#bit more open about being a freak but hes still wild

[creaturefeaster]

I just woke up + opened Tumblr. Old man Zack jumpscare 😨

i needed an hour or so but im into it now. ill embrace it.

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

Didn't expect me to write more about Sol, did you? Honestly, I needed to do more research into his character, after all, since I kinda ignored him in the game as soon as Crowe showed up. Like, no wonder he did what he thought he had to do.  

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet. I'm still learning about the BDSM community, and honestly, it's been really eye-opening.

A close friend (college roommate: adding on the fact she adores Sol—Sorry not sorry, love) of mine has been super helpful, sharing and explaining things about the BDSM scene to add more depth to my writing.

A lot of my inspiration comes from her, along with the Tumblr fanfic community and the original creator's work. I try to blend what feels true to the characters while throwing in my own twist. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with my man—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. He exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence, though the details are still unclear. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy. 

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…) 

For Crowe preferences! 

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished. 

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender. 

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after. 

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.  

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.  

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment. 

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.  

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.  

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.  

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment. 

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew. 

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore. 

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer. 

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable. 

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy. 

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down. 

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions. 

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous. 

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache. You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His head teases your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want. Can’t do anything unless you say it. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing lightly as if testing the waters. 

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His grin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory. 

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears on your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him. 

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb, slick with your tears, slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him. 

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.  

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you. 

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences. 

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.   

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor. 

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.  

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability. 

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there. 

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed. 

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching. 

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.  

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares. 

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away. 

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break. 

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior. 

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable.��

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable. 

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.  

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it. 

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.  

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.  

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.  

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.  

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

✑ Somnophillia 

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend. 

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you. 

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.  

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you. 

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.  

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.  

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.  

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.  

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.  

God, he was losing it.  

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further. 

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly. Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it? 

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry! 

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything. 

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special. So sacred. There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Every tender smile, every soft whisper... and every shadowed obsession that came with it. 

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[shybluebirdninja]

Brood Alert

Summary: Logan locks himself in the bathroom for two hours after seeing you laugh at a joke some random guy made.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Gf!Reader Note                : fluff

You and Logan had just gotten back from dinner with some friends—one of those nights where everything felt relaxed, easy. You were still smiling, replaying a dumb joke someone made at the table, one of your friends—a harmless one, really, just a joke about the waiter dropping a spoon.

But Logan? He wasn’t laughing.

By the time you stepped inside the house, kicking off your shoes and tossing your jacket onto the couch, Logan had already disappeared down the hallway. You heard the bathroom door click shut.

Frowning, you padded across the wooden floor, glancing toward the closed door.

“Baby?” you called out, tapping on the door lightly with your knuckles. No answer. You jiggled the knob—locked. Seriously? You sighed, already getting the feeling he was in one of those moods.

“Babe, what are you doing in there?”

Nothing. No response. Just dead silence.

You pressed your ear against the door. The faint sound of water running, then stopping, then… silence again. The air inside the hallway was stuffy, stale from the day’s warmth still lingering.

You rubbed your temples, already exhausted by the impending drama. You could almost feel the pout from the other side of the door.

“Baby, don’t tell me you’re brooding in the bathroom.”

More silence.

This man had fought wars, torn through enemies like paper, and yet here he was, barricading himself in the bathroom because of a joke. A joke! You could picture him now, sitting on the edge of the tub, arms crossed, his signature scowl plastered across his rugged face. He was such a baby sometimes.

“Logan. Come on, babe.” You groaned, leaning against the doorframe, looking down at your mismatched socks. “What are you doing, reading a novel in there? Taking up a second career as a bathroom model?”

More silence.

“Alright. I’ll give you another five minutes before I’m breaking this door down.”

Nothing.

You pushed yourself off the door and wandered back to the living room, grabbing the blanket off the couch. As you plopped down, pulling the soft fabric over you, you reached for the remote. TV it was, then.

Forty minutes in and you couldn’t even focus on the show—your mind kept drifting back to Logan’s ridiculous behavior. Sulking in the bathroom because he thought you laughed a little too hard at some guy’s joke.

Time ticked on. You checked your phone. It's been two hours. Are you freaking kidding me?

Finally, you stood up and marched back down the hallway, irritation bubbling up inside you. Two hours had passed since he went in there. Two! You weren’t sure if you were more angry or amused at this point.

“Baby,” you banged on the door, harder this time. “Get your ass out of there or I’m calling Charles and telling him his big bad Wolverine has been locked in a bathroom for two hours ‘cause he’s jealous of some guy’s bad joke.”

You heard a low grunt from inside. Something clattered—probably a bottle of shampoo—and then footsteps.

The lock clicked, and Logan finally swung the door open, looking every bit like a grumpy bear disturbed from hibernation.

He stood there, shirt rumpled from sitting too long, his hair all tousled and wild. His expression was somewhere between annoyance and guilt, arms still crossed, shoulders tense.

His eyes, though? A little sheepish. He knew he was being ridiculous, but Logan wasn’t exactly known for admitting he was wrong.

“You done?” you raised an eyebrow, trying hard not to laugh at his stubborn face. He didn’t answer, just grunted again and turned, brushing past you and heading toward the kitchen without a word.

You followed him, shaking your head. “Logan, babe. Are you seriously mad because I laughed at that guy’s joke?”

Logan grabbed a beer from the fridge, the bottle making a soft hiss as he popped it open. He took a long drink before finally speaking, his voice low and gravelly.

“Wasn’t just the joke,” he muttered, leaning against the counter. “The guy wouldn’t shut up. Kept lookin’ at you like he had a shot.” He frowned, his brow furrowing deeper as he set the bottle down on the counter with a soft thud. “Ain’t like I’m jealous. Just… he was annoyin'.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Oh my fucking God, babe, the guy was just being friendly. It wasn’t that deep.”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing a little, like he wasn’t quite convinced. “You were laughin’ too much. Don’t like it.”

You walked over to him, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. “You’re such an idiot, you know that?”

Logan grumbled, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitch like he was trying hard not to smile. “Yeah, well…”

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him down to your level, your lips brushing his ear. “I only laugh for you, big guy.”

That finally got him to crack a smile—barely. He let out a rough chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re a pain in the ass, babe.”

“Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass.”

He took another swig of beer, his arm coming around your waist, pulling you close. “Damn right you are.”

[hannieehaee]

Member walking into svt member x reader having sex

another member walking in on member and their gf

18+ / mdi

content: established relationship, being caught having sex, smut, second hand embarrassment, mentions of a crush in some of these, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2156

a/n: idk if these even make sense i wrote them all at completely different times and i have no idea if i even repeated members oops also not proofread </3

masterlist

seungcheol -

knowing about seokmin's crush on you, seungcheol couldn't help but feel genuine annoyance as, out of all people, seokmin happened to walk in on seungcheol eating you out, giving him the perfect view of your unfiltered nude body along with the blissed out look on your face. what made things worse was that it had taken the both of you a good thirty seconds to notice the door had been opened by a gaping lee chan who just seemed unable to close his mouth nor move a single bone in his body.

seungcheol would have to take matters into his own hands and yell at the boy to get the hell out, grumbling at knowing that seokmin's crush would likely just intensify after this. he'd have to take out these frustrations on you, making sure you were as loud as possible in order to at least assert some dominance.

jeonghan -

he's a fucking freak, he'd probably like it. you were facing away from the door, riding him as you threw your head back and had your eyes closed shut. he'd be able to see behind you, spotting minghao as soon as he accidentally walked in on you. he'd be shocked for a total of two seconds before smirking at minghao and inciting you into being louder for him (though without giving you any indication that a third person had appeared).

surprisingly to jeonghan, minghao wouldnt leave. he'd stay frozen in place staring at your form and hearing the lewd sounds of skin slapping and the pretty whines both you and jeonghan were letting out. it would take him a bit to slap himself out of it, suddenly leaving in a rush and shutting the door closed without realizing, thus finally alerting you. eventually jeonghan would let you in on what happened and continue to tease minghao about it for ever and ever.

joshua -

joshua was conflicted. one one hand, he felt mortified at vernon walking in on him ramming his hips against your ass in a desperation you'd only ever really see in a wild animal (specially since you were also in a pretty compromising position), but on the other hand, he felt kinda proud at drawing such an expressive reaction out of his usually stoic friend.

vernon was nearly impossible to scare, and almost even more impossible to embarrass. and the sight of you and joshua fornicating had just caused both at the same time. however, any semblance of pride left joshua as soon as he detected even the smallest trace of lust in vernon's eyes as his eyes remained on your form. what the hell was he even still doing here? after cursing him out with some very diverse language, vernon finally left with a hurried apology, leaving joshua with the task of putting you in the mood again after such a weird interaction.

jun -

even after all these years, jun had not yet grown used to the lack of privacy that came along with having twelve men around him at all times. he had learned to manage it, but there were instances in which he simply needed his very well deserved privacy. such as in his intimate moments with you. unfortunately, his brothers had grown too used to lack of privacy among each other, meaning that walking in on you was only a matter of time. and it had to be seungcheol of all people.

being the polite boy he is, jun was unable to even yell at the older man when he walked in and remained frozen without even thinking of making an immediate exit. he'd splutter a bit, barely being able to cover you up with a nearby blanket before coming to his senses and realizing it was completely acceptable for him to yell at his leader for freezing up at such an uncomfortable moment for you. upon also snapping out of his trance, seungcheol would apologize and leave, though the damage had been done. jun would now have to go to sleep completely blue balled because of his friend.

soonyoung -

sure, he was close with jihoon, but that didn't mean he wanted him to be privy to every intimate detail of his life, specially not what he got up to with you behind closed doors. even though he knew jihoon wasn't a perv by any means, and that him walking in on you had been nothing but an accident, he would still react exasperated in the heat of the moment.

he would immediately notice the new source of light entering the room as he railed you into the mattress. fortunately for him, you had been pinned down under him and your front was facing the door, meaning that all jihoon saw before soonyoung spluttered around for the covers had been him humping at you from above. an embarrassing image to share with a friend, but at least he kept the goods (you) to himself.

wonwoo -

a smirk. small but still fully present. wonwoo could've sworn he saw a smirk of satisfaction on jeonghan's face as he walked in and stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on all fours and wonwoo's hips going crazy against your ass. of course, of all people, jeonghan would find such moment amusing. he knew his friend to be a bit unpredictable in how he reacted to certain things, but wonwoo had not expected him to quite literally stop and stare.

wonwoo, like any reasonable man, had frozen in shock at the intrusion. it had taken him a few moments to actually pull out of you and cover you as much as his own bare body would allow. he also had to take it upon himself to yell at jeonghan to get the hell out. this instance would cause both you and wonwoo to feel awkward around jeonghan for a few days. the older man's smirk would not leave him during those few days, only making you and wonwoo even more sheepish around him.

jihoon -

had it been anyone else, maybe he wouldnt have had a problem, but it had to be mingyu. he already felt some type of way about the way in which mingyu would occasionally flirt with you (he knew his friend had a flirty personality, but still!!), so it did not help to know that mingyu now knew what you looked like in the throes of passion, much less the fact that the man in question stood there watching for a good minute.

in this situation, jihoon had to take whatever means necessary to protect your privacy (though it was already too late) throwing you off him without thinking and throwing a pillow on top of you to cover you as much as a measly pillow would allow. after this, like an idiot, he would grab his boxers and chase after mingyu, completely forgetting that he left you completely confused at what had just happened.

seokmin -

it's not that seokmin was a jealous man. nor had he ever felt insecure in your relationship. however ... having his very handsome friends around his very pretty girlfriend would sometimes leave him feeling a bit ... off. like now. specially now. an instance in which he had been making love to you, passionate in the way he thrust into you and licked into your mouth. up until your mouth left his own to look at the sudden intrusion that had just entered the room. wonwoo. a very shirtless and very wide-shouldered wonwoo.

after some moments of the three of you simply staring at one another in shock, seokmin finally took action and covered you up, disliking the way in which wonwoo's eyes had made their way to your nude body, and specially not liking the concept of you and his friend looking at one another (almost completely) in the nude, no matter if it was merely an accident. he would sulk about this for days, needing reassurance from both you and wonwoo about the unfortunate incident.

mingyu -

why did seungkwan have to be so damn nosy? why couldnt he just take mingyu's half-assed excuse about 'being sick' and let him go back to his hotel room to rest instead of joining the members in impromptu karaoke? maybe if he had just left the situation alone, he wouldn't have had to be chased out of the room by a very naked mingyu for screaming as soon as he saw mingyu folding you in half on his bed.

okay, backtracking a little ... maybe mingyu was the first one to scream. but he wasnt expecting any interruptions during his alone time with you, okay?? he screamed in shock, then seungkwan screamed in shock, then he's pretty sure he heard soonyoung screaming from the front door of the hotel room, which had been enough for mingyu to act on a whim and throw a blanket on top of you, grabbing some boxers and chasing seungkwan (and seemingly soonyoung) back into their rooms all while sporting a boner.

minghao -

why. why did he forget to lock the door again. that was his immediate thought at soonyoung excitedly running past his door without considering that minghao mightve been busy on the other side of it. and he was. as he was currently pistoning into your cunt from behind, having you arching your back for him in a way that gave him a delicious view of your ass. a view that was meant for him only.

hoshi became embarrassed and sheepish almost immediately, realizing that, yet again, his enthusiasm got the best of him and put him in an awkward situation. he'd sheepishly make his way out as he avoided eye contact. minghao would simply sigh and face palm internally, giving you no time to react as he began fucking you again. hoshi would have some trouble making eye contact with either you or minghao for the following week.

seungkwan -

not him. anyone but him. chan? did chan, of all people, have to become privy to the inner workings of your figure? something which was meant to be reserved for seungkwan's eyes only? he'd notice chan's presence immediately, screaming at him to get the hell out as he scrambled to cover you up. in the meantime chan would be frozen in place, with his eyes very clearly zoned in on your tits, causing kwan to grow even more frustrated.

in what felt like an eternity (but was actually under two minutes), chan would finally exit the room and leave a very exasperated seungkwan behind. he'd be too bothered to finish what you guys were doing, now needing you to calm him down from the annoyance he felt at chan, knowing that the boy whom he bantered with every day could now add the image of your nude body to his spank bank.

vernon -

he would be far too lost in the pleasure he felt as you rode him, eyes closed and face buried in your tits as he bit licked absentmindedly. you'd be the one to notice jun's sudden appearance, widening your eyes but making no other indication of shock. jun would react similarly, though his eyes would swim from your face to your tits (or what he could see from them through vernon's head in the way) to the way you ground against his friend.

for some unknown reason to both you and jun, the two of you would maintain eye contact as you started rutting against your boyfriend harder and faster, making him groan and moan against you as he reached his peak. jun would leave when he felt like he couldnt handle any more, now thinking of you in a completely different way. you'd confess what had happened to vernon afterwards (after he inquired as to what made you fuck him so animalistically ..), which would surprise him and weirdly turn him on.

chan -

chan had never expected that joshua's usually confident demeanor would finally crumble at the mere sight of your blissed out appearance as chan knelt between your legs. your entire body was facing the door from which joshua had come in, your breasts were bare, your eyes were crossed, your mouth was agape, your body was contorting itself at the pleasure, your cunt was obstructed by chan's mouth as he desperately sucked and licked at you, moans going in tune with your own. the sight was out of any man's dream.

but it was interrupted very quickly. chan immediately felt a new source of light, making him get up without a second thought and cover you up as much as he could in the heat of the moment (even if it meant exposing himself in the process – you were the priority). chan had never seen joshua so sheepish as he tried to smoothly make his way out of the room. joshua had never seen chan so serious as he cursed at him to get out (nor had he ever seen chan's girlfriend look so enticing ...).

[hyunsvngs]

hyunsvngbinimas !

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

warnings: reader is a cat hybrid, perv!minho, heats, slick, kind of omegaverse but not, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, depictions of porn

Nothing is going right.

Minho’s apartment smells of those cliche candles that just reek of Christmas - spiced cinnamon apple strudel, or something like it. He’s burnt his cookies. His hair is covered in white sugary flakes that he’d tried to make snow for his gingerbread house with, and they’re currently melting into his hair from how stressed out he’s getting. Felix will be here any second. He’s freaking out. Felix always judges his baking.

He sighs, scraping the burnt remnants of his baking endeavours into the bin. Felix will have to be happy with just the gingerbread house. Anyway, Minho got him an amazing present for Christmas - a new headset for his gaming setup that had little holes for his white fluffy cat ears to peek through. 

Being best friends with a hybrid wasn’t easy for Minho. Unfortunately, Minho had some weird affinity for cat girls and boys alike, and his computer was decked out with mountains of hybrid heat porn that would make even Felix’s weird friend Jisung stutter. Minho had gotten drunk one night and opened up to Felix about it, and had received an overly wet kiss on a cheek and a sweet chirp of “I’ll fuck you whenever, hyung”. Minho still blushes to the tips of his ears when he remembers it. 

Felix’s hybrid status isn’t the only reason he’s reserved as Minho’s lifelong best friend. Felix is devious, weird, and a little bit evil just like Minho - he’s also always late, which really means a lot to Minho when he’s stressing out like this. 

True to his nature, there’s a loud knock on the door approximately fifteen minutes after the meeting time after Minho had just put the baking tray of newer, more promising cookies into the oven. Minho throws his oven gloves to the side and then he’s charging over to the door to swing it open, ready to give Felix a fake lecture about being late to their designated day for exchanging presents. 

Only, when the door opens, Felix isn’t alone. He’s standing on Minho’s doorstep with a wild smile on his face, a beanie pulled over his ears and his white tail swishing in excitement. Next to him is you. 

And you’re, well, you. You’re a cat hybrid, too, sans-beanie and baring your orange ears for the world to see. You have a matching smile on your face, and Minho can’t help but fight his own smile back. It’s that contagious. Your fluffy winter dress is swaying around your mid-thigh, and when you turn to stop your suitcase from falling in the snow, your tail curls in annoyance.

Wait. You have a suitcase.

“Yongbok-ah,” Minho starts, his apron covered in flour. His apron is covered in flour. He’s a mess, and the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen is standing on his doorstep with a cute little dress on. He wonders if you’d let him flip it up and stretch your pussy open with his thick- no. He clears his throat, repeats Felix’s Korean name once again. “Yongbok-ah. What is this?”

“Your new roommate!” Felix beams, his smile stretching from ear-to-ear. Minho contemplates how he can kill him. “She was looking for somewhere to stay. Her landlord just kicked her out over Christmas, hyung, isn’t that so sad? Anyway, I remembered you saying you wouldn’t mind someone moving in to help with rent, so-”

“I work!” You blurt, cheeks sufficiently rosy pink and your bottom lip looking so biteable. Minho mentally chastises himself. He needs to behave. “I can pay rent, and Felix said you’d like me.”

Oh, he did, did he? Minho manages to drag his eyes away from you to stare menacingly at Felix, who only nods in agreement and smiles. Minho sighs, eyes flickering behind him. How quick can he do a deep clean of the house so that you think he’s perfect and amazing and maybe want to be with him? “I do have a spare bedroom.”

“Great!” Felix chirps. His eyes flicker between you and Minho. You haven’t taken your eyes off of him, tail swishing around your back excitedly. It’s orange with faint stripes in it, and Minho’s trying not to get hard in his pants over the way you’re grinning at him. Felix claps his hands together, gloved and muffled. “So, I’ve got to go now. Bye, hyung!”

“Y-Yongbok,” Minho blurts. Did he really just stutter? “What about your present?”

“Oh, give it to me another day,” Yongbok waves him off, already turning down the drive.

Minho scoffs. “What about my present, you little-”

Yongbok turns around. “She is your present, hyung. Silly.” 

Minho reverts his eyes to you. He can feel how he’s widening them in shock, his bottom lip quivering. He wants to say something. He wants to talk to you, but how can he? You’re looking at him so expectantly and your dress has damn pom poms on it. He’s going to die. “Uh. D’ya wanna come in? I have cookies in the oven.”

“Great!” You say, and Minho’s convinced your voice is exactly how angels sound. You shimmy past him with your suitcase and leave it in the doorway, sashaying into the living room as if you’ve been there a million times. He watches you sprawl on the sofa in awe, stretching languidly. If he squints, he might be able to see the panties you’ve got on underneath your dress. “I love cookies.”

“Uh, yeah,” Minho says intelligently, kicking the door shut. He’s quick to follow you despite still being in his apron and having white specks in his dark hair. He tries to sit down casually on the sofa, and you gravitate towards his body heat, curling up beside him. “Have you had a roommate before?”

“A roommate?” You perk up, looking at him. Minho thinks he’s going to die. He’s definitely hard now, and he’s glad the apron is loose enough to cover it. You blink, and then you nod. “I guess so. In college, I stayed with a bunny girl. She was super sweet.”

A bunny girl? You two… lived together? Minho’s heart has stopped beating, officially. Maybe you’re still close friends. Maybe you can bring her over, when one or both of you are in your heats, and maybe you’ll let him watch if you-

Oh, Minho’s so fucked.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re so fucked.

When Felix said his friend Minho had mentioned wanting a roommate, you hadn’t expected him to be so sexy. Even standing on his doorstep with an apron covered in flour and a timid expression on his face, he was sexy. He’d shown you to the spare bedroom, nice as pie, and had waited while you got settled in to comfier clothes before getting on the couch with him. You couldn’t stop your tail from swishing when he fed you a cookie, warm from the oven, and you’d been looking at him with round, owlish eyes. He has to know. You’re wondering how much you can put down to kitty tendencies just to get closer to him. 

“Can we cuddle?” You chirp, and Minho turns to you. He blinks, lips parted. His eyes are so dark, so round. “You know, kitty tendencies. I like the warmth. If it makes you uncomfortable, that’s okay-”

“No,” He shakes his head, patting his lap. “C’mere, kitty- sorry, God, can I call you that? Is that okay?”

You giggle, curling up in his lap. Your tail curls around his arm comfortably, and Minho chokes back a noise. You wonder if he’s alright. “Kitty is fine. I like it.”

Minho lets out a stuttered breath. “O-Okay, so- how do you want to do this? I can cook for us, if you wanna clean?” He shakes his head. You feel his body tense up from beneath you. His thighs are so broad and muscled you can’t help but nuzzle your nose into one. You’re purring before you even realise you are. “Actually, no. Don’t clean.”

“I can clean!” You insist, but he’s already protesting again.

“No, kitty. Please don’t. Please don’t clean.”

Why not? You screw your face up in a pout, but you can’t help but feel the most comfortable you’d ever felt. It feels domestic, almost, the way you’re curled up on his lap and he’s just letting you. He’s warm. He’s warm and toned, and you flip over to look up at him. God, he’s pretty - sharp nose, pouty lips, the cutest bunny teeth that would have you swearing he had to be a hybrid too if you hadn’t seen his human ears. You want him.

Minho looks down at you then, a smile playing on his lips. “Why are you staring at me, kitty cat?”

You blush, shaking your head. “No reason. Hey, do you wanna watch a movie? I’m not moving though.” 

“Of course,” Minho chuckles, his shoulders shaking. You watch as he reaches over you to grab the remote, flicking through channels until he finds a decent Christmas one. He looks at you, almost hesitant with his spare hand raised above your hair. “I- Felix likes when I scratch his ears. Do you- would you-”

“Yes, please,” You nod eagerly, and he snickers at your response. His hand threads into your hair, fingertips rubbing absentmindedly at the start of your orange ears, and you purr. It makes him tense up again. 

When you finally turn over to pay attention to the movie, it’s some stupid film about two people finding love at Christmas. You can’t help but hope you have a similar experience, and you definitely wouldn’t be disappointed if it happened with the man who’s currently stroking over your ears and humming a soft tune. It feels too easy with him, too natural, but you’re not one to complain.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re panicking. You’ve been living with Minho for a week now, and between him doing absolutely everything around the house and refusing to let you pay rent - for what reason you’re unsure - you’re determined to get him a good gift for Christmas. Christmas is only in a few days, and you just can’t find anything perfect scrolling through your laptop. You have goosebumps on your arms from how cold you are, but you’re so focused you can’t put an extra layer on.

You’re convinced you’re hallucinating when the screen freezes, turns blue, and crashes. What? You bang on the keyboard with clenched fists, ears flattening in annoyance. What’s going on? Has it… broken? No way. No way would this happen to you, not during the most important time of your life. You had to get Minho a good gift. 

He’s sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone when you perk your head around the doorway - or perk your tail around, since that’s the first thing Minho sees. He grins, turning to you. God, his grin makes your stomach flutter. 

“What’s up, kitty cat?” He muses, and you grimace. 

“I- I was doing… something on my laptop, and I think it’s broken,” You say, voice quiet. Despite getting so close to Minho in the week you’ve been there, including even taking naps together on the sofa, you still can’t push past your silly little crush on him. Especially not when he scratches under your chin and feeds you cookies. “Nothing weird. I just- could I use yours? Just for an hour or two, and then you can have it back, and-”

“Of course you can,” Minho cuts you off. You try not to stare at his biceps as he leans over to grab his laptop, white t-shirt clenching tight around his muscles. You suppress a whimper as he hands it to you, and then you’re scurrying back to your room with a delighted squeal.

The sheets are soft on your legs as you make yourself comfortable again, and then you open the laptop. It has no password, which is just so Minho, and is covered in cat stickers. He must really like cats. The thought makes your tail curl in delight, and you try to calm your excitement as the laptop boots up. 

Immediately, you take notice of the fact that his laptop is definitely a newer, more expensive model than yours. It makes you shy, embarrassed that you’re not paying rent to live in his house and still can’t even get a good laptop, but then you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. He has around ten files, labelled nothing other than numbers 1-10, and they’re neatly organised in a row across the screen. 

Before you can even process what you’re doing, you’re clicking on the first one. You gasp, hand covering your mouth. You’re snooping. Maybe… maybe the files will help you learn what stuff he’s into, what kind of things he’d love for Christmas? Yeah. That’s why you’re looking. Definitely no other reason. 

The first file has ten files inside it, all video files that are just begging for you to double click on. Could you watch them? Could you be nosy like this? Does that make you an awful person? You realise that yeah, you must be an awful person because you’re going to watch them. You’re going to watch every single one just to find out what they could be.

You don’t expect to be met with a cat hybrid being bent over a desk. She’s a girl, noted from the way the man’s speaking to her, and her slick is gushing around his cock. Your eyes widen, comically round, yet you can’t tear them away. Her tail curls around his waist, keeping him close, and her eyes roll back into her head. The camera is positioned to the side but it captures every single expression she’s making.

Is this what Minho’s into? Is he… into you? Would he fuck you like this, would he talk to you like this?

You’re clicking on the second video before you can even think of it. This one is recorded by the male, camera positioned to capture the cat girl’s tits as they sway and bounce enticingly. You want Minho to record you while you ride him like this. You wipe sweat off of your brow. She’s pretty, with blushing cheeks and ears flattened to her head as she moans in ecstasy. His pubic hair is drenched with her slick. You whimper. You want it. You want it with Minho. 

He must jerk off to these, you decide, clicking on the third video. This one’s a little different - the girl is on her knees, slobbering and spitting all over a rather large cock. Is Minho that big? It’d be perfect to breed you, he could hit your cervix like that. You wipe drool off of your bottom lip. It’s suddenly very, very warm, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Imagining Minho’s cock is sending your senses into haywire, your whole body feeling like it’s been ignited with fire and electricity and-

“Kitty,” A voice from your door. You perk up. You’d left it open, just slightly ajar, and Minho is standing there with wide doe eyes. “Oh, no. You’ve seen them. I’m so sorry, if you want to move out I understand and I- kitty?”

You’re panting. Your eyes are glassy, covered in unshed tears, and your t-shirt suddenly feels like it’s stuck to you. Weren’t you just cold? You can’t remember. Your senses are full of Minho, Minho, Minho, and you want him to fuck you under the Christmas tree or bend you over the sofa or his desk or just take you on the floor, you aren’t picky. 

“Minho,” You finally speak, chest heaving. “Minho, Minho, you- you- you like these? You- Minho, please, do you like these videos?”

He’s slow walking over to your bed, almost anxious to approach you. He sighs when he reaches the foot of the mattress, climbing onto it to sit cross-legged. He twiddles his thumbs. “Yeah. It turns me on. Yongbok- Felix said I have a kink for it. I’m sorry.”

“S-Sorry?” It’s so warm. It’s so warm. “Minho, Minho, I- I’m really warm. Are you warm? It’s really warm in my room, isn’t it?”

Minho’s eyebrows furrow. He reaches over, placing the back of his hand to your forehead, and you whine. Loudly. Just him touching your forehead with the back of his hand is enough to make your pussy drool slick into your sleep shorts, and you can’t even begin to question why you’re suddenly so wet, until Minho speaks. “Oh, kitty,” He coos, his hand moving up to scratch your ear. You hum, leaning into the touch. Your vision is blurry, but you can see him perfectly. “Oh, my girl. I’m so sorry. I think you’re going into heat, kitty. I’ll call Yongbok, and-”

“No,” You wail, surging forward. The laptop slides off the side of the bed with a loud clatter, and Minho doesn’t even blink, staring owlishly at you as you wrap your arms around his middle. You’re in heat. You can tell when his body hits yours, your pussy gushing and making even more of a mess just from his body, despite being clothed. “No. God, please, Minho, don’t leave. It’s you, I want you, I was thinking about you and me, and the videos, and-”

“You want me?” Minho’s voice is soft, and he swipes a thumb over your cheekbone. Your head is positioned on his chest, and you can smell him, earthy and woodsy and manly. He sighs, and then he’s speaking again. “I want you.” 

“Please. Please, please, please, please, I need you, I need to see it, I need to feel you,” You’re babbling, sweat dripping down your temple, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air. “I- Minho, is- do you want to? Please.”

“You need to see it?” He chuckles, shoulders shaking. His eyes form crescent moons and you can’t even admire how cute he is through your haze of lust. “What’s it, kitty cat? My dick?” You nod eagerly, and Minho shakes his head in disbelief. “I want to kiss you first. Let me do it right, yeah? Let me do it how I want to. I need to treat you right.”

You’re still shocked when his lips press into yours, pouty and plush. He licks into your mouth and you have to avoid nipping at his bottom lip, until he does it to you and you deem it fair game. You’re devouring him then, nibbling on his lip and sucking on his tongue and encompassing your arms around his neck. He lets you push him into the mattress, lets you run your hands through his hair and pull away to nip at his neck teasingly. 

“Kitty likes to bite, huh?” He huffs, and you nod, nipping him again for his cheek. Your tail swishes behind you, excited and playful, and you can feel how hard he is against your leg. “Better not bite like that when you suck my cock.”

You pull away from his neck in alarm, the milky skin littered in teeth marks and red bruises. “I can suck it? You’ll let me? Oh, please-”

His hand envelops in your hair, wrapping your hair around his fist and tugging hard. “Maybe later. I can feel how that pussy is drooling on me. You need it badly, huh? Need me badly.”

“Yes! Yes, yeah, since I saw you, I- I wanted you to fuck me through my heat so bad, pin me to the bed and just make me take it, and when I saw the videos I- Minho, I thought I was gonna die, and-”

Minho flips you over onto the mattress, your front planted against the bed. You let out a satisfied purr when he strokes your tail with one hand, and then he’s hooking his thumbs into your sleep shorts and yanking them down your legs. You feel the cold air hit your pussy and you moan, loud and high pitched, spreading your thighs to arch your back and present your pussy to him.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Minho coos, his thumb swiping over your hole. Your hole clenches with the lack of fullness, oozing more slick over his digit, and he groans. “Messy little pussy. God, do you want me inside you that bad? Little minx.”

“Please, please. Minho, Minho, will you fuck me? Look’it,” You whine, spreading your legs further. “Look at how wet I am. I need you, need you. M-master, please.”

Minho hisses through his teeth, and then his cockhead is pressing between your folds. When did he get naked? “You dirty little thing,” He whispers, his voice low. “Take master’s cock, then. You wanted to see it, how’s about feeling it?”

He sinks into you, all of his shaft in one go. It doesn’t hurt, only stretches you beyond pleasure, and your fingernails rip into the sheets with one loud moan. It feels insane, raw and veiny and pressing against your walls as if he was made for you. You let him grip your hips and arch you further, your tail wrapping around his waist to keep him close to you. It’s like the first video you saw, and the realisation has you whimpering into the sheets.

“God, you don’t know how long I thought about you like this,” Minho grunts, and then he’s thrusting. His pace is punishing immediately, your slick gushing and squelching around his cock messily and you can only hope his pubes are drenched in it. You want him to cum inside you, breed you, fill you up with kittens and mark you as his so that everyone knows. “Pliant, wet and so desperate for me.”

“Love it,” You slur, eyes rolling back into your head. You don’t realise you’re bouncing back on his thrusts, ass hitting the bottom of his tummy with every movement. He’s bent fully over your body, chest against your back and his lips whispering filth into your ear. “Love your cock, master, ‘s so big, I feel so full, I- hnnfg, master, master, will you breed me? Will you cum inside me?”

“Oh, kitty cat,” He moans, passionate, and when you try to look at him his eyes are rolling back into his head. His bunny teeth bite his bottom lip, almost drawing blood. His cockhead fucks against your cervix with every thrust, primal and intense. He wraps his arms around your front, hands clutching onto your shoulders to pull you back into him. “I’ll breed you, jagi. I’ll fuck you full until it has to take, yeah?”

You can’t think straight. Your pussy clenches around Minho’s cock almost painfully and it only makes him feel bigger, pulsing and throbbing inside of you. You need his cum. You need to cum - your clit throbs painfully with it. “Oh, oh, I need’a- master, master, I need to cum, I need to cum, please, hurts,” You huff, squirming beneath him. He reaches from your shoulder to pin your hips down into the bed, ensuring that you can’t thrash or wriggle anymore and he has full leverage to fuck you the way you need it. “It hurts! Ah, it hurts, I can’t, I can’t, I need to cum, I need to-”

“What’s stopping you?” He questions, hips starting to fuck you in a sinuous grind instead. The change in pace has your toes curling, hands scrabbling to find a better grip on the sheets as he lets you feel every inch and every vein of his length. “C’mon. Cum around my cock, and I’ll give you my cum, breed you full of kittens. Give it to me, jagi, c’mon, let me feel it.”

With a wail and a sharp inhale of breath, you’re cumming quicker than you ever have with any partner or even your own hand. Your pussy pulsates and gushes around him, and he grunts through your orgasm, trying with all of his might to fuck you through it. You try to thrash, to grind back on him through it, but he has you pinned down with a vice grip that only proves to make you cum even harder. 

Minho’s hips press tightly against yours, and with a deep sigh, you feel his cum flood inside of you. You’re purring with the sensation of it, warm and thick and reaching your cervix with every messy pulsation of his load. You hope it takes, deep down inside you - you hope you’re swollen with it, that everyone knows he’s yours and you’re his. 

With the knowledge that you’re full of cum, your heat is slightly sated, and you blink through the fog while Minho sidles up next to you. When did he pull out? You huff and cuddle into his chest, and he reaches up instinctively to scratch over your ears. 

“Good?” He questions, voice timid. You blink owlishly.

“Good?!” You shriek, lifting your head up to stare at him. “I’m enlisting you for the rest of my heat, and then every day after that. You’re mine now.”

Minho chuckles. “I think that’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever been given.”

“Well, I was actually looking for something to get you when my laptop broke,” You say shyly, and Minho turns to look at you with a wide smile on his face. “It’s embarrassing! Just have me instead.”

“I think I’m okay with that,” He yawns, eyes fluttering shut. “Nap. You’re gonna need to be fucked again soon.”

You wondered how he knew, then you remembered the videos on his computer. “That’s true. Merry early Christmas, Minho.”

“Merry early Christmas, kitty cat.”

[blackenedsnow]

can you do a keatlejuice x fem reader who passes out a lot due to illness?

faint of heart

WARNING: Mentions of fainting due to illness

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x (Fem) Reader

NOTE: Love this idea! I have this problem as well, just not due to illness. So I hope it wrote it decently enough.

SUMMARY: You’ve been dealing with a medical condition that causes you to faint more often than you'd like. Luckily (or unluckily), Beetlejuice, is always nearby when it happens.

You were used to the feeling by now—the lightheadedness that crept in without warning, the sudden exhaustion that drained the strength from your limbs. Still, no matter how accustomed you were to your illness, it didn’t make it any easier when the world around you started to blur and tilt on its axis. It was happening again, the familiar darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision.

“Damn it…” you muttered, swaying on your feet as you reached out to steady yourself against the wall.

Unfortunately, the wall wasn’t much help, and neither was your body. You could already feel yourself slipping, your knees buckling under you as you collapsed. Just before the darkness fully swallowed you, a voice broke through the haze—raspy and loud, with a hint of annoyance.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there, sweetheart!”

And then, everything went black.

When you came to, the first thing you noticed was the sensation of being cradled in someone’s arms—scratch that, not someone. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was. The smell of dirt, mildew, and that faint hint of something otherworldly told you everything you needed to know.

“Beej,” you groaned softly, trying to sit up, though a wave of dizziness made you reconsider.

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha,” Beetlejuice’s voice came from above you, and you felt yourself being jostled slightly as he adjusted his grip on you. “Don’t go makin’ it a habit to pass out every time you see my face. I know I’m hot, but c’mon.”

You blinked up at him, his wild hair and striped suit filling your vision as you tried to focus. He was holding you, bridal-style, with a grin plastered on his pale face that was just shy of mischievous.

“Y’know, I could’ve just let you hit the floor. But nooo, I’m the good guy here, right? Heroic ghost with the most, swooping in to save the day.”

You sighed, shaking your head weakly. “Thanks, Beej… but you’re really not a hero.”

He scoffed, his grin widening. “Sure I am! Who else is gonna catch you when you go timber like that? Nobody cares for ya like I do, babe.”

As much as you hated to admit it, there was some truth to his words. Despite his odd personality and penchant for making a scene, Beetlejuice was always there when you needed him. No matter how irritating he could be on a daily basis, when it came down to moments like these, he never failed to show up. Somehow. At the perfect time.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice dropping into something that almost sounded like concern, though he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. “You gotta stop doin’ this. You’re startin’ to freak me out.”

You managed a weak chuckle, patting his chest. “I don’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know.” Beetlejuice let out a huff, shifting you in his arms as he looked down at you with those mismatched eyes. “Still doesn’t mean I gotta like it. I mean, who’s gonna laugh at my jokes if you’re passed out half the time, huh?”

“You’re plenty funny without me,” you teased, though your voice was still quiet and a bit shaky.

“Nah,” he smirked. “I’m only funny ‘cause you laugh at all my dumb shit.”

For a moment, you both went into a comfortable silence. Sure, he was Beetlejuice—weird, loud, and often over-the-top—but beneath all that was something softer, something that genuinely cared about you. He wouldn’t admit it outright (that wasn’t his style), but the way he stayed close during your fainting spells, the way he always made sure you were okay, said more than his snarky comments ever could.

“You okay now?” he asked after a beat, setting you down gently on the couch. “You need anything? Water? Smelling salts?”

You shook your head, leaning back into the cushions as you took a few deep breaths. “I’m alright… just give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need, dollface,” he said, plopping down beside you, legs crossed and his elbow resting on the back of the couch. “But hey, if you feel like passin’ out again, at least let me know so I can catch ya in a cool way next time. Maybe do a little spin, toss ya over my shoulder—y’know, something real dramatic.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the way he could turn even the scariest moments into something almost light-hearted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Beetlejuice winked, tapping the side of his nose. “That’s my girl.”

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 5.5

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, introspection

series masterlist │my masterlist

“did you mean it? when you said you would want me even if i was more like,” a pause, “like an animal?”

you hum, cuddling further into his side, chasing the warmth of shared body heat. “of course. i kind of miss it, actually. there’s something weirdly attractive about you acting on just pure instinct, you know?”

he doesn’t know, actually. his entire life he’s been told to behave in a certain way - there were those who wanted him to be an animal, a violent killer with no human morals or thoughts to interfere with his orders, and those who told him he needed to reign in the feral aspects of his mutation, who called him a monster for the way he was born.

even amongst mutants he wasn’t always treated well. they had interesting abilities, beautiful things that belonged in movies or books or fairytale stories. they could control the elements and create things from practically nothing, while he only knew how to destroy. he brought chaos and bloodshed everywhere he went.

he was the kind of mutant that made people uncomfortable, the kind of mutant people saw as a freak of nature, a mistake. people like him were the reason mutants would never be accepted within society. he was too violent, too dangerous, too much of a threat.

they would fight for mutant rights, but turn right around and tell him to hide who he was, to be gentle or kind or better, whatever they decided that meant. because his nature made everyone uncomfortable.

and he understood that. because logan hated himself as much, if not more, than they all seemed to hate him. he’s always hated his instincts, hated how it made him feel, hated the way he felt that he couldn’t always control himself, hated what they made him.

so he’s always hidden parts of himself, never fully revealing who he is to anyone. in return, he finds people who love him, or at least who claim that they do, and the need for acceptance that presses down on his heart lessens into a bearable weight.

it was why he’d been so ashamed when he’d started to regain his memories, flashes of his past showing up in his dreams. for months he’d acted on his natural instincts with you, every lesson he’s ever been taught temporarily erased from his mind. he’d allowed himself to be wild, feral, a disgusting beast that doesn’t qualify as human. a monster.

and yet here you are, telling him that you find it attractive, smiling at him as if he hasn’t spent his entire life running from himself, being hunted down for his mutation for one reason or another, either to kill or to use. he’s a weapon to some, an uncontrollable animal to others, a mutant to be trained for a new purpose every time someone new finds him.

but to you, he’s just logan.

you don’t run or hide from what he is, you accept him with open arms. and that’s terrifying, the trust that you’ve placed in him, because all he’s ever done is hurt people, and you have absolutely no defences, nothing to protect you when he inevitably fucks up again.

he doesn’t think he’ll be able to let go of everything he’s taught himself just like that, let go of the control he’s spent centuries honing and perfecting to allow his instincts to crawl to the forefront of his mind. not after so long. but it physically hurts him to hold back at times, and the thought that maybe he’s finally found a place where he doesn’t need to deal with that pain, a place where he doesn’t need to hide - it makes the constant ache in his chest lessen just the slightest bit.

he’s still traumatised and plagued with horrible memories, anger still runs in his veins like blood, but all of that feels easier to cope with when he kisses and bites at your neck, scenting you, claiming you. and you let him, giggling with your hands in his hair.

your scent is happy, bright and warm like a sunny afternoon. he’s making you happy like this, the animal in him is making you happy like this.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog @insanesosciopath @eridektbh @trickstergabriel69 @lord-bingus666

[lilsoftext]

•~* JUST NEEDED YOU *~•

- chris sturniolo x female reader

——————————————————————————

Sof was live on Twitch, her cheerful voice filling the cozy room as she sat in front of her computer. The glow of her monitor illuminated her face as she laughed and chatted with her viewers. She had been streaming for a couple of hours, the time flying by as she gamed and talked with her audience about everything from her favorite TV shows to the new game releases.

Sof adjusted her headset and leaned back in her chair, grinning as a new message popped up. "Yeah, I cannot talk as loud as I want now so don’t freak out that you can’t hear me proper," she said with a playful smirk. "Chris was really tired so he fall asleep”She winked at the camera, drawing out a wave of playful comments from the chat.

The messages flooded in fast. Some teased her, others simply gushed about how cute she was. Sof couldn’t help but chuckle. "What? It’s true! He’s always so serious about me being quiet when he’s sleeping, but tonight, I guess he was extra tired."

As Sof leaned closer to the screen to read more comments, the bedroom door behind her creaked open. She glanced back, and her heart fluttered at the sight of Chris stumbling out, half-asleep. His hair was a wild mess, sticking up in all directions like he’d been tossing and turning in his sleep. He rubbed his eyes lazily, his shirt rumpled, and his sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips.

"Oh no, look who’s up," Sof said, her voice full of affection. She twisted in her chair to face him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Sleep well?"

Chris didn’t answer right away. He shuffled over to her, moving with the slow, deliberate motions of someone who was still half-dreaming. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. His embrace was warm and heavy, and Sof felt herself relax into him, her fingers instinctively reaching up to tangle in his messy hair.

"How was your sleep, sleepyhead?" she asked softly, running her fingers through the tangles in his hair, enjoying the way he leaned into her touch.

Chris let out a sleepy grunt, nuzzling his face into her neck. His voice was a low murmur, barely above a whisper. "Not bad… just still tired." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Head’s kinda fuzzy."

Sof frowned slightly, concern flickering in her eyes. "You still feeling off?"

He nodded, not lifting his head. His grip on her tightened, as if he needed her warmth to chase away the lingering dizziness. "Mhm… headache’s still there. Felt a bit dizzy when I woke up."

The chat was going wild with a flood of heart emojis and comments about how cute Chris was being. Sof glanced at the screen, chuckling softly. "The chat says hi, by the way," she murmured.

Chris lifted his head just enough to squint at the screen, his eyes barely open. "Hey..." he muttered, his voice a low rasp, earning even more enthusiastic responses from the viewers. His tired expression, combined with his messy hair, made him look impossibly endearing, like a sleepy kitten that had just woken from a nap.

Sof smiled, her heart swelling as she watched him. She could feel how tired he still was by the way he leaned on her, his body heavy with sleep. He kissed the top of her head softly, a tender gesture that made her pulse quicken. His lips lingered for a moment, warm and soft against her hair, before he pulled away slightly.

“You okay, babe?” she asked quietly, her fingers still lazily combing through his hair.

Chris nodded but then whispered, “Still feel a little dizzy… and I’ve got a headache.”

"You should go back to bed," Sof said gently, continuing to stroke his hair, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll be done in five minutes. Promise."

Chris lifted his head a little, his eyes still half-closed, looking at her with that sleepy, vulnerable expression that made her heart ache. "How long are you gonna stream?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost childlike.

"Just a few more minutes," Sof reassured him, her hand slipping down to rub his back soothingly. "I’ll wrap it up soon."

He sighed, his face falling slightly, clearly not wanting to leave her side. "Okay," he mumbled reluctantly, though it was obvious from the way he looked at her that he didn’t really want to go back to bed without her.

Sof smiled softly, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I’ll be there in a few, I promise," she whispered. "Go lie down, babe."

Chris hesitated for a moment, then slowly pulled away, dragging his feet as he made his way back to the bedroom. He cast one last glance over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before disappearing into the darkness of the room.

“Yeah, that’s Chris for you,” she said with a small laugh, her heart still feeling warm from how clingy he’d been. “He’s not feeling too great though. I’m gonna end the stream in a few minutes so I can go take care of him.”

The chat was full of supportive messages, telling her to take care of Chris and get some rest herself. Sof smiled as she read through the comments, grateful for her understanding community.

"Thanks, guys. You’re the best," she said, glancing at the clock. "I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. But right now, I need to go be with him." She laughed softly, her cheeks warming as she added, "He’s like a big baby when he’s sleepy."

After reading a few more comments, Sof wrapped up the stream, thanking everyone for joining her before shutting down the broadcast. The second the stream ended, she stood up and headed toward the bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden hue over everything. Chris was already lying down, curled up on his side with his arm stretched out across the bed as if waiting for her. His eyes were barely open, watching her as she approached.

Without a word, Sof slid into bed beside him, and Chris immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. He buried his face in her neck, his breath warm against her skin as he let out a content sigh.

"Better now?" Sof whispered, gently running her fingers through his hair.

"Mmm," Chris hummed, his voice a low, sleepy murmur. "Better now. Just needed you."

Sof smiled softly, her heart swelling with affection. "You’re so clingy tonight," she teased, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Chris let out a soft, tired laugh, his arms tightening around her. "Only for you," he mumbled, his voice already fading as sleep began to claim him again.

Sof held him close, her fingers still gently combing through his hair. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he relaxed into her, his breathing deep and even. As she closed her eyes, her own exhaustion finally catching up to her, she realized there was nowhere else she’d rather be than right here, wrapped up in Chris’s arms, with nothing but the quiet of the night surrounding them.

——————————————————————————

it was more than 1700 words, so i hope you liked it. if you have any ideas, write them down below. i would be really happy to know what do you want to read about.

lilsoftext<3

[allmoshnobrain]

ok hear me out 7) possessive sex with 80s james where he's kinda inexperienced with his own feelings so he gets really jealous bc some other guy has been flirting with you and just gives you the most possessive sex ever with lots of love bites and hickeys instead of communicating and you end up having to ask what's gotten into him and reassuring him in the end

tysm for the request, lovely! hope you like it <3

from this prompt list │requests are open! send yours here

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

james hetfield x reader │ word count: 2,6k

But James was also freaked out — what if you found someone cooler than him? Someone who wasn't as awkwardly shy as he was — I mean, he had waited a whole year before he mustered up the guts to ask you out. Dwelling on this wasn't doing him any favors; he needed some way to convince himself you weren't gonna ditch him, not for some dumb sound tech, not for anybody.

✦ on this fic: NSFW!!!, james hefield x female!reader, +18, language, romance, mxf sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, a bit of cockwarming at the end if you squint

Hanging out with Metallica had its perks, one of them being that you got to kick it backstage before and after their gigs. Those nights with the guys were always a blast, packed with music, drinks, and laughter. It was rad seeing how much they loved playing and watching their success grow in the Bay Area metal scene.

Another cool thing was getting to hang around your boyfriend, James. You hadn't been together for too long; after almost a year of crushing on each other, you had finally made it official just a month before. Of course, Lars, Kirk, and Cliff were already in the loop — they greeted the news with smiles and a playful "well, finally!" from Lars. But you weren't exactly shouting it from the rooftops, even though it wasn't hard to notice how James was always by your side, cracking silly jokes and flashing those easy smiles that showed just how much he adored you.

You grinned as the guys finished up yet another gig. The crowd that night had been wild, probably one of the craziest yet, leaving everyone pumped to celebrate. The band made their way backstage, chatting and laughing up a storm, and you trailed along, feeling James hook his pinkie with yours, a sweet gesture you were still getting used to.

"You good?" he asked, and you nodded. "Just gonna hop in the shower real quick, then we'll kick off the party, alright? Back in a jiffy."

You watched as James, Lars, Kirk, and Cliff headed towards the showers, a little smile dancing on your lips before you decided to snag a beer while you waited for them to return.

"Hey, can you grab one for me too?" you heard, glancing up to see one of the sound crew guys grinning at you as you fetched your beer from the fridge. You couldn't quite recall his name, but you remembered seeing him around backstage, always chatting mostly with Kirk and Cliff.

"Oh, sure thing. Here you go," you handed him the beer you were holding, reaching back into the fridge for another one for yourself.

"So, you liked the gig?" he asked with a grin.

"Absolutely, it was killer!" you replied, a smile spreading across your face. Metallica's shows always got you pumped; you just loved seeing your boyfriend and the boys tearing it up on stage. "How about you?"

"Yeah, yeah, it was cool. But I'm always more into the after-parties," he said, edging a bit closer with a smile, and you blinked, a bit confused. "Y'know, the drinks, the fun, the pretty girls..."

Oh. Was he hitting on you? Well, that was unexpected. You blushed, caught off guard, trying to figure out how to politely tell him that not only were you already taken — you were taken by James, and you knew he wouldn't be too thrilled to see someone from his crew making moves on his girl.

"Oh. I, uh, I'm sorry, but I'm..." you began, but your attention was quickly drawn elsewhere when you locked eyes with James, his blue gaze fixed on you from across the room. You smiled at him, unaware of the slight frown creasing his brow, a hint of annoyance in his expression. "Excuse me," you said, darting off to James.

"Hey, babe," he grumbled, pulling you close and wrapping an arm around your waist. "Having a good time?"

"Not really. It's kinda dull without you," you replied, giggling as he leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips.

James was usually pretty low-key about showing his affection, but seeing some other guy blatantly trying to hit on you had stirred up more insecurity than he cared to admit. He didn't really know how to handle it — everything was still so fresh, how you could make his heart skip a beat with just a grin, how he would always find himself wanting to be around you, but also how he'd feel that knot in his stomach whenever he caught someone else checking you out with that look in their eyes.

You were his. He'd wanted you to be his for so damn long, and now that he finally had you, he was determined not to let anything mess it up. But James was also freaked out — what if you found someone cooler than him? Someone who wasn't as awkwardly shy as he was — I mean, he had waited a whole year before he mustered up the guts to ask you out. Dwelling on this wasn't doing him any favors; he needed some way to convince himself you weren't gonna ditch him, not for some dumb sound tech, not for anybody.

"Come with me," he whispered against your lips, and you giggled as he took your hand, pulling you along through the backstage corridors.

“Where are we headed?” you asked, intrigued, but he didn’t answer. “James!” you laughed as he swung open a door to one of the dressing rooms, pulling you close against him, his lips eager for yours.

"Need you so bad," he groaned, his fingers eagerly tracing over your body. He lifted your shirt, and you gasped as he kissed you again, more fiercely this time, his tongue delving into your mouth, his teeth lightly nibbling at your lower lip. You moaned into the kiss, tangling your fingers in his long blonde hair.

"Jamie..." you breathed out, feeling your cheeks heat up as he unhooked your bra, cupping one of your breasts in his hand and giving your nipple a gentle pinch. He kissed you once more, this time trailing his lips along the tender skin of your neck, and you let out a gasp as he sucked on it, marking you with love bites all over your sensitive skin. You leaned back for a moment to tug his shirt off, giggling when he swooped in to kiss you again.

"Tell me you're mine," he grunted against your lips, lightly nipping at your lower lip before planting kisses on your cheek, your neck, your collarbones. You sighed contentedly, closing your eyes as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, gently sucking and nibbling while his hand caressed your other breast.

“I’m… I’m yours, James, oh…” you panted as he bit down on your nipple, kissing and sucking on your soft skin until he left yet another red mark. He'd never been this intense before, a wild possessiveness that made you shiver with excitement, but it also made you a little uneasy. Up until now, James had always been gentle with you, like he was afraid of hurting you if he wasn't careful enough. This wasn't his usual vibe; you knew something had to be up. "James," you moaned, trying to ease back a bit, but he just grunted, pulling you closer as he hungrily sought out your lips. "Jamie, hold on," you panted, and this time he paused, looking at you with somewhat unfocused eyes, his lips slightly swollen and his cheeks flushed. "Babe, what's going on?"

"What?" he frowned, a slight anxious smile quirking up his lips. You ran your fingers gently over his face, and he caught your wrist, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. "Do you want me to back off? Don’t you want me?" The way he posed that last question made your heart clench with concern.

"Why wouldn't I?" you whispered. "It's just... Don't get me wrong, I love it, but... You're usually... gentler with me," you blushed, averting your gaze.

“Oh, shit. Did I hurt you?” he asked, concern lacing his voice, and you shook your head no. He let out a relieved sigh.

"I just wanna know what's up," you pressed, and he sighed again, glancing away, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "Did I mess up?"

"Of course not. You're amazing," he assured you, cupping your face in his hands. You smiled, laying your hands on top of his. "It's just... I..." he bit his lip, and you gave his hands a gentle squeeze, urging him on. "I think I'm jealous."

“Jealous?” you echoed, surprised. He grunted. 

"I know it sounds dumb. But when I saw Rick hitting on you after the show, I... I couldn't help but wonder if you'd prefer me more if I was just a bit more confident. Like he is," he whispered, avoiding your gaze. You blinked, caught off guard.

"Babe," you whispered, and he met your eyes again, his blue gaze clouded with worry. "You know I'm with you because I like you, right? I don't want anybody else."

He nodded, a wave of relief washing over his face as a small smile crept onto his lips. You returned the smile, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned in to kiss him gently.

"I want you," you whispered, pressing yourself against him, and he let out a low groan, drawing you nearer. You blushed, releasing a soft sigh as he trailed kisses along your neck once more, this time with a gentleness that sent delightful shivers down your spine, his lips lingering over your love bites. "I'm all yours, James... Want me to show you?"

“Yes, please,” he mumbled against your neck, and you giggled as he guided you to the couch, settling down while you stood between his legs. You slipped off your skirt, kneeling down between his knees. He unzipped his jeans, lifting his hips a bit to slide off his pants and underwear. You blushed when you caught sight of his hard cock, the tip slick with precum as he wrapped his hand around the base, stroking it slowly.

You watched him touch himself for a bit, your lips parting slightly as you felt your anticipation building, warmth spreading between your legs. You looked up when he took hold of your chin, meeting his blue eyes as he pressed the tip against your lips. You obediently opened your mouth, sucking on him gently as he nudged his hips forward, easing his length inside your mouth. You moaned, tears welling in your eyes as you took a deep breath, doing your best to accommodate him.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, and you gripped his thighs, your nails leaving little marks on his skin. You shut your eyes as he guided your head up and down, taking it slow. You knew James was trying to be gentle, but he was so big it was tough not to choke on his length. He groaned, his other hand finding its way into your hair, gripping it as he rocked his hips. You moaned, breathing through your nose as he thrust into your mouth, and gasped as he pulled back.

“Fuck,” he gasped, and you let out a soft giggle as he lifted your chin, locking eyes with you. You licked your lips slowly, trying to catch your breath as a single tear rolled down your cheek. "C’mere," he moaned, and you stood up, straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You let out a little moan as you felt his tip pressing against the damp fabric of your panties. James gripped your hips, guiding you in slow, circular motions, grinding his cock against your wetness. "You're so wet," he moaned.

"It's all your fault," you whispered, planting slow kisses along his neck. He gripped your ass with one hand, lifting it to slide your panties off. He took hold of his cock, pressing the tip against your clit and rubbing it gently, eliciting a moan from you against his skin.

"Tell me you want me," he whispered, and you moaned as he pressed his cock against your entrance, teasing it in small circles without pushing into you. He groaned your name, and you kissed him, your lips moving languidly against his.

“I want you. Only you, Jamie,” you whispered against his lips, and moaned as he eased into you slowly, guiding your hips down as he filled you up. You felt your pussy tighten around him, panting as you adjusted to his size. “James…”

"You're so gorgeous," he whispered, holding your chin as he kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth leisurely. You moaned before you started to move, slow at first as you felt him stretch you open, his cock filling you completely. He was so damn big you didn't know how you could handle it all, but it felt so, so good. James seemed to be feeling it too; he tilted his head back with a low groan, offering you access to his neck. You kissed him, taking your time as you left your own little marks on his fair skin; if he was gonna mark you as his, you damn well were gonna mark him as yours.

You moved a little faster, moaning as he matched your rhythm, thrusting up into you. Finding a steady pace, your breasts bounced a bit as you rode him, your arms locked around his neck as you pressed your forehead against his, locking eyes as you both moaned, moving as one. You kissed him again, passionately, as you sped up, gently nipping at his lower lip.

"James..." you whispered, and let out a sharp moan when he pressed his thumb against your clit, circling it fast and making your pussy tighten around him. "James, I'm so close..."

"I know. I can feel it," he whispered, a smug grin playing on his lips that made you groan, burying your face in his neck as you blushed. He gripped your hip with one hand while the other teased your clit, and you cried out softly as you rocked your hips faster. "That's it..." he moaned, and you knew he was close too by how tightly he held you, his hips moving against yours harder. "That's it, babe, fuck..."

You whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair while your other hand gripped his arm, his lips moving against yours as he moaned into your mouth. Bringing one hand down to your clit, you felt the slick wetness with your fingertips, gently massaging your sensitive bud in slow circles as you rode James' cock, bouncing up and down while the tension in your body built more and more.

You could feel your peak coming in slow waves, your pussy tightening around James as he moaned and whispered incoherent praises in your ear. Burying your face in his neck, you let out a little cry of pleasure as the tension in your body unraveled, causing you to shake and contract as James picked up the pace, thrusting eagerly as he chased his own release. You moaned shakily as you felt him release his warm load inside you with a grunt, kissing him softly as you gradually stopped moving.

“I’m all yours,” you whispered, running your fingers over his face gently, and he smiled at you, his gaze unfocused as he drew you in for another kiss. "Only yours," you murmured against his lips, and he smiled back.

"I love you so damn much," he said, his voice husky. You grinned, kissing him again and again, soft little kisses that made him sigh contentedly.

"I love you too," you replied, and let out a soft moan as you felt him grow harder, still deep inside you. "Are you seriously getting turned on by me saying I love you?" you giggled.

"Damn right, I am," James chuckled, gripping your hips and moving his own hips slowly. You laughed too, feeling your cheeks flush. "Say it again."

"I love you," you said, feeling a blush spread as you felt his cock grow even harder inside you. "Just you," you whispered, and James grunted as he thrust slowly. "Fuck, James..."

"You ready for round two?" he asked with a smug grin, and you nodded with a giggle before wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips finding his again as he began moving inside you, filling you with that same sense of love and warmth all over again.

[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(Drunk Turbo Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Request here! Oh this loser… He just screams Oingo Boingo vibes, which is a bit ironic considering they were very popular during the 80s… I feel like I’ve probably already said this but I don’t care if I did or did not you know? I have a nasty habit of repetition lol)

- Who knows if alcohol (I believe Tappers sells Root Beer cause… Kids arcade game) or even cigarettes exist for the arcade members, but it’s fun to think about.

- I for one think him getting drunk is kinda rare, mostly because I think smoking and being self-absorbed among other things are his main way of coping with his emotions over drinking… Though he isn’t exactly against it.

- When he finally lets himself let loose and drinks at Tapper's… He drinks. Getting drunk as a goddamn skunk, like how Fix-It Felix chugged it in the… Sequel that must not be named, as witty as the name is. A real waste of a good movie name ngl.

- ANYWAYSSSS, I think he either somehow miraculously manages to find his way to you or you find him after one of your… Dare I say, friends?? Mutuals??? Complain about him being a drunk little shit and killing the mood.

- Honestly I think he flip flops from mean drunk to emotional drunk, really empathizing the turmoil that goes on in that gold ball shaped head of his.

- Going from wanting your comfort to insulting you, his speech is even more slurred than it usually is as he clutches onto you…. Freak.

- He’s so pathetic in that state, which is partly the reason why he doesn’t drink that much, against his whole thing of not being perceived as vulnerable keeping him from relying upon you like that.

- That reflects in his insults towards you as one might assume, insults elementary on the surface but tells you what’s going on in that fuzzy pea brain of his a lot more than it usually does.

- Alcohol really dumbs him down for a bit, too focused on standing up or the bug that’s clinging to the side of the wall to really string his thoughts together more concisely as words just pour out of his mouth if you poke and prod him just enough.

- Something tells me he does do the stupid ass cartoonish drunk hiccups when he’s smashed just enough… Why not? He has a bit of cartoonish whimsy to him.

- The type to try to get into a bar fight if he gets offended by some minuscule thing someone did or said, wrangling him is lot harder than one would think.

- Overall it’s usually not a great experience for any party though he does have his extremely rare moments of chilling the fuck out while drunk, mostly when he’s only sort of buzzed and still has some of his wits while being at home.

- Again I can see him being more clingy, not in a “Hehe I just like holding them💫💫🧚” but in a “Oh fuck I think I’m going to fall HELP—” Kind of way, he’s not the most graceful by any means.

- Like definitely as tripped over his shoelaces and makes you swear to keep that to yourself when he’s sober and embarrassed as all fuck when he’s able to recall the foolishness he partook in.

- Oh and keep him away from his kart— You think he’s a menace behind the wheel sober?? He is an absolute scrounge when he’s drunk, that one meme personified— Has definitely attempted to drive his kart into the Game Central Station before you put a stop to it much to his drunken annoyance.

- In a way, he was always wild, ‘liquid courage’ was just a more bitter way for that to be less constrained under his urge to maintain a powerful main character persona, makes him more honest but more incoherent.

- Rambling about what anything that comes to mind as he grips onto you as you lead him to Turbo Time to try to get him to wind down and hopefully sober up before opening time.

- Honestly, I think the more drunk he gets the more emotional side of his drunkenness comes out other than the usual slurred snarky remark he makes towards someone as they simply walk past him. Like I said he’s a little shit.

- A little attention-monopolizing hobgoblin who just so happened to get more than he should’ve drank.

- Hungover Turbo is a kind of creature you don’t want to mess with… Mean as a mother fucker, you just know his fellow racers taste his even uncaring cruelty as he fights back a migraine.

(. -. .. --. -- .- - .. -.-./.-. ..- ... .... . -../.-. . -.-. -.- .-.. . ... .../--- -... ... . ... ... .. ...- ./.-. .- -... .. -..)

[solecize]

fic preview: save the date | san x reader

from middle school walls to lecture halls, choi san was your ultimate nemesis that, for most of your life, fought to do everything better than you. even worse, there was no escape from him when your older sister and his older brother were childhood sweethearts, disgustingly in love. years later, the inevitable wedding bells had now come around the corner for them and as her maid of honour, you had one goal: making sure nobody fucked up the wedding. specifically, you were not going to let san, the best man, fuck up the big day.

unfortunately, when the ring goes missing less than twenty hour hours before the wedding, you have no choice but to work with the said best man who you drunkenly slept with days before the wedding - yes, the same one that you hated for over a decade - to track down a ten thousand dollar ring. starting from midnight, it's a race against the clock for you and san to go on the wildest chase of your life to, well, save the date. 

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: san/female reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. non idol au, epic rom com, academic rivals, childhood enemies to lovers, fluff, slight angst 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. foul language, violence, blood, mention of drugs and drug use, general substance use (smoking and drinking), y/n and san get stranded in a foreign city together after embarking on adventure where they almost get scammed, jumped, etc., assigned seats on an airplane trope, unrequited pining, san gets a glo up after coming back from the military, more to be added 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. n/a 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. tbd.

  being entrusted with the role of maid of honour meant a lot of things to different people, but it was different for you. you happily accepted the title for your sister’s wedding with one main goal in mind: making sure that no one fucks up the big day. specifically, making sure that choi san did not fuck up the big day. 

  unfortunately, with less than twenty-four hours before the wedding due to ring for your sister and san’s older brother, you realized that you were the one that fucked up.

  if someone were to tell you that you ended up dodging a robbery, lugging around a broken e-scooter, outrunning a rabid wild animal, and losing your phone the night before your sister’s wedding, you would have asked them what drugs they were on. and given a year’s worth of stress in anticipating and planning and fittings, you’d likely even ask them to share some. the worse part was that, you’d actually fucked up forty-eight hours before your sister’s wedding and the night you were currently having was just the cherry on top.

  but, that is where you found yourself in a foreign city with no money and no idea how to get back to your hotel at four in the morning. the only thing you could do was stare at choi san, still in his clothes from the rehearsal dinner earlier that night and was preoccupied with nursing his bruised knuckles. 

  san was not a smoker, but he leaned against the wall of a closed coffee shop with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “you think this is all my fault, don’t you?” he grumbled, finally meeting your sharp gaze.

  this was not even the beginning of the story, though. the real beginning of the story begins in middle school circa 2012, when your first ever crush ruined everything before anything could even happen by simply opening his mouth. 

  choi san was the transfer student that all of the girls in your year whispered and giggled about. you only caught a glimpse of him on the first day of school when you could barely make out his face at the school assembly. 

  “he’s so freaking cute! did you get to see him, y/n?” 

  your best friend at the time jogged up to you at lunch and by this point in the day, you’d heard from nearly all your classmates about the mysterious new kid. you were a bit exasperated, feeling as though you were missing out.

  you shook your head. “no. i think i saw the side of his face, but that’s it.”

  “look at his instagram,” she swooned, tapping on her phone until his profile came up.

  you would never admit it aloud, but you thought your heart skip a beat. “that’s what he looks like? oh my god, he plays basketball, too?”

  that pretty much sealed the deal for you. without shame, you pulled out your own phone to follow san on social media, since it already looked like he was gaining mutuals from other people in your school. everyday from then on seemed to be a game of “can you spot your crush” at school and you got the closest when you lingered a little bit too long after gym class, long enough that you left as soon as basketball try-outs for the boys team began. 

  it was 2012 and nothing else mattered to you except crushing over choi san from respectable distance, gangnam style, one direction, and reading all of the hunger games books. it was like this for the first couple months at school, until you and san finally encountered one another.

  you heard from others that san was incredibly bright and academically gifted, so you were hoping that, he too, would join robotics club. it felt like a dream when your wishes came true and san walked into the first meeting of the season.

  “you’re totally staring at him,” whispered yeosang on this day, to which you elbowed him for. yes, you were definitely staring, but he could have just chose to keep his mouth shut.

  you’d avoided directly speaking to san for the first few meetings, just out of nerves alone. eventually, the club’s first major competition was to come around the corner and the club had to brainstorm their plan. 

  as one of the returning members from the year prior, you expected to be met with respect and have your opinions be considered important. the faculty supervisor had even told you that he had hopes for you taking over as captain in the next year, after the current leader, hongjoong, graduates. 

  “i can take charge of the programming team,” you offered, as hongjoong went over the challenge announcement of the competition.

  that was the moment everything went wrong.

  it looked there was no opposition, until you heard a chuckle from the other side of a room. you were confused, not recognizing the voice. spinning around, you saw that it was san and your heart dropped.

  “you? do you even know how to code?” his eyebrows were raised. 

  your jaw could have easily hit the floor, as you narrowed your eyes at him. “what?” was all you could say.

  “you’re a girl, there’s no way you should be in charge of programming.”

  that year, there were only three girls in robotics club, which was an improvement from the two the year before. it was you, who was the only female member with experience in the club, and then sunyoung and yena. 

  sunyoung never fucking spoke, she never even made eye contact with anyone. she kept to herself and was never going to speak up, but you knew that she was the highest ranking student in your year and had skipped an entire grade. you couldn’t believe sunyoung let that slide. meanwhile, yena always insisted that she was “one of the boys” and was the kind of girl to talk your head off about how she hates taylor swift. you might’ve even heard her murmur in agreement to what san said.

  “are you a fucking idiot?” your thirteen year old self snapped at san, eliciting gasps from around the room. 

  of course, your foul mouth came from none other than your headstrong older sister and at the same moment you began forming a life-long hatred for choi san, she was a couple blocks away at the high school, falling in love with choi san’s older brother during chemistry class. it was a classic high school love story, meeting as lab partners and experiencing first love in between shelves at the library. 

  one day, when your sister happily skipped into your room and sang that she now had a boyfriend, it had been weeks since you already declared san your nemesis. from what you remember, she was so head over heels for her lab partner that it was nauseating - she had to have been, since she was now marrying him over ten years later. 

  “he has a little brother your age, you know,” she said, later the same night. “goes to your school, maybe you’ve met him.”

  the two of you were relaxing on your bed, as your sister scooted closer to show you pictures of her new and first-ever boyfriend on her phone. you raised an eyebrow at her, wondering who she was talking about. 

  “maybe. what’s his name?” you asked.

  “san. choi san.”

[lana-llama-in-pajamas]

thick as blood

sweet as milk

chapter 4 (parts seems juvenile)

a few days have passed and you finally cleaned your home, the bathroom was a lot nicer now and yes to Francis's odd dismay your apartment looked like a green house, today was rainy so you stayed in writing thank you letters to your neighbors.

Francis was at his last stop. he walked up the steps of a very nice new home, one of those buy to build homes he's seen on Sears catalogs (look it up, very cool)

he knocked on the door with his foot as he carried more milk than a normal household would use, the door opened via a very pretty woman in a blue polka dot dress and blue sweater "Francis! you got my call" she opened the door wide as he walked passed her placing the jug crate on the counter "you wouldn't believe how many cakes the school is asking of me" she continued following him in filling up a glass of lemonade "isn't your husband a baker?" he asked nodding as he took the drink from her "he's too held up with catering the convention that rolled in" she answered folding her arms standing across from him "but I did want to spring something up on you...we've known each other for a bit would you say?" she asked almost in a whisper. Francis stopped mid sip nodding slowly thinking of the million things she was about to say "right...you know my daughter Amelia" she walked passed him into the living room, Francis followed even more puzzled "she's 15 now no?" "yes" god why was she being so vague? "sit, please" she pointed to her pristine yellow couch "you see my daughter got a cat and as funny as it is now we're sad to say she's deathly allergic" she awkwardly laughed "you don't know anyone who would want one hm?" he stared blankly at her for a moment mentally cursing her for freaking him out "Joan, I don-...actually I do know someone in the need of a companion" Joan's eyes sparkled a little "great! Johnny bring the cat" she called upstairs and a few moments later a little boy still in his pajamas carried down a small kitten in his arms "milkman! your taking my sisters cat?" he asked running over to him, the poor kitten wiggling around as he did so "yes i am" "but cats are for girrrllss ewww" Johnny laughed passing the poor sleepy thing to him

"I'm giving it to a girl, but no cats are for men too." francis pet it gently "my dad says sooo" the little kid huffed "ok back to your room." Joan pulled his ear on the way back to the hallway going into his room coming back moments later with bags and a litter box "toys, litter, litter box, and food. its still too small for solid foods so, a little baby formula warm water and the kibble should be good" she pointed to each bag explaining how it worked before sitting down on the armchair beside couch. “ so we’re giving it to a girl, not to fit the stereotype, but is this lady in another home you deliver to?”Joan snickered slapping his knee, hoping that Francis will get the joke, Francis kind of did , but like everyone else Joan couldn’t read him “ She’s my door lady. She actually saved the building from an dopple attack a few nights ago.”he told Joan inspecting the small fluff ball “oh wow must be an intimidating woman” Joan said imagining a large gruff woman with a killer stare, if Francis could read her mind he would’ve laughed but he continued “she seems the type to have a pet.” He got up carrying the bags and box on his hip heading for the door “thanks for the gift Mrs. Wilde” Joan got up to open the door for him “Yaknow Francis, in old Viking tradition gifting a cat to a woman is a symbol of courtship” she said raising a brow hoping to fluster the brick wall “…I don’t think she’s of Viking origin” he said back making Joan face palm “but that is interesting, you were a mythology major?” He asked placing the items into his truck wrapping the kitten in a jacket before gently placing it in the passenger side “ I was, but you know how it goes. You think you’re going to live a life of independence and then you get married to a baker.” Joan looked at the horizon saying that. Francis looked at her with a softened gaze before she snapped to reality “sorry, I hope she loves the cat, and I hope the goddess freya doesn’t get any ideas haha” Joan turned around fixing her sweater hearing Francis as she got to her door “…..your still a mythology major.” He turned around getting into the truck driving off. Joan still at the entrance, smiling in acknowledgment.

Back at your apartment, the twins were back gossiping to you about model drama you could barely understand while they randomly asked questions about you, “ oh and Eliza got fatter so now we all have to weigh before booking! Can you believe it?? Let the girl eat a little extra cake at her mom’s funeral!” Selenne laughed sipping her tea “oh speaking of, miss mia wants us to help her with the wedding venue! Everyone in the building is invited. ” Elenois shook you a little clearly excited “I forgot they were fiancées, since they live together anyway” you giggled pouring another cup for everyone “ y/n! You didn’t tell us you were a max traditionalist~” Celine pointed at you, smiling “ of course not it’s just since they live together. My brain just automatically thinks that.” You felt a little embarrassed but the twins were known to make people sweat for fun. “ Miss Mia wants to have it during the summertime so we have a long time to prepare.” Sel sat back looking out the window “ good thing she doesn’t want it during the spring. It’s so rainy here.”

Francis knocked at the door the cat meowing, he knew it was hungry so it was a perfect opportunity to teach y/n how to care for it, you opened the door smiling then looking straight at the dramatic kitten meowing loudly “ you found a cat?” You asked getting on your toes to see it closer making Francis die of cuteness on the inside thinking to himself ‘she really did that almost automatically, how adorable’ mentally slapping himself he lowered his hand passing the kitten to her, y/n didn’t know if the cat was tiny or Francis hands were huge because it really fit in the palm of his hand only it’s a little leg spilling out, grab the sweet thing, putting it to your chest “aww poor baby, I bet your hungry” he spoke softly, almost afraid to burst its ear drums with your normal tone, Francis look down at you now getting the picture.

he was attracted to you.

You were smaller than him which every 1950s man wants from a partner and you look beautiful doing everything mundane like if he took a picture at a random moment, you would look like a model no matter what. As if someone directed you in that exact pose. And you dressed nicely. He Longed to see you in more colorful items, just to see your features shine brighter. He stared at you in his mind lovingly

But you looked back up to see the most stern look with furrowed brows “um…did I say something?” you got nervous stoking the cat for comfort “ the cat is hungry but do not feed it milk. That is a myth.” he spoke plainly opening one of the bags putting the food items on the table “ baby formula, warm water, and a little bit of kibble is good for the cat, what will you name it ?” He asked sounding pretty excited about the name part “ maybe we should feed it first and then think of a name” you said leading him into the kitchen with the supplies “hiii francy” the twins waved as he did back before they giggled to themselves “he was absolutely fucking her with his eyes “ selenne pushed her sister’s shoulder whisper yelling “ shutup, that’s so not appropriate!” El covered her mouth, both trying their hardest not to laugh too loud.

You and Francis came back from letting the cat eat sitting on the couch, the twins took the cat from you to pet and prod, “it might scratch” Francis pointed “ let them, I heard prodding pets is a good thing because it makes them more tempered” y/n poured him some tea “you had pets before?” He asked thanking her for the tea “we need to hear some y/n lore” Sel nodded “ I didn’t have pets, but my grandparents did, dogs cows, sheep, wasn’t a farm. It was more like a ranch. My parents live in the city like this one and they never really liked animals” you said studying your tea leaves “ Where is your family?” El asked rubbing the kittens belly “ across the country, I have a cousin who lives here. They are really busy.” You looked out the window at the rain. You didn’t want to tell them the whole truth. “We can understand, it seems everyone in this building has busy lives, aside from the housewives” Francis said ”your right” you nodded “oh have you heard about the wedding?” El asked Francis “no, wedding? You two are getting married?” He asked a little frantic “no no we’re not throwing out our careers yet. Mia’s and Dr. aftons wedding!” Selenne rolled her eyes “oh, yes the doctor asked me to be in the grooms party, I think his bachelor party will be at the bowling alley” "yeah sounds like Dr. afton" Sel sighed "mia still doesnt know what she wants, but she does wanna vote so we all have fun!" El smiled surveying the room, francis was staring at his tea cup but you were in the conversation completely "anyway we forgot we have a alot of calls to make love ya bye" she placed the kitten in your hands before pulling her sister out of the apartment "lets give the love birds forced time alone" she whispered to her twin closing the door behind them

"odd" francis glanced at the door

"yeah, hope everythings ok" you sighed looking down at the cat as he stared at you

“Name?” Francis asked clearing his throat “no idea…I’ll think about it” you placed the kitten on the couch as it played with the tassels on the pillow “well, I’m going to head home, tell me when you name her, I’m excited to know” he said you got up and smiled walking him to the door “of course Francis, thank you for the gift” you blushed opening the door hoping for anything “Yaknow I heard that a man giving their loved one a cat is a proposal in Norse mythology” he said grabbing your hand and kissing it “but neither of us are of Viking blood I don’t think ” (sorry if you are) he walked to his door and you stared holding your hand kissing it softly to feel his lips in spirit

A few weeks had passed and you were on a late shift again. The cat followed you around the building so in turn she now had a bed in the office, it 9pm and you had to wait for 5 of the residents to come home late from a press party

Natasha was in the office playing with the cat “do you have a name for her yet?” She asked making it chase a mouse on a string “no…suggestions?” You pulled out a list of names residents have considered passing it to the little girl “hm..” she wrote a few names even her own “…no Natasha” you said crossing out hers, she shrugged and went back to the cat, time passed and you got a little worried turning on the radio, the twins giving you which channel had the convention/press party coverage. You listened in, and rolled your eyes at the sounds of officials and other higher ups giving empty speeches, a knock at the door made you jump looking up to see natcha with her arms folded staring at her daughter “so. This is what you do at bedtime now? I thought I had more time before you started sneaking out” she held her temple sighing you got up feeling guilty for not even asking Natasha if she even asked her mom to be with you “I’m sorry I just assumed since it’s Friday um, I should have called you ma’am” you looked down seeing natcha look back at you with the ‘mom look’ “no don’t apologize, I should have checked on her earlier but I was busy cleaning, Natasha. Room. Now. And I’m taking your record player tomorrow” she said it so calmly, no yelling just a sweet calm yet stern tone “aww mom!! I’m gonna be bored all day!” Natasha folded her arms pouting “ too bad so sad. Up.” She pointed out the door and Natasha walked still pouting “so sorry you had to see punish my child y/n” natcha said fixing her house coat “no no don’t worry about, I just wish my parents were as calm as you are” you smiled seeing another resident walk over, Francis looked over “something happen?” He asked standing near natcha at the doorway, you could see her side step to not touch him. Her face contorting slightly but fixing itself “Natasha sneaked out to play with the cat n the doorman” she said side eyeing him “nat? Sneaking out? She’s 11” he said just kind of knowing? You felt your stomach drop a bit…hoping they couldn’t tell “she’s 12 in a week.” Natcha stated before walking off “goodnight everyone.” She went back to her sweet tone, there it was. The way he turned to look at her, it shot you in the heart a bit “your still working?” He asked walking in, the cat rubbing against him purring “a few of the residents are still not here, neither is the night shift” you looked away from him with a sour look on your face, you felt so stupid. You two were not a thing and also haven’t even kissed yet and here you are assuming a broken family and getting jealous of a woman who’s only ever shown you kindness not to mention fed you. Francis could tell you were reeling from something but didn’t know how to approach “…I can make you a coffee, I got donuts from a friend today” he walked over placing his hand on your arm “you look tired” his warm hand and gravily voice from just waking up made you feel better yet worse, “your one to talk” you smiled trying to let go “so mean” he let go “ I’ll be back” he walked off, you watching the way he moved Lowkey checking the sway of his ass but quickly looking away. The cat sat at the desk ‘listening’ to the radio with you as you gave it scritches “what about Lucy? Mimi? Tiger?” You read off the list of names to the feline hoping it would give some type of approval but you were sure if it nodded you would scream. Francis came back placing a coffee and a muffin and donut “pick” he said pointing, you grabbed his hand pointing it to the chocolate muffin “ I don’t want to be up all night via sugar and coffee” you smiled taking a bit “thank you” you covered your mouth he hummed taking the donut kissing your head before walking out. God you want to fly and throw yourself out a window at the same time, two people walked in, the pilots. Both disfigured and grotesque slamming the papers against the window making you jump “let us in. Miss door man.” One said somehow with a stitched mouth “eat my ass.” You said back making the younger one angry trying to get to you through the paper hole. Fuck I ran out of spa

[hellothisisangle]

i wonder, would Cae just bang anyone in the camp? 🧐 (shadowheart? minthara???? GOOD ALIGNED TAV?!!!!!!!)

It entirely depends on what time we’re talking, because fresh post-worm Cae doesn’t have a high opinion of himself. He would sleep with anyone who showed any interest in him, being desperate for a connection and companionship

After he gains his self confidence he has the ability to be choosy, but he isn’t picky. He’s just living life and exploring what he truly wants. The thing about Cae’s view on sexual activity is that he’s still not THAT confident. He is more of a carefree flirt because it’s in his nature, though he doesn’t realize how promiscuous it comes across a lot of the time. If he realized that someone was interested in him, he wouldn’t make the first move- he’d wonder why they like him and silently fantasize until he gets obsessed. All in all, he could probably be swayed to be with anyone, because he tends to focus on the “good” aspects (the fun) of a person and ignore red flags

May as well speculate about Cae’s views of a romantic possibility with each main companion:

Shadowheart 🟢 Likes: her introspection and hidden softer tendencies Dislikes: She was pretty haughty to Cae from the get-go. The whole Sharran indoctrination, post-worm Cae can’t understand doing anything for a higher power and not yourself

LaeZel 🟢 Likes: immaturity, domination, reverence in pain Dislikes: seriousness, prudish behavior outside the bedroom

Minthara 🟢/❌ Likes: pragmatism, commanding presence, manipulative cunning. Cae can appreciate someone who knows how to get what they want Dislikes: She is legitimately a bit too mean for him, and he is turned off by the fact that she is so into the Bhaal aspect

Karlach ❌ Likes: living in the moment Dislikes: She was already spoken for by Tav, but even if she wasn’t, Karlach really gives him big-sis vibes. I don’t think either would hit on eachother

Gale 🟢 Likes: thirst for learning and ambition, both freaks in the sheet Dislikes: being chided for wild behavior or for doing something without thinking

Wyll 🟢/❌ Likes: charming-prince-like qualities Dislikes: reservedness, selflessness

Halsin 🟢/❌ Likes: almost hedonistic behavior Dislikes: Cae didn’t look twice at Halsin due to him already having a crush on another large elf

Tav (good-aligned elf paladin Emmaenuel) 🟢 Likes: Cae looks up to righteous people who know who they are Dislikes: selflessness and good Tavs annoy Cae at times, because he does a lot of morally not-so-great-things and he doesn’t like being told what not to do

Astarion 🟢 Likes: humor, selfishness, the “we can make eachother worse” behavior Dislikes: not being open/communicating, they actually fight often- typically over nothing important, just tiny annoyances that become an ego escalated spat (they make up quickly)

[nawoken]

Ơ v Ơ

Thanks for liking my post guys, I appreciate it. So I will start spreading my mind when I don't have anything better to do from now on then.

Hm, today will be... a reader from Gravity Falls, who got transported into TWST world. Oh, reminds me of those good old days, when we still had a bunch of good-quality cartoons.

(T vT)

You can be a friend of Dipper and Mabel, who joined them on their trip to Gravity Falls. Or the town's resident, who has always known about this place's weirdness but most of the time, when you bring it up, no one actually believes you. You can even be the twins' sibling, or well... Lil Gideon's dogsbody (no one want this right?)... That's your choice.

I want to build a reader who has enough understanding of those mystery creatures so it's better if you have a few links with the main cast :")))

After the defeat of Bill Cipher, a few years went by in peace. Until one day you wake up in a whole different world that has magic. Great, it's cool, you're fine, nothing too bad yet, it can be worse, right? After all, you used to encounter many more strange things than this.

Maybe, after not being able to contact you for a long time, Dipper will realize your disappearance and find a way to help you. Or..., the headmage in front of you can do something like he said.

Nope, you're wrong, he is useless, that's what you realized after staying there for a while. That biscuit doesn't even care about finding a way back for you! So, you have to find another way while facing a bunch of other overblots.

You've never really told anyone else about stuff you used to face back in your world, mystery creatures, monsters, and a Dorito from different dimensions.

Mostly because when they asked why you can face all this "transport to another world" or "fighting some gooey inky monster" things so calmly. Or why did you act so aggressively about making a deal with Octoville Housewarden. You told them how you used to fight this triangle entity from different dimensions, that planned to destroy your world, but they would just brush it off or say that you have a wild imagination.

You feel a bit sad when it happens, but you get it. Some magicless people can fight off a Dream Demon that can control space, matter, and even time? That must be hard to believe. So you just let it be.

~~~

But, out of nowhere, mystery creatures start to appear around the Isle of Sages.

What do you mean you saw Gnomes with a red cap and blue outfit running around in the jungle? And there is a whole island that suddenly appeared overnight?! Some scientists tried to approach it and it arose from the river, appeared to be a freaking giant head?!

It's all too familiar to you. After all, you had gotten into a bunch of trouble with them during your stay at Gravity Falls. It must be that this island has some kind of connection with that town!

Then, you just have to find that connected point to open the dimensional portal, and come home, right? Maybe, the twins with their uncles will get to you before you even have to do all that.

So, you just acting like normal. But your friends don’t want that. Mostly Grim, Aduece, Epel, and Ortho when they took an interest in the mystery thing that recently appeared inside NRC. Jack and Sebek tried to protest, saying that it was stupid but got provoked by “Why? Are you scared?” from the others.

You got dragged in, mainly because you worry for them. Even when they have magic, you still have more experience with this than them. You don't have the Journals with you but you used to spend quite a lot of your time studying and understanding them alongside the Pines twins. So, you’ve memorized most of it, if not all.

~~~~~~

The moment your groups step into this strange part of the forest, with some big red mushrooms with dots and some floating shiny orbs come straight out of a fairytale. You know this is a "Gnome Forest".

Before you can get everyone out of this place to avoid meeting those creepy creatures that have an obsession with finding a Gnome queen. You see Jade, observing and taking note of the mushrooms.

Jade: What a pleasure meeting you guys here.

Deuce: J...Jade-senpai?! What are you doing here?

Ace: Ye, and where is Floyd, is he sneaking also around?!

Jade: Fufu... don't you think it a bit rude to ask questions without stating your reason for being here?

Jade: But, as you can see, I'm studying these delightful mushrooms. And, no, unfortunately, my brother isn't into this kind of thing so there's only me.

Jade: ... Then?

Epel: W...what? Oh, we're here for the mystery creatures that been lurking around.

Jade: Oh, from the rumors?

Epel: *Nod* Yes.

Ace: Hm, you must be here for a while, have you seen anything yet?

Jade: Sadly, no. However, I do hope that I can encounter one of those, Azul might take an interest in them (For business thingy, I guess). Hm,... do you mind if I join you guys?

Deuce: Uh, no...

Jade: Great! ^v^

(Okay, that is, I'm out of brain juice for that conversation. Hope that is not too Ooc (XvX))

You stood aside, looking around worriedly while Ace bickered with Deuce due to letting Jade join. Jack felt your restlessness, mistaken that you're scared so he tried to comfort you. Sebek saw it and loudly said something about how weak humans are.

That's when some shadows dash by, Jade, Jack, Ortho, and Sebek become more alert while the others are a bit startled. Grim screaming something about not wanting to be eaten and clinging onto Ace's face though.

Looking back and forth a few times just for you guys turned to Epel, and saw a Gnome right next to him with a flower in hand. You know that shoot, Jeff! And! seeing his action, you also realized what come next.

Epel: ...For me?

Jeff: Yes, for you, my... future queen! (I can't, this is too much, I'm dying)

Gotta say, your friends have a good laugh except for Epel, who looks about to explode and Jade has this amused smile. If not for how bad the situation actually is, you might laugh as well.

Y/N: Guys, we should go.

Jeff: WAIT!!! Let me introduce myself first, I'm Jeff, Gnomes' leader. And, we are looking for a new queen...blah blah... (sorry)

At some point, Epel blew up, and he started throwing spells and that's when they knew what Jeff meant by them. 1000 Gnomes running out from God know where merged into a huge Gnome then chased them after their fail attempt of fighting it.

Ace: WTF is that?!

Deuce: How can we fight it if it keep merging?!

Grim: Wroahhhh, It's so fast!

Ace: You should just accept their marriage proposal!

Epel: WHAT DID YOU SAID?!

Jack: Why did I agree with this...

Sebek: I KNOW THAT I SHOULDN'T LISTEN TO YOU GUYS!

Ortho: This is quite fun, isn't it?

Others: NO!

You are tired of running, Jade has already gone out of sight the moment that thing compiling. You tried to reach inside your backpack, you were prepared for this after all! Your dog whistles. You just need to find it from the pile of things you quickly stuffed into your bag.

Finally! You quickly told everyone to cover their ears, mostly for Jack and Sebek due to their sharp hearing, and blew the whistle. That giant Gnome started to fall apart, and those Gnomes quickly ran away, far from the noise that hurt their ears.

Ace: Uh... What was that?!

Epel: Prefect, h..how can you do it?!

Grim: Haha, good job my henchman, I know you can do it.

Y/N: Gnomes, they have enhanced hearing so they can't bear high-pitch noise.

Deuce: But, how did you know that? Did you read about it somewhere?

Ortho: I don't think so, I've scanned them and I don't find any research about those creatures. So, prefect, where do you study about it?

Jade: I also want to know. (^v^)

Sebek: Where are you coming from?!

Y/N: Guys, just calm down. About those creatures, of course, I know about them. It's from my world after all.

Others (minus Jade): What?!

Jade: Oh... that's really interesting.

Deuce: Why have you never told us this story?!

Y/N: *stared back at him unamused*

Ortho: Hm... I do remember they used to say something about fighting supernatural entities.

Ace: But, I thought that just some jokes!

Y/N: Well, now you know it not.

Epel: Wait, so you did fight those?!

Y/N: Yes.

Sebek: Hm, maybe you're not as weak as I think, human.

Jack: Is that why you're worrying then entire time?

Y/N: Yes, I just don't know how to warn you guys since you're not gonna believe me.

Others: Sorry...

It can be said that everything ends happily. You guys talked to Crowley and he has to start doing some research about your theory of the connection between Isle of Sages and Gravity Falls (Ramshakle dorm).

You become a storyteller for the first-year gang, Jade (he wants to know all the information), and you might not know but also Rook, who observed your groups from afar the day of the exploration. Telling them about those creatures that you've faced, the journals, the Pine twins, their uncles,... and even about Bill Cipher.

You tell them, they tell the others. The famous magicless Prefect used to fight paranormal and supernatural entities that have been lurking around lately?! Only your friends actually believe in it, but that's enough for you.

Until they started to find you for more information, so Ortho helped you create a blog to spread some, not every single of them though. Should start some business by solving mysterious things. Talked to Azul and he might help you, you used to help him so he wouldn't trick you with his deal,... right?

Well, who knows? You know quite clearly the consequence of making a deal without thinking right?

______

EBIIL LIA COFBKA

JFPP JB?

Why is it this long?! I just want to type something fun and spread some idea but then it turns into a whole ass rambling :')

I still have more for it, but I'm lazy, my brain might or might not die at this point and I can hear light, see noises... I should sleep but I'm hungry. :'))))

English is my second language so there might be some confusing things in my wording, let me know if you feel there is anything that needs to be corrected, thank you.

I also haven't had a chance to finish Gravity Falls' series and it also has been a while since the last time I saw it. I've tried my best to gain more information about it when wrote this but if I am wrong about something, please tell me.

Anyway, I might do part 2 for this if I'm in the mood. See ya!

Oh, Also, Idia found this CD. It's old, yes. But it's an old game CD! Might be worth a ton this day. But, most importantly, he wouldn't say no to ancient games. An otome game about dating a pink-haired high-school girl... (I changed her ending a bit I guess).

[jq37]

Are we sure Sandralynn wasn't cursed with like. Shit taste?

It's def a real mixed bag, though I think besides Bobby it's more just wild choices than straight up bad choices.

Bobby Dawn: Regular Freak. Liar, Frumpy, Wrong. Cheated on his wife and then ruined another woman's life over it. This is not a a ranking so I'm not giving him a score but I almost wish it was so I could give him a comically low number. Actually, there aren't any rules here. I still can. Negative infinity and kick rocks. If I was Sandra Lynn's friend I would be *begging* for her to love herself (or at least have a better sense of self preservation) and RUN GIRL.

Gilear Faeth: Gilear was a successful, hot elf before his loser energy kicked in because of his curse. Wasn't he like a diplomat or something? Like, Gilear now is a loveable loser but Gilear then was probably kind of a catch. And hell, Fabian's mom likes loser Gilear and she's a pretty hot commodity herself. As Sandra Lynn's friend I would be doing cartwheels if she moved on from Bobby to be with Gilear. 1000% improvement. And, for what it's worth, so is loser Gilear. Most guys would be frankly.

Gorthalax: Def seems a bit reactionary to go from a cleric of Sol to one of Sol's fallen angels turned devils. But Gorthalax is a nice guy from what we've seen and as a devil of gluttony he prob can conjure up some killer date night food. I think that if I could get over the shock of him being a MAJOR DEVIL, as Sandra Lynn's friend, I could warm to the idea. And he's not Bobby Dawn so instant improvement. However, as there was infidelity involved this would be another GIRL WHAT? reaction from me. But again, less about the guy himself, more about the decision to cheat.

Jawbone: OK so the thing about Jawbone is that I think he's great and a super good person and he's Brennan's semi-self insert so of course I love him. But he would also be an insane person to know IRL. Like, the stories he tells so casually. I think I'd be like, uh are you sure about this one? But he seems to have at least mostly chilled out now that he's working with kids and I think he's a really great guy. There's maybe a risk of contracting Lycanthropy but I'm sure they're using whatever protection you use for that. Solid guy as long as you're cool with his past.

Garthy: When Garthy was introduced, 80% of the fandom was instantly thirsting over them so objectively, "Garthy is hot" is a pretty mainstream opinion. And even if you (like myself) were in the 20% of people not thirsting over them, they're still very clearly a good person between raising Ayda and being super into self care (I loved the scene with them and Mercer's char in PoL). Also they're just really cool conceptually. So again, very normal person for Sandra Lynn to wanna hook up with. The problem, once again, is the infidelity. Especially because Jawbone was willing to have an open relationship! He closed the relationship for her! She took an L here for no reason!

So, to recap: shitty guy, good guy (who was cursed), devil (who is a good guy* and also an affair partner), good guy (with a wild past), and hot pirate (who is a good person* and also an affair partner).

*I don't remember if they knew Sandra Lynn was in a relationship when they were hooking up with her and am not factoring that into my judgement.

Besides Bobby Dawn, the rest of her choices were pretty OK (unless I'm forgetting stuff). Wild and with no obvious connecting thread--she absolutely has a rogue's gallery to rival Batman's--but it seems like the problems she had with relationships came down more to stuff other than, "She picked an objectively bad guy."

She really has the most inconsistent taste ever. I can't even begin to categorize what her type is. Gilear and Garthy should never been on any list together besides, "NPCs with G names."