#and decided I could do a little more with this piece

[harryspet]

buy me presents | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!mafia!rafe x spoiled!bratty!reader, ex-convict!rafe, rafe has a spoiling kink, topper thornton x reader, kidnapping/confinement, bondage, mentions of death/violence, toxic relationship, NONCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: merry christmas eve! gif credit: @/janesarahspidey

In which Rafe is more dangerous than ever and he interrupts your honeymoon with your new husband.

word count: 6.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Somewhere like Greece seemed like a much better option for your honeymoon. Your husband, Topper, insisted that spending the end of year at a cozy, cabin in the mountains would be much more intimate.  Besides that, you’d gotten married so late into the year that a tropical honeymoon was probably out of the question. You bargained for a trip to Greece in the spring and decided not to pout. At least a cozy mountain trip meant cute two-piece lounge sets with fur-line boots and adorable ear muffs. 

That morning, he’d lugged all four of your suitcases into the back of his SUV, and you drove 4 hours from Figure 8 to the mountains. The car heater hummed softly as you stared out the window, the serenity of the trip barely masking your true feelings. You had the perfect winter wedding, a huge oval diamond on your ring, you’d snagged the most eligible bachelor in Kildare, and yet, you were still hoping for more. 

Topper was all smiles when you arrived, chivalrously carrying all your things inside. The “cabin” he picked was less than low-key, which impressed you, from the outside it was covered in snow but you could tell there were at least seven bedrooms. Shivering you followed him inside. The moment the door slammed shut behind you, the noise felt strangely final, like you were trapped in a cage of wood and snow. 

Your husband went to work on the fireplace, and still shivering, you wandered through the luxurious cabin’s living room. It was adorned with over-stuffed furniture, red-plaid blanket throws, deep leather couches, and velvet armchairs. A bear skin rug sat before the fireplace, a deer head placed ceremoniously over the mantle, “I was thinking we could decorate the place for Christmas. Make it real cozy. What do you think?”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips, “Yeah … where are we gonna get decorations?” You crossed your arms as you continued to shiver. Moving closer to him, you were hoping a spark would appear soon. 

Topper glanced over at you, his face lighting up with excitement. "I figured we could take a drive into town tomorrow, get a real tree, maybe a few things for the mantel. It'll be perfect. You know, all the little touches."

The fire crackled in front of you as Topper carefully stoked the flames, his focus on making sure it blazed high. His back was to you, his arms flexing as he worked, and for a moment, you found yourself staring at him. Topper was handsome, successful, and undoubtedly a good man. You let yourself feel grateful that he’d put so much thought into this trip.

Planning your dream wedding had completely consumed your thoughts this year, bringing you unimaginable anxiety. Every decision, every detail had been meticulously planned, from the dress to the flowers, the venue, and every single guest on the guest list. You’d sacrificed sleep, health, and sanity in pursuit of perfection. But now, the wedding was behind you, and the weight of it all seemed to evaporate in the crisp mountain air.

You decided that this was the time to finally let go of the constant pressure and to simply enjoy being married, “Sounds perfect,” You responded, and at the same time, you saw the first spark. Topper stoked the fire, letting it grow, and you finally felt the comforting heat, “The tree has to be at least nine feet, okay? With red and gold bulbs and big poinsettias. I want my sister to totally freak out when I send her photos.” You said it with a small smirk, imagining her wide-eyed reaction to the grandeur of it all. You were already picturing the perfect holiday setup, one that would leave no room for comparison.

“You got it,” He stood up from his place kneeling by the fireplace, dusting off his pants, and leaned in to kiss you softly. His voice was low, reassuring, and you picked out the way his eyes soften at the sight of you. Topper Thornton was madly in love with you, “What sounds good for dinner?”

“Steak?” You offered, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Outside, through tall glass windows, you watched snow fall down on the landscape. 

“Steak it is. I’m gonna make you an amazing dinner and then we’re going to have the coziest night in.” He leaned down to kiss you on your forehead and you watched as he made his way to the kitchen. 

“I will …unpack,” You declared, staring around the room, already envisioning where you would settle.

The master suite was tucked away on the upper floor, accessed by a grand staircase with a dark wood banister that creaked softly under your footsteps. The soft glow from the chandelier above cast a warm light over you. The stairs led to a long hallway that ended in double doors, adorned with heavy brass handles. 

At the center of the room stood a four-poster king-sized bed with a thick down comforter and piles of plush pillows, framed by an elegant dark wood bed frame. Across the room was yet another fireplace and you imagined a warm, cozy consummation of your marriage. You were no virgin, and Topper hadn’t proposed to you before sampling what he intended to lock down for the rest of his life, but you wanted it to be special. 

Your eyes wandered to the private balcony accessed through French doors offered views of the snow-covered expanse but was too cold to truly enjoy. Instead, you turned your attention to unpacking yours and Topper’s luggage, organizing your belongings in the spacious walk-in closet. The expansive vanity soon became a canvas for your collection of beauty trinkets and makeup, each item finding its place as you settled into your new surroundings.

You joined Topper for dinner, the mouth watering aroma already having reached you upstairs. Topper was good at being doting, remembering to pull out your chair for you, making sure your glass of red wine never fully emptied. Part of your heart fluttered, the other, more realistic half was skeptical. You couldn’t help but reflect on the endless conversations you’d had with your therapist. She’d pointed out time and time again that you struggled to let people fully in, even the ones who loved you.

This was the time, Y/N, to finally let someone in. What better person than the one you agreed to marry? 

Dinner was more than pleasant, and as the wine started to warm your cheeks, the conversation turned light. It was fun. Sometimes you forgot how much fun Topper could be. 

Topper’s voice was low and teasing, “If you could switch lives with anyone for a day, no strings attached, no responsibilities, no commitments, who would it be and why?”

You paused, the question hanging in the air for a moment. Topper leaned forward slightly, clearly enjoying the challenge he’d just given you. You could tell he was genuinely curious, but also hoping to catch a glimpse of something unexpected, something about the woman he’d married that maybe even you hadn’t fully explored.

Your fingers played with the stem of your wine glass as you thought, the question pulling you into a brief moment of reflection.

“Hmmm…” you mused, your heartbeat picking up, though you kept your face neutral, “I think… I’d pick my oldest sister. She does everything right. She’s got it all together. At least, that’s what my Mom and Dad always say.”

“Really?” Topper smiled, taking a sip from his wine, “Your sister?”

“Yeah,” Maybe because you felt no judgement at all, you kept speaking, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t love my life now. But all I wanted when I was a teenager was to be the godliest woman, to get married young, and you know, do all the things a pastor’s daughter is supposed to do. And I watched all three of my sisters do it and…they’ve just never approved of my decisions.”

You were sitting across from the only decision your parent’s approved of but you weren’t always Topper Thornton’s wife. For years, they’d considered you “lost”. 

Topper gave you a soft smile. “I’m surprised but it’s kind of nice to … to know you more. I want to know your more, Y/N,” You understood what he meant. You did your best to come across only how you wanted others to perceive you, “You know, you’re exactly where you need to be, right here with me. And I’m sorry, but your parents are idiots.”

You nodded, laughing, before you down the rest of your wine, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” Topper’s eyes widened, “Is it upstairs?”

You nodded, standing from the table. “Yes. I’m going to get ready. Toss these dishes in the sink, I’ll clean them tomorrow, and meet me upstairs in… five minutes, okay?”

“Can’t wait, Mrs. Thornton,” He winked and you scurried away from the table with a mischievous smile. 

It took you a lot longer than five minutes to get ready and you were lucky that Topper had known you well enough to give you more time. You chose an outfit you’d been waiting to pull out since the beginning of planning for your wedding. The nightgown was crafted from soft, white silky fabric, it’s neck plunged and the neckline was adorned by lace. The hem ended just before the middle of your thighs, teasing yet tasteful, and the robe that accompanied it was made from the same light, airy material. You tied the robe lazily in front, letting the fabric cascade over your body. 

You were applying lipgloss in the mirror when you heard the closing of a car door. You paused for a moment, wondering why he had gone out to the car. Deciding you were presentable enough, you left the room. At the top of the stairs, you heard the shuffling of feet and assumed Topper had made his way back inside. 

“Babe?” You inquired as you made your way down the stairs. Your stomach dropped the moment that your bare feet hit the bottom step. You gripped the stair railing as your eyes tried to make sense of the movement in the dimly lit downstairs. All you could really tell was that Topper was not alone and dark figures had crowded the living room. 

Then your heard a painful grunt and recognized the sound as belonging to Topper. Abort, abort, abort, the little voice in your head said. When you turned around, there was a dark figure standing at the top of the stairs now. You immediately recognized the cold, calculating look in his eyes. He was one of Rafe's men. You couldn’t remember his name, but the air around him was thick with malice. He didn’t need to say a word for you to understand his intent: you weren’t going anywhere.

A scream left your lips before you could cover your mouth with a shaky hand. “Stay still,” the man at the top of the stairs said in a low, gruff voice. His hand moved toward his waistband, and your stomach twisted as you feared the worst.

You moved forward despite his words. The shuffling from the living room intensified, followed by another grunt from Topper, which made your legs nearly buckle beneath you. You were so, so, so close to the door but a few steps in that direction made you realize there were two other men blocking that exit. You turned around slowly, following their line of the sight, and moved in the only direction there was. 

You padded closer to the living room, a crackling fire the only source of light in the room. Rafe Cameron stood, tall and commanding, gun pointed to your husband’s temple. He already owned every inch of the space. 

Topper’s eyes flicked toward you, panic and fear evident in them, but he didn’t speak, not while Rafe’s gun was so close to his head. His jaw clenched, and he shifted uncomfortably in place, his hands bound behind him. Two other dark figures stood nearby and you quickly processed that they were most likely the ones who overpowered your husband. 

Cold, calculating eyes locked on you. Oh god, you thought, you’d really done it now. 

It wasn’t love at first sight with Rafe Cameron. Not even close. But it was fire—raw, passionate, and all-consuming. You were at the end of your rebellious phase, days away from moving back home, and finally agreeing to go to that Christian college your parents always wanted you to go to.

It really started with a pair of diamond earrings. Not a conversation, not a connection, just a gesture that hit you like a freight train. 

He presented them after he’d given you three earth-shattering, bed-frame-slamming orgasms in a row, and you’d dozed off in his bedroom, tangled in the sheets, not caring that it was a late-night rendezvous that was never supposed to mean anything. The earrings were tucked inside a velvet box that seemed almost out of place with the raw, unrestrained chaos of the night.

“Are you paying me for sex? Like a hooker?”

“You’d think I’d buy diamond earrings for a hooker?” His voice was steady, as if he hadn’t just spent hours making your legs shake. “No, this is an investment. I want my future wife to know I can give her nice things.”

"Shut up," you muttered, not trying to keep the sting out of your voice. You weren’t his property. You weren’t someone’s investment.

Rafe only smirked, eyes predatory but amused. You accepted, of course, and you tried them on just minutes later. You’d never owned anything so … sparkly. They were the opposite of modest, the opposite of the world you were so close to entering again. 

There was no amusement in the look Rafe Cameron was giving you now, his black suit molding perfectly to his tall, muscular frame. “And here she is,” Rafe announced, a smile on his lips with absolutely know joy behind it, “The beautiful bride!” 

“Rafe …” You steadied your breathing as much as possible, “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t help but notice his hair—buzzed short, a sharp contrast to the way he used to wear it. It gave him a more rugged and dangerous look, one that matched the quiet menace he often carried in his demeanor.

“What does it look like? I came to congratulate you two.” 

“Put the gun away,” You stepped closer, arms wrapping around yourself, wanting to conceal your vulnerable form from the men in the room, “He didn’t do anything. You know he didn’t. I’m the one who–”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I did consider him a good friend of mine, you know? S’pose to look after my girl while I did my time. Guess you thought I was giving you permission to fuck her,” The barrel of the gun pressed harder into Topper’s temple and you cringed. His icy blue eyes pinned you in place as he scanned over you. You wanted to scream, to throw yourself at Rafe and tear the gun from his hand, but something in you knew that it wasn’t that simple. It never had been with Rafe.

“No, you don’t get to do this,” You declared, raising your voice as much as your body would let you, “You went away. I ended things. You don’t get to tear everything down just because you can’t let go.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched and you could see the nerve you’d struck written all over his face, “She’s not your girl anymore,” Topper spoke through gritted teeth, “You can’t–”

Rafe’s eyes flashed with a fury that turned his features hard and before you could take another breath, he moved with lightning speed, raising the gun in his hand. The crack of metal meeting flesh filled the room as Rafe pistol-whipped Topper across the face, sending him crumbling to the floor.

“Fuck!” You cursed, tears stinging your eyes. You fought the urge to keel over and release the contents of your stomach at the sight of the blood gushing from Topper’s face. A blind rage came over you as you started to struggle to breathe. 

“Neither of you get to tell me what the fuck to do,” Rafe’s eyes bore into you. 

You moved closer, wanting to check and at least make sure your husband was still breathing. Before you knew it, Rafe’s gun was pointing at you. 

“No, leave him. You. Sit,” He gestured the gun towards the leather couch. 

You hesitated and Rafe easily pointed the gun back at Topper. A threat. Shakily, you stepped away from Topper’s figure, and sat down on the living room couch. You tried to steady yourself, stop yourself from vibrating with anger, to calm your nerves so you could think rationally. 

Across the room, Rafe did the same, though his movements were more restless, more frantic. He paced back and forth, his boots thudding softly against the carpet. The gun never left his hand, his fingers curling tighter around it as he muttered under his breath, words too quiet to make out.

It was a scene you had witnessed before. Rafe trying to calm down after doing something reckless. Something violent. You wanted nice things, sure. But not like this. Not at the cost of your peace, your sanity. And certainly not at the cost of your safety.

The realization hit you then. The crazy that came with Rafe Cameron? You had never wanted it, not really. 

“What do you want from us?” You asked, lips trembling. 

“Nothing from him,” Rafe decided quickly, “From you. There is no limit to all that I want from you, Y/N.”

You breathed deeply, “What do you want me to say? You want me to lie to you, Rafe?”

Rafe nodded his head as he thought about your words, “I want that ring off your finger …” He trailed off, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

You look down at your left hand as it sat on your lap. You quickly covered your left hand with your right, “Take if off,” He continued and when you didn’t budge, he added, “I’m not asking. Do it or-”

Angrily, you kept your eyes on him. You pulled off your engagement ring and wedding band, tossing the two at his feet. 

“Good,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze narrowing, though he still smirked. "You’ll regret that."

He leaned down to take the rings into his hand, “Hmm, you always told me you wanted a pear shape. I know you didn’t change your mind that quickly. Let me guess …you mentioned it but he never remembered. And you were just so grateful that he even got down on one knee for you.” 

Rafe’s words stung, his mockery of your past with Topper hitting harder than you expected. 

“I love it. You know all I really care about is a big diamond, Rafe,” You spoke through a painful smile.

“I know I’m not the only man in the world with money,” Rafe said, his voice tight with controlled anger. “But what you don’t understand is, he wouldn’t have anything without me. That new real estate venture of his? The one he’s so proud of now? It started with me. And what does he do? He swoops in, steals my girl, and then steals five million dollars from me. That’s what all of this is about, sweet girl. I’m here to collect what’s owed to me.”

His words hit like a slap, each sentence dripping with resentment and possessiveness. The revelation about the money, about the real reason for everything that had led to this moment, twisted in your stomach like a blade. 

“He didn’t steal me,” You countered bitterly, “I was never going to be yours. You’re a criminal.”

There was a dangerous intensity in Rafe’s eyes. Your arms crossed now out of defiance. Rafe nodded, smiling, “You’re right about one of those things. Wrong about you never being mine. But you’re right about me being a criminal.” 

Rafe crossed the room and your heart leapt from your chest as your leapt from your seat. Rafe Cameron introduced you to a violence you’d never known, and in less than a second, completely broke your heart. Topper, already passed out and crumpled on the floor, didn’t stand a chance. Standing over his body, gun angled to the ground, Rafe shot your husband in the head. 

Another second later, he was handing your rings over to one of his henchman standing nearby, “Go ahead and bury these with him.” 

Your knees buckled at the sight …the parts of his brain that were scattered all over the carpet. our hand trembled as you reached for him, but the second you touched his skin, the realization that he was gone set in.

You heard Rafe’s voice, his focus was elsewhere. You thought you might’ve heard his laugh. The sound was the last thing you heard before everything went still.

Ropes bit into your wrists. You tried to pull yourself up, the softness of the mattress making you sink further, and then you felt a strong hand on your waist holding you in place. Turning your head rapidly, you saw both your wrists tied to the opposite ends of the wooden bed. Looking down, not only did you see your lingerie still in place, but Rafe Cameron was kneeling between your legs. 

He’d remove his clothes except for his slacks though you could see his belt was loosened. You pressed your head back into the mattress, pulling at your restraints, “This is low, even for you,” You breathed out.

“Low? You’re being dramatic.”

“You killed my husband,” you whispered, the weight of the truth settling like a stone in your stomach. Slowly, he crawled on top of your, shirtless and even more sculpted than you remembered. His frame, lean and muscular bathed in the warm glow of the room's lighting. His chest was broad and defined with every line of his torso sharp. Your eyes found his shoulders, broad and powerful, tapering down to a narrow waist. Prison had not only hardened his frown lines, it had hardened every part of him. 

Rafe’s eyes flickered as he looked down at you, a brief flash of something—guilt, maybe? That look was gone quickly, replaced with something colder, harder. 

Unable to hide the panic in your voice now, you continued, “Rafe …don’t … please-” 

He searched your face, “Please?” He raised an eyebrow, “My spoiled brat remembers her manners?”

“I hate you,” You tried to blink away the tears that were forming in your eyes. Rafe caressed your face, thumb dragging over your cheeks, “God, I fucking hate you.”

His hand moved to your neck, his grip tightening there, “You didn’t give a shit about him. I know you. You were settling.”

“You don’t–”

“You forget,” He squeezed tighter, "Stop pretending I don’t know you. I see right through the act. I know what excites you, what gets your heart racing. That ring? It was never what you wanted. This whole life you’ve been pretending to want. You play innocent in front of everyone-”

“Get off me–”

He squeezed harder, his grip forcing your breath to catch in your throat. Your eyes widened in panic, but his gaze never wavered. “You want the private jets, the black card, the shopping sprees that never end, the villas in Italy, the lifestyle that makes everyone look twice when you walk into a room. You want to be the center of attention, the prettiest thing in every room. You want to be seen—on someone’s arm, my fucking arm. You crave the power that comes with being with a man like me.”

“A man who can kill and get away with it. Who has the power to have someone else do all his dirty work,” His voice had grown sensual, and his dark words caressed your ear now. You weren’t breathing right but your chest did not heave up and down, you remained in the trance that his words put you in, “What would I feel if I put my hands between your legs right now?” 

“Rafe…” You whispered.

“What baby?” He purred. 

“You’re a narcissist,” To your shock, he smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. And in that moment, you knew: you’d already lost.

Rafe attacked the side of your face with his mouth, leaving kisses along your jawline, before he forced his lips on yours. He tasted the same, you realized that quickly, and you were transported to a time in your life that you’d been trying to suppress the last two years. You struggled beneath him as he pressed his lower half into your, pinning you fully. 

The restraints were the cherry on top of your misery. Rafe could hold you down with no problem and yet he wanted to remind you that you were being punished. 

“You don’t have to worry about me going away again,” He whispered through warm kisses against your skin, “I’m running a tighter operation, okay?”

Your attempts to turn your face away were futile, as your bare neck became his next target. You already felt betrayed by your body. Your body remembered Rafe, and certainly remembered your weakest spot. You pulled at your restraints, stifling the moan that was threatening to leave your lips. 

“No,” you bit out, yanking at your restraints as if sheer willpower could set you free.

But Rafe only pressed more of his weight against you, pinning you further beneath him. “No?” he echoed mockingly, “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until you come for me. A few times, at least,” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we?”

You wanted to scream at him, to spit out how impossible his demand was, how utterly absurd it was to think you could find any pleasure with the man who had done something so unforgivable, so monstrous to someone you cared for.

But the words caught in your throat, strangled by the heat coursing through you. His mouth trailed lower, and your resolve wavered. “That’s it,” he coaxed, his tone dripping with smug confidence, “don’t fight it. You know I always get what I want, baby.”

You searched your brain for the right words. “Rafe Cameron. Don’t. I won’t forgive you if you do this!” 

“I don’t need your forgiveness, baby,” He kissed the skin between your breasts, your plunging neckline leaving you vulnerable, “You’re scared you’re going to like it. That I’m right. C’mon, let Daddy take care of you.”

Rafe’s body moved lower and your panic continued. Strong, thick arms, kept your thighs pinned as Rafe teasing kisses on the outside of your thighs. If your thighs were pressed together, you had no doubt you’d feel a stickiness between them. Your body was ready even if your mind wasn’t. 

When he lifted your thin nightgown and pulled your panties to the side, you tilted your head back in defeat. Now, the battle was in not completely losing your mind. Feeling his warm breath against your most sensitive organ made you realize you’d lose that battle too and quickly. His initial movements were a clear attempt to savor you. Slowly, so painfully slow. 

The intimacy was something you weren’t prepared for. The way Rafe Cameron moved his mouth against you was extremely personal. His touch went from light and slow, gradually building up to something that was sharp and intentional. Something that didn’t change, something often left out of yours and Topper’s sex life, was a steady rhythm. 

Unfortunately, you’d been so busy with the wedding, even your wedding night was too chaotic to consummate the marriage. You hadn’t had an orgasm in weeks. 

Your first orgasm came so quickly that you hadn’t realized it was happening until your body started to convulse and a yelp was on your tongue, “Fuck, fuck, fuck” You cursed. You refused to look down at him but you couldn’t bear to look at his wicked grin. His tongue trailed down to your entrance momentarily but soon he was relentlessly attacking your sore bud again. Rafe was consuming you, “Rafe, please …okay, okay, I came. You can stop now!”

“Why would I stop, baby, when I’m giving you everything you deserve?”

He responded to every reaction. Every attempt to pull away, he kept you steady. You struggled as much as you could and let out frustrated screams. Every attempt to pull away, he kept you steady. He pulled you closer to his mouth, using your hips as an anchor. When you inevitably felt you had nothing left to give him, he forced it out of you. 

He talked to you, coaxing you through the orgasms you were struggling to give him.

“When I’m done with you, I’ll take you home, buy you every little thing you’ve ever wanted.”

Warm and wet, that’s all your body could focus on. You were embarrassingly wet. Your entire body was warm. Your toes curled and you breathed so heavily that you thought you were having a panic attack. You were a sweaty, shaking, cursing mess by the time he finally let you go. 

After Rafe, gently undid your restraints, the coaxing continued. “Daddy’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of. Spa days. Vacations. Real ones. Anything for my girl.”

The silent treatment had never been your style. You were outspoken to a fault, the kind of person who always had something to say, even when you shouldn't. But now, the words were stuck in your throat. You curled your body away from him, your knees pulled to your chest, still trembling from the aftershocks of his touch.

The weight of the last 24 hours pressed down on you. You tried to rationalize, to convince yourself you hadn’t done anything wrong. You hadn’t pulled the trigger. But none of that mattered now. Someone was dead, and the blood felt like it was on your hands, too.

You turned your face into the pillow, desperate to block out the sight of Rafe sitting on the edge of the bed, calm and composed as if nothing had happened. Rafe Cameron didn’t earn his money honestly; you’d always known that. But the full extent of his power, the lengths to which his influence stretched, were incomprehensible. He had people who would bury bodies for him, without question, without hesitation. Who was he now? What had he become in the years since you’d last truly known him?

Your mind wandered to the kind of money he must have. Enough to make men loyal to him beyond reason. Enough to buy silence, loyalty, and the kind of life most people couldn’t even dream of. Maybe he was serious about the private jet and villas in Italy. 

You felt it in the hand he placed on your upper thigh. Power. 

 “Gonna run you a bath, baby.”

As soon as he was out of your sight, you pulled yourself up from the bed. Your eyes locked in on your bruised wrist and then lingered on your empty ring finger. Throwing weak and wobbly legs over the side of the bed, you made a dash for the bedroom doors. 

Maybe you could make it. Do the right thing. Get help-

But as you pushed open the door, the sight of a man standing just outside stopped you cold. He was armed, his posture too relaxed for someone holding that kind of power in his hands. He didn’t say a word, didn’t need to. His presence alone was the warning: Don’t even think about it.

You heard stomping, heavy footsteps of a brute you use to love, before arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards. Heavy wood doors slammed and made your heart jump. 

“Running, huh?” Rafe growled in your ear, “After I’ve been so sweet to you?”

You struggled to the point that Rafe had to tackle you to the floor. You thought about Topper. You thought about the man outside the door listening to everything happening in this room. You thought about how gentle Rafe had been with you in comparison to now. You made a mistake. Running was a mistake. 

“Hey!” Rafe’s voice snapped you from your panic and you stared up at him with wide eyes, “You’re okay. These guys are here to protect you. That’s it. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

His words clashed with everything you’d seen, everything you felt. Protect you? From what? From who? The only danger in this room was him.

Rafe released one of your wrists to brush your hair from your face, the gesture at odds with the raw power still holding you down. “I’m not mad, baby,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “But don’t make me chase you again. Don’t wanna hurt you. Now, you up for that bath?”

There was no choice in the matter, you simply just gritted your teeth. You feared the second option would be to be tied up again. 

To your dismay, you undressed from your thin layer of clothing, and stepped into the bath. The warmth was a reminder of this entire home’s original purpose. Rafe seemed to have no shame about completely destroying your honeymoon. Your body was stiff and you didn’t meet his eyes as he kneeled by the tub, running his fingers through the water, before he caressed your arm, “See, not so bad,” Rafe said, “I missed you, Y/N.”

“I’m sure you missed a lot of things in jail,” Pulling your knees up cover your chest, you kept your eyes focused on the bubbles in the water. 

“I think I missed your smart mouth most of all,” You jumped at the sound of him slapping his hand against the porcelain of the tub. He rose from his kneeling position and turned in the direction of the room, “Finish up. I got you some stuff. Want you to see it.” 

You exhaled shakily, your heart pounding in your chest. The warmth of the bath felt suffocating now, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air. You sank lower into the water, trying to collect your thoughts. 

You hated him. Hated the way he controlled you, the way he twisted every situation to suit his needs. But deep down, buried beneath the fear and anger, was the part of you that had always craved the kind of life only someone like Rafe could provide. And it scared you to realize that even now, when you should want nothing more than to escape, some small, selfish part of you still wanted to see what he had waiting for you.

Taking your time, you scrubbed away the scent of Rafe, although you still couldn’t shake that feeling of his mouth on you. You felt as if you had completely come undone. A part of you feared that he might have ruined you with how relentless he’d been. 

Taking back some of your modesty, you dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. He was waiting for you, immediately crossing the room, as you opened the bathroom door. Placing a gentle hand on your back, he ushered you forward, “Been thinking about this the whole time I was gone.”

On the bed was a collection of boxes, neatly arranged like a display in a high-end boutique. Your breath hitched as your eyes scanned over them. Velvet jewelry cases, designer shopping bags, and a shoebox with the logo of a luxury brand you’d only ever admired from afar. 

You turned your head to look up at him. You attempted to convey something serious, a warning, a please stop and yet you were sure you could only display uncertainty in that moment. “Don’t be shy, baby. These are for you.”

Your feet carried you forward reluctantly, your mind warring with itself. You didn’t want to feed into his delusions that he could buy your affection. But the truth was, a part of you wanted to see.

He reached for a small box first, flipping it open to reveal a ring. The diamond was massive, glittering under the light in a pear shape that was both elegant and extravagant, “I know it’s not the ring you got but it’s the one you deserve.” 

“Rafe,” you exhaled, his name slipping from your lips with a softness that startled even you. The sound was far more intimate than you intended, like an instinct you couldn’t control

Like a magnet, your hand moved towards the box. Before you could reach it, Rafe flashed you a smirk, before he took the ring of the box and gestured for your hand. Your fingers trembled. He slid the ring onto your finger with deliberate care, his touch lingering just long enough to make your pulse race.

Your lips parted in awe as you marveled down at the at least. “Oh my god, it’s perfect.”

“Told you,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “Nothing but the best for you, baby.”

It was so beautiful, so perfect, it almost made you forget the ugliness of how it had ended up on your hand.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, barely recognizing your own voice. Whether the gratitude was genuine or forced, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

Rafe tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to read the thoughts behind your expression. “You deserve it,” he said softly, “You deserve everything.”

You weren’t sure if he was right but he was offering something you knew no one else could. And it scared you how much you wanted it.

Reblogs are much appreciated if you enjoyed!!

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 24: Nuru Massage

Eunbi booba make brain go brr. Now imagine her oiled up... brain go boom.

Length 1.6K

Eunbi X Mreader

You look at the sign hanging above you, “Nuru Massage.” You must have considered walking in here a hundred times, but each time, you decided against it. This time, though, you were going to go in. You wanted to see what it was all about, and after doing your research, you felt pretty confident it would be enjoyable, at the very least. “Welcome! How can I help you today?” You hear shouted at you from behind the counter the moment you walk in.

You look at the board behind the lady, noting times and prices available. “I’d like a massage, one of your hour sessions, please,” you say, pointing at the board. 

“An hour session? Alright, just follow me, and we’ll get you started soon.” The woman behind the counter leads you down the hall to a room at the very end. “She’ll be here very soon. You just get ready; there’s a basket for you to put your clothes in.” The woman shuts the door; you spend a minute looking around the bare room before beginning to take off your clothes. Just as you finish putting the last piece of clothing in the basket, the door to your room opens. Taking a step inside is a young woman in a thin white bikini.

“Hello, my name is Eunbi. I’ll be performing this massage for you.” She says with a bow. You stare at her cleavage, her large, weighty breasts immediately getting your attention. “What is your name, sir?” She asks while preparing herself and the room a little more. Eunbi presses a button, and you watch as an air mat inflates in the room's corner. “What is your name?” Eunbi asks again. You respond this time just as the mat is finished inflating. “Please lay down on the mat. I’ll be right over.”

You walk over to the mat and lie down only a few inches off the floor. You stare at the beautiful woman’s backside as she finishes her preparations and walks over to you. “As you know, this is a Nuru massage; we have a special blend of oil we use here,” Eunbi informs you, raising a bottle. “This is what I’ll be using today. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll begin your massage,”

Eunbi lifted the bottle, drizzling the oil over her body. She rubbed the liquid into her skin as she continued to cover herself. The bikini top Eunbi wore became saturated with the oil and turned translucent. Her nipple was visible, but that didn’t bother the young woman; it was a part of the job. Eunbi kept her smile on you as she put the bottle down and spread the oil over the rest of her body. You kept your eyes on Eunbi’s body, watching as it glistened. You got hard immediately; it made Eunbi blush. She crawled onto the mat, her tits hanging over your cock. Eunbi cocks her head to the side, a playful smile on her face as she lowers herself and her breasts rub against your cock, coating it in the oil as she presses her breasts together. You groan, enjoying the feeling of Eunbi’s soft tits slipping around your cock. 

Eunbi giggled but focused on her massage, moving over to your legs. She did the left first, pouring some oil along it before pressing her body against it and sliding up and down it. You could feel her breasts against your thigh as she moved along your body. Eunbi slowed down, moving onto your thigh and sitting on it. Eunbi softly moaned as she rode your thigh, her hips rocking back and forth. Listening to Eunbi’s moans made your cock throb; you desperately wanted to fuck her. The bikini she wore was utterly see-through now. 

Eunbi seemed to notice, too. She looked down and untied her top, tossing it to the side; she followed suit with her panties. You gulped as you saw her bare body in all its glory. Sure, the bikini wasn’t hiding anything in the end, but the look now was awe-inspiring. 

The young woman switched legs, coating the other in oil before riding it. You stare at Eunbi’s tits move as she rides your leg. “Is this to your liking, sir?”

“Yes, it feels nice.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Eunbi says as she comes to a stop, and moves upward, dragging her tits along your stomach before stopping at your chest. You’re eye to eye with Eunbi. She smiles at you. Eunbi moves to the side, placing your arm between her tits. When she’s near your shoulder, you can almost touch her slit, and Eunbi can feel your hand try to reach it. She always moves down your arm just before you can. At the very least, she compensated you by letting you grope her breasts when she was by your hand. You squeezed her weighty breasts; their softness was otherworldly. When you found her nipple, you rolled it between your fingers, making the young woman moan as she moved up and stretched it taut before finally letting go. The process repeats when Eunbi moves to your other arm. As you toy with each other, Eunbi slowly moves herself on top of you, her chest rubbing against yours. 

She leans down and kisses you, “I think I love you.” She says it suddenly, but it’s a rehearsed line. Of course, sex wouldn’t be allowed in a place like this, but if the masseuse and customer happened to fall in love, then it would be fine. It was a little loophole to skirt the law. You follow along, telling Eunbi you love her too as you place your hands at her waist. The young woman giggles, placing her hands on your chest before sitting up and straddling you. She takes your hands, putting them on the tits she knew you couldn’t get enough of. 

You were more than happy to have your hands on them again, immediately squeezing the soft mounds and making her coo. “Such a naughty boy,” Eunbi moaned. The young masseuse lifted herself, grabbing your cock and placing it between your bodies, grinding against it while you played with her tits. You pushed them together, lifted them, and watched them bounce as you dropped them. The look on your face entertained Eunbi and let you continue before eventually wanting to move on. She rose slowly and placed you against her cunt, lowering herself onto your cunt. She groaned as she felt your cock fill her pussy.

As she lowered herself, you unconsciously squeezed her tits roughly, making her moan as she took the entire thing inside her. Eunbi places her hands on your chest, leaning over you as she catches her breath. You let go of her breasts and watch them hang inches from your face. The temptation is too great, and you lean in and take one into your mouth. Eunbi shivers as you begin to swirl your tongue around her nipple. The pleasure only becomes greater as you grab her waist and begin to thrust. “W-wait,” Eunbi moans, the influx of pleasure making her weak. It was hard to hold onto Eunbi; her slick body made your hands move up anytime she bounced on your cock. It also made it hard to stay connected to her breasts. You eventually gave up on that effort and just enjoyed the feeling of your cock in her snug cunt, watching as Eunbi’s tits bounced in front of you.

Eunbi shut her eyes and moaned, enjoying as your cock wet deep into her cunt. Soon, you get into a rhythm, moving your hands along Eunbi’s body as you thrust, squeezing her soft flesh and making her moan. She cranes her neck as she bounces on your cock; seeing her so vulnerable fueled your desire for the young woman. You sat up and ran a hand down Eunbi’s back as you kissed her neck. “Ah, I’m going to cum,” Eunbi whined, her walls tightening around your cock. “You c-can’t cum inside,” Eunbi continued. 

You felt disappointed that she didn’t want you to cum inside her, but something told you could get something better if you followed along. You push Eunbi onto her back and continue your thrusting. You lean over and kiss her, holding onto one of her tits as you slide your cock in and out of her tight cunt. Eunbi’s whines continue to grow louder until she finally cums, her cunt clamping down on your cock, nearly making you cum. 

You manage to pull out at the last second and paint Eunbi’s stomach with your semen—the young woman softly moans as she feels her stomach have cum splattered on it. She breathes heavily, a small smirk on her face as she scoops some of your cum and eats it. “Did you enjoy your massage?” Eunbi asks, out of breath. You nod, feeling very relaxed. “Thank you for not cumming inside. If you ever come back, I’d be more than happy to treat you to a different massage, something much tighter. Your cock begins to twitch at the idea she’s presenting. Eunbi notices your cock twitching, “I guess you understand.”

Eunbi grabs your hand, leading you to the room’s shower, where she washes the oil off you, using her body on you one last time before your visit ends. You pay the woman at the front and leave the massage place, feeling happy that you went in and excited at the chance to have more fun with Eunbi. You imagine what the next experience will be like with Eunbi face down and her ass raised in the air.

[zombie-bait]

As an animation student I absolutely hate live action adaptations like the ones Disney's been churning out the last few years. They strip away all the artistic intent of the original pieces of media and turn them into grey, heavily cgi-ed experiences that don't even carry a quarter of the whimsy. The purpose behind these adaptations isn't to fully utilize a new medium and find a unique way of retelling the original story, it's just to make money.

Imagine you see a painting, let's say The Mona Lisa. Now, you can put on a black wig, pose in front of the countryside and take a selfie in the same pose. Is it fun? Yeah, sure. It's the kind of thing you can send to your friends or maybe post on an account. But to argue it is superior somehow because it's "real" is an insult. You could spend thousands of dollars on makeup, cameras and lighting but still, it will not carry the same cultural impact. It can't.

And don't get me wrong, photography and cinematography are 100% an art form. You can do beautiful things with a camera that cannot be done through any other media. Cosplay is another beautiful example of artists bringing their creative interpretations of characters into the real world. People who do those should be admired and appreciated. But we know that's not what's happening here.

You might not think The Little Mermaid (1989) or Beauty and the Beast (1991) are as artistically valuable as something like The Mona Lisa. That's the thing about art, no one really gets to decide what piece of art is or isn't superior to another. But all three are definitively intentional art. It doesn't matter if you're an overworked in-betweener for a mega-corporation in the 90's or a famous renaissance painter working on a portrait. Either way, you're pouring a little bit of yourself into your creation. Every choice you make has intent behind it and years of hard work, even if you're not conscious of that.

These adaptations are an expensive selfie boasted around as a superior product. Because that's all they are, products imitating art. You end up losing those intentional choices somewhere along the way as hand-picked colours, distinct silhouettes and visual storytelling all get dulled into the same "realistic" shape. And children deserve better. Not just because exploiting families by rereleasing content is scummy, but because I whole-heartedly believe that children deserve artistically rich, complex stories. Almost every animation student and professional that I know got where they are because they were inspired by something. Maybe it was Beauty and the Beast or My Little Pony or Animaniacs or How to Train Your Dragon. But there's something immensely powerful about being a little kid and being shown a completely new, beautiful way to imagine and interpret the world. And you find yourself sketching day and night to replicate that interpretation until suddenly you're creating something new, with intention, that's never been made before.

I'm sure there are plenty of kids who like movies with realistic-looking animals. But the animals aren't realistic because these corporations thought kids would enjoy them, they're realistic because studios executives that don't actually give a shit about art or animation think they are more visually impressive and needed to come up with an excuse to recycle content instead of daring to do anything new. They don't care about artists, they care about consumers.

Since we keep getting "live action" CGI remakes of already perfectly adequate animated movies, and because people need to understand that animation is a medium and not a genre, I have prepared this primer about the importance of Visual Language for Conveying Information.

Can you tell what the personalities of these two mice are?

Can you tell now?

Which of these two tigers feels safer to be around?

Which of these three dogs is the funniest one?

If you can answer these questions, then you already have experience with the idea of visual language and stylistic choices being used to impart narrative meaning. If you can understand why these choices were made to impart meaning, then you can understand why animation is a medium for telling stories that has its own inherent value, and is not merely a "placeholder" for the eventual implementation of photorealistic presentation (aka "Live Action" CGI). Animation does not need to be "corrected" or "legitimized" by remaking it into the most representational simulation of observable reality.

[moosesarecute]

December 23rd

December Masterlist

Masterlist

Azriel had moved you to his bedroom in the House of Wind after you had fallen asleep. You remembered being picked up and shushed back to sleep, but you don’t remember being brought to his room.

He slept soundly beside him. He snored a little. Azriel only snored when he felt exhausted, so you decided to let him sleep for as long as he needed.

You got his shadows to help you out of his arms so that he didn’t wake up, before you moved into the kitchen.

It was cookie time.

With the help of the shadows you first mixed sugar and brown sugar, before you added flour, vanilla and eggs. In the end you mixed in chopped hazelnuts and dark chocolate.

You scooped out over 50 small cookies and baked them in the oven. In the meanwhile, you started on the presents.

Rhys had given you one of Feyre’s favorite dresses. It had three small holes. It didn’t take you long to saw all of them. It looked good as new.

You remembered the dress the second you saw it. Rhys’ mother had used you as a model to make it.

After that, you moved on to an apron. It was Elain’s and you decided to embroider flowers on it. Just like the flowers of you made on the dresses of the dolls Nick and his elves made.

That’s what you were doing when Nesta walked in.

“You’ve been busy,” she said. “Can I try one?”

You picked up one of the cookies that had cooled down and gave it to her. She took a bite and smiled.

“These are so good! You know, the boys tried to make these. They weren’t half as good as yours.”

You could imagine Azriel and Cassian baking together and the mess they would make. The thought made you happy.

“What’s the deal with the cookies? I’ve heard you’re very set on making these all of December.”

You smiles again as memories of your mother filled your mind.

“I grew up in Windhaven too. We weren’t very well off. I was lucky enough to be able to eat dinner with Rhys and his mother most days, but I remember going to bed hungry often. However, in the month of December my mother had been saving for many months to make sure be had money for sugar, eggs, nuts and chocolate. We would make cookies on the 1st of December. The recipe made about 20 cookies, but we made them so small that he had at least 42. Then, we would eat one each every day until Winter Solstice. And if we had more than 42, my father would get the rest.”

It was your fondest memory from your mother. That was one of the many reasons to why you loved Winter Solstice.

“You really loved your mother, didn’t you?”

“Yes, she was the best. She always supported me.”

“She died when you were young, didn’t she? Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Unlike most fae, my mother didn’t have the best health. She was sick from a very young age. She got worse and worse from the time I turned sixteen. She passed as I turned 19. She got a very short life for fae standards, as she was only 64 as she died. But she got to meet Azriel and that means a lot.”

You and Nesta ended up speaking for quite a while. You spoke about everything: mates, food, books and training.

“Ooo, it smells sooo good,” Cassian’s strong voice boomed through the kitchen as he walked in.

He stumped towards the cookies, but you slapped his hand away before he managed to touch one.

“Cauldron, Cass. You have to wash your hands first!”

He turned to you and you expected to see his annoyed face, but he only smiled at you. He threw himself on you with a hug.

“Oh, I’ve missed you,” he said.

You gave him a cookie and he and Nesta went out to train.

You had finished presents for Feyre and Elain and moved on to Amren and Nesta. You were going to make two different things, but the way to make them were similar. You needed to knit a rectangle and fold it into a book cover for Nesta and a jewelry holder for Amren.

You picked a thicker yarn so that the knitting would be quicker. Then you would sew a piece of fabric on the inside of both of them.

You had just begun when you were covered in shadows. You almost expected Azriel to arrive soon after, but the humming feeling in your chest told you he was still sleeping. The shadows had been following you the entire morning, but right now they were actually holding your entire body.

So you decided to put the shadows to work.

“So you push that needle into this hoop, then you twist the yarn around and flip up the hoop over the yarn twisted around the needle,” you said as you showed the shadows how to knit.

You sat together and knitted and it was surprisingly fun. They would pull your hair once a while because they had lost a stitch or done something else wrong, but they did a great job.

Azriel woke up and was ready to pull you tighter towards him.

But you weren’t there.

Panic immediately filled his chest. Had he been dreaming? Why weren’t you there? He looked at the time. It was eleven. He must have been sick or hurt.

“Kitchen,” his shadows told him.

Azriel threw on a shirt and ran to the kitchen. Relief filled his body as he saw you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and took in your scent.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” you told him.

You must have felt his emotions through the bond.

“It’s okay, just, please wake me next time,” he said and kissed your head.

That’s when he noticed his shadows. His shadows were feared creatures. They often killed or tortured with him. And people ran away in fear from just a sight of them.

But now, they were knitting.

“You taught them to knit?”

“Of course!”

Azriel couldn’t help all the emotions that filled his heart. It was ridiculous, but very cute at the same time.

“You’re cute,” he told you with a new kiss.

The two of you had moved into the living room. Azriel sat and read some reports, while you sewed with your legs in his lap. It was fire in the fireplace and hot chocolate stood on the table.

It was so calm and peaceful.

You were working on sewing the jewelry holder for Amren, when you pricked your finger with the needle.

“Ouch,” you said softly and put your thumb into your mouth. The metallic taste of blood hit your tongue.

You had pricked yourself with needles extremely many times. It became something you almost didn’t notice happened. So you started sewing again.

However, you were filled with a bunch of anxiety. As you looked up at Azriel he looked extremely worried.

He reached for your hand and brushed carefully over your thumb.

“You’re bleeding,” he said. His eyebrows were furrowed.

“Az,” you said. “I’m okay. It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

You moved away your sewing and held Azriel into your chest. His shaky breath told you he was crying. You realized that your blood definitely had triggered something.

“Shhh,” you kissed his head. “I’m here, my shadow. I’m not going anywhere. I’m safe. It was just a small needle. I’m safe in your protection.”

He calmed down more and more the more you spoke. He looked up at you with eyes that were just a little puffier than before. You kissed his forehead and held him a little longer.

Eventually, he started reading again and you moved over to Cassian’s present. You repaired some of his leathers. You finished both his pants and shirt and made sure they were sturdy enough to last him a long time.

For Mor, you begun making a fabric purse with a smaller compartment for makeup, a place holder for a drink and a bigger compartment for anything. The bad was almost finished when you started. You had started it before you got kidnapped. Picking it up again felt bittersweet. Let just say that both you and Azriel crying once again when you brought it out.

“It’s getting quite late, dear,” Azriel said as he held his hand out. He pulled you out of the couch and made the way to the bedroom.

His shadows were swirling lazily around you, but not in a sleepy manner. You moved your hand over to his back and drew a line down his entire back. His wing twitched just a little.

You knew very well what you were doing.

As you closed the door to the bedroom, you kissed him passionately. You moved to kiss down to his neck and ear. He let out a soft sigh. You locked eyes with his gentle hazel eyes and suddenly all you could think of was him.

Taglist: @prettylittlewrites @hailqueenconquer @onebadassunicorn @mich0731 @tele86 @mellowmusings @anarchiii @anainkandpaper @donnadiddadog @atomictyphoonkitten @annablack @graciepies @salvatoresister1 @nastylicious @plants-w0rld @stqrgirlies-blog @scoliobean @kbear8863

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[afanofmanyships]

Part 1 (There is a trial.)

You don't get to be a god without a small piece of you getting reincarnated. Though they kinda wish they knew when that small piece of them is in the reincarnation cycle.

Ghost Lawyer: -Danny Phantom, the defeater of Pariah Dark is called to the council under the pretense that Amity Park is grave and not his hunt that he led us to believe. Johnny 13 is called by the commission to be Phantom's witness as he foretells the Realms that Amity Park is Phantom's Grave instead of Danny Phantom himself.

Meanwhile

Johnny 13: Yeah I know *he scratches his head as he checks over Danny* dick move and I shouldn't have done that but on the bright side. *Jazz hands* No more ghost attacks.

Phantom: *Growls*

Johnny 13: I know this is not an ideal situation. *He gestures to the muzzle, power suppression cuffs, and ankle chains attached to metal balls that keep him on the ground.* But when the court agrees that we- I'm telling the truth, you'll get your full powers.

Phantom eyes widen as he begins to thrash: *He begins banging his cuffs onto the ground and growling, to the point that nearby ghosts have to restrain him, and other nearby ghosts force him into a straight jacket.*

Johnny 13 could only calm Phantom down when they were called to the courtroom.

The courtroom

Ghost Lawyer: The court would like to call Danny Phantom to the stand.

A ghost wheels Phantom to the stand takes the straight jacket off him, and forces him to stand. The ghost leaves. Johnny sits on one of the benches.

Phantom: *Glares at the ancients on the podium*

Pandora: The council has seen the evidence and agreed that Amity Park is Danny Phantom's grave. Therefore-

Johnny 13: *Smiles and clutches his hands in anticipation*

Phantom: *Glares harder*

Ghost Lawyer gets up and bows: I have already made preparations to inform the Realms about this wonderous news-

Pandora: -We, as the Rulers of the Realms, DO. NOT. Recognize Amity Park as the grave of, The Great One; Defeater of Pariah Dark, Danny Phantom.

Ghost Lawyer & Johnny looks towards the counsel in shock: Wha-

Phantom: *Lessens his glare and relaxes a little*

The Ghost Lawyer and Ancients argue back and forth as Phantom stands silently with a relaxed face as if reminiscing about the past.

Phantom: ......

Johnny was not like Phantom, who seemed to accept his fate, or the Ghost Lawyer who could argue back at the ancients. The authorities of the Realms. But as the witness he has to do something.

Johnny stands up: As the witness, I feel like I also have a say in this.

*Johnny 13 has decided to roll for a persuasion check.*

Johnny: It is known that a being who turned into a ghost has the basic abilities of a ghost and their own powers that they had once alive. The council was created to help ghosts find and accept their grave for not only the betterment of the ghost but the Realms itself. Therefore, as a halfa wouldn't it be useful for Phantom to have access to his full potential and for the betterment of the Realms.

*Johnny 13 has rolled a nat 1 on the persuasion check. Persuasion check has failed.*

Pandora: And, for that reason. For the betterment of the Realms, we do not recognize Amity Park as a grave. End. Of. Discussion.

Ghost Lawyer looks down at their clutched hands before shooting their head up to look straight at Pandora: Then you leave me no choice, Lady Pandora.

Pandora: *Squints her eyes in confusion before widening in realization.*

Ghost Lawyer raises their hand to gesture to the seat behind the Ancients: I call upon the vessel of Zeus to the stand.

Phantom snaps out of his relaxed state, eyes filled with panic and rage: *Low growl*

Johnny looks over in confusion: ......

The Ancients turn to the chair in anticipation: ......

???: Kekeke-

The chair turns around and reviled Vladimir Masters with yellow electronic-filled eyes.

Vladimir Masters: Well this just got interesting.

Zeus!Vlad

To Be Continued......

[solbaby7]

Sugar Kisses

warnings: sexual themes (not really smut but def alludes to it) , swearing, oral fixations, poor poker descriptions, idkkk i just picture cassian to be soft and flustered on the outside when he’s down bad but lowkey obsessed asf on the inside 🙂‍↕️

summary: Cassian has a sweet tooth for you and the things you do.

—

Cassian had come to the conclusion that lust was a shapeshifter.

Tonight, it seemed to favor you—setting up shop in the curves of your body and easing into the strappy little tank tops you favored and those flowy lounge pants that accentuated the curve of your ass.

Such simplicity and yet Cassian couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Utterly hypnotized—fixated solely on your mouth and the bright pink gum stuck between pearly white teeth. The slightly obnoxious chewing is soothed by the slow swipe of your tongue flattening it out, full lips parted, cheeks slightly puffing and the fruity scent blows his way when the bubble pops prematurely.

Your nose wrinkles in displeasure, tongue retrieving the remnants and tucking it back in your mouth to restart the process.

He’s hooked. Fingers digging roughly into the leathers on his thighs, worn fabric straining under the pressure but it holds strong. “Can I have another one?” Cassian hears you ask, a grin growing on your face when Azriel complies without even sparing a glance away from his cards. He pulls another from his pocket, handing it over with nothing more than a ruffle of the wrapper.

Mor huffs from her spot beside you, possessively hiding her cards as the game finally starts getting good. Her leg crosses over the other, upper body sinking further into the soft cushions when she cuts her eyes to Az and the pocket of treats he’d been steadily loading you with the whole night. “You’ve given her two already—if I have to hear her jaw smacking through this whole game, then I quit.”

Azriel breaks a smile, peeking over seven cards. “Was that a formal forfeit?”

And so it begins, that familiar banter that filled the living space once a week when the entirety of the Inner Circle gathered for family game night. It had been Azriel’s turn to pick and he always chose poker—robbing the High Lord and Lady of more gold coins than they cared to admit before deciding to sit the next round out to nurse their drinks instead.

They’re all so lax; so casual. While Cassian’s heart thudded like a bass drum against his chest, unable to stop noticing the way you were draped across the couch, taunting him with your every move. Painted fingers peel away at the faded red parchment before another bright ball of bubblegum was popped in your mouth.

It takes two whole minutes for you to smoothen everything out, all three pieces combining into one giant blob. Your cheek bulges on the side you chew on, lips sticky and tongue tinted. “That’s disgusting,” Mor whines, muttering complaints about the affects so much sugar would have on your teeth.

You take it in stride, rolling your eyes playfully as you pull your feet from her lap to move elsewhere. “Fine,” The lingering scent of your body wash fills Cassian’s nose when you plop down beside him with no regard for personal space or knowledge of the complete filth running rampant in his brain. “I’ll be disgusting over here—you don’t mind, do you Cass?”

Wide eyes framed by thick lashes peer up at him. They’re glassy, a side affect of the whiskey no doubt and an easy smile grows across his cheeks, body shifting to make room for you. “Not at all,” He answers softly, hoping that you don’t notice the way he all but shoves a pillow into his lap before your head finds a home there.

It’s not unusual. You were always the most affectionate when you were a little tipsy; five times more inclined to settle into whatever warmth you could find no matter who it came from and usually Cassian wouldn’t have minded. But you’re all sprawled out, hair fanning messily down his thigh with your neck bared and cheeks rosy.

The perfect temptation just within arms reach.

Tunnel vision takes over, golden eyes catching on the flimsy dip of your neckline. The soft fat of your breasts spilling upwards and Cassian actually finds himself jealous of the shiny gold necklace that rests between them.

“Why aren’t you playing?” Your voice pulls him from the trance, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes and a distinct warmth creeps up the back of his neck. “Usually we have to drag you away from the table.”

“Saving my luck for something more special.”

Someone more special, was more like it.

You hum in acknowledgement, finger twirling around the gum until bright pink fades into dusky hues from the strain. “Like what?” Cassian follows the hypnotic wrapping of your finger in the sweet treat, the pretty color a stark contrast to the dark polish on your fingers. Hearty laughs and soft chatter weaves a comforting symphony in the background as ice cubes melt in crystal glasses, watering down aged booze and creating a ring of condensation on the polished wood table. “Did some pretty little thing catch your eye?” You mean it as a joke and yet even after a few drinks you’re still terrifyingly attuned to Cassian’s shift in body language. His mouth clamping shut, hazel eyes drifting off to anywhere else—and maybe it was the firelight but you were certain you’d caught soft peachy tones beginning to warm his cheeks.

“Maybe.”

A flicker of emotion darkens your eye but it’s gone before Cassian can name it. “Do tell—I can keep a secret.” The same finger wrapped in pink raises to your mouth, glossy lips wrapping around until it disappears down to the knuckle.

Moisture coats his tongue, golden eyes shadowed with desire directed towards you and you alone. Maybe it’s the distraction that has the truth spewing from his mouth as if he’d injected a truth serum. “She’s—“ The crackling heat from the firelight feels slightly less comfortable now and Cassian can’t resist the way his body adjusts, hips bucking to settle better into the cushions. “Sweet.”

“That’s it?” You deadpan, the gum chewing momentarily pausing. “Come on, Cassian. I know you can give me more than that.”

It was a poor choice of words, like fuel being added to an already blazing fire. Need burns under the surface of Cassian’s skin, singing away at his self-control and his fingers itch to swipe away the strands of hair that tease at your collarbones. “She tests my self-control,” He answers vaguely, listing superficial features to mask the way honeyed eyes melt from the warmth lacing every word. “Wears my patience thin but otherwise a total dream.”

A total dream.

Your lips part to reply when Mor shouts her displeasure, throwing her hand of cards to the table while Az greedily slides his winnings to his side, shadows swiftly stacking like coins in neat piles. “You have to be cheating!”

“Come on, Mor. Don’t be a sore loser.”

Her wine sloshes over the rim of her glass, bright red seeping into a similar shade on her dress but Mor doesn’t mind a bit. Pointing an accusatory finger your way, her cheeks flush in frustration. “He cheated and you were an accomplice with that stupid gum.”

“If that’s all it takes to distract you then shuffle the deck,” You muse, making a show of blowing bubbles through your teeth and Cassian has to hide his laughter behind his knuckles when Mor flinches at the sharp sound. “I’ve been eying a pair of earrings in town— it’ll be the sweetest treat to purchase them with your money.”

“Oh, you’re on. If I win, you’re going to buy those earrings and then you’re going to give them to me.” Her heels are kicked off, the hem of her dress bunched up to make enough room for her legs to cross comfortably on the couch. “But, you have to spit that shit out first.”

With an eye roll you comply, showing off your tongue in all its stained glory. “Happy now?”

“..you swallowed it?”

“Spitters are for quitters.” Azriel spares his brother a glance, noting his fixed stare and that barely restrained clench of his jaw. The grip on the throw pillow conveniently placed in Cassian’s lap tightens, though it doesn’t hide a thing with the spicy scent of arousal tinging the air. “And, I don’t like to lose.”

Mor pauses her shuffling, eyes a little bleary and hands shaky from the alcohol. “Hm, maybe I should just forfeit before you end up conning me into giving you my apartment.”

“I do love your balcony.” You mumbled thoughtfully. “Private and with a view.” Crisp cards rustle against one another while you adjust the unruly ones and split it in two to shuffle. “The things a girl could do.”

Now you’re just being cruel, Cassian thinks. Mind wandering to the picture you’ve painted. You dressed in some skimpy silks or see-through gossamer, the winds chill cooling sweat slick skin after the rigorous physical activity the General would make you endure.

He gets stuck fantasizing about flushed cheeks and unbound hair. Lacy panties left in a messy heap on the floor and duvet sheets that reek of sex. Breakfast in bed with a sappy sunrise illuminating mouth shaped bruises along your neck while hand feeding you chopped fruit.

A fools dream. A sinners fantasy. A need that refuses to go unfulfilled.

“We doing this or not?”

Complying ends up being Mor’s downfall, with every second that passes you conjure up some new way to goad her on—adding to the stakes and then grinning like a fool when sliding the earnings over to your side. A shiny gold key dangles from one of your fingers, palms cradling a pouch of coins, a triumphant glow gracing your cheeks. “I hate you,” Mor grumbles but it only makes you laugh harder, hips shimmying in a little victory dance. “I’m going to bed.”

“Enjoy my sheets,” You tease, jubilance evident in the grin you sport as you wave her goodbye and even Azriel can’t fight a smile at the antics, your joy too contagious. “I’ll definitely be enjoying yours!”

Cassian tracks your exit, grinning to himself about the pep in your step and once you’ve finally gotten out of earshot he faces his brother. Azriel’s already looking, a knowing expression lingering in his eye as he pockets his winnings. “She can’t winnow, you know.” Cass’ brows furrow in confusion. “It’s dark out,” Az continues, tone holding a restrained amusement. “And awfully late for a female to be out travelling alone.”

“I don’t know what you—“

“Take her home, Cass.” There’s an annoying amount of smugness settling into the line of Azriel’s shoulders. It festers in his stride, steps casual and lacking any real urgency as if he wasn’t unveiling the crush his brother has had on you for years. “I know you want to—whole room fucking stinks of it.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“No, fuck her. Seriously, the sexual tension is making dinners unbearable.”

Az leaves him there, lips parted in what appears to be shock but Cassian identifies the feeling that emerges rather quickly.

He knows he shouldn’t haven taken it the way he does.

Like permission.

As if the locks to his cage had been picked open, iron bars creaking agape; urging Cassian forward, crooning for him to seek out what he’d fixated on during the entirety of his imprisonment.

Colorful candies and the stain they leave behind. Sticky lips, sugar kisses and coy smiles. Strappy pajamas with pretty lace trim. Dainty gold jewelry. Unbound hair and soft skin that smells of cocoa butter and comfort.

A sweet thing that Cassian’s just dying to sink his teeth into. He barely notices the way he seeks you out, body moving on autopilot; nose greedily huffing in the trail of your perfume until he sets eyes on you and the duffle bag at your feet. “Make a wrong turn, General?”

“M’not that drunk.” He hides the greedy flinch of his fingers by grabbing your things instead, just barely grazing the curve of your ankle—he thinks his hand would make the perfect chain around it. All his. Locked in place; to do with as he pleased. “Just here playing escort.”

“Only playing? Could’ve sworn you were trying your luck on something sweet.”

That makes him double-take. A brow raising as he’s frozen in place, watching the swish of your hips while you walk down the hall.

He’s certain he’s imagined it; the teasing way you’ve dangled a hot meal before a starving animal. But he can smell the sustenance, swears he can feel a hearty supper filling his maw and settling in his belly. Watches the way you peer over at him through half-lidded eyes, tongue stained red when it wets supple lips. “Hurry now, Cassie.” The strap of your shirt dips down the curve of your shoulder, lashes fluttery and flirtatious when you lean against the doorway. “Luck runs out.”

[fungateshortcakes]

Crochet me a mistletoe

Got this idea because, well, it's christmas and I recently started crocheting! I am nowwhere near as good as I described the skills of the reader. I can't even crochet a simple scarf. But practice makes perfect, and a girl can dream right? (Reader is gender neutral)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Its christmas at the mansion and you've crocheted everyone a special gift. What will Logan think about the present you made especially for him?

Wordcount: 4.9k

Warnings/tags: english is not my first language, none, fluff, slowburn-ish, friends to lovers, reader can crochet, painfully sappy, missunderstandings?, itty bitty bits of angst, happy ending

The x-men mansion in december felt like stepping into a festive snow globe. Frosted windows framed the place, a hord of students racing through the halls as they were excited to spent the christmas holidays at home with their families, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of christmas jingles that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

The large tree in the main living room was a masterpiece, each ornament carefully placed by a team effort of students and teachers. Even Logan had been forced politely asked to string the lights, grumbling about it the whole time while he was secretly ensuring that every lightbulb was perfectly in its place. Despite your reassurance that it was fine and that he could come down from the ladder already, he shook his head, a deep frown on his face as he munched on his bottom lip as he rearranged the lights for the 1000th time.

You sighed with a smile, deciding to let him do his thing. Yet you found yourself sneaking glances at him, something you had been doing more often than you cared to admit over the last few months.

He was rugged, rough around the edges and seemingly utterly out of place among the cheery holiday decorations, but there was something about seeing him standing by the firelight, a string of glittery garlands for the tree slung over his shoulder, that made your heart flutter.

But Logan was just your friend. A good one. And you weren’t about to mess that up by acting on a silly crush that wasn't anything more than that. So, instead of drooling at the way his muscles strained and dipped under the wife beater he wore even in this freezing weather while he helped decorating the place, you threw yourself into your newest hobby: crocheting.

For weeks, you had been holed up in your room, learning and practicing how to crochet everything from scarves, mittens and hats to cute plushies and useful items such as cup coasters or little bags.

It had started as a way to pass the time, especially when there was no mission you were sent to. And now that you were deep into the christmas holidays, you didn't even have a class to teach. That's when you realised you had nothing to do and it was time to find a new hobby.

But once you got the hang of it and felt like it wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, the idea of creating handmade gifts for your friends at the mansion had blossomed and you were eager to make a perfect present for everyone.

The work was slow but rewarding. You had already finished a soft scarf for Ororo in her favorite lavender colour that complimented her snow white hair and a set of soft, fingerless gloves for Hank in a deep navy blue. Each project felt like a little piece of yourself, stitched into every loop and knot.

But Logans gift had been different from the start.

It had taken you three tries to find the right yarn until you finally settled on a charcoal gray that would suit his style and features without standing out too much.

You decided on a sweater, something warm and practical that he could wear during the long, cold nights he spent patrolling the grounds. And, because you couldn’t help yourself, you added a small, personal touch. A tiny design embroidered over the heart, a pair of crossed claws encircled by a wreath of holly. You might as well, right? This project would take you a long ass time anyway, so a little embroidery wouldn’t hurt.

Crocheting actual clothing pieces like sweaters and jackets was a painstacking process, taking up lots and lots of yarn and taking forever. Only people you loved were worth that effort. You hoped Logan would know that once he held the finished products in hand.

Now with christmas eve approaching fast, the sweater was nearly finished. But you had other projects that you worked on simultaniously. If the task of crocheting another long chain for a scarf became too dreading and boring, you switched it up by continuing to work on a plushie.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna get yourself snowed in if you keep sittin’ there.”

Logans voice startled you, making you lose the stitch you were in. You looked up from your crocheting to find him leaning against the doorframe of the common room. The fireplace crackled warm beside you and outside the tall open window, there were snowflakes swirling in a gentle flurry. You sat cozy on the windowsill in your warmest clothes, enjoying the crisp breeze against your face and watching how the snow painted the garden of the mansion in a dazzling bright white, all while absentmindely crocheting your gifts.

“I like the view” you answered him with a soft smile, the yarn rolling between your feet as you pull at it “And I’m almost done.”

Logan left his spot at the door and stepped into the room, his boots making soft thuds on the wooden floor. “What’re you makin’?” You shook your head as you did only a little to hide the plushie you were crocheting “It’s a surprise” you teased.

Logan raised an eyebrow, hand in his pant pockets, his lips quirking into a smirk. “For me?”

You rolled your eyes with a soft giggle. “Only if you want a teddy bear plush in Scott's outfit" you said, throwing him a knowing look.

He shuddered in mild disgust, chuckled, then settled into the armchair across from you. “Nah, I'm good" he replied, putting his hands up in defence. Then his gaze landed on the bottom of the sweater, his soon to be sweater, that poked out from under your blanket draped over your lap. He pointed to it "I think one of 'em ugly christmas sweaters you are makin' would suit Summers better" he joked, thinking you would laugh along, but he noted your slight hurt frown. Him saying that he thought christmas sweaters were ugly made your heart sting painfully. You pulled the sweater under your blanket completely, shielding it from Logan. “It’s not ugly,” you mumbled, averting eyecontact with him.

In that moment, you weren't too sure about your gift for Logan anymore. The sweater you would give him wasn’t the usual christmas sweater with bright colours and corny patterns, but still, maybe he wasn't a sweater person? What if he didn't like it? He would never say it to your face, but just imagining his unimpressed face, a forced smile as he reluctantly thanked you, already thinking about the best and fastes way to get rid of the clothing piece, it made you want to cry already. All this effort for nothing?

You hadn't realised that you stared at Logan while you where deep in thought, a lit cigar hanging lazily between his lips. “Why’re you always starin’ at me?” Logan asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Your face heated. “I wasn’t staring. Just thinking” you pressed out, quickly picking up your crocheting again.

Logan blew smoke from out of his nostrils “Sure you weren’t” he said, but there was no teasing in his tone. If anything, he sounded curious, curious of what exactly you where thinking with your brows knitted together.

You focused on the yarn in your hands, on the way your hook looped easily through every stitch, willing yourself to act normal. This was fine. You were fine. “You’re workin’ too hard” Logan muttered after a moment. “Spendin’ all your time on this.”

You shrugged “It’s worth it” you smiled without looking up. “I want everyone to have something special this year. And what's more special than a present made especially for them. I guess the best gift is when someone thinks of you”

Logan looked at you. Looked at you for a long second and didn’t respond right away. When you finally glanced at him, his expression was unreadable, his gaze already turned away and fixed on the fire. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, ask him what he meant by that, Logan stood up, stretching his arms over his head. His white tank top rode up slightly as he stretched, your eyes staring at the dimples on his back before you shook your head, your cheeks on fire.

“Don’t stay up too late” he called, heading towards the door. “Santa don’t visit if you’re awake.”

You laughed, nodding your head dismissive manner “Goodnight, Logan.”

Logan smiled softly as he looked back at you one more time “Night, darlin’.” And then he was gone. You looked down at the half-finished sweater under your blanket, your chest tight as you sighed.

The mansion was alive with holiday excitement the next morning, despite the kids not being there. But if they were, you just knew that they would be buzzing about presents and sneaking peaks under the towering Christmas tree already.

You spent most of the day putting the finishing touches to most of your gifts, tucked away in a quiet corner of the common room. All your presents were nearly finished, except for the sweater you had planned on gifting Logan. You couldn't bring yourself to work on it anymore. You couldn't even look at it, too ashamed that you even came up with this idea.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that Logan appeared in the common room, carrying an armful of firewood. He always looked so effortlessly strong when he carried stuff, it almost made you drool over his forearms and hands. His flannel shirt was rolled up to his elbows, exposing his hairy forearms that had tiny snowflakes clinging to it.

You glanced up from your crocheting, trying not to stare too obviously.

“You been at that all day?” Logan asked, dropping the firewood near the fireplace with a loud thunk. He tried not to smile as he saw you bundled up with balls of yarn and wrapping paper surrounding you, a few ready gifts already stacked on top of the other, a hot cocoa with marshmallows steaming next to you on the coffee table.

“Almost done wrapping everything” you cheered, holding up a crocheted beanie for charles to keep his head warm.

Logans gaze locked onto the garment in your hands. His expression softened for a brief moment before he caught himself and cleared his throat. “Looks good” he said gruffly, turning his attention to the fireplace again.

You smiled faintly, folding the beanie neatly and tucking it into a small box with a gift card and putting it on the stack of finished presents after you wrote Charles name on it “Thanks.”

Logan unsheathed his claws and striked a match on one of them, shaking the tiny flame on a stick before throwing it to the pile of freshly chooped logs “You should take a break. All that knittin' and crochetin' must your fingers” Logan grumbled, blowing at the fire until the flames started to flicker to life, casting a warm glow across the room.

“I will once I am done with all of this” you replied to him, wrapping the next present aside. “it won't take long" Logan straightened back up, brushing his rugged hands on his jeans. “So, what are your plans tonight? Besides playin’ Santa Claus.”

“Ororo planned to watch a christmas movie with the team, I guess I will join them later” you replied, stretching your back a littlesince you had been sitting like a shrimp for the past few days, hunched over your projects. “Why, what about you?”

Logan shrugged "Not much" he cleared his throat “Might head out for a bit. Get some air.”

“On Christmas Eve?”

Logan gave a small, almost shy smile and shrugged “Never been much for all the holiday stuff.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You could stay in. Watch the movie with us.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. “Yeah? You think they wouldn’t mind?”

Your eyebrows raised as he seemed so unsure “Of course not" you denied, smiling warmly. “I can promise that they all want you there, Logan. I know I do"

That evening, the two of you settled into the couch along with Jean and Scott, a bowl of popcorn between you. Ororo sat draped over the seat next to the sofa, Rouge and Remy sitting in front of you on the ground while Kurt was sprawled out right in front of the TV, looking up at the flimmering box with a toothy smile. Even Charles had rolled in to join.

The movie, a classic Christmas move, The Grinch, to be exact, played on the screen, and even though it was one of your favourite christmas movies, you found yourself paying more attention to Logan than the plot.

He was unusually relaxed despite everyone being so huddled up together, leaning back against the cushions with his arms crossed over his chest. You fleetingly looked over to the present neatly tucked away under the tree. His sweater. You had decided to finish it after bickering over it for so long. Well, you didn't exactly have time to make him anything else. And if you did, it would only be half assed. And you didn't want that, Logan deserved more. Something special.

Halfway through the movie, Logan reached for the popcorn, his hand brushing against yours briefly. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a spark up your arm and you felt like you were part of a cheesy and cliche slowburn fanfiction.

You quickly pulled your hand away, your heart racing. “Sorry” he muttered, his voice gruff and quiet as to not alert the others. “It’s okay” you whispered back, trying to sound normal.

The room fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sounds coming from the TV, the crackling fire and a little hushed banter between Rouge and Remy. But you couldn’t stop stealing glances at Logan, your chest tightening with every second you spent sitting so close to him.

“Thanks for talkin' me into this” Logan said suddenly, his voice low. “Didn’t think I’d enjoy it much, but… it’s nice.” Your lips curved into a soft smile. “I’m glad.”

He looked at you then, his dark eyes catching the light of the fire. There was something in his gaze you couldn’t quite place, something warm and unguarded, even though a lot of people were around that could potentionally witness it. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared, leaving just the two of you sitting by the fire, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes.

Then Logan cleared his throat quietly, breaking the spell. “You’re really something else, I hope you know that” he muttered, his voice rough but sincere.

Your cheeks heated, and you looked down at your lap. There they were again, his words from yesterday. The thoughts you had repeated in your head the whole night, not knowing what they represented. “What do you mean?”

“You put all this work into makin’ people happy, to make 'em feel included even though they weren't into it at first.” He explained, draping a muscled arm over the frame of the couch. "You force people into their luck, ya know? Haven't seen anything quite like it"

You brushed a lock behind your ear. "I guess I just wanted to do something nice” you smiled softly. Logan let out a deep, content breath through his nose, looking at you, his eyes soft “Well, you did." Logan said, his gaze lingering on you.

For a second, you thought he might reach out and let the arm that rested over the couch snake around your shoulder to pull you into him, but then he shifted in his seat, his hand retreating to his side.

By the time the movie ended, everyone said their goodbyes and goodnights, swarming out to their rooms to sleep, letting the mansion fall quiet. Only Logan and you were left. You also wanted to just fall into your bed and sleep, but you were too tired already to get yourself moving.

Logan was the first to stand, stretching his arms over his head and giving you a good view of the prominent vein that cascaded below his waistband. You started to think he was doing this on purpose. “Guess I’ll head to bed too" he yawned, his tone thick.

Goodnight, Logan” you replied, watching as he headed toward the door.

He paused before leaving, turning back to look at you. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was soft when he spoke. “Night, darlin’. Sleep well.”

When he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

The morning sun filtered through the frosted windows of the mansion, bathing the common room in a golden glow.

Christmas Day had finally arrived, and the mansion buzzed with the christmas spirit of all. It was a bit overwhelming to see everyone in their christmas pyjamas sitting around the tree, eager for presents.

Logan was already there too, leaning against the mantle with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Well, you liked to sleep in okay? It wasn’t hard to be down in the common room before you.

Logans presence was as steady as ever, but there was a quiet contentment to him this morning, you noted. He looked up as you entered and something in his expression softened.

“Mornin’” he greeted, his voice low, smooth and warm from the hot coffee he was drinking. You lifted your hand in a tiny wave “Morning” you yawned, smiling as you made your way to the tree, the rest of carefully wrapped gifts in your arms that you had finished just the night before after the movie. You couldn't sleep anyway since the thought of Logan made you stay awake, might as well perfect your presents.

After a while, it was your turn to hand out your presents. You crawled under the large tree, gifting them one by one. You watched in glee as the room filled with laughter and delighted exclamations. Ororo beamed when she unwrapped the lavender scarf you had made for her and Hank was already slipping on his navy gloves. Charles shooked his head with a chuckle as he saw the beanie you had crocheted for him, letting his fingers trace over it.

Logan waited patiently, allthough he didn'texpect there to be something for him, his dark eyes following you as you worked your way through the pile of gifts, quietly enjoying the unfiltered reactions from everyone.

When there was only one wrapped gift left you had to hand out, Logan wondered who it could be for since everyone had gotten their present already. But as you turned to him, handing him the neatly wrapped box containing his sweater, his brow lifted in surprise.

“For me?” he asked, as if the idea of receiving a gift was foreign to him.

You giggled at his reaction "Of course. Did you really think I wouldn't give you something?" you asked, smiling shyly. You were just as nervous for him to open the present as he was.

Logan carefully peeled back the paper, his hands oddly delicate for a man who seemed to handle everything with brute strength. When the sweater emerged, he stared at it for a long moment, his thumb brushing over the tiny embroidered design near the heart. He remembered the colour. This was the sweater he had called ugly. He had called your thoughtful gift ugly. He was a horrible person.

“You made this? For me?" he whispered in awe, a little more to himself, his eyes tearing up slightly.

“I did” you nodded, fiddling with your fingers as your nerves ate away at your insides. “Do you like it?”

He looked up at you, his gaze piercing. “I...this is…” he trailed off, shaking his head as if he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he unfolded the sweater and pulled it on right then and there over his tank top. The fit was perfect and the sight of him in something you made with your own hands sent a warm flush through your chest. He looked like a chunky teddy bear and the urge to hug him was growing strong in your chest.

“Looks good on you” you said instead.

Logan’s lips twitched into a rare smile. “Feels good, too. Thank you.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of holiday cheer, but you couldn’t help noticing how Logan stuck close to you. He lingered near the kitchen while you baked cookies with Ororo and Rouge, his presence steady and reassuring. At one point, you caught him running his fingers over the sweaters fabric, his expression distant but content. He protected the sweater with his life, making sure no one ruined it by accidentally pouring wine over it. If just one atom of a cookie crumb were to touch the fabric, he would lash out.

It wasn’t until later that evening, after most had gone to bed and the mansion had settled into a peaceful quiet, that Logan found you sitting by the fire.

“You’ve been busy” he mumbled, his voice low as he sat down beside you.

“I guess I have,” you said, smiling. “It was worth it, though.”

Logan studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable like usual. Then he shifted and the next second, his big hand presented you a tiny wooden figurine, a little cat, carefully hand carved by him. "S'for you" he muttered, averting his gaze. The light of the fire did only so little to hide his embarrassed blush.

You gasped, taking the cat into your hands as if it was made out of glass and would break if you looked at it the wrong way "Did you....did you make this?" you asked him and he nodded reluctantly. You never thought Logan was into wood carving. But now that you knew, it made sense. "Yeah...didn't want to give it to you when everyone else was 'round. No need for 'em to know I have this hobby" he explained to you, picking at a loose thread on his sweater. Your stomach felt warm as you thanked him, holding onto his little present tightly.

You could feel Logans gaze on you as you admired his neat craftmansship, warm and steady and it took everything in you not to lean into him.

“Y’know” he said, breaking the drawn out silence between you “this is the best christmas I’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever.”

You looked up at him “Really?” you asked, your mouth agape in wonder.

“Yeah” he said, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile that was rare to see from him “And I think I’ve got you to thank for that.” Your heart swelled and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and placed your hand over his. Logan stiffened for only a short moment, his gaze darting to your hand, but then he relaxed, his fingers curling around yours.

“You’re welcome” you whispered softly. Logan didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

The fire started to die out, only faintly gleaming but still enough to wrap you and Logan in a light of warmth. Logans hand was still in yours, his warmth seeping into your skin as the quiet surrounded you both. You couldn’t remember how long you had been sitting there, since when you started to lean against him, head on his shoulder, but time seemed to stretch and slow, every second weighted with something unsaid.

“Darlin’” Logan finally murmured, his voice so soft it felt like it was meant for you alone. “Do you ever think about… settlin’ down?” the question caught you off guard for a second and you turned your head to look at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Settling down?”

“Yeah” he breathed, his gaze fixed on the low fire. He found an iron rod to dig and shove between the wooden logs that had long turned into coal and ash, trying to distract himself so the words would come easier. “Findin’ somethin’, someone, you can hold onto. Somethin’ real. Y'know, not these kinds of meaningless situationships.”

Your breath hitched and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Logan, the man who had always seemed like a force of nature. Wild, untamed and unyielding—looked almost vulnerable now, his expression open and unguarded.

“I guess I’ve thought about it. It would be nice to have that someone. The right person you can lean onto any time” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt like you were leaning against that one person just now. “Have you?”

He let out a soft, almost self-deprecating laugh. “I didn’t think I had to. Thought I wasn’t the type for all that. But lately…” He trailed off, finally turning to meet your gaze, looking down at you cuddled up against him “Lately, I’ve been thinkin’ maybe I was wrong.”

The room felt impossibly still, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. “Logan” you began, your voice trembling slightly “what are you trying to say?” allthough the answer seemed obvious, you feared you weren't understanding him correctly.

He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “I’m tryin’ to say that I care about you. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I know I’m not the easiest guy to be around, but… you make me wanna try. Make me wanna be better.”

Your chest tightened, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Logan…” were you imagining things? Were you actually by the windowstill, all alone, dying from the cold Logan warned you about? The cold that looked gorgeous from inside a warm room but was vicious in its beauty, killing you because you wouldn't listen and close the window? Were you just taking your last breath, your mind tricking you into dreaming about what could be?

“I know I’m probably messin’ this up" he swallowed deeply, his voice rough with emotion. “But I had to tell you. Couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

His words were real, his warmth, his soft breath fanning across your face. You weren't dying. You were just starting to live. “You’re not messing anything up" you shook your head, voice breaking slightly.

His eyes searched yours and for the first time, you saw a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “You mean that?”

Instead of answering, you leaned up, closing the space between you. Logan froze for a split second before his arms came around you, pulling you close into his lap as your lips met in a kiss that felt like coming home after a harsh and straining day out in the cold.

It was soft and tentative at first, but as the seconds stretched on, it deepened, the barriers between you dissolving like snow in the sun. Your hands laid flat against his chest, feeling the warm and fuzzy fabric underneath your fingers. Logan sighed from his nose as the kiss deepened, a quiet, longing noise forming in the back of his throat.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling in the silence of the room.

“I care about you too” you whispered. “More than I can even put into words.”

Logan let out a soft, shaky laugh, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Guess that makes us both pretty bad at talkin’ about feelings.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of relief. “Maybe. But I think we’re doing okay.”

Logan nodded “Better than okay" he murmured, pressing another kiss to your mouth. He was already getting addicted to this.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of warmth and quiet joy. Logan stayed by your side, his hand never straying far from yours as the two of you talked about everything and nothing. You felt like two teenagers that had sneaked away from everyone else to enjoy the thrill of making out and cuddling like in a sappy romance novel.

By the time the first light of dawn crept through the windows, you found yourselves curled up on the couch together, a soft blanket draped over you both. Logans arm was around your shoulders, and your head rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long while. The sweater he still hadn't taken off (and wouldn’t for a while) acting like a soft pillow under your face.

“Good night, darlin'” Logan murmured, his lips brushing against your hair before he looked out the window, the sun rising slowly. He knew it wouldn’t take long before the others flodded the room, but he wanted you to sleep and rest, even if it was just for an hour. He kind of felt bad for keeping you up until the sun literally rose again, but how was he supposed to fall asleep when he just found out you loved him back?

“Good night, Logan” you whispered, smiling as you closed your eyes.

For the first time, you knew without a doubt that this was where you were meant to be - wrapped in Logans arms, your hearts stitched together like the threads of a handmade gift, stronger and more beautiful for the care put into every moment you shared with him.

I've never tried putting dividers like this before, how do we like it? I am also sorry that I am not quite posting this on christmas anymore. I just always get the ideas so late and randomly that I can't get it out on time.

I can't type anymore bc my hands are literally that cold and now, update, i read over it and corrected some mistakes. If you still see any, im sorry😔🙏🏻 I've fallen you all

Merry christmas🎄🎀

[ajellybee]

I am a firm believer that sex is NOT the only gift you should give someone as a gift HOWEVER...

imagine a full day of festivities on Christmas day with your husband, Nanami. You guys exchanged gifts almost feeling like you were trying to top each other with the next gift you watched each other unwrap.

You got Nanami the watch he showed some interest to -> he handed you the little wrapped box of the newest Vivienne Westwood drop

You watched him unwrap a new standing mixer -> he pushed a box towards you that contained your favorite perfume that was discontinued years ago.

Do you get the gist now? BUT!! you had one last card up your sleeve, after having a dinner full of giggles and laughs you stand up abruptly. Nanami raised an eyebrow but didn't ask where you were going.

"Could you clean up here, ken? I have one more gift I wanna give you" You smile softly at him, trying to look as innocent as possible

"Honey, that's no fair you're giving too much" he furrowed his eyebrows realizing you gave more than he gave you

"no no, it's okay, my love. It's something small don't worry" Again you give the same innocent smile and instead of questioning further Nanami sighs and nods, moving to clean the dining table. "Okay give me like 5 minutes" You run upstairs to your shared room and get to work. While in the shopping district, you ran across a small intimacy store. From the open door, you could see some of the lacy pieces so you decided to check it out, and it's a good thing you did because you found the sexiest set ever, dark forest green with intricate embroidery. It left nothing to the imagination and you knew it was going to be Nanami's favorite set.

after doing a once over making sure everything was perfect it was go time.

"Okay, ken- honey. I'm done" you called for him and right when you finished your sentence the said man opened the door, seems as if he was waiting for your go-ahead to walk in.

"Oh, my love..." In three big strides, he makes his way to you, large hands finding themselves on your waist, rubbing up and down. "Gimmie a spin yeah?" giggling you do as he asked slowly twirling in a circle so he could take everything in. "this is your 'something small'?" he scoffed. Because to him this was anything but. His favorite color looks heavenly against your skin. And the way it fits so snugly against you, highlighting all your soft curves, he was practically drooling. Nanami pulls you in for a kiss groaning as his hands roam down to cup your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. You pull away and make your way to the bed and set on the edge. Nanami watches as you spread your legs apart revealing what he wanted to taste most at the moment, and much to his surprise (and satisfaction) the slit in the middle of your lingerie exposed your glistening folds and he falls to his knees immediately ready to devour you.

"Merry Christmas, Ken"

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

small Christmas piece I wanted to do. Happy holidays!! and if you don't celebrate anything I hope you have/had an amazing day !!! <333

[isadelusions]

Daisuke [Mouthwashing]

| vlogger x editor(reader) au | fem reader | fluff | pt1 > pt2

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

Pretty Duo hm?

- He’s been making videos for quite a while and hired an editor because he isn’t too experienced with editing.

- He makes a video pretty much every week, sends it to you, tells you some details he would for his video with a little, you’ll edit, sends the finished product, he loves it and post. Repeat.

- After a few weeks, the both of you started chatting with each other regularly,checking up on each other, talked about the similar hobbies you guys share, laughing at each other’s cringe roblox usernames. You guys even decided to have matching avatars.

-From chatting daily to having voice calls for random game nights to FaceTiming. You were shy at first to reveal your face but as time goes by, you eventually got comfortable with it. (Bro was gagged by your face card)

“I must be lucky to have a pretty editor like you. ;)” ,that line totally send butterflies to your stomach.

- One time he asked if you would like to be in a video and play roblox with him. At first you were quite hesitant since his number of followers were slowly rising and afraid that it would destruct his fans.

“Well if they start hating me, just let them. I rather have that then having some fake fans you know??” “Plus I’m just here to have fun so what can they do? Mhm?”

- After his reassurance, you agreed and record the video together online.

—— ✿ ——

“heyyy guysss I’m back again to play some roblox BUT this time with some company, guys act shocked act shocked,just kidding. Anyways this time I’ll be playing with my lovely editor~”, his screen showing both him and your avatar, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

There was a long pause. “Um…hi?” You said awkwardly as you don’t have much experience being recorded.

But after a while,you got used to it and the both of you decided to play some two player obbies. At first it was going smoothly, just simple jumps and walks. However, when you guys got closer to the end, the difficulty rises.

“DAISUKE PLEASE DONT MISS THE JUMP OR I MIGHT ACTUALLY BREAK. DOWN.”

“STOPP,YOUR STRESSING ME PRETTY GIRLL”

Your skin tingles every time he calls you that but it didn’t make you feel better. He indeed did miss the jump.

…a very long silence

“Alright,breathe in….and breathe out… We can do this..”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, let’s try one last time before I might actually start raging”

You guys were extremely locked in and passed the final stage miraculously.

“WE DID ITTT (y/n), YAYYY”

“EYY GOODJOBB”

You made your character walk in circles around daisuke’s character and he mirrors your actions too.

You then looked at the time to realise it took almost two hours to complete the obbies, it’s already 1am which is quite alright since we’re used to it but you suddenly remembered you had other ‘important’ plans in the morning and cut off daisuke’s next sentence.

“hmm what should we play next-”

“As much as I would love to continue this all with you but I really have to head to bed right now”

“Ouh finally sleeping quite earlier then usual, aren’t we?”

“well I do have plans for tomorrow, quite important to me heh..”

“Okayy then, have a good sle-” he then pauses, his mind recalling his previous chats with you and the puzzle pieces matched. “Wait, your going to that cat cafe you talked about right??? I do remember you sending me a post about it opening for tomorrow or more like ‘later in the morning’ hmm?”

“Yeaaa, oh wait I did told you about it.”

“Could I go with you,pleasee. It’s not too far from my area and plus you get to meet ‘this gorgeous cool guy’ for first time in your lifeee.”

You felt ??? by the sudden plan of his, “mhmmm sure I don’t mind honestly”

“wait really??” “Ofcourse”

“I’ll text you the details later before I head to bed, I gotta go get myself cleaned up. Do remember to send me the clips before heading to bed. Soo I’ll see you tomorrow then hm? ;)”

“Yupp, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Have a good sleep if it’s possible~”

“Alright, goodnight pretty boy” You immediately left the call and got up from your seat, heading to the bathroom to get a quick wash up.

The excitement for ‘tomorrow’ was rising in you but yet feeling nervous and curious. How tall would he be? Would his behaviour be completely different? The thoughts were filling up your mind.

You head to bed with your phone, texting him about the plans while your allow your body to lay on the bed,sheets covering your body, head against your soft pillow.

“How about we meet up at a metro station first? Then we could walk tgt to the cat cafe? How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds great to me;)”

Daisuke replied almost instantly and brought up about having matching outfits and of course you couldn’t turn that offer down.

“hmm let’s match in colours then?”

“Suree”

“Any colours in mind?”

“Hmm, not really”

“Me too honestly. How about I’ll choose it tmr while I pick my outfit hm?”

“Sure but don’t be too lateee”

“Says the one who rarely reads chats in the morning”

“Man shut it, as if you’ll wake up in time”

“Okay okay you win. I guess I gonna sleep now or I’ll be late right, pretty?”

“Alright, goodnight to you”

“Night to you as well”

A small smile plastered across your face as you place your phone onto the small table beside you.

It def took you almost like an hour to only fall asleep due to your own excitement.

-I can picture daisuke kicking his own legs before having his sleep lol

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

I think it will take a long while for me to post parts for this,I’m still new to writing and honestly I’m scared I won’t be able to write the next part. Anyways I hope you guys had a little joy in reading this,take care of your health!loveyouu byee~ :o

[sun-kissy]

for the christmas sleepover

sirius black + hugging them from behind 🧣

i hope i send this in correctly! i love ur work!🤍🤍🤍

you absolutely did send it in correctly angel! and thank you <333

— hugging them from behind

sirius black x whimsical!reader

summary: sirius comes home to you watching your christmas cookies bake!

The dull ache in your knees starts to get worse. You decide to shift from kneeling into a cross-legged position instead, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders. 

The marble kitchen floor is cold where it touches your feet, even colder because of the weather. If he were here right now, Sirius would scold you for not turning the heater on. But the warmth from the oven helps a little. 

You watch as the little mounds of cookie dough expand, turning golden brown, before they sink. It’s like a vicious cycle, you think. You rise just to fall.

The door creaks open; faulty hinge you’ve been procrastinating oiling. You know it’s your boyfriend. He’s humming, the same song he hadn’t stopped singing since that rom-com you watched together last week.

“Hello,” you call out softly, not turning back to look at Sirius. Your eyes flick over to the timer before being drawn back to the cookies.

“Hey –” you hear the shuffling of his sock-clad feet on the floor before his arms wrap around your waist. “Hey, pretty girl.” Sirius kisses your cheek.

“Hi,” you mumble again, turning into him as he stamps another to your forehead. You’re glad he’s home.

He tugs you closer, legs going on either side of yours. “Are those cookies?”

“Duh.”

He chuckles, unable to resist giving you another peck. “And why do they have green bits in them?”

You look at him like he’s stupid, and he wants to kiss you again. But he decides to let you say your piece.

“Because there’s avocado in them,” you say, with a sweet, sweet smile. “Green. And the ones over there,” you chuck your head towards the platform, where another tray lays, “have strawberry bits in them. Red.”

“For Christmas?” Sirius guesses.

“For Christmas.”

“You absolute genius,” he indulges, rubbing the fat of your stomach lovingly. You get shy just like he expected you to. Sirius always knew exactly what to say — which was almost anything, really — to turn you red.

“It’s not that genius,” you mumble, turning away.

“Hm,” he helps cover you up more properly in the blanket as he nudges your neck with his nose, “but it is.”

His heart does something silly when he catches sight of your bashful smile.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweet thing,” he says happily, appeased when you turn your face towards him for a kiss. “Now, why don’t I lay out another blanket on the floor for you to sit on? Then you can watch your cookies bake without freezing to death.”

You giggle and nod; Sirius takes it as a victory. He turns the heater on before laying a blanket out underneath you.

You ask him to sit by the oven with you and he can’t say no. He’d watch the fireworks with you the next morning, but he could watch the cookies bake with you now.

san's christmas sleepover

[weepingchronicles]

This may sound bland but can you do Jinx with a darling who has just been recaptured after they escaped a second time tyy

a/n: not bland at all! thank you for waiting and requesting this!

cw: mental breakdown mentions, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome(?), killing mentions, manipulation, yandere behavior, EXTREMELY unhealthy relationship guys, physical violence

❝yandere!jinx x gn!reader getting recaptured❞

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 It doesn't take very long for Jinx to catch you, even if you are thinking you're safe she is simply lurking, watching you until she decides it is time to take you back.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Her initial reaction when you escape is not very good. Full psychotic breakdown is what I'm saying. She will start hearing and seeing things, it's best to be slow and quiet to not risk getting accidentally shot.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She might even accidentally kidnap others who she mistakes for being you, simply killing them off after she realizes.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You're all her mind can think about, any other matter or responsibility she has right now is unimportant in her mind. Not that she thinks they were important anyway.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Once she finally finds you she wants to just knock you out and take you back where you belong but she stops herself. Like a feline, she lurks and watches you. Baiting her time to sink her claws into you. How did you manage to escape and what have you been doing since then? Who helped you?

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 If you got help from others or god forbid, start laughing and being all buddy buddy with someone they are gone. Gone, dead, bam. One reason is the impulsivity and her damn possessiveness. It is what makes her pull the trigger to anyone who stands too close to you. Another is to teach you a lesson, a valuable lesson that no matter what you can't escape her. She'll find you in the end and will kill anyone who knew about it.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 A sadistic part of her gleams as you cry all pathetically, it almost makes her angry that you're crying about a bunch of losers who you barely even knew. You should be reaching out to her, crying for her.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She drags you home anyway, mumbling out a bunch of threats and battling the voices in her own head. If you want to survive without any bullets penetrating your body, it's best to keep quiet and listen.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Getting home isn't any better, the whole place is a mess. More than it was before. It's clear she lost her marbles when you left, from furniture thrown and bullet dents in the walls.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She'll toss you around, screaming at you for leaving her, pointing her gun just a little too close. She's erratic and there is no stopping her.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You flinch, ducking your head and shielding your head in a futile attempt of protection. You were scared of her. How could you not be? Jinx takes a pause, looking down at her gun in her trembling hand before throwing it over her shoulder completely.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She drops to her knees, wailing in tandem with you, perhaps even louder. Jinx clings onto you, grasping at your limbs and clothes like you're deprived oxygen.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I wouldn't ever hurt you. I'm sorry, please don't leave me!" A part of Powder comes out of her and her desperation eerily resembles a broken child inside. Some piece of you aches despite the pain she's caused you. It isn't entirely her fault she is born this way, what her trauma caused her to be.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You can't forgive her though, not after all that's been done but.. you can pretend. "Please don't leave me again," and you nod in response.

artist credits: @/iwantmoretime17 on instagram

[mlyscha]

𝒥𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌, 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌 & 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗌

( ENHYPEN ── 𝒻𝗼𝗿. 𝓜OMENTS. ) ౨ৎ ℐ𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 . . . they make christmas gifts with their own hands (with you). 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 : fluff, festive. 𝓌𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌! simple and resumed writing. ( 𝗐𝖼. 9OO ) 𝓮𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮' … 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋-𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 ༘ . 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋.

𝒶-𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. happy christmas everybody!! enjoy some time with your family, friends and beloved ones. i hope many many good things reach you! and if you don't celebrate christmas, i wish you a great day full of happiness! <3 and by the way, i am on a vacation so this might not be thaaaat good but try to enjoy this christmas headcanon i wrote with so much love.

𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍! ♡ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾&𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀&𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.

𝒽eeseung ( 희승 )

YOU AND HEESEUNG WERE PLANNING to do something memorable this christmas, celebrating not just the presents, but love.

therefore, heeseung decided to craft essences with you and then trade perfumes. you had never heard of that kind of craft shop before, but it was pretty amusing.

it was cute watching him all cute listening to the instructions, making sure that your perfume was matching your vibe and how he liked it ─ of course.

in the end of the “class”, he gifted the perfume in a small white box, adorned with a loose pink ribbon─ because he couldn’t tie it right. meanwhile, you gifted his in a small black box adorned with a red ribbon. also, you could write a letter to yourself or your loved one, gifting love to the one you love. with that, he couldn’t hold himself but write: For this and lots more christmas, I love you forever, Heeseung.

𝒿ongseong ( 제이 )

JONGSEONG LOVES PAMPERING YOU WITH gifts, but this christmas, you told him you wanted to create memories: going to a fancy necklace craft shop.

the necklace shop offered crafting silver or gold jewellery that could last for life— meaning that it wasn’t supposed to get oxidised.

there was a plenty of fun ways to create your jewellery. therefore, you and jongseong decided to go for a digital print design with a simple note on the back.

you went for a gold piece because you thought it made your boyfriend’s skin and beauty pop, getting your digital print done and writing: Mine, yours, ours forever. meanwhile he wrote: I love you, thank you, forever— simple but meaningful, for sure.

𝒿aeyun ( 제이크 )

JAEYUN LOVES SPENDING TIME WITH you, and nothing better than gifting him quality time while crafting gifts for each other; for christmas. with that, you brought him to a pottery shop, hoping he would enjoy pottering like the last time— on valentine’s day.

and oh boy, jaeyun liked that. besides him looking at you in a certain way while carving the bottom of the pot with his hands, it was overall very amusing and cute.

in the end, after the pottery was completely dry, a beautiful painting could be created. and of course, jaeyun with his cheesiness problems, painted you and him with a christmas tree on the side, writing: christmas with bae! 12/25. ( y/n is the cutest <3 )

𝓈unghoon ( 성훈 )

SUNGHOON BROUGHT TO A RING crafting shop, because he thought: i want matching rings, ‘cause— pffftt… just one couple ring isn’t enough!

with that, you two went to a fancy ring crafting shop from a luxury jewellery brand. you both went for the silver ring— since it is a dating ring —and then added each others initials in a tiny font (to keep it more discreet and elegant); and then wrote on the side of the hoop the date and a little note: Forever our love, forever us.

and by the way, sunghoon while crafting this ring with you, couldn’t be more excited to one day make this a big surprise, asking you to be his fiancé.

𝓈unoo ( 선우 )

SUNOO IS A SOFTIE FOR handmade things, always writing a letter for you besides the present he is giving to you. and this time, for christmas, he decided to buy a bracelet kit— in which you could create your own bracelet.

you were so excited because it reminded you of your childhood and now you are complementing this memory with your loved one.

after many laughter, smooches and enthusiasm, you both finished and gave it to each other. both of you tried to match each others vibe, and it was successful!

sunoo loved the bracelet you made for him and you absolutely loved what he design for you, focusing on your name formed by the beads he carefully placed one by one. this is the proof christmas is more than presents, but about moments and simplicity.

𝒿ungwon ( 정원 )

JUNGWON REALLY WANTED SOMETHING MEANINGFUL and beautiful to gift for you for christmas.

his idea was lovely: bring you to necklace shop in which they take a very close-upped picture of each other’s iris and turn it into a beautiful memory that can be hanged around your neck.

you found the idea pretty amusing and beautiful once you heard about he’s plans, so he counted your amusement and brought you to the crafting shop— a fancy place, by the way.

you could choose between silver and gold jewellery and you matched his choice. overall, the picture came out really pretty and the necklace is kept around jungwon’s neck forever since; saying he is bringing a piece of you with him everywhere.

𝓇iki ( 니키 )

RIKI WANTED TO GIVE YOU something useful but at the same time meaningful. thinking like that, he decided to personalise a hoodie that at the same time matched his— couple like outfit.

so he took you to this cosy personalisation crafting shop and asked them to personalise a hoodie, describing what he wanted to write and the vision he was going for; letting the shop take it on their own hands to design it.

however, riki precisely asked to be the one painting it— with you, of course.

in the end, the hoodies came out so cute and a memorable moment was created. the design matched christmas and each other, but at the same time it looked kind of romantic and soft.

and of course, can’t forget about a specific part of the design in which his hoodie says: I love christmas. and yours said: I am christmas!

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆ 24.

[hurlingdown]

Oh your themes just keep getting better! I love them all. Okay, that isn’t what I am here for, though.

Fever. Induced. Shanks. Please, please, he’s sick, hot and absolutely washed over by exhaustion and fatigue from being sick for a week. He needs you. Wants you. So damn desperately. He couldn’t even see you for this time period. He’s on the verge of losing his sanity. He can’t already sleep, now you on his mind is heating him more up than the fever.

He wipes his tars all over his face, and neck, and the back of his ears and air jumps as he fingers himself envisioning you. Moaning out your face, whimpering in the sheets, siding his pelvis with no embarrassment lingering over his mind. Just a feverish rush to satisfy his craving of you. Luckily for him, you were delivering him some chicken soup, when you stumbled upon the sight of your captain/husband in such a whoreish manner.

“Oh god, please go in farther, you’re fucking torturing me. Oh, yes, yes, YES, right there, sweetheart, right ther—“ The door swung open with you leaning against the rack of the door with the smuggest smile he has set eyes on. “Alone, there, cap’n?” You decide to tease because you know how much he messes you. How could not he not? You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him, either.

“Shit, uh, hey… um, is that soup for me? Thanks, you can just, uh, set it by my night stand.” You do as he tells you, as you crawl up in the bed with him, you whisper into his ear, “I think you’re feeling better. Need some pleasing?” His face sharply grows red, as he feverishly nods and tries kissing you. “Ah, ah, ah, no kissing. You don’t want me getting sick, now, do we?” He chuckles a bit, “eheh… no, we don’t. S’rry.”

You smile gently as you slid his waist on your lap and set him bank down on his resting pillow. “Relax, I got you covered. Just let me do everything, you’ll feel better in no time, baby.” As he dangles his arms on your shoulders as he positions himself over your dick, and slides onto it with suck silk it makes you shiver. “Good boy.” You smother onto his neck.

You can tell how exhausted he really is by not being the first one to move, and as you move him, he’s half your pace. Not quite realizing it for himself, enwarped with moaning and lock-jawing with the pleasure. It’s an enthralling sight, honestly, you thank the gods everyday for giving you such a man as your partner.

“There, god, fuck! You’re- so s’good!” He praises with a little more volume than honest antipathy; but you shake it aside because he’s suffering. His little mewls and pants enthrall you into a euphoric urge to cum alongside with him. “-um! I-I’m-gonna…! Ah, fuuuuuuuck, yes… finally.” Your dick twitches only in response to his heightened squeezing of your thighs and cum trickles drown your lap. You manage to cum a few seconds after he does sending him into his second euphoria with his high sending spine-chilling sparks.

“God, you just get better and better and fucking me like a toy, dont’cha?” He smirks while laughing. “If you really need to get toyed around while, u should tie you up and edge you until you’re cumming from the air, alone. How’s that sound?” His inaugurating expression lights up with a twinkle of sinister desire. “Sounds like fun time, we should do after I’m better, baby.” You laugh as you nod in agreement. “Hope I won’t make you sick again by torturing you~.”

I mainly wrote this because I’m getting over a fever and cold, and it’s finals week. One more week. We all can do this. Good luck to everybody. I wish all a satisfying and successful graded finals. (That was such a bad execution 😭)

I was going to add Zoro, Law, and possibly Robin but I got lazy.

- Saturn 🪐

we are all getting colds and fevers at the worst time possible 😭 i hope you're doing alright now!!! take good care of yourself and sleep more now that finals are over!!

let me get into this piece now. wow. shanks. can't believe i haven't written for him yet, because what a catch. funny, handsome and absolutely erotic. the way you've written him is just huuu 😮‍💨

the charm of shanks is how honest he is. you could put him in a mating press, a downward doggy or literally anything and he would describe his pleasure in explicit detail. "please go in farther" sir this is not a drive through. i imagine it gets 10x worse during a fever

my point is. this was so hot!! thank you for the meal!!!!!

[myimaginationplain]

This beautiful piece of fan art by @/stickymaelk on Twitter made my brain start whirling around an Arcane x Soul Eater AU that I'm sure I won't be able to get out of my head for a little while, so here are my fledgling headcanons:

Jayce & Viktor are obviously partners, with Jayce being the meister & Viktor the weapon. Viktor has a very closed-off soul & finds it near impossible to partner with anyone other than Jayce (ala Soul). Jayce has a very large, kinetic soul-wavelength that he can use to attack sans his weapon ala Black☆Star, though he wouldn't necessarily want to. He has an easier time pairing up with other people compared to Viktor, but most other weapons would find his wavelength overwhelming. Jayce grew up in Death City with his mother. They're probably the first of their class to make a Death Scythe. I absolutely see the two of them getting into a Maka-&-Soul-esque dilemma where Jayce develops a complex around needing to protect Viktor at all costs, despite it being the weapon's job to protect their meister. The handle of Viktor's hammer-form takes on the aesthetic qualities of whatever cane he's using at the time.

Caitlyn is the first meister in Kiramman family history (maybe she gets it from Tobias's side?) & her deciding to pursue this path has created a rift between she & Cassandra. Caitlyn & Jayce hit it off during their first week at the DWMA & she was extremely disappointed to find out he wasn't a weapon. Caitlyn goes through her entire first semester without having chosen a weapon before Death Scythe Grayson reccomends she pair up with Vi; the two of them never would have seriously considered the other before, but they work like a charm. Maybe they eventually have a little breakup arc where their partnership dissolves & Caitlyn picks up Maddie as her new weapon, but they can't resonate the same way she & Vi could.

Vi & Powder are kind of a combination of the Thompson sisters & the Nakatsukasa siblings. Like Liz & Patty, they're both modern firearms. But whereas Vi only has one form (a rifle) like Masamune, Powder is a multi-form weapon like Tsubaki; she can turn into a handgun, a canon, a grenade, a time-bomb, etc. Vi lowkey wishes she were a meister so that she & Powder could've been partners, & has a bit of an inferiority complex about not being a good enough weapon. The two of them were taken in & raised by the DWMA along with Ekko. Maybe their parents were all meisters and/or weapons who were killed by witches or something. Powder absolutely gets injected with Black Blood at some point. At some point before either of them had official partners, Jayce & Vi tried to pair up & it was an absolute disaster (their souls are like the immovable object vs the unstoppable force, lol).

Ekko is a meister & Powder's partner. The two of them decided to be a pair before they were even officially enrolled at the DWMA. Ekko has a grigori soul (ala Maka), which helps to counteract Powder's madness post-Black Blood infusion. If they ever formed a team of weapon-meister pairs like Spartoi, then Ekko would definitely be the leader. Powder worries that she's dragging Ekko's as a meister potential down with her.

Mel has a Stein-esque soul, in that she can meister any weapon with ease &, like Jayce, can fight without a weapon (she's more adept & eager to do so than Jayce is). Her most common weapon partner is Elora, & sometimes Sky (I definitely see Sky having Marie's healing wavelength). Maybe Elora is killed in battle (sorry girl) or decommissioned some other way, & Sky becomes Mel's primary weapon after that? The Medarda's are a long, unbroken line of prodigious meisters & weapons, & Mel definitely feels the weight of that legacy. Mel is revealed to be part witch ala Kim.

[vrystalius]

The best gift

It’s the best time of the year — gifting season! So, your husband decided to gift himself to you as a gift… how will they do it?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyuu x gn!reader

MDNI- Minors do not interact please! This is slight NSFW/very suggestive.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

After pondering and visiting all kinds of stores across Japan while he’s supposed to be hunting and slaying demons, Sanemi figured the best gift he could give you is himself. What more would you want besides snacks and your dear husband? But since it’s the holiday season, why not present himself like a proper gift.

Sanemi tried to bind himself with the help of thick ribbons, but one can only do a good job with one hand and under time pressure to get ready before you call him over to open gifts, so his appearance now looks more like a last minute thought rather than a carefully thought out plan to seduce you with him being presented to you like a beautiful gift you could use all for your needs, whatever they might be.

After binding his hands together, Sanemi slapped one last bow in the center of his naked chest (and a smaller one right above his crotch area) as a finishing touch and proceeded to seat himself next to the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, waiting on you to notice your impatient, half naked husband trying to appear alluring while also not being able to move too much without compromising the ribbons.

“What are ya waiting for? You want me to oil up as well or something?!”

Actually, thanks to the tape he used, after being freed and unwrapped by you, Sanemi got a very cheap hair removal job. You had to treat the burn marks while he fussed about them not being a big deal.

Kyojuro Rengoku

After taking Tengen’s joke about gifting himself to his wife for the holidays too serious, Kyojuro bought multiple packages of red and gold wrapping paper, sparkly ribbons and a large bow as a final detail. First, he tried to wrap every limb individually but realised that he looked like a very unloved robot with all the tube looking shapes and wrinkled paper, so Kyojuro tried again. This time, he wrapped himself whole and just kinda sat beside the decorated tree in the living room, looking like a sack of potatoes that was decorated by golden ribbons and bows. Despite his appearance, your husband was waiting for you to finally unwrap him.

Although he does feel slightly guilty for just making a scrap book containing all of your memories together that looks more like a toddler’s art project rather than a sincere attempt to eternalise the best memories of you two and then wrap himself in wrapping paper and present himself as your second and probably better gift.

But as you free Kyojuro from the paper prison he put himself in and help him get untangled from all the mess, he was delighted to hear you laugh at his ridiculous idea and unforgettable sight of Kyojuro being wrapped in wrapping paper with just his head being exposed.

“A-Ah, I’m glad you enjoyed… well, me! I suppose you can now whatever you like with me, I am at your complete service!”

Gyomei Himejima

Believe it or not, Gyomei’s first idea about gifting himself to you were a little less than innocent. You never knew about this, but your husband is actually quite knowledgeable when it comes to Shibari— a bondage method that is not just purely for sexual purposed but rather for the aesthetic appearance of a carefully and thought-through bondage of a body and the trust needed to submit to your partner. Thanks to Gyomei’s build and stature, it can be hard for him to submit to you fully, as he can easily and accidentally break free from any restraint, ruining the fantasy. But with Shibari it would be much easier, more intimate too.

Instead of making it a surprise that he himself is the gift, your husband suggested that you could bind him with deep red ropes while Gyomei instructs you on what to do in every step, together creating a beautiful art piece out of your husband’s body, the ropes deliciously highlighting his soft chest and relaxed muscle and made Gyomei shiver in delight multiple times throughout the process, sending all the excitement down to his groin.

By the end of tying him down on your bed (the link is from google and sfw), your husband slightly regretted giving up all of his power to you like never before, as you could now tease and play with him until he is in tears, although Gyomei wouldn’t mind that much. You just need to loosen the ties around his crotch a little, it’s getting very tight down there.

“Please don’t tease me too much, I’m not sure how much I can handle, pearl.”

(Normally, praying away the impure thoughts always helped with his bodily reaction, but you gently tugging on the ropes and being fully at your mercy awakened something in that man that was not possible to be prayed away.)

Giyuu Tomioka

He actually had no idea what else he could buy for you as a gift. Giyuu buys you a fresh batch of flowers after every mission, he cooks and cleans whenever he is able to, he gets you small gifts like trinkets, accessories and clothes throughout the year anyway, so what else can he give you? Standing inside a gifts shop stressed him out severely as he was worried about if you either already have the item he was looking at, if you really would appreciate this neat gadget he found or even like the cute plush he found.

Giyuu then just bought a ribbon and wrapped it around his neck and decorated it with a cute ribbon, then awkwardly stood in the door frame of your bedroom, trying to look at least a little alluring by posing slightly.

“This… is rather stupid, but I am all yours. Your gift.“

After standing there for a couple of seconds in silence, Giyuu sighed deeply and let the cringe overtaking his body.

“Never mind. I’m getting you something else.”

💠

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone!! I am back from my break and Demon Slayer brainrot found itself back into my brain after getting access to VR Worlds and joining a couple kny worlds as Mitsuri and my Douma cosplay arriving— I still need to style and trim it a little but I am SO EXCITED FOR IT!! Anyways, I hope everyone is doing well 🫶 I wish everyone happy holidays and a lot of fun, good food, wanted gifts and a warm home <33

Anyways, again, make sure to EAT, DRINK and SLEEP enough <3

Take care of yourselves <3

[thearcherbrothersx]

Oh, that little look. That little look, though it was brief, had his fingers itching, his instinct as a Dom to put her in her place bubbling beneath the surface. Had this been any other time, any other context, during any other conversation, he would have flipped her right over and slapped her ass black and blue again. But he settled for retuning her look with a harder one of his own, a clear yet unspoken message; she was lucky he was letting it pass... this time.

"I'm not saying you were dishonest," he amended evenly. "But I am saying you weren't completely honest with me." And that was the whole issue at this point. The little things she did or said to let him know there was so much more going on beyond the surface; things she held back. And while he would allow her whatever space she needed (for the most part) to open up on her own time, some things were too important to their relationship to let slip between the cracks. Still not being completely honest, he mentally tacked on when she gave him the practical reason. Sure, it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth.

He was about to push the issue, a subtle frown on his forehead, when she reached out to touch him instead, making him pause, eyes flickering to the skin to skin contact. He released another measured breath, letting the emotions in her gaze draw him in as she finally began speaking. This time, it felt different. It felt raw and bare, like she was pealing away a little bit of her armour to let him see a part of her that hadn't breathed air in years. And so he stayed carefully still, kept his features calm and open, and let her speak her piece, his hand taking hers when she sought it out.

He was quiet for a moment even after she finished, making sure nothing more was coming. Then he raised their joined hands to his lips, and he placed a kiss to the back of hers. "Thank you for your honesty, angel." It was the first thing he said, wanting to make sure she knew he understood that it wasn't easy for her let herself be vulnerable like that. "Most importantly, I want to make it very clear that it is your place to ask me for that. It's your place to ask me for anything you need or want from me, my darling. As clever as I am," his lips twitched with a bit of amusement, "I've yet to perfect mindreading as a discipline. So it's important that you do." The hand by her chin shifted a little then, inching higher until he could bury the tips of his fingers in her hair, his palm settled just below her ear. "Even if I do not always indulge you."

He paused to lean in, minimizing the distance between them. For a moment, he considered making her ask for it, but decided to relent; he'd pushed her enough. So he brushed his lips against hers then, lightly, and spoke: "In this case, my possessive angel, had you asked, I would have told you that my interest in anything sexual starts and ends with you." He tilted her head back a little more and delivered another light kiss. "I would have told you that your busy little head has nothing to worry about." Another similar kiss. "And you would have saved yourself a lot of energy."

Her brow knitted a bit as he said her name, giving him a look before fixing her face. She quite literally bit her tongue behind her teeth to keep from letting a snarky little remark slip out. Because this was an important conversation and because of the whole cumming on his tongue thing, and she didn't want to ruin anything.

She watched him as he walked toward her, suddenly feeling like prey being stalked by some predator. It took self-control not to back away, staying glued to the bed, not wanting to show any weakness. He was misunderstanding her, which frustrated her, because she wasn't this girl. She took pride in not playing games, in being straight forward. "I wasn't being dishonest." And in her mind, she technically hadn't been. "It isn't necessary on your end, but I want to know if you're sleeping with other people. Especially if we aren't using protection." It wasn't meant to come across as insulting, more practical than anything.

Cora moved her hand up, catching his that held her chin, stroking the pad of her thumb along his hand. She was trying, hearing his message about honesty, so she put her pride aside. "Would I like monogamy? Of course. I don't want you with anyone else." Just saying it had her anxiety spiking, wanting to run, wanting to find someplace to hide. Her free hand moved to his other, anchoring herself. "I'm just as possessive as you are, Master." Cora swallowed softly, her eyes flickering from his before landing back on his gaze. "Maybe more, believe it or not. So no, I don't want to share you, I don't anyone else touching you, but I also don't feel like it's my place to ask you for that."