be in your place.”

You don’t respond. Your throat feels tight, your heart heavy. Most women don’t know the truth about him. Most women haven’t seen the darkness that festers behind his piercing gaze. If they did, they’d run far, far away.

“Leave me alone,” you whisper weakly, your voice cracking. The court ladies exchange glances but obey, bowing before quietly filing out of the room. All except Na-yeon. She lingers, always watching, always ready to report back to him.

“You should feel honored,” she says, her voice soft but sharp, like the blade of a knife. “This is the greatest moment of your life.”

You swallow hard, fists clenched in your lap. “The greatest moment of my life?” you repeat bitterly. “This is the worst moment of my life. I’d rather die.”

For a fleeting second, her expression falters, but it’s gone just as quickly. She straightens, smoothing the front of her hanbok. “You mustn’t say such things, my lady. The king wouldn’t like to hear that.”

You glare at her. “Let him hear it. I don’t care anymore.”

But even as the words leave your mouth, you feel the weight of them settle in your chest. You’ve felt the consequences of his anger before. You know better than to provoke him. And yet, part of you doesn’t care.

You’re desperate, grasping at any semblance of control, even if it means testing his patience. You wish that you had died last night when he had attempted to take your own life, but then….

Na-Yeon had caught you. She has been like a shadow and now you’re here.

The palace courtyard is alive with activity, the sound of drums echoing through the cold morning air. The ceremonial guards stand in perfect formation, their armor gleaming under the pale sunlight.

Nobles and officials gather in clusters, their voices hushed as they exchange whispers about the grand occasion.

You’re led through the courtyard by a procession of attendants, their hands firm on your arms as they guide you toward the altar. You want to run, to scream, but your body betrays you. Your legs move mechanically, your feet dragging across the stone path as though weighed down by chains.

The altar looms ahead, a grand structure draped in silk banners and adorned with offerings of fruit, rice, and incense. At its center stands Jungkook, his figure imposing, cloaked in the rich robes of a king. His dark eyes find yours immediately, piercing through the crowd, and your breath catches.

There’s something about the way he looks at you—intense, unyielding, predatory. It sends a shiver down your spine. He’s been waiting for this moment, and the satisfaction in his expression is unmistakable.

As you approach, the murmurs of the crowd fall silent. All eyes are on you now.

“Bow,” one of the court ladies hisses under her breath.

You hesitate for only a moment before lowering yourself to the ground, your knees pressing against the cold stone. Your head dips forward in a deep bow, a gesture of submission that makes your stomach churn.

Jungkook steps forward, his movements slow, deliberate. You feel his presence before you see him, the weight of it suffocating.

“Rise,” he commands, his voice deep and resonant.

“AND… you, the court lady… never ever talk to my wife like that, or I will have your tongue for breakfast.” Jungkook growls and the lady immediately cowers in fear, he glares daggers into her head.

You watch and you hear everything.

He’s so scary.

You obey, standing on shaky legs as he towers over you. He doesn’t speak, but his eyes tell you everything. You belong to him now.

The ceremony begins with the gabae, the presentation of gifts. Silk, gold, jewels—each item is placed before you with great ceremony, a display of wealth and power that feels more like a taunt than a gesture of goodwill.

Jungkook watches you intently, his gaze never wavering. You can feel the heat of it, burning into your skin, as though he’s daring you to object. But you don’t. You can’t.

Next comes the pyebaek, the bowing ritual. You kneel once again, this time before Jungkook and the royal elders. Your movements are stiff, your body trembling with each bow. The elders nod in approval, their expressions impassive, while Jungkook watches with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs under his breath, so low only you can hear. The word feels like a brand, searing into your skin.

The final ritual is the joongin, the sharing of food. A tray of offerings is placed before you—steamed rice, dried fish, and fruits carefully arranged in intricate patterns. Jungkook picks up a piece of fruit, holding it out to you.

“Eat,” he commands.

You hesitate, your eyes darting to the food. Your hands tremble as you take the fruit from him, the act feeling more symbolic than it should. As you take a bite, the crowd erupts into applause, their cheers echoing across the courtyard.

It’s done. You are now his queen.

The celebrations continue long into the evening, but you barely notice. Your mind is numb, your body moving on autopilot as you’re led through the motions of the day. Smiling when prompted, nodding when addressed—it’s all a blur.

As the sun sets, the palace is bathed in the warm glow of lanterns. The air is thick with the scent of incense and wine, the sounds of laughter and music filling the halls. But you don’t feel joy. You feel hollow.

Later that night, Jungkook finds you in your chambers. He’s shed his ceremonial robes for a simpler, darker outfit, but his presence is just as commanding.

“Come,” he says, extending a hand toward you.

You don’t move. Your feet feel rooted to the ground, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he warns, his voice low, dangerous.

Reluctantly, you take his hand. His grip is firm, almost possessive, as he leads you toward the royal chambers.

The night stretches ahead of you, long and uncertain. You don’t know what awaits you behind those doors, but one thing is certain: your life, as you knew it, is over.

•••

Hours later… you are even more terrified.

The air in the bridal chamber is thick with tension. The flickering candlelight casts long, trembling shadows across the walls, the golden dragons embroidered on the silk bedding almost seeming to writhe. You stand frozen in the center of the room, your hands fidgeting with the delicate fabric of your wedding hanbok. Your heart pounds in your chest like a caged animal, the cold sweat on your back soaking through the layers of expensive silk.

The heavy door creaks open behind you, and you flinch. His footsteps are slow, deliberate, each one a deliberate announcement of his presence. King Jungkook—no, your husband now—steps into the room, his dark robes flowing behind him, the faint scent of musk and sandalwood following him.

He stands tall, broad shoulders and a powerful frame outlined by the flickering light. His strong jaw clenches slightly, and his dark, piercing eyes drink you in. His presence is suffocating, his physique commanding. The ceremonial attire does little to hide the strength beneath the fine fabric, his toned chest visible through the parting of his robe. His raven-black hair falls slightly into his eyes, framing his perfect like features. He is devastatingly beautiful, and that terrifies you.

“You look breathtaking,” he says, his voice low and husky, carrying an edge that sends a shiver down your spine.

You take a small step back, the edge of the bed pressing against the back of your legs.

His eyes narrow at the movement, but he doesn’t comment. He shuts the door behind him with a soft click, the sound filling the silence like a judge sealing your fate.

Jungkook moves toward you slowly, his gaze fixed on you like a predator stalking its prey. Your mouth feels dry, your throat tight as you take another step back, only to have your knees buckle slightly when you bump into the bed.

“There’s no need to be afraid, my queen,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively soft. “Tonight is ours. No one will disturb us.”

You open your mouth to respond, to beg or plead, but the words die on your lips when he reaches out. His hand is warm as it brushes against your cheek, his thumb tracing your trembling lower lip. The touch is almost tender, but the hunger in his eyes betrays him.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?” he whispers, his tone dark with an undercurrent of desperation. His thumb presses slightly against your lip, as if testing your resolve. “How many nights I’ve dreamed of you, Y/N?”

“Y-Your Majesty—”

“Jungkook,” he interrupts, his tone firm, almost commanding. “You are mine now, my queen. No more formalities.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans closer, his face mere inches from yours. The warmth of his body radiates against your trembling form, his scent intoxicatingly rich and masculine. You can feel the raw strength in his presence, the way his chest rises and falls, the way his arms flex as he reaches for you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, his lips hovering just above yours. “Do you know what it does to me? Seeing you like this? Knowing you’re finally mine?”

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours in a kiss that steals the air from your lungs. It is not gentle. It’s forceful, claiming, a declaration of his dominance. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, his other hand gripping your waist and pulling you against his chest.

Your hands press against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but it’s futile. His chest is solid, the muscles beneath the silk unyielding. You feel the raw power in his body, a strength that both intimidates and overwhelms you.

“Stop,” you whisper against his lips, your voice trembling, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, your resistance only seems to fuel his desire.

“Stop?” he repeats, his voice low and laced with frustration as he finally pulls back. His dark eyes bore into yours, the hunger in them burning brighter than ever. “Why do you keep running from me, Y/N? I am your husband now. Your king. You belong to me.”

Tears well in your eyes, but you force them back, refusing to let him see you cry. “Please,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I—I can’t—”

“FUCK, YN.”

He screams and you flinch, for a moment as he hears his voice through the walls of this chamber, he almost feels bad as he stares at you

You’re so terrified, a crying mess, but God knows, it’s only turning him on more.

Why are you so fucking frustrating?

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck tightening as he stares down at you. His gaze flickers to your trembling hands, your heaving chest, and then back to your tear-filled eyes. For a moment, something unreadable flashes across his face—hurt, perhaps, or maybe just irritation.

“I’ve given you everything,” he says, his voice cold now, but still laced with that obsessive edge. “I’ve built a kingdom for you. Killed for you. And yet you still flinch when I touch you.”

You don’t respond, unable to find the words.

His hand moves to your waist again, sliding around to the small of your back as he pulls you against him. His other hand trails up your arm, his touch light but possessive. The contrast between his strength and his touch sends a chill down your spine.

“You’re so delicate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “So fragile. But you’re mine. Do you understand that, Y/N?”

You shake your head slightly, tears spilling down your cheeks. “No,” you whisper. “I don’t want this. I never wanted this.”

His grip tightens for a moment, his jaw clenching as he exhales sharply. The air between you grows colder, the tension suffocating.

“You’ll learn,” he says finally, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ll learn to love me. To need me. Because no one else will ever have you.”

He leans in again, his lips brushing against your neck this time. You feel the heat of his breath, the light scrape of his teeth against your skin, and you shudder.

But then, he stops.

For a long moment, the room is silent except for the sound of your uneven breathing. He pulls back, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. His expression hardens, and he lets out a low growl of frustration.

“You’re not ready,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “Not yet.”

His hands fall away from you, and he steps back, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with barely-contained frustration. “I could take you right now,” he says, his voice cold. “But that wouldn’t satisfy me. Not like this.”

You stare at him, unsure whether to feel relief or dread.

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he glares at you. “You insult me with your fear, Y/N,” he says, his voice low and venomous. “But you’ll come to me willingly one day. You’ll beg for my touch.”

He turns abruptly, his dark robes swirling around him as he moves toward the door. Before leaving, he pauses, his hand on the handle.

“Remember this, Y/N,” he says without looking back. “You’re mine. In this life and the next.”

The door shuts behind him with a finality that makes your knees buckle. You collapse onto the bed, trembling, your mind spinning with fear and confusion.

The silence of the room is deafening, but it doesn’t give you no comfort. You know this isn’t the end—merely the beginning of a life trapped in the clutches of a man whose obsession burns hotter than any love ever could.

[deepmochi]

Ways to love yourself more: according to your Venus sign 🐚

Image: Viggo Christian Frederik Vilhelm Pedersen.

Some recommendations for self-care and self love for you, lovelies. Take what resonates only 🩷.

Aries: express your needs and behaving as you want without damaging someone. Being rude don't take you anywhere, you feel hurt later. Enjoy your mobility more, dance, sports or more. Feel alive, do what makes you happy. Protect your body, now, jump!

Taurus: be reliable not only to others but also for yourself. Take things slowly with new people, but try to know others. Relationships are for two. Don't waste your potential procrastinating or being with people just because you invest them years. Paint or binge that new series.

Gemini: explore your mind and all that need for learning. Wear those styles and express your mind. Slow down, bb. Take your time. Stimulate your brain with those people who make you feel alive and understood. See others perspectives. Play board games with friends.

Cancer: Spend time with your home, family, and pets. Create a place call home under your own beliefs. Nurture yourself like a mother would do it, like you do it for your loved ones. Share your emotions and your emotional turmoil with someone who cares. Start a journal about whatever you want.

Leo: Live, laugh and cry. Wake up your inner child, and go play with them. Be the queen or king you are. Leave your ego behind for a moment. You can try again the next day. Buy those earrings and what make you happy with moderation. Take a moment and say love you to someone who deserves it. Also, eat that dessert.

Virgo: reaffirm your value without seeking approval from others. Be nice with yourself. Go and relax for a day. Do nothing,it is fine to rest. Find a new hobby where you can appreciate each stage from learning to mastering it. While doing this, try to accept you imperfections because you are worthy of love. Buy that new facial cream! And read that fanfiction book.

Libra: try to accept your natural beauty, not what society expects from you. Date yourself, take a nice coffee or tea. Wearing what you like for the sake of being honest to your essence. Appreciate solitude, the same way you care for partnerships.

Scorpio: learn from past mistakes by taking responsibility for it. Using those transformational gifts for better understanding of your human psyche. Watch that embarrassing movie that you love. Go ask your pet or some person a hug.

Sagittarius: try new things and discovering your humanity but welcom those fears you try to leave in the past. Instead of running away and seeking new knowledge, take a moment to appreciate your surroundings and your grow. Take a silly video of you and your pet or just ride a bicycle.

Capricorn: Spend time with your family, friends and yourself. Find a space in your agenda to be grateful for the people you love and care. Go and enjoy life, do soemthing that makes you feel alive: a simple walk around the park or sleeping 8hr is enough.

Aquarius: share your interests with someone who cares and listen to you. Learning more about different perspectives and ask for help when you need it. Watch that documentary you like, or create a blog where you share experiences with others.

Pisces: be grateful for what you have, people in your life and small moments. Watching that old t.v. show that make you happy when you were a kid. Asking your inner child to choose something random and do it. Wrote that fanfiction about your favorite pair in that t.v show, or just eat cereal watching animal videos.

Take care, love

Credit: @deepmochi

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

And if you give your opinion please consider giving some attention to another fundraiser.

Here is the post with his Verification by @northgazaupdates

The current blog of the patient is @mohammedalhabil2000

This young man is facing surgery amidst a region in crisis. If you'd like to help there's a few things you can do!

First Share. Shares help by rallying more support, and getting more potential donors eyes on the campaign.

Then donations can help directly if you've got money to spare. It's also low risk because Gofundme has a Year for donations.

Do what you can. Give what you can. Money or time, No Action Is Too Small.

Thank You!

Direct Link to Fundiraser Here

Tag list to help this get movin!

Tag List 1 - DM for removal

@a-shade-of-blue @sunnylittledragon

@selflovejolteon @virovac @frustrated-froglet @qattdraws @heydreamchild

@amvs @boosting-donations @sweet-honey-bunnies @dyspunktional-leviathan @nobelgasxenon @zone0neko @comrademango @genderdog @deansmultitudes @geekydragon @myceliacrochet

@acehimbo @fancy-strawberry-beard @turtletoria @thatsonehellofabird @buttercuparry

@leechloach @verdiesque @metamorphesque @eremes @waterloggedsoliloquy @fascinationstreetmp3 @queerpyracy @mlm-blues @lakesbian @u3pxx @crtvirus @tiercel @borrelia @nvtxl @nonbinary-watanuki @dykentery @ossifer @crusty @libelelle @coastalhorrors

[danisdistant]

sunday - protectiveness

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

[intro blog] | [taglist] | [masterlist]

he cares about you, deeply. ever since you joined the astral express, he’s paid special attention to you. he would mentally note your hobbies, interests, likes, and dislikes, because he genuinely wants you to be happy.

after all, you’re the kind of person who listens to his stories and rants without judgment. you’ve listened intently, almost as though you understand him as a person. and while you don’t agree with his methods in the past, you’ve expressed support his goal to help humanity.

you’re someone sunday genuinely feels comfortable around, and because of this he wants to protect you and your smile. it’ll be somewhat hard though, not to repeat his actions from the past.

if sunday didn’t know any better, his first instinct would’ve been to cage you. he would try to talk to welt, himeko, and pom-pom to have you stay on the express for safety. but, learning from his mistakes he knows that wouldn’t slide with the nameless at all. even worse, he knew you would be unhappy staying cooped up even in a gilded cage.

instead, sunday tries to travel to the same worlds you travel to. because of the growing size of the trailblaze, himeko and pom-pom agreed to have two separate trips for two parties in different worlds. originally this wasn’t possible, but thanks to the unlimited fuel that was recently acquired, the express is free to travel wherever they wish, and for however long they want.

you didn’t mind sunday’s company at all. in fact, you appreciated the extra company that he gives whenever you explore. in some worlds, you’ve sometimes helped him spread word about harmony, or helped him gather data to further understand humanity and their will.

if you’re dropping by penacony, expect to stay a day or two while you watch sunday reminisce about the past. he would tell you stories about his childhood in the dreamscape, his dreams, and his concerns about what robin may be doing. while he’s not reminiscing about the past, he would try to take you to his favorite locations to see your smile.

if you’re dropping by your home world, sunday would follow you around as you tell him stories, or things that fascinate him about your world. who knew someone as gracefully as you came from somewhere humble? even if you knew the place like the back of your hand, knowing where to go and what to avoid, sunday would still try to protect you and keep an eye on your surroundings. scanning left and right for any suspicious activity, he reminds you of an owl searching for prey.

sunday would often use the harmony to understand people’s intentions, in case they might be individuals that might harm you. he would support you in battle, (offering you massive crit buffs for big pp damage) and cover your weak spots if you’re not able to defend yourself. if you’ve injured yourself, sunday wouldn’t hesitate to take out the med kit and make you rest until you recover. if the injury is bad enough, rest assured he’ll stick by your side until the express arrives.

while you’re not saving worlds, sunday would often make coffee or tea for the two of you to bond, whichever is your preference. this is typically the time where stories are shared, whether from childhood something else.

some of the nameless, such as march 7th or stelle, would sometimes tease you after noticing sunday’s fondness over you, but it was the type of tease you didn’t mind. sunday on the other hand, would try to hide his embarrassment behind his wings, or something more modest like stuffing his face inside his book he always carries around.

but as long as you let him stay by your side, he will always be there to protect you from dangers that lie ahead. if he believes he can protect you and your smile, he should be able to protect humanity and their happiness too.

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

sunday headcannons taglist: @khoncore

[onbreakreadlastpost]

Taking a break

I will be uninstalling tumblr during this period and won't be able to reply to any messages. I'm sorry.

I am taking a break. I don't know how long I will be taking a break but in the mean time I won't be using tumblr. This past week I have become overwhelmed with sharing fundraisers to the point that I am spending a significant chunk of my day sharing them. Pushing back things like eating.

To the Palestinians I am letting down, including ones who are in contact with me, I am truly sorry. I made promises of continually sharing campaigns that I knew I couldn't keep. I am so so sorry.

I am diagnosed with ocd and have been for a few years. Recently, it's been getting worse. Wanting to help Palestinians has quickly become an obsession and compulsion for me.

I can't help anyone if I can't help myself first. I hope I am able to help in a more healthy way soon.

If I get money, I will still donate to as many of the campaigns I am aware of as possible.

In the meantime, I will tag a few accounts that Palestinians and anyone fundraising can contact to spread their campaign.

@gazavetters @dlxxv-vetted-donations @bilal-salah0 @sar-soor @myceliacrochet @yellowis4happy

These links may be useful to both Palestinians raising funds and definitely for people looking to donate.

https://www.instagram.com/beesandwatermelons/

I'm sorry and thank you for reading.

[bamfkeeper]

Absolution. | K.W

warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI | AFAB reader | Religious themes | Priest/sinner roleplay | Soft dom/sub dynamics | Dirty talk | Spanking | Slight bondage | Anal sex | Sex toys | Corruption themes. Obviously not realistic don't just have anal sex without prep 😭

Do not read if this if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable, please just skip it. I mean no disrespect to religion, this is just a stupid fanfic please do not take this seriously.

a/n: I started this fic in JULY. So if the writing seems a little weird, that's why. I've grown a lot since I first started this blog so my style has switched up a bit. I tried to keep to Kurt's character even with the scenario, hopefully I balanced it out okay. Probably not everyone's thing so...don't read if not. Slowly making my way back here. Not proofread, will do at a later date. ;; wc: 4.7k

You were so bored.

It was a lazy day at the mansion, your boredom drove you into a cleaning frenzy. While rummaging through Kurt's wardrobe, you stumbled upon something you hadn't seen before. "Kurt, is this..." you begin, your voice trailing off as you carefully extract the garment from its hiding place.

Kurt glances up from the book he held, perched on the chair sitting in the corner of the room, his eyes softening with recognition. "Ah, ja...my robes," he responds, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. Rising from his seat, he approaches you with measured steps, gently taking the robes from your hands. "I have not worn them in quite some time," he muses, his fingers tracing the familiar fabric with reverence.

Intrigued by this glimpse into Kurt's past, you can't help but tilt your head, "You should put them on." Your curiosity piqued, you add, "I'd love to see how you look in them." You didn't share the same views, which might've been why Kurt was a bit reserved about that part of himself, not wanting to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable.

You make yourself comfortable on the bed, eager to see how he looked in his robes. Kurt, ever obliging, nods in response to your request and begins to don his priestly attire. The process is unhurried, almost ritualistic, as he carefully slips into each layer. Once fully dressed, he turns his attention to the details, his fingers working to adjust the collar just so. Standing before the mirror, Kurt takes a moment to assess his reflection, his expression a mixture of familiarity and something like nostalgia crosses his features.

"Well, what do you think, liebling?" he inquired, slowly rotating to face you with his arms slightly extended. His end of his tail tail swayed under the end of the robe in a languid motion as his eyes met yours, curiosity evident in his gaze. As you observed him, an unexpected sensation stirred within you, a powerful and undeniable attraction that you found impossible to ignore. You felt shame bubble in your belly, you shouldn't be this attracted to him like this. It was wrong, but...it felt so right.

Drawn by this magnetic pull, you rose from your seat and approached him. Your voice was low and appreciative as you commented, "You look really good wearing this." Your hand, almost of its own accord, traced a path up his chest, feeling the warmth beneath the fabric. He responded with a soft, knowing chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah... I see that mischievous glint in your eyes. You're thinking naughty things, aren't you?" he remarked, gently placing his hand over yours to halt its exploratory journey.

"I understand what you desire, liebe," he continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "However, I'm not certain I can fulfill that wish while wearing these garments. They hold too much sacred meaning for me...engaging in such activities while wearing them would feel far too blasphemous." His words trailed off, leaving an air of regret hanging between you.

Kurt held his religious beliefs close to his heart, creating a conflict between his desire not to disappoint you and his need to maintain the sanctity of his attire. The struggle was obvious in his expression as he grappled with the dilemma of wanting to please you without compromising his deeply held convictions.

"Why don't we pretend?" you suggested with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Something along the lines of roleplaying, maybe? Given your natural flair for theatrics and showmanship, I'm sure you could have fun with it." The proposition wasn't without merit, and he thought about it for a moment, his mind clearly working through the possibilities. His head tilted to the side in contemplation, and reaching his internal consensus, he nodded in agreement, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Very well," he replied, his voice a mix of curiosity and enthusiasm. "We can certainly give that a try. If it brings you happiness, then I'm more than willing." His smile widened as he leaned in, planting a gentle, affectionate kiss on the tip of your nose. "However, I'll need a moment to prepare. Allow me to make some alterations to my appearance and demeanor. I have a different robe I will change into, very similar to this one, don't worry. Just less significant to me."

And just like that, the scene was set.

In what felt like a few moments, Kurt had transformed. He now stood towering above you, his presence suddenly commanding and authoritative.

You were on your knees before him, a position that encouraged the power dynamic you both had agreed to explore. Kurt reached down and cupped your chin in his hand, gentle and assertive, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually warm and playful, now held a hint of stern judgment, perfectly in character for the role he had assumed.

"Well, well," he began, his voice taking on a rich, sonorous quality that sent a shiver down your spine. "You've been quite the naughty sinner, haven't you?" His tone carried a note of playful admonishment, but there was an underlying current of something more intense. "After all the transgressions you've committed, you now come seeking absolution? Seeking forgiveness from me?" He questioned, his delivery starting off with a hint of theatrical flair.

It was clear that this was new territory for him, and initially, he felt a touch of self-consciousness, a slight awkwardness in inhabiting this unfamiliar role. However, as he continued, you could see him settling into the character, his confidence growing with each word. His initial hesitation was rapidly giving way to a more controlled, measured performance, as he found his footing in this improvised scenario.

You felt nervous and excited, the feelings coursing through your veins, having never engaged in 'roleplay' before. A slight tremor shook your voice and a few nervous chuckles followed, you managed to formulate a response. "Oh, Father Wagner," you began, your words held playful desperation, "I've been so busy, I haven’t had the time to come to you. But now, I find myself in dire need of spiritual cleansing. You're the only one who possesses the power to absolve me of my sins." As the words left your lips, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a giggle at the sheer ridiculousness of the scenario.

"My child," he responded, his tone suddenly shifting, "The act of sinning is no trivial matter to be taken lightly." His abrupt immersion into the 'role' caught you completely off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned. He released his grip on your chin and fixed you with a stern, unyielding gaze. "However," he continued, his voice low and resonant, "You are fortunate indeed. For I have been bestowed the ability to purge the corruption of sin from your very soul."

A part of you wanted to burst into laughter, seeing him adopt such a serious demeanor for this playful charade was a surprise. However, not wanting to shatter the illusion or dampen the enjoyment of the moment, you made a conscious effort to maintain your composure and play along. You gave a slight bow with your head, responding in a soft, reverent tone, "Yes, Father Wagner." You repeated his title, savoring the way it rolled off your tongue.

Slowly, you raised your gaze to meet his, your eyes wide and imploring, your features arranged into the most innocent expression you could muster. "I humbly beseech you," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "Please, cleanse my soul of its impurities."

Kurt gently lifted you from the floor and guided you to the bed. "I will have to start with the basics, my dear, but do not be afraid. I promise you, I will purify your soul," he whispered, his voice acting as a soothing balm to your nerves. His lips brushed against the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he guided you to lay across the edge of the bed, his touch both firm and gentle. "Now, stay perfectly still..." he hummed, his voice a low, melodic rumble. You felt him move away, his presence shifting to the side as he reached for something unseen.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you attempted to turn your head, eager to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. However, Kurt's hand swiftly returned, his palm warm against the back of your head as he held you in place. "Ah, nein, my little sinner," he chided softly, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "You must remain still for the cleansing ritual to work its magic." His fingers began to move, gently scratching your scalp in a soothing manner before he slowly withdrew his touch.

You couldn't help but let out a small huff of frustration, torn between the desire to see and the need to obey his instructions. Despite your impatience, you forced yourself to comply, your body relaxing into the position he had placed you in.

"Alright, alright," you conceded, your voice a mixture of resignation and anticipation. "What exactly do you have in store for me, Father Wagner?" The question hung in the air, your curiosity peaking as you waited, body tense with expectation. The soft sound of Kurt's footsteps reached your ears as he moved around the room. When he returned, you sensed his presence beside you, accompanied by the subtle rustle of fabric.

"I have something special for you, mein Schatz," he murmured, his accent thickening slightly with emotion. You heard the gentle thud of an object being placed on the bed next to you, and from the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of a small, ornate box. The sight of it only heightened your curiosity, and Kurt knew it.

"This has all of my cleansing tools, my dear. I promise you I will be forgiven when I am done," Kurt said, his voice a low, husky whisper. His hand glided over the curve of your ass, slow and deliberate, his touch both gentle and electrifying. The anticipation built with each passing second, your skin tingling under his fingertips. Just as you began to relax into his caress, he suddenly laid a firm smack to your backside. The sharp sound echoed in the room, followed immediately by a stinging sensation that spread across your skin.

Your eyes widened in shock, and before you could process what had happened, a sharp cry of surprise escaped your lips. "Ah, Kurt!" You spat out, shock in your tone as you blinked and registered the sensation. The unexpected nature of his action left you breathless, your mind reeling as you tried to comprehend that he had actually spanked you, of all things.

"Es tut mir Leid, schatz...are you okay?" Kurt asked, his voice shifting from the dominant tone he had adopted earlier to one of concern. He paused, breaking character for a moment as he gently rubbed his hand over your backside, soothing the lingering sting from his unexpected strike. The tender ministrations of his fingers helped ease the sensation, and you realized that while the spank had been surprising, it hadn't actually hurt. You still appreciated his attentiveness and care, even in the midst of your roleplay. You nodded, meeting his gaze to reassure him of your well-being.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you replied, your voice a little breathier than usual. A smile played at the corners of your mouth as you continued, "I just didn't expect it, but I'm down if that's what you wanna do." Your words came out as a purr, laden with a newfound excitement.

A playful glint danced in your eyes, reflecting your growing intrigue with this unexpected turn of events. Kurt's cheeks flushed a light shade of violet, betraying his initial surprise at your enthusiastic response.

For a moment, his carefully constructed persona faltered, and you caught a glimpse of the sweet, sometimes shy man beneath the dominant exterior.

He quickly cleared his throat, visibly attempting to regain his composure and slip back into character. As you watched him struggle to maintain his role, you felt a wave of affection wash over you. You were genuinely touched that he had taken the time to check in and ensure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries. You gave him a nod, silently telling him you were good to continue.

He delivered another firm smack to your ass, this time with increased intensity. "Such a mischievous creature you are, I certainly have my work cut out for me, ja? What shall I do with such a naughty thing..." he mused, allowing his hand to caress one of your cheeks tenderly before administering another spank. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you bit down gently, eliciting a smile from him. "Remember, liebe, if you wish to stop, simply say 'red'," he cooed reassuringly, planting a gentle kiss along your spine. You nodded in understanding, acknowledging the safe word.

Kurt delicately parted you, tilting his head to the side with a knowing and somewhat playful smile. "My, my, you're already quite aroused, my little sinner...truly a naughty thing indeed. It seems I shall have to purify you in an alternative manner." His voice carried a blend of amusement and authority, causing your heart to race even more rapidly than before. He leaned in closer, his warm breath caressing your skin, as he continued in a low, seductive murmur, "This cleansing will be most thorough, I assure you. It will be an experience that shall linger in your memory for quite some time to come...and make you think twice before committing a sin again."

You could feel something warm on your ass and you stiffened slightly, feeling a lubricated finger gently teasing the ring of muscle. He felt your body grow tense, noticing the subtle shift in your posture. Kurt circled his finger around the tightened muscle, trying to ease the tension. "Are you alright, Liebling?" Kurt asked softly, his voice concerned again. "Remember, you can say 'red' if you want to stop at any point," he reminded gently, emphasizing your safety and comfort above all else.

"I-I'm okay, just new...is all." You managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly as you spoke. The sensation of your stomach tightening made everything feel a lot more sensitive. You had never done this before, and the unfamiliarity of the situation left you feeling a bit unsure, but willing to try it.

Kurt slowly pushed his finger past the muscle and you gasped. His finger weaseled its way into you, gently pumping in and out, the lube making it much easier than without. The sensation was so weird, but it felt so good too.

"Nngh...that feels good..." you murmured softly, your entire body melting into his gentle caress. With each delicate movement of his finger, you instinctively leaned back towards him, craving more of his touch. The sensation coursed through you, feeling so alien and unfamiliar, yet simultaneously exhilarating and soothing. The pleasure it brought left you yearning for more, desperate to feel more pleasure from your puckered entrance.

"Does it now? Well...a delicate little thing like you would naturally be drawn to this, wouldn't you? Such a taboo act...and here you are, completely enthralled by it." Kurt's voice was a low, melodious hum, tinged with a playfully sinister undertone. He deliberately withdrew his finger at an agonizingly slow pace, savoring every second of your squirming reaction. His intense gaze locked onto yours, observing with rapt attention as you quivered while looking over your shoulder at him.

The corners of his lips gradually curled upward into a self-satisfied smirk, clearly relishing the profound effect he was having on you. "Look at you, already trembling like a leaf," he remarked, his voice barely above a whisper, the intoxicating thrill of dominance unmistakable in both his tone and his piercing stare.

He decided to indulge in further exploration, his hands delicately gliding up the expanse of your bare back. He paused momentarily to bestow a gentle, comforting massage upon your shoulders, gradually easing away any lingering tension that might have been nestled within your muscles. His fingers traced a path down your spine, offering a soothing rub that coaxed you into an even deeper state of relaxation. You could feel each individual vertebra beneath his expert touch as he worked his way down your back with practiced precision.

As you surrendered more fully to his ministrations, he boldly ventured his hands lower, teasingly and playfully toying with your sensitive nipples. The unexpected sensation shot pleasure through your body, causing your face to flush deeply with a mix of arousal and bashfulness. Unable to contain your reaction, you let out a loud, unrestrained moan that echoed in the room, instinctively pressing your hips back against him in a clear display of eagerness and desire.

"Now, my lovely sinner, we shall proceed to the next crucial phase of your purification," he whispered, his lips barely grazing the delicate shell of your ear. "For this part, I'm afraid I must restrain you. Are you comfortable with that, my dearest?" His words, though softly spoken, carried a weight that made your pulse quicken.

You could feel your heart thundering within your chest, its rapid beats seeming to reverberate through your entire being. Your mind was racing, filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as you tried to imagine what might come next. The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, growing more intense and charged.

Every small sound became magnified in the growing silence - the rustle of fabric, the soft whisper of breath, the faint creak of floorboards. As you mentally steeled yourself for what was coming, time seemed to slow, each moment stretching out as you waited with bated breath for his next move.

He retrieved a delicate string adorned with small, shimmering beads. The intricate piece bore a striking resemblance to a rosary, yet it was not one in the traditional sense; the carefully chosen beads served a purely aesthetic purpose, devoid of any genuine religious significance. Kurt began to wrap the beaded string around your arms, his movements slow and deliberate as he secured them to the bed. Each loop was placed with thoughtful consideration, ensuring both your comfort and the effectiveness of the restraint.

He then turned his attention to your legs, repeating the process. The beaded strings were artfully arranged, positioning your limbs wide, you were unable to close them. The sensation was novel and a little weird, yet not unpleasant. Before going any further, he paused, allowing you a moment to acclimate to the unfamiliar feeling of restraint and the gentle pressure of the beads against your skin. His eyes met yours as he softly inquired, "Gut?" His voice was barely above a whisper, laden with care and seeking your approval.

After a brief moment of introspection, you responded with a nod, you found yourself surprisingly at ease. The bondage, expertly applied, caused no discomfort whatsoever. He made sure that the bindings around your wrists and ankles were secure without being restrictive or painful for you. Finding your voice, you replied, "I'm good, Father Wagner." Your tone carried a hint of playfulness, embracing the theatrical nature of the scenario.

He was pleased, so he continued. He shifted himself so his cock was exposed, he slowly stroked himself hard and he stepped closer. His cock head gently massaged between your folds and you mentally prepared for penetration but instead, he angled up at your other hole. You took a moment to realize what he was doing and you smirked, "Father Wagner...are you sure I'm the sinner?" You questioned playfully and wriggled your hips back.

"Hush," he said back quietly, his face blushed a bit before he got back in the mindset. "This is necessary for your sins. I unfortunately can't cleanse you through your womb, I must use the other hole you have..." he whispered, his spongy, blushed head pressed against the ring of muscle gently, prodding you lightly and teasing you.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, "Oh, are you sure I cannot pay for my sins with my pussy?" You asked with a gentle strain, turning to look back at him and blinking with feigned innocence. "Or have I been so naughty that my sweet cunt isn't worth my sins?"

Kurt grinned at your playful words, though caught a little off guard by the vulgarity, he was still enjoying the banter between you and he continued to prod your ass. "Oh, my dear, your sins are far too great for just one part of you to pay...I'm afraid only this hole will do." His tail curled behind him and handed him a small toy, he reached between your legs and teased your throbbing clit before he dragged it through your wet folds and pushed it inside your pussy. "Can't have temptation now can we?"

The surprising action from him made you let out a desperate whine, you could feel your pretty bundle of nerves throbbing at the light touch he had given you. "Only my ass, there isn't any other way?" You questioned, playing along with the direction the scene was going.

He leaned over you, kissing between your shoulder blades gently and he leaned close to speak in your ear. "Now then...let's see if we can't absolve some of these sins of yours." he whispered teasingly, spreading you a bit more before sliding into your ass slowly. The sudden intrusion into your ass made you stiffen in surprise. It was uncomfortable at first, the muscles not used to being stretched out.

The sensation was intense, causing you to inhale sharply as he eased in just past the tip. Immediately, he halted his movements, his eyes fixed intently on your face to gauge your reaction. Your comfort and well-being were important to him, regardless of the intimate act you were engaged in. He had no desire to inflict any discomfort upon you. "Are you alright?" he inquired in a gentle, concerned tone, his body completely motionless as he awaited your response.

"I just..." you exhaled slowly, trying to steady your breathing, "Need a moment to adjust..." you managed to say, your voice slightly strained. The initial discomfort was challenging, even with the careful preparation he had undertaken beforehand. His hands moved to your hips, gently caressing them in soothing, circular motions, but the rest of his body remained perfectly still, allowing you the time you needed.

Several minutes passed as you gradually acclimated to the new sensation. When you felt ready, you cautiously shifted your hips backward, assisting him in entering further. "Mmm...it's better now...f-feels good," you murmured, your voice a mixture of relief and growing pleasure.

"Gut...I will purify you, my child, do not fear," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He began to move his hips steadily, a rhythmic motion that gradually increased in intensity. Slowly, deliberately, he rocked into you, his thrusts careful and measured until he was fully seated within you. Kurt's arms encircled you, holding you close against his body, the warmth of his embrace felt good against the cool bedroom air.

The soft fabric of his robes swayed gently with each movement, creating a whisper of sound in the quiet room. "Ach....you are tight as a drum," he breathed, his words barely audible. He swallowed thickly, his body trembling with the effort of restraint, fighting against the overwhelming urge to lose himself in the moment.

You sighed deeply, your body responding to his movements with a shudder that ran from the base of your spine to the nape of your neck. Instinctively, you were rocking back against him, your bodies moving in perfect synchronization. "I can feel it working," you panted, your voice breathy. "I feel it, getting better...aah...the sins are leaving me…" Your words trailed off into a soft moan.

"They will fade, just let me cleanse you..." Kurt hissed against your skin, his hips thrusting faster against you as he focused on pumping himself in and out at a good pace. His cock stretched you so good, your previously unused hole now burning with hot desire, squeezing every ounce of him into your cavern.

"Kurt, oh my god...keep going," you moaned loudly, feeling every single bit of his dick deep inside you. Every vein against the muscle of your ass, the curve of that soft tip and the thickness pushing its way in and out with each piston of his hips. It felt so damn good, you were molding to him.

"I...am almost there, liebling..." Kurt rasped, his tail wrapped around your thigh tightly as he focused his thrusts. His endurance was impressive as hell, and he was determined to continue the pace he set without faltering.

The spade of his tail slithered over your clit and rubbed over it, gently teasing the bud enough for you to react and moan. His hands moved from your hips and ran under you to feel your chest. He was practically laying on you now, his hips not stuttering for a second.

You felt your climax approach and wash over you before you could warn him, and you let out a loud cry of pleasure as you came. Kurt's eyes widened, you tightened around him with your orgasm and his hips halted. He shot his climax deep into you, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he held you still.

Kurt gave a few more solid thrusts before he pulled out of your swollen hole, watching his cum drip out of your throbbing muscle. He felt such pride seeing you this way, but he knew you were extra sensitive now and the play was over after your respective climaxes. He reached and carefully removed the toy from your pussy, earning a soft whine from you.

"Ach...liebe...you will be the death of me..." He moved to unbind you, his fingers working methodically to remove each restraint one by one. As the bindings fell away, your limbs were finally free to relax from their confined position. Your muscles, having been held taut for so long, now felt completely boneless - like warm honey flowing through your veins. You rolled languidly onto your side and curled up into yourself, savoring the pure bliss that came with being able to bend and stretch your limbs again.

He settled beside you, shrugging off his robe before taking one of your arms into his hands as he began to massage the places where the restraints had been. His strong fingers working in slow, deliberate circles to encourage proper circulation. Each press of his fingertips was perfectly measured, firm enough to be therapeutic but gentle enough to soothe. He punctuated each rub with soft kisses, his lips trailing over the subtle marks left behind on your skin, trying to kiss away any lingering discomfort.

You were grateful for his gentle touch, melting into his embrace as he carefully tended to you. The warmth of his hands was soothing against your skin, and you couldn't help but sink deeper into the comfort he provided. You weren't hurt, but there was definitely a pleasant soreness settling into your muscles now. "That was...amazing," you breathed softly, your voice filled with contentment, "I mean...wow... I don't even know what to say..."

"You liked it?" Kurt asked, a gentle smile playing across his features as his hand splayed across your back, fingers working in slow, methodical circles to ease the tension around your hips.

"I didn't expect you to take the role so easily, or seriously..." You chuckled lightly, looking up at him from where you were comfortably nestled against his chest, your fingers idly tracing patterns on his skin. "But...it was fun. I mean, really fun. Did you enjoy it too? You didn't feel pressured into anything, right? I know it was kind of a weird request..."

"Of course not, liebe. I enjoyed it very much. Besides, seeing you so completely blissed out is one of my absolute favorite things to see...~" Kurt teased with a gentle smirk, his playful tone making you squirm as his tail lazily wrapped around your waist.

"Kurt..." You whined and quickly pulled the soft blanket nearby over your flushed body, burying your face against his chest, "We just finished! Don't get any ideas!"

"Okay, okay...no more play tonight. Just let Father Wagner take care of his precious little sinner now. You need your rest."

"Kurt!" You exclaimed, playfully swatting his arm despite the smile you couldn't quite hide. Regardless, you curled up as he continued to pamper you after the scene, his slow rubs and hums lulling you into a much needed nap.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Image from unknown source. I searched for over an hour to find the source but wasn't able to find it. If you know please message me so I can update this.

[satinestales]

can you write something like hobie ‘using’ reader (consensually ofc) and degrading her? no pressure if it’s too much :) thank youuu 🩷

cold rings | hobie brown x fem!reader

pairing: hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: porn without a plot

warnings: degradation, objefixation (mentions of being used), rough sex, little praising, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it kids), oral fem receiving, oral male receiving, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, hair pulling, teasing

author's note: First thing, I'd love to thank @hanasnx for correcting me and apologise for not crediting him first. I took a big inspiration from Indy's oneshot Moth To A Flame (Hobie Brown), and I definitely recommend you check out his blog out. I adore their writing <333

I solemnly believe Hobie is a sweetheart and a sub and loves to watch you do anything to him, but since he's a punk, there's a high chance he's into BDSM. Also, he was finally confirmed to be 20, so we're the same age woohoouu. Enjoy my try for a readable smut <333

m.list

You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, shivering slightly as the chilly weather crept into your room, but the warm sunset light falling into your window provided some solace. You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, leaning your body towards the tall figure sitting next to you.

The spikes on his bracelet met your skin, cold to the touch as he wrapped his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You could feel his chin on the top of your head, pulling you closer to him, relaxing in his arms. He was warm, and the cold quickly left your body. You smiled, closing your eyes right before his hand slipped down your body to play with the hem of your tank top, twisting it between his fingers.

You couldn't bother to wear anything else than lavender-colored panties and a black tank top that didn't reach further than your ribs. You couldn't judge Hobie after he made fun of you for being cold. It was purely just your fault.

"Didn't Jess want us to be at the HQ by dusk?" You mumbled into Hobie's shoulder, carefully scanning his long fingers, now outlining the fabric of your panties, tickling your lower stomach.

"Prolly," he responded, you could hear him smiling while answering you. You knew Hobie for too long to know he doesn't do anything he's told to do. Unless it's you. Any words that come from your mouth, he is determined to fulfill. "Rather be with you, tho." Kissing the top of your head, his hand moved back up to sweep the hair strands falling into your eyes.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, lifting yourself on your arms to take a proper look at your companion. His legs manspreading on your bed like he owns the place, his right arm still laid out on the headboard, and a smirk on his lips. You had to hold back a smile, biting your cheek, and looking into his big brown eyes.

"Miguel will beat your ass," you uttered, sitting straight, your knees bent under you and touching his. "And mine." You added not amused by the boredom in his expression. You shared his annoyance towards the Spider Society, but you didn't want to get your ass beaten by a big-ass leader whose claws could tear anyone apart. You already tested his patience last time, and you weren't in the mood for another discussion of how useless you are.

"Babe, don't worry about it," He saw your smiley expression turn into a face of concern and decided to comfort you. He threw himself away from the board leaning towards you, grabbing your hands in his and caressing your palm with his thumb. "S'gon be okay and also, when did a little trouble scare you?" he tilted his head, awaiting your reaction.

"Never," you shook your head, adding a dramatic tone to your voice. You leaned to give Hobie a quick kiss on his lips before jumping out of the bed and walking around the room to find your suit. "But I don't wanna be sent home just because I didn't meet his stupid deadlines, Hobes." You spoke, bending down to open a box with your suit in it. Wrinkled and dirty from the last mission, you totally forgot to clean it. But this time, it was Hobie's fault after he dragged you into his place after you finished your mission to release some steam. He was partly the reason why your suit was torn up in certain places.

Hobie leaned back again against the headboard, arms behind his head as he enjoyed the view of you bending down, your panties barely covering your ass.

"I'll make you your own watch," he uttered, not taking his eyes off you as you turned around to face him, throwing your suit on the bed. "Let him kick you out, and we can visit each other any day." A smile played across his lips as he crawled to you, towering over you, and pulling you closer to him by holding your waist. You could feel his breath because of how close he was and his cold rings touching your lower back. You couldn't smile at his idea, lips forming into a light smile. You wanted to protest and say you can't afford it, but he shut you up by leaning into you, his lips meeting your ear. "I'd finally have proper time to take care of you," he whispered into your ear, his hand sliding down to grab your ass. Chills traveled down your spine as you heard his voice and the cold jewelry on his hands meeting your ass.

You couldn't help but moan at his action and be rewarded by Hobie's cocky smile and his hands traveling under your panties to hold your bare ass properly. As many times as Hobie touched you, it always felt like the first time. His long, slim fingers slid down your skin, playing with the hem of your clothes, playing with your hair, or fingering you while lying beneath him. You always ended up begging for more, and he devoured every sound you made.

Words began to form on your tongue but quickly again disappeared when Hobie attacked your neck and started leaving light kisses on your skin. You leaned into his touch, mind blank, forgetting about the suit ready on your bed, and Jess probably waiting for the both of you to show up. Now, all your thoughts were full of Hobie's lips, already on your collarbones, and his fingers still holding your ass.

"Hobie," a moan left your lips as he moved his hand up to pull away the straps of your tank top down your shoulders. He stopped all his movements, looking up at you with concern in his eyes. You bent down to give him a proper kiss, pushing him back against the mattress, your weight falling on his. Both of you let out a surprised gasp, his hands grabbing you more tightly than before.

"I'll stay," you whispered against his lips, lifting yourself to sit on your knees on his lap while he laid beneath you. You could see the sudden change in his face, a smile glowing on his lips. "But," He raised his eyebrows, confused and waiting for what you were about to say. His hands moved back to hold your ass, your already wet core so close to his reach.

"Remember last time? At the dorm?" you asked, hoping he'd remembered. But you doubted he would forget you beginning as he pounded into you against the wall and called you names, you'd be too ashamed to admit you like being called.

As expected, he tilted his head, scanning your face to find out if you were joking. When he decided you were not, he nodded his head. "Could never forget that," he joked, gripping your ass harder and pushing you against his growing crotch, gasp leaving your mouth.

You bent down, hands on his chest as you whispered against his full lips, your teeth gently tugging on his cold piercing. "I want you to do it again. Use me like you did back then." You closed your eyes as you felt his lips move against yours, his hands moving up to hold your waist.

"You sure?" he asked gently, wanting to know you're certain about your wish. You didn't waste any second and gripped his shirt, pulling yourself closer to his body. Hoping that serves as an answer.

You felt Hobie smile against you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate and fuller of desire. You needed to feel his touch, his tongue, his fingers, his cold rings against your skin.

"Hobes, please," you whispered as his hands slipped up your tank top, caressing the skin of your underboob, teasing you. Testing how much you can take. His other hand traveled from your waist to find your hair, pulling them down so he could have more access to your neck. You let out a moan as he kept pulling your hair, holding your head thrown back. His lips attached to your neck, leaving wet trails as he moved down slowly.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice deeper and more demanding. It made your walls clench over nothing. His hand under your tank top finally moved up, your hard nipple meeting his cold rings. You gasped, closing your eyes, digging your nails into his thighs. His thumb ran over your nipple while still assaulting your neck with painfully slow kisses.

"Touch me, please." You begged between moans before you felt Hobie's lips move away from your neck and let off your hair. His brown eyes, now darker than a few minutes before, pupils dilated, stared back into yours, a smirk playing on his face.

"Barely done anything, and you're so needy already." Tilting his head, holding back a smile. His gaze fell, where your crotch met his, thoughts playing in his head.

"Pathetic," he mumbled to himself before grabbing you by the waist and throwing you under him, your back meeting your soft mattress. Hair spread on the bedsheets; legs spread for Hobie to fit in between. Your tank top slid up, exposing half of your boobs and if Hobie looked down, he could've seen the wet spot between your legs.

"You look a fucking mess." You watched him draw his fingers alongside your tank top, moving them down to meet the lace of your panties. You waited patiently for his next move, moving your hips against his hand for some friction. But he caught your action and pulled his hands away. You rolled your eyes at the frustration, pushing away the desire to finish this by yourself. But you asked for this, and Hobie always respected your wishes. No matter how twisted they were.

"Hobie, please just," Your tone was filled with annoyance, which made Hobie laugh, admiring how needy and beautiful you were for him. Lying there, leg spread out, tits out, waiting to be fucked like a whore.

"I'm gonna do what I want," he grabbed your cheeks, eyes staring into your soul. "And you will take it." His dominant voice traveled straight to your core, wanting nothing else than to be filled by him. Nodding your head, you didn't protest and let Hobie place his fingers back on your skin, teasing you for minutes before his fingers finally landed at your inner thighs. You were now sure he saw how wet you are, dripping through the panties.

"Fuck," he let out a sigh when he saw the mess you made on your underwear. "You're so predictable." His laugh filled the room followed by a gasp when his fingers touched your clothed cunt.

"D'you like it?" He raised his eyebrows, not taking his eyes off of your cunt. You nodded to answer his question, gripping the bed sheet from the frustration you felt. If Hobie won’t pleasure in the next few minutes you swear you were going to go crazy and do it yourself. Your irritation wasn’t hard to see and Hobie decide to spare you from the torture. You could barely catch him kneeling and ripping of your panties, throwing them away to the pile of clothes from earlier days. Your wet cunt now revealed to him and exposed to the chilly air in the room.

“Fuck,” he breathed out his hands spreading your legs further from each other. You lifted your head to watch him, finding him laying between your legs and taking one of his bigger rings, holding it between his thumb and his middle finger. You were confused at first as to why he took it off until you felt him slide it down your dripping clit. The coldness of the ring sent shivers down your spine and made you tremble.

“Jesus, Hobie.” You gasped, his cold ring still touching your slit. Head falling into the pillows you let yourself relax while Hobie kept working on your cunt with his ring. You could feel his breath, his lips, and his tongue so close to your soaked clit.

Hobie liked seeing you struggle under his touch, but he couldn’t feel sad for torturing you, so he quickly pressed his lips against you, drawing a moan out of you. He could drown between your legs, thighs crushing him. As if you already weren’t a mess, he added a finger, circling your wet core to coax it to loosen. “When you’re away I daydream about this.” His deep voice sent vibrations through your cunt, making you groan his name out. He took advantage of you being distracted by his words to shove his finger inside of you, your moans spreading across the room. His tongue stopped the movements on your clit, quickly being replaced by his thumb. As much as he loved tasting you and devouring your cunt, he wanted to watch you quiver underneath him. Under his fingers. So needy to be fulfilled.

Adding another finger to stretch you out, you grab his arm to stable yourself as your eye roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed by his finger pumping in and out of you. “Like it? Fucking your cunt with my fingers?” he asked, mockingly, smiling at you trembling, all because of his fingers.

“Yes, fuck.” You cried out, Hobie’s fingers speeding, curing inside of you hitting all the right stops. He was sure people outside the apartment could hear your cries, and he loved the idea of them knowing you were getting fucked and used by him. All his to take.

“So desperate,” he laughs at you, stopping his fingers but leaving them inside of you. Your head flew up, your face filled with confusion and frustration. You were so close, he could feel it, but he decided to let you cum only around his cock. He made the decisions tonight. You did as he said.

Without answering he took you by the waist and turned you around, on all fours, ass up. You tried to calm your breath and compose yourself, mad he didn’t let you cum. You felt the heat in your stomach fading away as you waited for Hobie to take you. You practically begged for him, crying for his dick to fill you up.

“Music to my ears.” He whispered into your ear, moving back behind you, admiring the view. Your ass ready to be fucked, your cunt wet, walls clenching around nothing. “All mine,” he murmured, and you could hear him playing with his belt, his pants falling to the floor.

“Yours.” You confirmed, resting your head on your hands, pleading for him to finally fuck you and use your cunt like he did many nights ago. You know he’s just toying with you, testing your patience which is about to run out. You hear his silent laugh and the next thing you know; his cock is spreading you out, deep inside of your cunt. The delicious stretch draws a moan out of you, your head covered in the pillows.

He waits for a few seconds, letting you adjust him before he starts thrusting into you, slowly starting to pick up speed. His hands on your waist, cold rings touching your skin, and his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck, could do this all day.” He moans, his thrusts becoming faster and rougher. "Feels good?" he asks as he leans in to grab your hair and pull it back. "Getting fucked by me." He continues, not stopping fucking you hard, his thick cock spreading you out, tears streaming down your face from the pleasure. You couldn't even speak, as his cock kept sliding in and out of you, only focused on how good he felt inside of you.

"Like being used by me, huh." He knew you loved it. He knew how much you liked being called degradatory names, letting him spread your cunt and fuck you senseless. One of your favorite thing to do.

"Yes, Hobie," you screamed out as his cock hit your cervix hard, deeper now than ever before. His one hand still pulls your hair as his other keep your ass in place so he can pound into you like crazy. "Fucking love it when you use me like that." You let out between moans, closing your eyes,

"Fucking whore," He doesn't stop as he slides his finger under your belly to feel himself in you. The pressure of it makes your walls clench, orgasm approaching. You don't even notice his hand moves down until you feel him rubbing your sensitive clit. You were still so wet, basically dripping to the bedsheets.

"Such a good whore for taking my cock like that," he says out loud, pulling you up to press your back against his chest. His hand quickly travels up to hold your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples as he fucks into you deeper, knowing he's gonna cum soon too. "Your pussy feels so good around me." Whispering in your ear, biting into your earlobe. His cold piercing tickles your neck, making you shiver. You feel overstimulated, but it only brings you closer to your peak.

"Your fucking whore. Fuck me like your personal toy." Tears coming down from your eyes, enjoying the way Hobie fucks you like you're his personal sex toy. Like you're his possession and only he can fuck you like that.

"That's right, you're mine. Mine to take and fuck." He growls into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy, alerting you he's close to orgasm. And you are too, as your knees start to give up and your body weakens, under Hobie's restless cock spreading you out fast and hard.

"Fill me up, Hobie." As on command, he cums into you, filling you up with his seed. You follow him right after, falling back to your bed, letting the pleasure take over. Hobie doesn't hold you anymore and lets your knees give up on you. His cum dripping down from your cunt mixed with your own. Ass red, hair, messy, and nail marks on your hips. Marked as his. Mark as his to take.

You lay there for a few minutes, the body still trembling from the hard orgasm, until you feel Hobie fall next to you, cloth in his hands. He also looks tired, his cheeks red and eyes lighter now. You lift yourself to move closer to him, your lips meeting his.

"Thank you, Hobes." Smiling against his lips, you feel his hand move to your lower back.

"Ask more often, please. Feels fucking awesome." He jokes, now playing with your sweaty hair, which reminds him. "Look like shit, we need a shower."

[honeyedclementine]

darling, come back to sleep

sevika x f!reader, fluff, post-s1/no s2 spoilers, established relationship (one shot, 1k words) ageless blogs, minors & men dni

reply to be added to my tag list ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

sevika has slept less and less since taking over for silco. even when she did make it home to your shared apartment—usually long after your day had ended, she would pace around the living room, muttering to herself. on a rare night would she make it to bed, tossing and turning against your sleeping form.

you understood the stress of the job, you yourself had worked beneath the man, though your job for him was never as important as sevika's. you kept fairly normal hours, usually just manning the books until you had everything orderly enough to call it a day. sometimes, on an easier day, sevika would sit in your office while you pored over a ledger, reading glasses low on the tip of your nose. these days, though, she was more often than not locked up in silco's old office, lamenting the mess he left behind.

you even took it upon yourself to fix her arm for her—with a bit of jinx's input, of course. you figured it would be a small comfort for your girlfriend, another thing she didn't have to worry about.

this was a rare night she actually made it to bed. you were just on the verge of falling asleep when she sunk down into the soft sheets, a weary sigh passing through her lips as she laid down with her back to you. without hesitating, you rolled over and wrapped your arm around her waist, tugging her closer to you. you felt her tense for a brief moment—even though you'd been together for what seems like forever, she seems to have her moments where being on the receiving end of affection is a surprise. after a brief moment, though, she relaxes into your touch and you wonder if tonight will be easy.

however, something causes you to stir long before the rise of the sun. you reach over to the other side of the bed, finding it empty with the sheets still warm. well, at least she hasn't been up for long, you sigh to yourself, rubbing sleep from your eyes and sitting up. you listen for the sound of her meandering—sometimes she paces through the living room or pours herself a drink. when you hear nothing, though, you climb out of bed and head for her small office.

you were originally against the idea of her bringing work home with her, but after a few nights where she didn't come home at all, you decided this was a well enough compromise.

sure enough, as you stand in the doorway, wrapping your arms around your torso to combat the cool chill of the season, you find sevika poring over something on her desk. there's no light in the room except for a dim table lamp that casts a green glow among her face; expression contorted into one of confusion and frustration.

"darling, please come back to bed," you sigh, hating how desperate you sound. it's not that it makes you angry or sad to not have her at your disposal, you just hate watching her burn herself out. "if it's not getting solved now, it can wait until morning."

"everything is time sensitive these days," sevika grumbles. at the very least, she doesn't have a glass of whiskey in her hand. so, it is a better night than most. "smeech is on my ass, i need to figure this out."

you're almost about to give up—to return to your empty bed and pray she makes it back by dawn, but something in you is tired tonight and misses her warmth. you approach her desk, noting the way her soft gray eyes flick up to you, watching your every move. you place your hands against the wood, eyes flitting down to the papers she's looking at, but you're too tired to comprehend what she's working on. you can see her exhaustion in her eyes.

cautiously, you bring a gentle hand to her chin, rubbing your thumb lightly over her scarred cheek. "you know why you can't figure it out right now? because you haven't slept in weeks. get some rest, look at it with fresh eyes in the morning."

sevika looks up at you, expression weary, but you can tell she's close to giving in. she leans into your palm, tilting her head and kissing the soft flesh. you take the moment to brush your fingers through the nape of her neck—a spot you know will hit just right for her.

"come to bed, baby," you try again. "i'll kill smeech myself if i have to, i miss sleeping with my girlfriend."

"i'd believe you if you let me train you with anything other than a butter knife," she retorts, grabbing your wrist and pressing one more kiss to it before tugging your hand away. for a moment, you think she's going to keep working and you prepare yourself for the disappointment.

"it's not a butter knife, thank you very much, we can't all have big scary metal arms as a default weapon," you tease. she surprises you by rising to her feet, towering slightly over you, and reaching for the lamp. the room goes dark and you reach for her flesh hand, thumb going over her pulse the way you always do—you like to feel it beneath your fingers, a reminder that through it all, you're both still here.

"come on," she nods towards the door, letting you tug her along back to your bedroom.

you continue forward with a satisfied smile on your face, dragging her back under the sheets. this time, she reaches for you and lets you settle against her chest, your face in the crook of her neck. with your weight on her, you can hear the steady beat of her heart and feel the pace of her breathing.

determined not to let her get up again, you wait for her breathing to even out, tracing out soft patterns on her skin as you do so. as soon as she's asleep, you let your eyes flutter closed.

sevika gets a little bit better at coming to bed after that.

[industrations]

one thing about your art which makes me uncomfortable is you make remus conventionally attractive. the fandom all agree remus lupin is a wet noodle of a man but actually no artist draws him that and it's getting weird. make him unattractive and he can be loved by sirius. he doesn't need to be that tall and buff like why do you always make him so tall to draw him next to sirius. is it because you're aware of the fact sirius is canonically tall? if so it's baffling indi, you just had the surgery but if you have some time you'd want to read it - www.tumblr.com/carlav-blogs/741256502359228416/i-hate-joining-the-fandom-discourse-because-i?source=share - and look deep inside of yourself and think again about your art. i know you can't publish it but i gotcha. good luck /gen

Hello!

I have been thinking about responding to this at all but it seems like i have a lot to say, so here goes.

Due to contrary belief i draw for myself. I draw for me because i enjoy it and it makes me happy. And if it makes others happy then thats a lovely bonus. I draw because i love the bit of magic and creative freedom of being able to put that on paper.

What i don’t do is draw for other people to give me validation or to give them satisfaction. What’s getting weird is that you are so upset over characters that are written by a terf. Someone that is extremely harmful. Characters that DO NOT EXIST.

I’m sick of this endless debate of "oh but CANONICALLY sirius was taller" who the fuck cares. In the movies remus had like a whole head on sirius.

You know whats the one wonderful thing about this fandom? Every single artists and writers version of these characters. They take them and make them their own. I love the way i can read 10 wolfstar fics and all ten of them are wildly different versions of them. They fall in love with each other unconditionally and i with them.

I’ve been told I’m not valid, that i don’t deserve to exist, that i should have DIED in surgery. There is really vile and hateful people in this fandom but you know what. I’m not here for you, my art isn’t for you it’s for ME.

I would like to say I resent this fandom but it’s brought me so much joy as well. I’ve met some of the most talented and wonderful people. I met my very best friend because of this fandom. I traveled places to see people i love because of dead gay wizards. I have found a place that is so wonderfully accepting. A queer community that I will never have in real life. The amount of freedom and expression is something that drew me in and will make me stay.

I hope you get the day you deserve, and I will continue my life where I live it for me and no one else <3

[marsprincess889]

Astrology rant

I hope astro blogs and astro lovers read this

...

Hi guys I hope you're doing well🤍

These months(17 of them?) of running an astro blog have made me see a variety of opinions regarding a lot of things, mainly_ astrology.

I want to say that this is obviously social media and it's barely a solid, reliable place for sharing or getting info, but on the other side of this, the freedom of internet and, at least relative anonimity can produce truly remarkable insights/statements that you won't see anywhere else. You can never know how true or untrue someone can be unless you really read what they've written(or listen to what they've recorded) and take it in.

But it is still so rare for me to find a blog that shares most of my views. I mean, anyone with an access to internet can start an astrology blog. It's so easy to copy and paste articles on the internet and put them here. They can get thousands of notes and people will believe them and share that unverified info that's been distorted through copying and repetition, to others(which is a whole another, very sad story).

And on most days I just mind my business and work on myself, not wanting to even go close to that energy. I might politely comment on posts that seem false to me, just expressing my suspicions or opinions and asking for theirs in return, but to be very honest, I am tired of seeing the same faulty takes and overall approach. So here are some things that, to me, are just ???? so questionable to say the least(with added reasons):

1. Mixing Vedic and Western

In many ways.

Outer planets that are only used in Western? Sure, here are descriptions and "observations" of them in Vedic nakshatras.

Asteroids that Vedic does not look at? Here are explanations of them in nakshatras too. (But there's an exception that I talk about later)

Western composite and synastry aspects? Yeah here is their analysis based on Vedic charts.

And so many more.

It's not a question of whether their "formulas" mix or not, but a question of integrity and of what you follow.

2. Nakshatras in D9(navamsa) and other divisional charts (!)

Whyyyyyy. Just tell me why.

I don't think anyone who uses nakshatras in any divisional chart has really thought about it.

And before they make say to me something like "you should be open minded" or "people resonate with it"(people are complex and can resonate to many things but nakshatras in divisional charts are not the explanation behind that), they should just read my post on my pinned masterlist about that.

Like I'm this 🤏 close to launching an inquisition to just call out every blog who does this, because it's alarming how many people can defend an illogical point with such unwillingness to see the opposite take.

I feel strongly about this one and I kinda judge people who go with it.

There are no nakshatrs in D9 cause divisional signs are hypothetical, nakshatras are actual stars in the sky. Case closed.

3. Asteroid obsession

Look guys, I love asteroids as much as the next person, if not more. And it makes sense for astrology lovers to be really into asteroids, since astrology is mythological already and asteroids open up a whole variety of different mythological associations and, with them, the potential of embodying them.

But here's where most people can reach error: asteroids cannot be holding the same influence/power as other planets.

There are so many posts with lengthy descriptions of asteroid placements in signs, houses or them aspecting planets with sextiles, trines(those aspects don't matter in most cases when it comes to asteroids).

I think asteroids only ever really hold power if they are closely(4 degrees at most) conjunct or opposite big three or other important planets, and important planets/points are unique to each chart. Asteroid interpretation requires realness with yourself and others and, more importantly, common sense. And yeah, you can interpret them in nakshatras ONLY IF they are tightly conjunct an important planet and you have some examples.

I've seen a lot of obsession with asteroids such as Lilith, Aphrodite, Sirene, Groom, Briede.

Yeah online astrology can generate the need to compare yourself to others, which is silly, cause all charts are unique and have a unique beauty, and there's no such things as "more" or "less" unique anything.

4. Making stuff up

Ok here I'm talking about takes that are barely backed by valid examples.

Like when a blog attributes a theme or a pattern to a placement that has not a lot in common with its original association and/or is backed by examples that are not really viable.

Like when someone says: "Ashwini is associated with .......(insert some specific scenario/trope). Examples: *this actor*_ mars in Ashwini, *this actress*_ D9 ketu in Ashwini(are you for real...), *this person*_ their D393747838 Mercury in Ashwini, time unspecified so might be Bharani."

I know this sounds exaggerated(the last example obviously is) but I've really seen blogs where mars or venus or mercury(jupiter and saturn too) are used as exmaples for a nakshatra. And I've seen a whole blog that focuses on D60 ketu nakshatras a lot.

Now, I think that stems from a desire to associate specific feelings/vibes and themes that they are into with placements that they most likely have, in a way that feels original. But you can't just take vague feelings/suspicions and present them as logical observations or facts, it doesn't work like that😭

A lot of "vibes" or feelings that I had about nakshatras did turn out to be true, but I had to wait to find proof myself, and sometimes the observations can change a little after discovering solid examples and it makes it all clear.

5. Shallow Stereotyping

I know, astrology is built on "strerotypes", but to me they're more archetypes.

A lot of narrow stereotyping can come from more influential astrologers.

This is especially common in Vedic astrology and with people who follow Claire Nakti.

For example, with her, I love how she uses art and real life people as examples but she too can make mistakes. And she has, and if she discovers them, she adds them as disclaimers in her descriptions.

I think sometimes she can be narrow with her observations, which isn't necessarily bad, but when people see those as undisputably true and more important than their own or other astrologers' observations, then it is.

For example, she made 3 videos about Bharani but I still think she missed some important themes because she was stuck on providing more and more detail for the same point😭

Trusting influential astrologers blindly and quoting/paraphrasing them to prove their own points is a real epidemic.

Just fyi, crediting them while proving their point with your own examples is not the same.

So, anyone can make mistakes, and everyone should be open to changing their mind, but never without real examples and proof.

6. Style over substance

Possibly the biggest problem that is the root of most of other problems in this "community".

The reason why astrology became pop is because of simplifications and, more importantly, flashy images and words.

I've already made a post about how harmful I think the irresponsibility of sharing faulty astrological info is. I'm disturbed by all that manic energy around a thing that should be low-pressure but valid and educational.

I don't think astrology is meant to help you make desicions in a direct way, or to be used as the ultimate filter to judge others and look at the world. It's not the end-all be-all truth at all, not at all. But it is something that a lot of people take seriously and I just have little to no respect for blogs that use AI or don't care for logic or facts.

People here can argue and defend AI in astrology😭 they can irresponsibly make contradictory statements, have no verified observations of their own whatsoever and still act like the expert while interacting or posting.

That's all I wanna say about this right now.

...

Comment, reblog, message me, like even, whatever. I want to know what others think about any of this.

[strry4sprkz]

I'm so so glad I found another blog that writes for Project Eden's Garden!! ヘ⁠（⁠。⁠□⁠°⁠）⁠ヘ

If it's alright— may I request a fluff scenario that involves Damon, Diana, Wenona and Wolfgang where regardless of gender they decide to pair up together to share dormitories?

Happy writing!!

— Gh0styCr1tter. 👽

Damon, Diana, Wenona, and Wolfgang sharing a dorm with Reader

Damon Maitsu

When the topic of sharing dorms had sparked among the students, you immediately thought of someone you’d both like to keep your eye on and get to know better: Damon Maitsu, whose eyes flickered across the hallway with annoyance and disapproval, like he was silently judging everyone there.  

Carefully, you approached him. He looked up to face you, his eyes narrowing. “What do you want?” he asked, his tone dripping with irritation.

“I think we should dorm together,” you stated, crossing your arms. “We’ll both be much safer, and have alibis for the night.”

Damon shifted his gaze down, his expression unreadable, but you could see the shift once he’d understood the practical reasoning behind sharing a dorm, combined with the fact he had no one else to partner with.

“...Fine. I’d rather deal with someone who can handle themselves, unlike…” He didn’t need to continue for you to know exactly who he was talking about. “Haha… glad we’re on the same page.” you laughed.  

As the two of you settled into Damon’s dorm, the room was silent other than the sounds of you two settling your things. Of course, Damon was the first to break it, turning to look you in the eye.

“Hey, don’t…jinx this, or anything.” he spoke firmly, but there was the smallest hint of anxiety in his voice. “I won’t, Damon, I promise. This is the best decision for both of us” you assured. He sighed, but didn’t argue any further, and as the silence of the room crept back up once more, you allowed yourself a small smile you knew he wouldn’t see.

Diana Venicia

“Hii!” You opened your door, and were met with Diana Venicia standing in front of you with her usual cheery smile. “So, I was wondering…don’t you think it would be good to dorm together for the night? I promise it’ll make things less scary for both of us…”

Truthfully, her presence seemed quite out of place in the morbid situation you were trapped in, but there was something about it that made you feel at ease. You paused to think, but eventually accepted. “...Alright. Wouldn’t hurt to be as safe as possible.”

“Awesome!” she clasped her hands together, her casualty almost contagious.

When the two of you finally got settled in Diana’s dorm, you watched as she unpacked her makeup bag that she always carried with her, laying its contents out neatly on the desk. 

“Sorry, I have to make sure all my supplies stay in perfect condition. You never know when someone might need to use makeup!” she half-joked. You weren’t sure what she was implying by that, but you brushed it off.

Diana sat on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with slight worry on her face.  “You know…” she began, “this whole situation… it’s terrifying. I won’t lie about that. But I really do believe we’ll all make it out of here, together.” The sincerity in her voice caught you off guard. “You really think so?” you asked. 

She turned to you, her expression a bit lighter this time. “Yeah! And if I ever start to lose hope, I’ll just remind myself I’ve got you, right?” You grinned back at her. “Right. You have me, Diana.” “Good,” she said, settling back against the headboard. “I knew I could count on you.” You couldn’t help but feel grateful for her, too.

Wenona

Wenona wasn’t the most friendly or approachable person, but she was logical and composed. If anything, sharing a dorm with her meant ensuring both of your safeties. You took a breath and made your way over to her. “Wenona?”

She noticed you immediately, her icy eyes locking with yours as you approached. “Let me guess, you want to be a dorm pair?” she assumed smugly. “Tell me, what exactly will you bring to the table? If you think I’ll tolerate dead weight, you’re quite mistaken.”  

You sighed, knowing you would need to match her energy if you wanted to convince her. “I’m here to survive, like you. Sharing a dorm will make sure both of us are safe and have alibis. I won’t get in your way, I promise.” 

Her smug grin faded, and you could almost see the gears turning in her head. “Hm…I suppose partnering with someone who shares my priorities is… preferable to one of these wrecks." She gestured vaguely at the more panicked students.

“Great!” you managed to keep your composure, but you were extremely grateful for her acceptance. Wenona then stated in a challenging manner, “But don’t mistake this for anything more than a practical arrangement. I’ll be expecting you to hold up your end of the bargain.”

You chuckled softly. “You always have to negotiate….” The two of you had arrived at Wenona’s dorm when the time came, discussing the situation and whatnot. “When you’ve spent as much time in business as I have, you’ll learn to recognize efficiency and inefficiency when you see them.” Wenona said, her hands in her jacket pockets. You surrendered “Fair enough…”

“Though I must say, pairing with you isn’t entirely insufferable.” she admitted, calm and calculated as ever. You smiled. “Thanks. I’m glad you agreed.”

“This is still solely a matter of convenience.” she firmly said, though there was a lack of her usual attitude in her tone. “Right.” you responded. Despite her words, you could feel there was beginning to be a subtle understanding between the two of you.

Wolfgang Akire

“It’s troubling,” Wolfgang began, “how easily fear can cloud judgment.” He’d been sharing his thoughts regarding his trust among the students non-stop after you’d agreed to share his dorm. You didn’t mind, as you didn’t exactly have something better to be doing at the moment.

“We’ve managed to keep things under control for the past few days, even if there’s been some tension. I guess trust really did outweigh our fear...” you pointed out.

He seemed slightly caught off guard by your sudden agreement. “That’s why I’m glad to be sharing a dorm with you, Mx. Trust is rare in situations like this, but I believe it’s the foundation of survival. If we can see reasoning past our fear, I’ve no doubt we’ll be able to navigate whatever challenges occur in the academy.”

“You really do want to believe in everyone, huh?” you asked, curious.

He smiled faintly, fastening his necktie. “I do. We’ve all been accepted here for our capabilities to improve society. Even in our current circumstances, I believe in the integrity of Ultimate students.”

“That’s right….thank you.” you responded. While you weren’t completely sure whether Wolfgang’s theories were correct, you couldn't deny to yourself that could use some optimism in this time.

a/n: I really wanted to make a joke about Wolfgang being hella disorganized in this but I couldn’t figure out where to put it, oh well

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Left at the Altar - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / (Ex-Girlfriend) Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Light Angst; Drama; Getting Left at the Altar (Not by Hangman); Asshole Ex (Not Hangman); Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Physical Description for the Reader

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.

Edit: Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue

Master List

Ever hit rock bottom? Well, you thought you did. And then you got stood up at your own wedding.

Staring up at the altar, you slowly sat down in the front pew. You sat your bouquet down beside you and reached up to pull out the pins holding your veil in place. You definitely weren’t going to need them. Not after the text message that you received from your ex-fiancé.

That’s right. You got dumped on your wedding day through a text message.

And frankly, the part about the whole situation that annoyed you the most was the fact that you should have been the one to dump him. You were the one who threatened to call the wedding off months ago when you found some suspicious text messages between your fiancé and a woman labelled as ‘Domino’s’ in his phone.

As if anyone texted Domino’s about their secluded lake house.

You should have just pulled the plug on the whole thing when you had the chance. Instead, you let him dump and humiliate you publicly.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the small church. Most of the guests filed out when it became apparent that there was a runaway groom. All of the people that remained in the church were a few close friends and immediate family members.

Your ex-fiancé’s family stood awkwardly in the corner, not really sure what to do. There wasn’t a really good or efficient way to apologize for their cowardly bastard of a son without suffering some rather intense glares from your family and friends. You already gave the engagement ring back to your ex-fiancé’s mom, since it was supposedly a family heirloom.

Maybe you should have just flushed it down the toilet instead.

You looked forward again when your mom walked over to you. She gave you a small, comforting smile as she pushed your veil and bouquet to the side and sat down beside you. Your mom stared up at the altar for a moment, seemingly walking through what she was going to say to you. She reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she whispered to you. “You’ll get past this.”

“I know,” you replied, nodding slowly. “I know, Mom.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No,” you replied softly, shaking your head. Letting out a breath, you turned back to your mom with a composed expression. “Why don’t you and everyone else go and eat at the venue? It’d be stupid to let all of that food go to waste. We already paid for it.”

“Actually, his family offered to pay for everything. Even your dress,” your mom explained, glancing over at your supposed-to-be in laws. “They were extremely embarrassed.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you drawled sarcastically, shaking your head. You let out a breath before you turned back to your mom. “Has Dad calmed down?”

“Somewhat. He calmed down a lot when they offered to pay for everything. But I worry for your ex if he ever crosses paths with your father again.”

“If he’s smart—which he’s not—he’ll avoid the entire county,” you replied, pursing your lips together. “He’s probably sitting at his lake house with ‘Domino’s’ right now.”

“That’s unfortunate for him,” your mom told you, causing you to nod in return.

“Damn straight.”

You and your mom shared a small smile before you sobered up for a moment. Glancing around the church, you leaned back in your pew. You turned to your mom and suddenly felt like you were a teenager again and needed her to help you with a situation that you got yourself in.

“Do you think that I could be alone for a bit?” you asked softly, folding your arms across your lap.

“Are you sure? I don’t think that you should be alone right now, sweetheart,” your mom replied, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you just come to the venue with the rest of us? You can burn the dress if you want to, but just come with us.”

“I will, Mom, but I just need some time by myself for a little bit.”

Albeit reluctantly, your mom got up and ushered everyone else out of the church to give you some time alone. The venue was only ten minutes down the road, so your mom told you to just text her when you wanted to be picked up. You thanked her again for all of her help and support before she left with everyone else.

You slowly got to your feet after you thought that everyone else was gone. You let out a breath to calm yourself down and simply worked through some thoughts. Eventually turning for the aisle, you paused when you spotted a familiar figure walking through the church doorway.

Jake Seresin. Or Jacob Michael Seresin III, if you were going by his birth name. Or Hangman, as he supposedly went by these days. Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

The boy that you fell in love with when you were fifteen. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first everything, really. The man that, had he stayed in Texas and taken over his family’s business like he was expected to do, you probably would have already married.

But life wasn’t a fairytale. And certainly not your life.

Jake slowly walked further into the church, pulling off his dress white cap as he stepped forward. He tucked it under his arm and offered you a small smile as he stopped in front of you. His hair was perfectly gelled and styled and his dress whites were absolutely pristine. And that genuine smile, the one that he seemed to use less and less as he aged, was just like you remembered.

He looked like he stepped straight out of a dream. Out of your dream.

“I’m not too late, am I?” he asked, looking around the otherwise empty church.

“No,” you scoffed, shaking your head. You glanced up at the rafters before turning back to him. “I got left at the altar.”

Instantly, the kind, genuine smile dropped from Jake’s face. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He frowned and opened his mouth before pausing, most likely trying to not just blurt out the first words that came to mind in a church. But his entire stance looked like he was ready to storm out of the church to drag your fiancé out of whatever hole he was hiding in.

“He didn’t show up?” Jake asked with his voice dangerously low.

“No, he sent me a text,” you explained quietly. Letting out a laugh that was meant to be humorous, but was really rather pathetic in reality, you looked away from Jake for a moment. “I mean, at least I didn’t marry him. It could be worse.”

“Where is he then?”

“Somewhere, anywhere,” you replied honestly, pursing your lips together. “Frankly, I never want to see him or hear his name ever again, so I could care less.”

“Still, he shouldn’t get away with doing this to you,” Jake stated seriously.

It had a level of force behind it that you knew wasn’t directed towards you. More like on your behalf than anything else.

Hell, Jake had always been protective over you and more than willing to fight for you. He wasn’t someone who kept a lot of close friends, but when anyone was within Jake Seresin’s inner circle, he would fight for them with everything that he had. And you knew that the state of your relationship didn’t impact that.

“He’s not worth the trouble,” you stated, waving your hand to the side. “And besides, I’d really just like to move on from all of this. If I can.”

“Of course, you can,” Jake spoke softly, reaching out to take your hand. “He’s just a . . . I can’t say the word that I want to say because we’re standing in a church.” You laughed and shook your head at Jake. “But either way, it’s his loss.”

“Thanks Jake.”

“I’m serious. I mean, any guy who looks at you, especially when you’re in that dress . . .” Jake trailed off, letting his eyes rake over your form, “. . . and doesn’t hope to be the guy standing there, waiting for you at the altar . . . he’s not worth your time.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, just like it used to whenever he would wave to you in the hallway between classes when you two were teenagers. And staring into Jake’s bright green eyes, you knew that he meant every word that he spoke. Rocking your joined hands back and forth, you tried to settle the wobble in your lips.

“I didn’t want it to be him,” you stated honestly, causing Jake to noticeably pick his head up. “He . . . I gave into the pressure that I should be married and moving into that stage of my life by now and . . . I should have never agreed to marry him in the first place.”

Jake nodded slowly and turned to look at the ground. A moment passed where he seemed to be trying to compose himself before he slowly picked his head up again.

“Who did you want it to be?” Jake asked softly, so softly that you didn’t hear it the first time.

“What?”

“Who did you want it to be?” he repeated, picking his head up and staring deeply into your eyes. “Waiting for you at the altar, I mean.”

Your breathing subtly picked up and your lips parted a bit at Jake’s question. And the intensity of his stare that made your entire body feel like it was on fire. Slowly and tentatively reaching out, you gently cupped Jake’s cheek with your hand and rubbed your thumb across his soft skin.

“My answer hasn’t changed,” you stated quietly as emotion started to clog your throat. “It never has.”

The two of you naturally leaned towards each other. Your bodies seemed to naturally fit together as you pressed up together. The two of you slowly leaned in until your foreheads rested together. And when he was standing this close, you could pick out all of the different colors in his eyes, which were staring down at your lips.

Gently cupping the back of your neck, Jake pulled you in for a soft kiss. Your lips moved together like they had never been parted in the first place. Not by school or deployments or life in general. For much of your adult lives, the issue was never your feelings for each other but everything else getting in the way. But right there, in that small little church in rural Texas, life wasn’t in the way.

Nothing and no one were in the way. Not anymore.

Jake dropped his hat and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and cupped his cheek once again, guiding your lips together. It probably would have gotten you disapproving looks if anyone else was around, but for that perfect little moment, it was just the two of you.

Pulling away a few moments later, you rested your foreheads against each other’s and smiled to yourselves. Breathing a bit heavily, you trailed your fingers down Jake’s cheeks as he brushed his nose against your own.

“When do you have to leave?” you asked quietly.

“Tomorrow morning,” Jake sighed, clearly sounding disappointed. “I could barely get any time off. I actually owe Coyote a laundry list of things because he covered for me.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” you replied, trying to look on the positive side.

About ten seconds later, you and Jake hurried out of the church hand-in-hand. Jake’s rented truck was the only car in the parking lot and you both quickly made a beeline for it. Jake unlocked and opened the door for you to climb inside. You sat down and Jake hurried to push the rest of your dress inside before shutting the door.

You pulled him in for another excited kiss as he slid into the driver’s seat before Jake started his rented truck to drive the two of you to the hotel. As Jake backed out of the parking lot, you sent your mom a quick text, which was just a simple photo of Jake.

“Do you have the directions to the hotel?” Jake asked, turning back around and heading for the road.

“Yeah and the confirmation, so we can actually check in,” you mused, smiling over at him.

As Jake pulled out onto the road, you got a text back from your mom. You let out an amused noise and shook your head when you read her message.

Don’t forget protection. Or do. I wouldn’t mind a grandbaby if you two agreed on one. Love you!

You sent your mom a quick ‘love you’ text back before turning off your notifications. Jake reached out and grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together. Jake pulled your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

And even though this wasn’t how you expected your wedding day to go, you had to admit that this outcome was actually far better than the one you that had in mind.

Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue

[mysticalmallard]

♥︎ Spending the night for the first time ♥︎

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

🦆: This is a new thing I'm trying, group drabbles, so I can write for more characters at once with the same scenario to challenge myself to make each drabble unique from the others....let me know if you want more like this and what scenario you want next ♥︎

♡ This one includes: Tig Trager, Herman Kozik, Jax Teller, Opie Winston, Chibs Telford, Juice Ortiz, Happy Lowman ♡

-> MainMasterlist <- ♡ -> SoA Masterlist <-

Tig Trager

He yawns as he looks at the clock on the wall, noticing the time.

"Damn, it's late. You can take the bed, darlin'. I'll just crash on the couch."

He heads over to the couch and falls, landing on his back. He kicks his legs back and forth dramatically, getting comfortable.

"You don't have to do that Tiggy, is your bed not big enough for two?" She giggles

He smiles and sighs.

"Oh no, it is. I just didn't want you to feel awkward or nothin'. But if you don't mind sharing the bed, I don't mind at all."

He stands and walks into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed.

"But I do wanna warn you. Snorings a huge problem of mine."

He grins, looking up at her.

"And I'm a bit of a cuddler, too."

she laughs, joining him in bed

Tig lays down, pulling her to him. He sighs, resting his chin on top of her head.

Herman Kozik

Koziks girlfriend was spending the night at his place for the first time, and she was both excited and nervous. As she got ready for bed, she couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious in just a oversized T-shirt and panties. "Do I look okay like this?" she asked Kozi, who was already in bed.

Kozi looked up from his phone and smiled warmly. "You look perfect," he reassured her. "I like seeing you in my clothes." He patted the bed next to him. "C'mere."

She smiled back and climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up against his side. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Relax," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You being here is all I care about."

Kozik chuckled and gave her a playful nudge. "You're so tense. What are you worried about? we've shared a bed before and you know i don't bite... unless you ask me to." His eyes glinted with mischief as he gave her a wink.

She laughed, some of the tension in her body easing at his joke. "I don't know," she admitted, pressing her face into his shoulder. "I guess I just want everything to be perfect. I don't want to mess this up."

Kozi's expression softened. He stroked her hair gently and said, "Hey, there's no such thing as perfect. And you're not gonna mess anything up. I want you here with me, that's all. Just be yourself, and we'll figure it out together, okay?"

Jax Teller

Jax had been seeing his new girlfriend for a few weeks now, and he was falling for her hard. But he was a man who was used to living a certain way, and he knew that spending the night together would change things.

He had a rule - he never let women stay over. But he wanted her to, this time.

He watched her as she got ready to leave, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her body. She looked so beautiful, her hair down and cascading down her back, but there was something deeper than just physical desire.

As she looked up at him, he saw a vulnerability in her expression that tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted to have her close, to protect her, to wake up with her in his arms.

"Stay tonight. Stay with me." His voice was soft and low, the words coming out more like a plea than a demand. Jax knew he was taking a chance by breaking his own rule, but it felt right. The connection he had with her was different from anything he'd ever experienced before.

She looked slightly taken aback by his suggestion. She hadn't expected him to ask her to stay, but now that he had, she found herself contemplating the idea. Staying the night seemed like a big step, a move that would bring them closer together. She knew that if she agreed, things would never be the same between them.

She looked back and forth between his eyes, her expression a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. She had never seen this more vulnerable side of Jax before. For a long moment, it seemed like she was contemplating what to do.

Then, slowly, she nodded her head, her mouth curving up into a small smile. "Okay. I'll stay."

Opie Winston

Opie had never been one for emotional attachments they just didn't seem like a good investment anymore. But then she walked into his life. He hadn't been expecting it, but he found himself drawn to her, the way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she carried herself.

And now, after weeks of dating, he felt something shift. He found himself wanting her to stay the night. It was a big step for him. It would be the first time sleeping next to someone since Donna.

He nervously cleared his throat, looking down at his hands as he spoke. "So, I know we've been dating for a while now, and things are going pretty well, right? And I was thinking... well, I don't know, maybe you could stay the night? Tonight?"

The words came out more like a question than a statement, and he didn't look up to meet her eye. He was feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable, and he didn't know how she would react.

The silence that hung in the air between them felt like an eternity, and Opie couldn't bear to look up. He braced himself for rejection, ready to laugh it off and brush it off as a joke. But just as he was about to speak, he heard her voice.

"I'd like that."

The words were simple, but they were like a breath of fresh air to him. He looked up, surprise written on his face, as if he hadn't really expected her to say yes. But there she was, smiling at him, her eyes warm and gentle.

"Really?" he asked, still a hint of disbelief in his tone. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of relief and excitement wash over him.

"Yeah." She confirmed with a laugh. "I'd love to spend the night here with you. I just wasn't sure if you were ready for something like that."

Opie exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "To be honest, I wasn't sure either," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

He reached out and took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. "But i'm ready now. I want you to stay. I want to wake up next to you."

Chibs Telford

The evening had drawn to a close and it was well after midnight. Chibs was sat on his couch with his lass, wrapped in his arms and cuddled under a blanket, the two of them watching a random movie on TV. Chibs was slowly tracing patterns on her hip with his thumb as they both stared at the screen in front of them.

“Ye staying over tonight?” He asks in a low voice, glancing down at her.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you.” She responds, tilting her head up to look into his eyes.

Chibs smiles and nods, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Absolutely.” He says, shifting to pull her tighter against his chest. “That’s fine with me.”

The movie continued on, though Chibs was more focused on his girlfriend than the plot unfolding in front of them. Every now and then, he’d place a soft kiss on her forehead or the top of her head and rub small circles on her hip.

Once the movie finally came to an end, he grabbed for the remote and shut off the TV before shifting to look down at her again. “Ready for bed, darlin’?” He asks in a low voice.

Chibs chuckles softly under his breath as he looks down at her already fast asleep, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reaches out to brush a few strands of hair out of her face before carefully maneuvering around her to pick her up in his arms bridal style.

She stirs slightly, burying her face into his chest and wrapping her arm around his neck. He carries her towards his bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot and entering the room. He sets her down on the bed carefully before going around to the other side to lay down next to her.

Chibs wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer towards him, her back pressing against his chest. He nuzzles his face into her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

As he pulls the covers up over them, he can’t help but think about how nice it was to have her there with him. It had been a while since he’d had a woman spend the night with him and he found himself getting comfortable with the idea. He places a soft kiss on the top of her head before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep with her in his arms.

Juice Ortiz

Juice laid in bed, shirtless with his boxers on. Rubbing his eyes he looked over at his phone and read the time, 10:46pm. He heard the water running in bathroom, he knew his girlfriend was taking a shower.

He groaned and tossed his phone down on the bed, he laid there staring at the ceiling patiently waiting for her to come out the bathroom.

The water finally turned off, he turned to glance at the bathroom door. He heard her humming. He rolled on his back and groaned impatiently. After 10 more minutes of waiting she came out the bathroom, with her hair in a towel already dressed Juice frowned realising he wanted her to stay.

"What are you doing?" Juice mumbled, she glanced over at him smiling. "Getting ready to go home." She stated.

Juice grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down towards him. "Stay." He mumbled with a pout.

"I can't, i have work in the morning" she pouted back, but Juice tugged her until her back was against his chest and his arm was wrapped around her waist.

"Stay the night." He mumbled into her ear.

"Juice" she whined.

"Just this once?" Juice pleaded.

She was about to protest again but his pout and puppy dog eyes made her melt. "Fine" she mumbled, rolling her eyes and juice smirked.

He kissed her shoulder and tightened his grip on her waist. "Good." He mumbled into her skin. He shifted them so they were both laying down and he was spooning her.

"Juice, you got to let me up so I can change again. I'm not sleeping in jeans," she laughs.

Juice groaned and tightened his grip. "No, stay like this." He mumbled, and she laughed some more.

"Come on, I'll be quick." She said while trying to move. Juice gripped her hips and pulled her back to his chest, wrapping his arms around her torso.

Juice buried his face in the back of her neck, inhaling her scent. He kissed a few spots and then planted one final kiss on her shoulder before mumbling against her skin. "You're not going anywhere."

Happy Lowman

Happy was in his apartment on the couch waiting for his girlfriend to arrive. It was the first time she was staying overnight, and he had spent the evening tidying the place up and making sure everything was perfect.

As the clock ticked on as he sat in silence watching it, there was a knock on the door. Happy jumped up from the couch and went to answer it. Standing on the porch was his girlfriend, drenched from the rain.

"Hey Hap, thanks again for letting me crash here I didn't wanna deal with my roommates drama tonight" she says backpack on her damp sholder.

Happy grins, admiring her wet appearance before pulling her inside and closing the door behind her. "It's no problem. I'm glad you're here."

She shivers, and he wraps his arms around her, drawing her close to him."Cold?" he asks, rubbing his hands up and down her back.

She nods, leaning into him, her body still shivering. "Freezing."

Happy smirks and leads her further into the apartment, towards the bedroom. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes then."

They enter his bedroom and he reaches out to unzip her jacket, his hands skimming over her curves as he helps her out of it. Her shirt is next, and he pulls it off over her head, exposing her bare skin to his gaze.

He tosses her one of his shirts from his draws as she pulls her jeans off. She slips the large shirt over her head and onto her body, the soft material falling down to cover her thighs.

He watches her admiringly, his eyes tracing over her figure. "You look better in my shirt than I do," he says with a smirk.

She smiles and rolls her eyes as she playfully swats at him. "Shut up."

He chuckles and pulls her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. "I mean it, you look good in anything - or nothing."

"Come on we agreed, no more fun stuff until we figure us out" she pouts looking up at him.

Happy sighs and rests his forehead against hers, knowing she's right. "Fine, no fun stuff. But that rule doesn't stop me from being able to admire you." He runs his fingers through her damp hair, his touch gentle as his hands trail down her neck and settle at her hips. He pulls her closer against him, their bodies pressing together.

"I'm still gonna enjoy having you here though," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly as he pulls her towards the bed.

They crawl into bed together, under the covers. He wraps himself around her, his strong arms enclosing her in a protective embrace. She snuggles into his chest, feeling warm and safe in his arms.

"Mmm, this is nice," she sighs, her breath fanning across his skin.

[seoulmatez]

𝓈𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇

as the crown prince's bodyguard, you've pledged to see that no harm comes to him. with a threat on the horizon, it's time to act on your word.

scaramouche x reader ﾉ 1k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ prince!scaramouche ﾉ bodyguard!reader ﾉ mentions of violence ﾉ repost from previous blog :3

Events like these have always been boring to you—nobles dressing up and putting on their facades to keep up appearances with hopes of earning the favor of the royal family. They used to be a lot more tolerable in the presence of the prince who you’ve sworn to protect with your life. Despite his cold exterior and his harsh way with words, you’ve always found him to be quite entertaining. If anyone hated outings that gave an opportunity for sucking up more than you, it would be him. Though, tonight he made a very explicit point for you to keep your distance.

He seems to have grown fed up with your constant proximity if his foul mood the past few weeks is any evidence. He’s been particularly snappy as of late and you have no idea why. You doubt you’ll be finding out any time soon—you’ve never known Scaramouche to be one to willingly share his feelings.

Even though you’ve been cast away from his side, you refuse to let him leave your sight until the event comes to a close and he’s safely escorted back to the walls of the palace. You’re sure he can feel your stare burning into the side of his head but he chooses to ignore it. 

He looks just about as thrilled as you are at having to attend this gathering. The unimpressed expression he’s been wearing ever since you arrived has yet to leave his face, even as he converses with the people of his empire. You find yourself grinning despite his behavior not being particularly fitting of a soon-to-be emperor—though, being familiar with plenty of the nobles in attendance, you understand why he doesn’t attempt to hide his distaste.

They aren’t very pleasant.

Your eyes follow Scaramouche as he makes his way through the room, the cloak draped over his shoulders drifting gracefully behind him. Time seems to slow at that moment—each of his steps lagging, the fabric around him stilling.

And then—chaos.

Smoke fills the entrance of the room, thick grey clouds billowing from the doorway. then come the panicked screams and the hurried, frantic footsteps. You’re on the move before you truly piece together just what is going on. The head of midnight blue hair you’ve been keyed in on all night is barely visible through the fumes but you follow what little sight of it you have. You can hear your blood rushing and heart thumping as you race through the crowd, shoving past the bodies of dukes and duchesses, counts and countesses.

You’re sure you’ll be in for an earful later regarding your carelessness, but there’s only one thing—one person—you care about right now.

“Your Highness!” The smoke is thicker here but you can make out his figure despite the obstruction. His hand is on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his waist but his head whips around in the direction of your voice. You reach out to grab him with the intention of dragging him away from the disarray, though, before you can reach him, another figure appears within the smoke.

It’s cloaked in darkness and in its gloved hand is a sword, one raised in the air to cut down the crown prince. Your blood boils at the thought of any harm coming to Scaramouche and you jump into action. You swap places with the prince, pulling him protectively behind you before lifting your leg to deliver a blow to the assassin’s chest.

He stumbles on his feet which gives you just enough time to draw your own sword, to point the tip of the blade at the man’s throat. “Surrender.”

Whether it’s the cool metal threatening to pierce his skin or the murderous glint in your eyes, you can’t be sure, but the man drops his weapon.

You allow the other guards to handle wrapping up the situation—calming the crowd and locking the assassin up for his crimes.

You have more pressing matters to attend to. “Your Highness, are you injured?”

“I thought I told you to stay back tonight.” Scaramouche disregards your question entirely, eyebrows knit together in frustration. His hand is balled into a fist and shaking at his side, though, you can’t tell if that’s because of the close call or it’s because he’s that angry with you for ignoring his demand.

“That man could have killed you.” It’s not a justification, but an explanation.

“I could have handled it!” he shouts.

His raised voice might have made anyone else flinch but you stand your ground. Scaramouche is your prince—his word is law and any request he makes should be treated as an order. That is usually the case but you have commands from higher above—the emperor and empress themselves—to protect their heir. And you promised to do just that, even if it may cost you your life.

“I have no doubt about that, Your Highness,” you tell him, finally taking a moment to return your sword to its scabbard. It’s then that you notice that your hands are shaking, too. Different from your speculation with Scaramouche, you can definitively say that fear is the cause of the tremors. The thought of losing your prince was an undeniably scary one. “However, it is my duty to keep you safe—whether you like it or not. Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me.”

Scaramouche’s breath catches in his throat. Your words are bold for a mere guard—he could have you dismissed and replaced with the snap of his finger if he so pleased. But as quickly as the thought comes, he dismisses it—that isn’t what he wants, anyway. Your loyalty is unwavering and he would be a fool not to accept it.

There’s no need for you to know that so Scaramouche keeps quiet. He’s been eager for this night to end since it started and the unforeseen circumstances have given him the perfect opportunity to retire early. He turns on his heel to leave the room that is still being aired out.

“Your Highness, please let me escort you to the physician.” Your voice and footsteps follow him, lingering a few steps behind.

Do you really think he needs to see a doctor? Despite his momentary inadequacy, you carried out your duties well. “That won’t be necessary. I’m fine.”

manon here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!