#but I need to take space to figure out something I can actually do rather than just watching helplessly on the internet which doesn’t help

[faithfromanewperspective]

just a heads up I may take a break from tumblr for a bit (or I may not. I may fail at it which we’ll deal with if we get there) because it’s starting to feel like the news rn. and I know my limit but also my creativity as an activist and how negativity does stifle it and I’ll be a better activist if I step away and focus on solutions for a while.

I might post some of these solutions:: I’m doing a course on making an impact via business as well as my urban design stuff and I’m gonna post some of that at some point, some guinea fowl pics and I’ve got some music for over at @edge-oftheworld that’s almost ready to put up. so I’ll still check my notifs and if you see something I’d like please please please tag me in it??? I will appreciate an awful lot. just need to not see sad world news for a second but I want to see your neurodivergence headcanons and ideas and what you think of songs.

also dm me if you want my Instagram or fb or email or linkedin idk just know I rarely check all of those too but I will change my ways if we are having a good conversation :)

[whispers-whump]

Some writing advice

that I like to use when I write. None of this is meant to be taken as hard and fast rules, they’re just things I like to do/keep in mind when I’m writing and I thought maybe other people would enjoy! <3

Never say what you mean

This is an offshoot of the very common “show don’t tell” advice, which I think can be confusing in application and unhelpful for scenes where telling is actually the right move. Instead, I keep the advice to never say exactly what I mean in stories.

By using a combination of showing and telling to hint at what you really mean, you force your reader to think and figure it out on their own, which makes for a more satisfying reading experience.

You might show a character getting angry and defensive in response to genuine care and concern. You could tell the audience that the character doesn’t see/talk to their parents often. But never outright give the real meaning that the character feels unlovable because of their strained relationship with their parents and as a result they don’t know how to react to being cared for.

Your readers are smart, you don’t need to spoon feed them.

Be sparse with the important things

You know how in a lot of movies there’s that tense scene where a character is hiding from something/someone and you can only just see this person/thing chasing them through a crack in the door? You get a very small glimpse of whatever’s after the character, sometimes only shadows being visible.

Do that in your writing. Obscure the important things in scenes by overdescribing the unimportant and underdescribing the important.

You might describe the smell of a space, the type of wood the floor is made of, the sound of work boots moving slowly across the room, a flashlight in the character’s hand. And there’s a dead body, laying in a pool of blood in the far corner of the room, red soaking into the rug. Then move on, what kind of rug is it? What is the color, patterns, and type of fabric of the rug?

Don’t linger on the details of the body, give your reader’s imagination some room to work while they digest the mundane you give them.

Dialogue is there to tell your story too

There’s a lot of advice out there about how to make dialogue more realistic, which is absolutely great: read aloud to yourself, put breaks where you feel yourself take a breath, reword if you’re stuttering over your written dialogue. But sometimes, in trying to make dialogue sound more realistic, a little bit of its function is lost.

Dialogue is more than just what your characters say, dialogue should serve a purpose. It’s a part of storytelling, and it can even be a bridging part of your narration.

If you have a scene with a lot of internal conflict that is very narration-heavy, breaking it up with some spoken dialogue can be a way to give some variety to those paragraphs without moving onto a new idea yet; people talk to themselves out loud all of the time.

Dialogue is also about what your characters don’t say. This can mean the character literally doesn’t say anything, they give half-truths, give an expected answer rather than the truth (“I’m fine”), omit important information, or outright lie.

Play with syntax and sentence structure

You’ve heard this advice before probably. Short, choppy sentences and a little onomatopoeia work great for fast-paced action scenes, and longer sentences with more description help slow your pacing back down.

That’s solid advice, but what else can you play with? Syntax and sentence structure are more than just the length of a sentence.

Think about things like: repetition of words or ideas, sentence fragments, stream of consciousness writing, breaking syntax conventions, and the like. Done well, breaking some of those rules we were taught about language can be a more compelling way to deliver an emotion, theme, or idea that words just can’t convey.

Would love to hear any other tips and tricks other people like to use, so feel free to share!!!

[mstase]

DESCRIBING THE MOON SIGNS

some of these are based on the people I’ve met, so you may not resonate with some of it. there are also probably other aspects in your birth chart that say otherwise, so please read this with a grain of salt.

♨️ aries moon - such people have a subtle yet sharp look, often with a prominent feature like a wide forehead or a generally strong build. their fiery emotions are written all over their face, and you can spot their short fuse from a mile away. they’re not the type to bottle things up; it’s more like they need to let it out, erupting like a volcano. these folks are impulsive, prone to sudden outbursts, but surprisingly, they don’t hold onto grudges—they move on as fast as they flare up. they tend to have mood swings, being all emotional one minute and totally chill the next. there’s this childlike energy about them—they get hyped up easily and are full of passion. but just like kids, they can be pretty immature when it comes to handling their feelings. when they were young, they might have fought a lot due to their impatient nature and tendency to react quickly and get frustrated, but they eventually grow out of it. i know some aries moon peeps who get physical when they can’t calm down like throwing stuff, kicking around, or yelling and screaming to let out that frustration.

🍥 taurus moon - they’re really laid-back to be around, always giving off a calming vibe. picture doe eyes and soft, prominent cheek, kind of like a bambi. these individuals are typically grounded and don’t easily get irritated, but they know when to assert their boundaries. they prefer doing their own thing and steer clear of drama. however, they can be quite stubborn and once they’re fixated on something, it’s hard to sway them. emotions tend to linger with them for a long time because they manage them steadily and slowly. one thing about them: they despise being rushed. like typical taureans, they take their time with things and enjoy a slower pace. when they feel emotionally unsettled, they seek comfort, even if it’s not always the healthiest option, it helps them escape. they thrive in cozy, gentle environments, feeling most at ease when they’re at home. quite possessive people and can come across as controlling at times, especially with those they like; they tend to be fond of physical touch.

🗣️ gemini moon - they have really expressive eyes that light up when something catches their interest. always cracking jokes and endlessly curious, they’re a blast to be around. a bit scattered sometimes, but they’re great at keeping a conversation going. sharp as a tack, they might seem like a clown sometimes, but they’re actually deep thinkers. they are prone to mood swings; their minds are constantly buzzing with a million thoughts, which also impacts their mood. however, they don’t really express or dwell on these emotions much because their minds are wrapped up in their interests, which can make them come across as emotionally closed off. at other times, they tend to rationalize their emotions rather than genuinely feeling them. these people get extremely bored easily, constantly needing mental stimulation. hence, they have a need to always ask questions, to know everything and understand how things work, in order to keep their minds busy. they could be the type who has trouble sleeping because their minds won’t quiet down, and the same goes for their mouth.

🦀 cancer moon - very emotionally receptive, they can easily read and understand others just as much as they crave understanding for their own feelings. they feel things deeply and take it all to heart, often needing space to process. naturally nurturing, they care very deeply and want it to be acknowledged. they might be the one looking out for their siblings or the ’mom’ figure in their friend circle. when upset, they can be passive-aggressive, but most of the time, they keep their pain to themselves. their heightened sensitivity makes them get hurt more easily than others, which is why they sometimes come off as defensive. these people have a hard time moving on from the past and like to reminisce a lot. they remember every single thing, the good and the bad stuff people did to them, and when they’re not feeling right, they tend to hold onto grudges.

⚜️ leo moon - they are all about expressing themselves creatively, typically through singing and/or dancing. they are incredibly generous and always there for the people they cherish. however, i’ve noticed they can struggle with self-esteem, leading them to seek validation and acceptance. they have fragile egos and are extremely sensitive to criticism, often feeling challenged in their accomplishments or goals, even when that’s not the case. when they feel validated, they bring good vibes, filling up the room with warm, loving, and super enthusiastic energy—that’s just how they give back. they are prone to dramatic displays of emotions, often without realizing it, due to their naturally expressive and fierce nature. i’ve also noticed that they tend to talk a lot about themselves and may unintentionally interrupt or overlap in other people’s conversations. this can make them appear conceited, but they are just really eager to share a lot about themselves.

🔍 virgo moon - they’re super helpful, sometimes a bit too much, and very responsible. it’s like they think no one else is gonna sort stuff out, so they always step up as the “fixer” even when it’s not really their problem. they’re just really big on analyzing everything to get to the bottom of things. they can often seem all critical and constantly nitpicking, but really, it’s their way of helping you improve and showing they care. they notice every tiny detail, and if something’s off, it bugs them big time—total perfectionists. they’re pretty hard on themselves, likely due to early expectations and responsibilities weighing on them. they worry a ton, even about the small stuff, sometimes to an unhealthy level of obsession. they need a lot of alone time to process these thoughts, as they’re highly sensitive to their surroundings, which doesn’t quite help with their anxious tendencies. they can be self-conscious and prefer to keep their emotions in check, often analyzing their surroundings to gauge if it’s safe enough to express how they feel.

🧁 libra moon - these people are easy to hang out with—chill, laid-back, and down-to-earth. they prefer to keep things peaceful, so they can be somewhat passive and struggle to say no because they dislike upsetting people, which heavily impacts how they feel about themselves. confrontations aren’t their thing either, and setting boundaries isn’t their strong suit. they value fairness, detest any kind of injustice, and adhere to their morals. they’re open-minded, always looking at things from different angles, which makes people feel comfortable talking to them about anything. (they are also great listeners). they can be overly concerned about how they appear as they have a strong need to feel ”pretty” and liked. when decisions need to be made, they’re very indecisive and tend to let their friends choose for them. they dislike aggression and are put off by unnecessary meanness, as they themselves keep their less pleasant emotions in control without necessarily suppressing them. most people i’ve met with this have good facial harmony and are pleasing to look at.

🦂 scorpio moon - they might not seem like they’re paying attention, but believe me, they’re tuned in. you’ll be amazed by the random stuff they pick up just from quietly observing things and people. sometimes they don’t even have to actively watch; they just get it with one look, seeing through the facade because they operate similarly, like hiding behind that secretive and mysterious wall that they cling onto. they have zero tolerance for dishonesty, and the ones i’ve met with this are extremely blunt. nothing gets past them; they can sniff out lies or insincerity from a mile away. like all water signs, they’re super sensitive but get triggered easily. oh, and they can hold a grudge forever. they’ll remember what you did to them five years ago and still think you haven’t changed. they might seem chill on the outside, but inside, there’s a whirlwind of intense emotions that can erupt suddenly. they probably struggle with talking about their feelings and, with their secretive nature, you’ll never really know what’s going on with them.

🎃 sagittarius moon - adventurous folks who are always down for a good time, even if it gets them into trouble. they find optimism and humor in everything, so it’s pretty easy to lighten up their mood. they’re strong-willed and passionate about their feelings, not holding back when they speak their mind. sometimes they crack jokes at the wrong time or in a way that might offend—it’s just their impulsive nature. despite that, they’re incredibly cheerful and goofy, always ready to laugh and spread their enthusiastic energy. sometimes they can come off as ’know-it-alls’ without trying to be arrogant; they’re just super into their optimistic wisdom. many of them may have travelled a lot growing up or just liked to wander outside instead of staying indoors—the type who were always out exploring the city. they dislike uptight, dependent people; they need someone who can loosen up and loves freedom as much as they do. being tied down in any way is their worst nightmare, so good luck trying to control them.

💼 capricorn moon - these people can keep their cool even in tough situations. they’re not into big emotional displays and often come off as closed off or shy. it takes them a while to open up because they don’t think it’s necessary. although they are not unemotional; in fact, they care and love very deeply but are more private about it. they probably grew up in a household where showing emotions was restricted, or they had to grow up fast due to responsibilities. they might also have a hard time showing vulnerability and are super protective of themselves. they’re incredibly self-reliant and independent and sometimes feel guilty about asking for help. they give the best advice, but don’t count on it to cheer you up because they’re all about logic and practicality. sometimes, they keep their problems to themselves because they don’t like feeling like a burden to anyone, or they simply feel like no one cares.

🌀 aquarius moon - constantly feeling misunderstood, they feel like people talk more than they know. are humanitarian, but at the same time, they hate people. they are highly observant and can naturally grasp people’s minds and behaviors. they cherish their independence and personal space, which means they don’t do well with clingy people. consequently, they keep most people, including friends, at arm’s length. these people are pretty good at hiding their emotions. they aren’t likely to be very grand in expressing how they feel, which is why they can sometimes come across as detached. at times, they just process their emotions differently. i see them as being more rational and logical in their approach. also, they may find it challenging or uneasy to cope with deep feelings of vulnerability. very super accepting of people because they’ve been there themselves—being the odd one out. intelligent people can sometimes be very stubborn and think they are always right.

🐟 pisces moon - they are very empathetic and compassionate, making them great listeners. however, they often feel emotionally overwhelmed because they easily absorb other people’s pains and problems. sometimes, they struggle to understand and express their own emotions due to their impressionable nature. highly sensitive to their surroundings, they pick up on every subtle detail that others often miss, which can be overwhelming. they also find themselves easily drained in busy environments, constantly absorbing the emotions and energies around them. therefore, they require ample downtime in peaceful, quiet settings to recharge. they can feel like their needs get ignored and that they end up giving way more than they get back. one thing about them, though, is they tend to be very passive to the point where they can easily be taken advantage of, which is something they need to work on to build more assertion. the people i’ve met with this moon were exceptionally talented, whether in art, writing, or any other form of expression.

[lustlovehart]

Monster!Twst is so good

I haven’t seen the entire lore but… I’d love to cuddle with slime Azul, I’d be more interested in studying them than killing them..

Since requests are open, how would the monster boys react to you trying to study them? Like by observing their bodies and behavior, and being sweet to them.

A/n: Just like the monsters list, characters who haven’t had their species revealed yet, will stay vague to avoid spoilers! and Fellow and Skully are here too— There’s also a new rule for requests! Anything above 5 characters will be in headcanon format rather than full fics! This also, ended up being way longer than it needed to be…

Pairing: [Monster!Twst] x Reader ft, Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Jack, Ruggie, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Epel, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Sebek, Silver, Lilia, Rollo, Neige, Fellow, Skully

Warnings: Flirting (That Reader reciprocates w/o knowing), Obssesion, Posseive Traits, Reader is in their personal space, Indirect Kissing, Some are suggestive, mentions of their crimes, a lot of spelling errors, some are cheesy, Mentions of marking

Honestly, It really depends on when you try studying them. If you attempt this on your first meeting rather than later down the line, they’ll assume you’re like every other Monster Hunter who’s come after them. Out of the thousands, at least 500 of them must’ve tried studying their behaviors. Their attempts fail, as all of them don’t take very keenly to being used as guinea pigs to find more out about their species. Anyone who’s tried advancing their understanding, have disapeared without a trace.

However, If you’re you, and do this later in the line after your respective first meeting, it really depends on the monsters them self.

Those who like it/Help you

- Riddle, is actually very keen on helping you pursue your knowledge in the vast world of monsters (Only you though, anyone else ended up becoming a monster themself, or dead.) You should be more educated in this field, and truthfully, Riddle might as well be the reason why you know must of these beasts weaknesses. Though, you do find it a bit interesting he leaves details on ghosts vague. Unbeknownst to you, if anyone else was around, they would no doubt tell you he was doing it to knock out the rest of his competition much easier.

He grows a really bright red when your face is practically inches away from his unattainable physical form, which just makes it more embarrassing for him. For heavens sake, he doesn't even have an actual body for you to come close to, yet his knuckles tremble when your face is practically placed in the crook of his as your fingers ghost over his stitches. You can only feel the cold his figure provides, yet it doesn’t stop him from feeling all the warmth you exude in your fingertips alone.

“You’re very pretty when you glow Riddle.” He’s sure he would’ve died a second death at this moment if it was possible. He shoos away the thought when he sees the pure smile you grace him with. He inhales a deep breath, allowing himself to pretend to hold your hand in his, leaning his upper half forward.

“And… You don’t need to glow to be…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, quickly closing his mouth again when you’re the one who leans closer into him. “Pretty.” He doesn’t even realize the words leave his mouth, his posture straightening immediately.

Your hand leaves his own at his words, the apparition looking up in confusion at your hesitance. “That reminds me of someone…”

… That wretched monster hunter you’ve taken to calling your “one and only”.

You won’t ever notice it, but his hollow hands grip themselves so hard, he digs his nails into his palm. Something that shouldn’t be possible. It seems you cause a rage so deep, Riddles capable of transcending the rules of the after life.

- “Deuce… Please stop moving. It’s hard to do any examining while you’re squirming...” Can you blame him?! It’s really hard to stay calm while you’re practically chest to chest to him!! He can feel the warmth from your still beating heart through your skin transfer to his hollow cavity. If he thinks hard enough, he can imagine the two of you becoming one with each other, falling so deeply in love your hearts combine… Just like his mother told him. (All the more reason for you to not leave!) He understands he agreed to give his body for “education”, but it still doesn’t stop that rapid succession of panic that sets through him. If he still had running blood, he’s sure he’d be just as bright as Riddle…

His thought are further seized when he can feel your fingers intertwine around his, hushed whispers of what’s and unattainable stuttering filling the air. “You can still feel perfectly fine right? Or is it phantom pain…?”

“I… I can still feel you…— It…! I can still feel it…” He’s extremely flustered the whole time you conduct your research on him. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous… But to him, it must be so obvious why he’s freaking out…!

You encase his face in your hands, waiting for his sole eye to connect with yours. He finally stills, the hue of your pupils a comforting color in his eyes, his posture naturally relaxing.

“Calm down Deuce, I’ve barely even done anything!” You… Haven’t…?! But that felt like so much in just a minute. You release him from your grasp, slowly reaching towards the empty cavity in his chest.

His heart is exposed, just like how expressive he is with his emotions. The moment you reach out, he catches your wrist, a bone cracking grasp halting your movements.

“There’s a human here.” Those words don’t need any piecing together, but you don’t even have the chance to stop him before he leaves, a hunger in his movements. It’s… shocking how quick his countenance can go from flustering to… scary.

- Floyd run #1. The moment you mention even the slightest interest in him (his species, not him specifically, but his ears automatically drown that out.), he’s grabbing your ankle and pulling you into the water with him. His slimy tail tightly wraps around you while the sharp bone sticking out acts like armor for your bottom half. Or perhaps a cage. Works as both honestly.

Either way, your dragged to a remote beach, finally unraveled from Floyds limb, only to be pinned underneath his clawed hands on the hot sand.

“What does shrimpy wanna know then “huh~? I’ll let yah feel me up all yah want...“ You don’t know how he makes that one eye he has so intimidating, but he does, a little too well. You can’t really reply before Floyd roughly grasps your wrist, pulling your limb close to his chest and dragging your palm so you feel that cold wet skin of his. Despite how enthusiastic he is with make you touch every part of him, there’s a softness to his rough grasp. Hard enough to have you know every part of him, but soft enough to never truly hurt you. “Shrimpy should let me feel em’ up too.”

You pause, looking up at him from your spot in the sand, a goofy smile paiting his lips, as if he doesn’t eat sailors on a daily basis. That boyish grin is wiped off when he feels you place his clawed, webbed fingers on your chest.

“You’re bein’ real nice. I’ll let yah get a stab at me yeah? After that though you gotta let me eat those two Mackrel and Crabby zombies that follow you around everywhere okay~?“ he leans down from his once propped up position, his palm still laid on your beating heart as he rests his chin on your shoulder, looking up at you with a fondness undeserving on a monster.

“Absouloutely not.“

“Aww, and I thought you liked me more than those two...“ he sounds upset at the loss of a meal, but the way his tail wraps around your legs tell you he feels the exact opposite.

- Jade run #2. He’s just as, if not even more so, enthusiastic at the prospect of you researching me just like Floyd. The way he goes about it however is entirely different. While Floyd will look at you with the fondest of smiles as he practically offers himself up as sacrifice for you, Jade weirdly enough, makes you feel like you’re the one working for this research.

“You wish to know more about serpents? Then, come i’ll allow you to run those humane hands all over. Please be gentle with me.” You think you’re being gentle, slowly reaching your hands out to feel his cool skin, only for him to duck out last moment. You try again and you’re palm is met with only air, a gentleman’s smile plastered on his face.

“Oh? What’s wrong? Do you perhaps not wish to touch me? My my… and I thought you were kind.” The forced sniffles and non-existent tears he wipes from his eye serve as a reminder to who Jade is. His eye widens when he feels soft hands grip his shoulders pinning him to hot gold sand. “It seems, Floyd wasn’t lying when he said you’re fun.” his hand finds itself around your wrist, a gentle cold hold grasps itself on your skin, a shiver going down your spine at the contact. “Will you dissect me? Or perhaps you’ll eat me. If it’s the later, I do hope i’m suitable to your tastes.” at the mention of food he lifts your limb to his mouth, allowing sharp fangs to trace them self over your palm.

“You’re being weird Jade.”

“Is asking to conduct research on a living being not weird as well?” the pressure from his canines increase, at this point you won’t be surprised if blood peeks out. “Humans have an interesting tradition if not.” his words make him pause before releasing his hold on your wrist, his hand quickly flying to your neck to pull you down. “I wonder, have you researched other humans like this too?”

There’s a certain malice in his eyes, only visible if you focus extremely hard.

“No…? Why would I find other humans interesting? I’d rather be here than studying things I already know…”

He’s silent for a moment, which is almost always never a good thing. But the way he smiles with soft slitted eyes at your answer tells you he must be satisfied.

- Kalim is so happy telling you about him! If you think about it, it’s like you’re a couple talking about your day! (It’s really not considering he’s describing all the heinous wishes people have asked him to grant.)

The moment he opens his mouth to describe everything he knows about Genies, he pauses before sagging down into you.

He actually… Doesn’t know very much… Jamil is the one who always keeps record of this stuff, so he doesn’t know very much about himself. But…! He can’t just let Jamil tell you all about him! He’s not trying to be mean but, he wants to be the one who teaches you, not Jamil!

He’s quick to perk up at the first thought that comes to mind. He’ll get you to talk about yourself first! So while you’re telling him about yourself, he can think about Genie facts.

“Do Genies—”

“What’s your favorite food?!” This plan backfires when he completely forgets the “Genie facts” part and is too absorbed in knowing you better. By the time you’re finished and finally resume this interview of yours, he’s quick to remember his lack of answer.

He’ll laugh it off with ease though, just telling you if you wish for it, he’ll grant it. (Please wish for it so then he can answer you…!)

“I’m… good…” He’ll repeatedly ask you if you’re sure, if you don’t want him to grant all your wishes. (He has broken the 3 wish limit multiple times for you. You’re not sure how he does it, but he does.)

“Y’know what, I’ll try asking Jamil okay?” You’re under the impression Kalim will agree to this idea. You’re quickly proven wring when Kalim blocks your path and insists he’ll remember something! Just… Don’t rely on Jamil this time, Kalim wants to be the one you depend on for once.

- Sometimes you have the sneaking suspicion Rook is studying you instead of the other way around... Touches that start out as expermientations turn into lingering grazes from Rook, who can’t seem to let go of your hand. It’s even worse if you’re in a dimly lit area, with the shadows that surround you two practically suffocating. You’re assured that this darkness is Rook’s overwhelming... Affection... At play.

“Amour, it’s okay! Allow me to show you all of me.” His shadowed fingers gently intertwined with your own, his eyes glowing a bright green in the dark of night, quickly shitting them when he begins his monologue “Truly…! To be bare in front of each other is the truest form of beauty…” you get that Rooks certainly eccentric, but you didn’t expect him to be this ecstatic.

Through the window, the light of the moon slightly peaks through the glass, cutting the shade that adorns your body and illuminating your features in a pretty white. “To be a beast you wish to know so intimately… Maqnifique…!—“ he finally opens those glowing eyes of his to gaze at your sitting form, finally noticing the pretty shine the moon gives you.

For once, Rook isn’t talking about beauty. He’s only staring at you in silence, his eyes wide with a hunger. It’s like… he’s gluttonous with the visage of you, greedily consuming the sight into his memory. He finally breaks out of his stupor when he leans down, touching his forehead to your own with a gentleness unbecoming for the shadow monster. You’re left to stare deep into his olive pupils, letting his fingers brush against your cheek.

“My, have you noticed how dirty you are trickster?” When he finishes wiping the soil from your face, he remains still, not moving his forehead away from yours in the slightest.

“Well, I ran through the forest so…”

“Even with grime on you, there’s a beauty held in that sight.” You’re too absorbed in his eyes, in his words, to notice the way tendrils of shadows curl around your waist, a gentle hold gripping you. “I’m sure whatever filth covers you, i’ll never be able to take my eyes off you, never.”

You believe his sweet words, those whispers of adoration serving as a confidence booster for yourself.

But… You can’t help but worry about him always watching you.

- Malleus tilts his head at you. He... Doesn’t get it. Is this a humans courting ritual? Why are you insistent on practically sitting over him for “research“. He won’t lie and say he doesn’t like it, if anything he’ll be a bit too forward with his enjoyment at this development of you on him, yet he still doesn’t know why you need too.

Even though he doesn’t really get it, he’ll still gladly lend you his entirety for you to satiate your curiosity. In return, he’d like to examine you too. Waking up to cold stone leaning over you is certainly a scary sight, glowing moss staring down into your soul as Malleus moves even closer to your once slumbering form.

“Malleus? What are you doing…?”

“You called it research.” You look up at him, a sigh leaving your throat before sitting up, tired eyes piercing through that stone exterior. Your bed creaks at the shift in weight, more drastically than usual considering a being of pure stone, who’s also very tall, is perched on your mattress.

“So, you wanna research me?” He blinks a few times before admitting that he does. He wants to know how intimate this is, surely this studying doesn’t call for the proximity you always commit when studying him, or even the watchful eye you have whenever he’s going about his day. Malleus isn’t a fool, far from it, he’s not naive. He understands the general consensus with finding knowledge, he’s just unsure if the way you do it, is more personal.

In truth, he wants to know if you research the other monsters who are utterly enchanted by you, the same way. If that’s the case… He’s not quite sure if anyone, including you, will be capable of quenching the rage that will sure from his castle. He’s sure the entire world will suffer the wrath he’ll release.

These thoughts disperse when your fingers trace the patterns on his horns with a tenderness he’s not familiar with. All the more reason to be addicted to your touch. He leans into your warmth on instinct, closing his eyes as the stone of his body visibly relaxes despite its solidity. You pause when Malleus opens his eyes again, a firmness in his voice that’s entirely different from the softness he just displayed.

“Do you touch the others like this too?”

“Uhm… I kinda have to if I wanna know more about them—“ A boom of lightning cracks the window to your side, glass shattering all over the space. Your skin is only narrowly avoided due to Malleus’s swift shielding of your body, your skin feeling cold hard stone.

“I see.”

- Lilia practically jumps on you instead of vice versa, letting you examine each part of him up close and personal. Occasionally he’ll chuckle and ask you if you’re enjoying this lesson in anatomy. If you tilt your head at him in confusion, he’ll smile before scooping you into his arms with his incredibly small stature that’s unfit to carry such a load, and jump out a window. For what you reason you don’t know but when you finish screaming he’ll tell you all about the differnt times he’s horrified people to feed off them.

Don’t ask what kind of feed he means though, whether it’s vitality or literal, you won’t ask questions.

Or, if you tell him you are enjoying such a lecture, you commit an act many hunters have attempted to pull on him but failed. You make Lilia stop in his tracks. He’s quick to recover though, asking you if you’d like to go further in your studies, a fiendish smile on his lips as he leans in a hairs width away from you.

You’re quick to walk away and ponder what he meant by further. Like, eating people? Or maybe showing you his other capabilities.

Or... Something else...?

- Skully is so enthusiatic when you bring up any hint towards studying him. For a moment, he malfunctions, blinking his eight bright orange eyes in your direction before scooping you up and placing kisses all over you, be it on your hand or on your face. In some instances, he’s only an inch away from truly kissing you on your lips. He caims he wants to save that for a speacial occasion later. What that is, you don’t wanna know.

He’ll quickly place your hands on different parts of his body, a fang filled smile gushing about his different qualities. See this? That’s how he sticks to walls! And this!? That’s how he climbs when he doesn’t feel like using his human legs! Oh oh! This is how he eats!!!

Sometimes he even has you examine parts of him that you share in common. The way he shows you though is different, more tender in a sense. He’ll delicately grab your hand and reach it towards his chest, shedding articles of cover to let your palm touch skin to skin to his beating heart.

“That’s how I live.“ you already knew that, you have one too- “With you though, I don’t need it as much.“ you’re starting to question where it is exactly this spider gets all his confidence... Little do you know when you leave he wraps himself in a cacoon while freaking out about how he just said that to you.

Unlike the others on this list though, he won’t provide you information on any other species. You’re nothing like them, not at all…. So why would you ever want to know more about them? Before you know it, thick webs trap your surroundings, Skully’s honey hands grasping your own as boney skeleton legs cage you in between him and a tree trunk.

You just need to know about him… It’s okay, you’re nothing like those other humans… You actually like him! So…

Let him love you.

- Fellow is an interesting case… He toes the line between wanting to help you and being neutral. He serandes you with promises of knowledge, in turn you must accompany him on his stage. Yet, the moment you agree to join him, he’ll quickly dress you in lace fit for a doll, forgetting his promise and only twirling you around like the star he claims you to be.

“Fellow I thought you said—” you can’t finish your thought before he hurriedly spins you, your body dropping into his arms as his hand strengthens its grip on your waist.

“Yes yes, I remember my promise don’t worry! I could never lie to a sparkling hunter like you.” it’s unclear if the sparkling is referring to your personality or the pretty clothes he's dressed you in. But… It’s obvious he has no intention of letting you go so soon. With a newfound determination in your mind, he continues prancing around with you inside the circle of his theater, your hand flying to his chest, your first question of research ready to be answered.

Is this marionette hollow? Or does he have a heart?

“My my,” you squeak when he spins you away, your hand off him just as soon as it was on him. His style of dancing is very different from the way everyone else waltzes with you. It’s fast paced yet still holds a regal of elegance. “You’re touchy today. I’m afraid our agreement will be fulfilled when we’re done dear hunter! Don’t fret, I only tell the truth.” He definitely doesn’t, but you don’t retort, You’re still set on fulfilling your goal, allowing him to twirl and speak to you with a countenance of a showman, rather than the puppet one plays with. The soft sound of a music box echoing through the walls is unsettling, yet calming at the same time, it’s a weird affect.

“So tell me, who was that human talking to you?” … human? What is he…? Your mind clicks together the pieces in a flash.

“He was just trying to buy me a drink is all.” he smiles, but the cracks in his mouth distract you from his true demeanor. That of bitterness.

“Is that so? It’s fortunate I stole you away from him then! I hear such drinks are harmful to your kind. Unless, you wanted him to indulge you.” the music box slowly nears its end, the final note having Fellow slowly dip you down with a delicacy entirely separate from the rest of the dance.

“I mean, a drink would’ve been…” your words grow softer at the sight of a dark silhouette hanging from the ceiling, the clear strings swaying him side from side. He’s been propped up in a way akin to a chandelier, but rather than beauty, it’s filled with a grotesquely brutal decorum “Fellow… what did you…” You’re practically swung up into solid arms, Fellow effortlessly carrying you across the stage. Your questions fall on synthetic ears as he carries you behind the curtain, placing you down on his fancy velvet couch.

“You’ve visited my refuge, it’s only right now I live to my promise and let you know me down to my true core.” he bows down with the confidence of a director. But...

You’re not so sure you want to know anything about this marionette anymore…

Those who are Neutral/Don’t help you but don’t stop you either

- “Why would you wanna learn about us? What, you wanna marry a zombie— Ow…! Okay it doesn’t hurt but ow!” Ace is insufferable with his teasing. Even if you showcase your desire to learn about them as entirely work related, he continues to say you just have a thing for monsters. It’s not as if he seizes you from studying him, he lets your eyes wander and even your hands, but that persona of his never fails to kick in…

“You’re practically kissing me at this point, might as well do it—” if you put your index over his mouth to shush him, and then let your thumb trace over his bottom lip… the remark he initially held is stuck in his throat as he watches you with bated breath, waiting. Waiting for what? He doesn’t even know. But, he’s for sure waiting for you to do something. The only action he takes is his eyes shifting over every part of your closed up face, as if he’s attempting to engrave each detail into a non-existent brain.

“You have a pretty face, Ace. To bad you don’t have a brain…” The next day, he’s a lot more docile than previously, even staying extremely still when you go over examinations. Doesn’t even tease you when you watch him limply walk. “You’re a lot quieter than yesterday.”

“Someone said I had a pretty face. I’m just showing it off like they asked,” he pauses before slightly rotating his body to face you but still stay positioned forward, “I give you my pretty face, and you let me watch yours.” Now it’s your turn to wait in embarrassment.

He goes back to the hospital and kicks his legs while burying his head in an old detoriated pillow

- Trey isn’t going out of his way to help you at all, but he’ll smile that kind yet put together (secretly conniving) smile while he leans back an allows you to trace your hands all around his limbs. He won’t tell anyone, but he feels a sense of pride swell inside of him when you gawk over how built he is. They have to rely on him for all the heavy lifting, considering he’s essentially a giant and the only one who can carry anything. ( half of the group phases through everything and the other half have limbs constantly falling off of them.)

“You can still build muscle? Huh… that’s interesting…” Trey’s really happy he locked the door, it’d certainly be an uproar if anyone saw you squeezing the muscle on his bicep. He just hopes Riddle and Cater decide to knock before phasing through the door…

Though, he can’t deny the secret desire of someone seeing you two so close and private. He was human(?) at some point too. The tradition of public affection still lingers in his newfound boy, it makes sense he’d want someone to see you two.

Your hand barely brushes against sewed skin before he flinches, your head quickly turning up to question him before jumping back at the feeling of his hand pulling you in. Your body is pushed against his, before the pressure of his arms gradually releases a gentle expression on his face.

“Sorry, there was a bug.” was there really…? You have a sneaking suspicion not to believe him, but out of the five monsters that live in Heartslaybul he’s essentially the only collected mind to trust. You don’t inquire any further, only continuing to attach and reattach his body while experimentally shocking him occasionally.

Unknown to you, but entirely acknowledged by Trey, a flustered, open-mouthed Deuce stands outside the window at such a display of intamicy. Trey hopes you don’t leave anytime soon, who else will fawn over him with such intensity? When his hands tighten around your own, you assume it to be a reflex. It’s not.

- Before you even have to the chance to close in on Leona, he’s already catching your wrist and pulling your face to his, mere inches spacing between you and the mummy. The glare he gives you is practically death inducing, your youthfulness being sapped from your skin the longer you lean into him. You’re sucked out of your trance when the feeling of a pair of fingers presses into your lips, a feint taste of… pomegranate? Invading your taste buds. The flavor reminds you of death.

“Huh, it worked.” you only quirk your eyebrow up at him, his head leaning back as guttural laugh sounds through the dusty air. “You were wondering what mummies taste like right?” No way… He did it?! You only joked about a kiss being a good way of testing that theory! You don’t have the chance to retort when the feeling of rough bandages slowly curl their way around your limb, pulling you even closer than you already were. “Well? Are you gonna investigate further or is that all the info you need for a mummy?”

He must underestimate your curiosity, as even he’s taken aback when your hand pushes him further into his throne, your eyes scrutinizing each detail on his body as your legs are propped up on each side of him. Truth be told, you’re a little scared Ruggies gonna walk in and see the scene in front of him, but you push all worries aside when the prospect of research rears its head.

“You’re right. I think the king should allow me to see his importance up close.” You don’t notice it, and you never will from the numerous wraps that preserve his body. But, the single organ that was left inside him, skips a beat at your words. He’s important to you, even if it’s just for research. You’re blinded with interest at examining him, the effect your words have on him completely go over your head, so much so you don’t even notice the way his hands grip tightly onto your waist, each ribbon of cloth increasing their grasp too.

It’s a definite fact, this monster hunter will never leave his palace. Not because you’re dead, but simply because he must keep you here. He’ll make sure you’ll want to stay.

After this occurrence, it’s a rinse and repeat where Leona lets you do your thing before embarrassing you and then pretending nothing happened the next day.

- Ruggie tells you he’ll strap himelf to an examination table and let your hands run wild if you offer him something in return. You never accept, only consider. If you were to give him something… what would you give him…? Next time you meet him and ask, he laughs at you, “i can’t believe you actually believed that…!” You were on the verge of striking him with your fist, yet you don’t. He’s wiping tears from his eyes before gazing at your hand, a cloth sack dangling from your grasp. He grins at the sight, taking a step forward.

“I would’ve done it for free. Really rare deal, just for you shishi~”

“Well don’t, because that would mean I got this for nothing…” you lift the bag up to his face, the werehyena quirking his eyebrow before clawed hands swiftly grab the sack, opening the contents on the floor.

It’s food.

He stares wordlessly at the meal below him, only looking up at you after a few moments. You’re ready to watch him scarf down each individual dish like it’s breathing but he doesn’t. His hands slowly lift up, splitting the food in the middle, patting the spot next to him with a sharp teethed smile.

Silently, you sit next to him, watching him diligently consume the food. Except…

With each bite, you notice the pieces of red in-between his canines, and… two newly found wedding rings on his index.

Did he… already eat before this…? And if he did, you have a sneaking suspicion you know his victims…

Your thoughts are dispersed when then feeling of scarlet fruit is placed on your lips, an expecting Ruggie hinting you to eat.

You… don’t feel like eating anything red right now…

- Vil is already used to having humans gawk at him, whether from lust, a twisted version of lust they believe to be love, or pure rage. So, he just assumes his charm has already started to worm it’s filthy way into your heart when you stare at him and examine his skin more often. A shame really, you’re like the rest of his food now… But, he could use it to his favor, maybe he should just bed you already and hope you fall in love with him like the rest of them—

“Vil, do incubus eat things that aren’t just… bed stuff…?” He should laugh really, at the way you describe his way of feeding to be bed stuff. “I wanna know.” Now he’s letting it out. Truly, it’s adorable how different your countenance is compared to when you’re attempting to slay him.

“If I said no? What if I told you i’m positively starving right now? Would you let me feed off you?” before you know it, he’s towering above where you’re sat, his fingers caging you’re chin to make you look up at him, gentle flaps of his wings cooling your gradually heating exterior. His tail slowly crawling it’s way up your torso. He’s honestly expecting you to back out, either cowering in embarrassment, or even cursing him with a thousand Die in hell! Who knew you could be so bold outside of your job too… Just the thing that made him interested in you as a living being rather than sustenance.

Your fingers snake around his own, carefully placating them to lay on your thigh, causing the all famed incubus, Vil Schoenheit, who's sucked thousands dry of their vitality, kneel on his knee in front of you, diligently awaiting your next words. His slit eyes don’t even blink, the only sign of wavering patience being the tail he has continuously trace patterns into your collar.

“If doing that helps me see behind the act of an Incubus, I might as well offer myself as your dinner.” Bold, how very bold. Vil should find you a job in acting in the underworld, he’s sure you would do splendidly. Though, the more he thinks about it, he’d prefer that confidence of yours to only be for his eyes and not the entirety of hell.

The next day, he sits still in his chair as you let your fingers trace over him in the name of investigation! He doesn’t help you, making you do all the work to uncover the truth about his species, but, he won’t ever stop you either. Just like how he won’t ever stop or help you when you attempt to leave his dear manor.

- Epel has a really big desire to show off, bragging about his capabilities despite only being a vampire for a short time. But, he also wants to be cool for you. What’s the point in bragging about his talents when he comes off as desperate? That’s no good, he needs to come off as cool and powerful…! He doesn’t wanna make the comparison, but it’s the only thing he can think of.

He wants to act like Vil. He doesn’t wanna be him but… You always seem to be around him whenever possible, and when he’s not available you’re with Rook…! He really just can’t win can he…

So, he hides his secret desire, acting with nonchalance when you finally ask the question of investigating him.

For once though, he does feel victorious when your fingers prance around his fingers, thoroughly feeling the edge with a wonder. When you tell him about Jamils similarity though, he’s back to feeling defeated… So he isn’t unique in your eyes?

After your initial studying session, he’s left wandering the night for his next meal, a deep rooted disappointment flooding (still) veins. At this point, he’ll pounce on whatever moves first. So, he does, the sound of rustling leaves making him take a single step with pure speed, pinning the human to a tree trunk, readying his fangs to dive into their neck.

But there’s a smell. A smell so familiar, so sweet. So… You.

“Epel…?” He looks up at you with eyes blown so wide they could pop out. His grip on you is practically trembling with hunger, he needs food now. Despite his obvious starvation, he slowly leans away from your jugular, ready to escape. He’s only stopped at the feeling of your hand placing itself behind his head, pulling him back into your side. He looks up with an expression of worry, attempting to silently word an “are you sure?”, your reply being a small nod.

His fangs peak out before diving in, his former meek attitude disappearing as he greedily consumes you.

If this is how he feeds… Then you’re happy your plan worked. If it had been anyone else, he surely would’ve killed them, draining them completely dry.

You wave your free hand, quietly shooing away the innocent civilian from the scene.

- Silver is actually entirely willing to let you experiment your whims on him. If it makes you happy, why wouldn’t he want to? Whenever you’re happy he’s happy too. It’s just… He’s asleep to frequently to actually tell you he’s okay with it.

“Silver! Silver…? Oh, you’re asleep again…” you lay down on the grass, meeting him face to face on the floor. You don’t realize it, but before you know it your bodies only a few inches away from his, practically nudged to his. If Sebek saw, you’re sure he would call you two heinous for allowing human and monster interrelationships...

You can’t help when your hand instinctively reaches up, brushing ivory hair away from his face while your fingers trace down the colored glittering skin on the edges of his face. Whenever he’s awake, he always tells you he’s okay to submit his body to you, yet whenever you try he’s always slumbering.

A shiver goes down your spine before your eyes grow heavy. Seems you actually did discover something new about him, touching that hued skin of his grows weariness. You don’t have any time to celebrate your founding before you pass out next to him, soft snores leaving you as your arm is draped over his neck, practically sleeping with him like a couple.

When you come to, you feel the soft skin of a shoulder on your cheek, looking up at the rarest event possible.

You and Silver being awake at the same time.

“Allow me, to be your experiment.”

“I feel like I should be asking you that instead Silver…”

Those who hate it (but are secretly neutral/like it)

- Cater is even sure what he is. He understands he’s a ghost, but there’s something else to it. So, don’t gaze at such a horrifying face with all that curiosity, a curiosity he’s never held for himself despite not knowing his own species either. For a moment, his face scrunches at the request before returning to his usually facade.

“Hah…! You should be careful! What if I said yes and ate you whole! Cay-Cay’s gonna say no, kay?” and he leaves it at that.

He’s the same makeup as Riddle, so… What does it matter? You don’t need him to look into. Besides, it might be for the best. Nobody especially you, should ever gaze at him in his entirety.

If you did… Would you think he was boring? Would you think he wasn’t happy?

Is he happy?

He’s been dead for so long, dying in the same time frame with Riddle and Trey. Yet, he still can’t get over the grief he feels at this. He lost the entirety of his life from that… that…!

He jumps back at the sight of your hand on his face. His face… If you knew you’d hate him. You can’t feel his face, and he can only narrowly feel your palm, but you can see him visibly melt into your “touch”.

He’s not sure what he looked like to you, but the furrow in your brows tell him part of those thoughts came to light. Or maybe you miracoulousyly found out the truth about his face.

He takes a breath, before floating to your side. “Didn’t know you were so determined to look into me! Maybe this is your way of flirting.”

“I wasn’t trying to do that…!” your fluster makes him laugh, resting his arm over your shoulder.

So you don’t know about his face. Good.

- Jack has known you for so long, so… He doesn’t want you to see the version of himself he’s hid from you all this time, that would completely ruin all the time he spent curating his human persona. Plus, would you even allow him to protect you anymore if you truly knew him…?

If you know more about what he is, it wouldn’t be the best thing, but not the worst. The worst would be you refusing him and his safeguard from fear of his true strength. What would be the point of everything he did if you just ended up getting hurt? He knows you’re not entirely weak. If you were, there’s no way you would be in the profession you are.

But you’re still human. You’re still the same human who he’s seen with bruises and cuts all over. You’re the same human who's broken bones before just for a job.

You’re the same human who would smile at him despite all these injuries, laughing at him and Rollo for their worries.

“Jack, please, let me know you.”

He stares at you, the same rock hard expression planted on his face.

“… Okay.”

- No…! Don’t look at him so intently…! With all that… adoration…? You’ve yet to tell Azul just how pretty you think he is, especially at night when certain lights reflect off him in such a pretty way. It’s like stars are shining inside of him. Is he a vicious monster whos lead thousands of sailors to their death in his stomach? Yes. Does that stop him from being a curiosity you must satiate? No, unfortunately.

He’s always taken to the form of a Human when possible, so it’s rare to see him in his truest form. Since he can’t eat while he’s a human, the best bet you have of truly studying him is when it’s time for him to eat. He’ll be caught by surprise when there’s a wall of rocks blocking his exit to the sea, emerging from the water in confusion before doubling back in shock when he can feel your hands grasp the gross slimy texture of his body.

“Wait…! Don’t I’m…!” he’s on the verge of saying pathetic before a shell he gifted you is placed on his mouth.

“Pretty.” you whisper with a certain tenderness. In his panic, he fails to see the different bioluminescent coral that glow through his body, only narrowly being blocked by his three hearts. He’s erratic, you shouldn't see him… He’s not in the picture-esque form he’s decided to wed you in! (When he made that choice, no one knows.) Yet, the way you admiringly lead him back to the ledge of the pool as you trace over his body makes him slowly calm down.

It’s… nice. It’s nice how enamored you are with him, he feels wanted. Not like those filthy sea parasites who sail their wooden boats and attempt to pierce him with spears and arrows. He’s on the verge of even sleeping in your arms from the sheer comfort before the dulls sensation of lips are softly pecked where his hearts are located. The action makes him quickly perk up from the attempted slumber.

“Sorry, I was curious on if you would change colors if I did that… But, well you did!” You’re… not wrong. He can see the way his color shifts from purple to pink. Luckily, you seem to enamored by his current camouflage malfunction to notice the way all three of his hearts beat quickly and in rapid succession. “See? you’re handsome Azul.” The way you smile at him, your hair soaked while your clothes are heavy with water, is just too much… His placates his viscous hand on your hand, strings of slime dripping from your head as he slowly hugs you towards his body, the armor shield her wear the only thing stopping you from essentially becoming one with him.

While he allows his arms to swallow you, the only thoughts that seem to run in his head are, about how much he can’t bear to let you go, if you leave this cove he’ll surely be gulped whole in despair, so, he won’t allow it.

- Jamil is his typical self when you ask him, not saying any words or even hissing any sounds, just a look that communicates “Why would you even wanna do that?“. But it’s bone chilling enough for you to semi-give up on inquiring any further. You don’t ask, and you don’t secretly research him, but, you do spend a fair amount of effort showing him your interest.

He won’t admit it, but he actually wanted to say yes at your first request. Why wouldn’t he want you to fawn over him? Having you spend time with him, having you research him in close proximity, having you actually care about his existence. But he still has a sense of pride, he’s not gonna so easily admit he’d like to be treated…

“Jamil, I was thinking, Kalim would be up for me to ask him questions right? He seems like he would.”

…

Jamils bottom half slithers to your side, effortlessly picking you up and hoisting you over his shoulder. You don’t have the chance to ask him what he’s doing before you feel your behind gently sat on a table. Jamil leans down, his hair acting like a makeshift curtain while he looks at you.

“What do you wanna know first?” His forked tongue peaks out between his fangs, slit eyes looking down at you with expectancy.

“You want me to…?”

“I do.” The way he quickly replied gives you your confirmation, your hands flying up grasp his face in your palms, feeling the scales on his skin with urgency. The pretty color immediately attracts you, your finger moving across to drag your skin over it. Except, you accidentally make contact with the sharp poisonous fangs placed in his mouth, your attention immediately caught.

He doesn’t need a sign to know what you want, gaping his lips open for you to see. Your eyes are practically star shaped with all your attention on him, it feels great. He inhales, patiently allowing you to do whatever you wish.

His gaze trails down at your arm. Maybe it’s time to renew the mark underneath that sleeve. Except this time, you’ll know he left it.

- Idia doesn’t have much to offer (Or so he thinks). He’s basically just a person…! Who guides souls to the afterlife but that’s all…! Yet, the way you so eagerly watch him swing his scythe makes him secretly wish he did have more to show you. If he was more interesting surely you wouldn’t become bored with him. It’s not fair really, why did all those other beasts get cool appearances and abilities… Their personalities aren’t all that great… They all just have looks…! And like, crazy powers… and confidence.

“Idia…? Why are you curled into a ball?” You carefully tuck a strand of his flamed hair behind his ear, trying to get a clear view of his face. Your try is disturbed when Idia shakes his head and allows his hair to fall into place, not daring to move his head from your body. Everyone else can have their cool personas, this… this is all his.

“Can you… hunt all of them down faster…” his words are barely audible, a low whisper that’s drowned out with silence. He avoids all eye contact with you, only allowing his head on your thighs to be your sole connection.

“You… want more people to guide?”

… Yeah never mind. He quickly shuts that thought down. The idea of being stuck with all of those heinous extroverts and having to lead them to their after life… It sounds absolutely horrible. He can see it now, all their dismissive looks when they realize it’s him who’s showing them the way, he’s sure they would scoff at him.

Then he finally remembers something. He can simply… Leave them to wonder purgatory, for eternity.

He’s done it before. Whenever a mortal got on his nerves, he leaves them stranded and left on their own, only their consciousness as their only friend. Time flows differently for such people, so when he comes back, they’re trembling from insanity. Years of isolation, especially after just dying, makes anyone break. It’s perfect.

“Yeah, I… I do want more people to guide.” He sits up, looking you straight in the eyes with a confidence you’ve never seen on him. “And… You can study me… As much as you want.”

- “Human! I will not be subjected to your inhumane tactics of investigation!” It’s ironic coming from Sebek, considering there are several bones and bodies beneath his swamp that were surely not killed humanely by his hand.

You put your hand up, not even attempting to touch him, just calming him down, and he swats it away with a speed that’s completely unnecessary. “I must maintain a peak if I am to remain my lieges retainer!”

“Than wouldn’t it make sense to check you? To see if you’re in fit shape to serve him.” he squints his eyes at you, visibly mulling over the question. On one hand, it’s improper to engage an intimacy so close to a weak human, on the other… There’s a part of him that has the desire to spend a little time with you. After all, you spend a lot of your time with the others, as they can be on land with you as much as they want, which is utterly scandalous…

But, he can only spend a few hours with you before having to return to his marsh.

He’s silent, straight lipped as he looks down at you.

“… No.” you hunch over, completely expecting him to decline, you didn’t think he’d give you such a serious face. For a moment, you actually thought he was gonna accept…! “Being so close to a mortal in that vicinity is practically treason.”

You get it… Why is he still hammering the point in?

He leans down, an all too tall frame casting a shadow over you. Yet his pupils do anything to not look you in the eye at the proximity, even though it was him who enacted the space. “… I don’t need your time.” the way he says it makes you think he’s talking to himself rather than you. Is he? You serve him a smile. He might not be looking at you, but you’re sure it at least reaches his peripherals.

“Okay, Then I won’t use it on you.” That came off stronger than intended, but you don’t try to save your words, only walking away with a wave.

The next day Sebek says he hurt his shoulder and must get it tended to…. What do you mean you don’t need all this information on his species? Of course you do! What if you mess up his structure in your attempt to navigate a foreign being!

Those who genuinely hate it

- Rollo could never hate you… No of course not. But there’s a deep, festering, wretched part of him that wishes your curiosity would just be satiated and you wouldn’t have to look upon such a hideous form…! Monstrous, ugly, so sinful… so…unhuman…! It’s not even because of the actually form itself, rather, how pitiful it feels to know he’s not even the same species of you. It makes him feel so unworthy of your affections, he doesn’t deserve the purity you provide for him, yet, he can’t help but consume each drop of joy you spare him with the utmost of greed and gluttony. It’s like, he’s been starved for hundreds of years before meeting you.

Which… In retrospect… isn’t that far off from his truth…

“Rollo, it’s okay, I just wanna see you up close.” … Please don’t talk to him in such an innocent tone. He was already unable to handle your hope while parading as a human, you really think he can control himself in his truest form?

- Neige feels bad turning down your requests of investigating him. No, really! If he could he would allow you to run your hands through his fingers all you want! Even letting you follow him around as he preforms his angelic deeds. He just… he can’t let you see... He can’t let you see the black feathers that adorn his back.

Because if you did… You would know… You would know just how deep his care for you goes. Which isn't a bad thing! He wants you to know how much he loves you, you just can’t know the more aggressive sides of that love…

[heartsteel-heartbeats]

Heartsteel Kayn relationship HCs!

No warnings for this one, you may proceed.

(( Psst! Hey! It’s not explicitly listed that you are also a performer, but you are free to assume that! I like leaving stuff open for ya. Also I may have gone a bit overboard… Sorry! )) ~ OBBY 💗

Before Heartsteel

You’ve been with him before he was kicked out of his old band (maybe even well before he started his music career), so of course, Rhaast was no secret to you. He never was, really. You actually liked Rhaast and loved seeing him just go crazy and do what he wanted without much of a care of the consequences. Kayn figured this is why he was initially drawn to you, because you accepted this part of him.

His band was pretty much the opposite. They held him back extensively because of Rhaast. The situation itself and seeing him lash out time to time made you worried on how much more he could stand being with that group. Some days, you just let him rant to you. You don’t know much on the other members in general besides their names and their roles in the band, but seeing him so frustrated because of them felt like maybe it’s best if you didn’t.

When Kayn did get kicked out, you let him stay around for a bit. A bit eventually became a while. Totally weren’t preparing for this, you made sure there was plenty of room for him. An artist needs his own space after all, though he didn’t exactly pick up his guitar for some time.

It’s been rough for Kayn for a while. He was getting easily irritated over the smallest things and seemed to often get into fights online. You’ve had to keep him off social media more than once before he really made things worse for himself. His reputation has taken quite a hit when he was kicked out, so this was for the best if it means he doesn’t damage further by doing something stupid.

Rhaast, on the other hand, was a bit harder. Rhaast liked to leave a mark, mostly in a physical sense. There were times where you had to stop him from actually getting into serious trouble. It was hard to talk him out of it and sometimes you had to keep him from walking out that door. Doing such a thing did make you feel bad since you’re holding him back almost like his old band did with him, so there were times where you hesitated. Don’t get him wrong though, he knows you’re just worried about his wellbeing.

When he finally did pick up his guitar again, the songs he made were quite clearly targeted towards his old band. Rhaast was going all out and you encouraged that. Of course, these songs never went public for obvious reasons (though Rhaast almost argued with you to upload them somewhere). Hearing songs like these from him were really the one and only times where you can hear just how truly angry he was. Still, you were glad he was letting it out in a way that felt natural to him. Artists letting out their frustrations through songs weren’t uncommon, and most of the ones out there needed to have their listeners read between the lines to understand and see the artist. But you? You didn’t have to. It was all right there in front of you.

Approaching Kayn on the topic itself is rather difficult as he tends to get defensive and dismissive over it, so really, the best you could do was get his mind off of it for a little while. Anything works as long as he was doing something, anything. It didn’t matter what it was.

It’d take quite some time for him to actually come to you for comfort on the matter. When he does though, it was a huge weight off of both of your shoulders. It basically just happened one night, and it was one of those nights for him where his thoughts were keeping him awake. He can’t sleep, you can’t sleep either, so you two just kind of talked for a bit to tire each other out. Eventually, the topic shifts and you can feel his hold on you tighten ever so slightly.

Kayn almost never showed a vulnerable side of him, especially around you. He had his own reasons for that. On the rare occasion that he does, know that it means he trusts you more than anything.

He is happy that you stayed and helped him as long as you did (both being his muse and just supporting him). He makes you aware of it during that night and he does continue to show his appreciation in his own way, whether it’s simply some quality time or even writing a song for you.

Things did eventually calm down and Kayn was beginning to just enjoy doing what he wanted to do again just for the fun of it rather than out of spite. As long as he’s happier now. There’s nothing else to say about his old band.

General stuff between you two

Teasing. So much teasing… He loves your flustered and/or slightly annoyed look when he does it. He finds it adorable.

Kayn can drive but for the love of god never actually let him drive. The chances of getting pulled over and arrested for reckless driving is really high up there. Just let him be in charge of the music, he’ll at least he satisfied with that.

You two still text each other on Discord even if you’re in the same room. He just likes hearing you laugh over what he sends. This does include videos he finds online that he thinks (knows) you’ll laugh to.

Matching hair color! It’s fun, a pain in the ass to get done, but fun. There was a bit of a mess in the bathroom though, and that wasn’t fun to clean.

“Hah! It looks like a murder took place in here!” “I murdered your hair, that’s for sure.” “What?! Are you kidding me? This isn’t the first time you did my hair! It’s perfect!” “Well yeah, but your long hair is gone… I really loved your long hair…” “I mean- It’ll grow back eventually.”

Lunch and dinner sometimes include ordering some food and having it delivered, then eating it in your shared room. Is it healthy food? No, but hey, at least you’re both eating food. If it wasn’t that, then one of you was cooking. Kayn’s cooking is not that bad, but it could be better. Don’t say that though.

Doing each other’s makeup. Although, it started with you wanting to do his and him saying he’ll let you do it if you let him do yours. Now it’s routine.

Playing with his hair. Loves it when you do it. Just him laying his head beside you, or on your chest, with your hands running through his hair. It calms him down and makes him sleepy sometimes. He’ll deny it though.

“Sleepy?” “No.” *literally about to fall asleep* “Sureee.” “Shut up.”

Though there are some nights where one of you can’t fall asleep no matter what you do. Whether it’s insomnia or the other just won’t shut the fuck up (Kayn), at least one of you is still awake. If you feel someone brushing your hair in the middle of the night and giving small pecks, it’s totally not Kayn.

Heartsteel

When Heartsteel found one of his songs and sent him a message, you were okay with him eventually moving in with the group. Kayn has been talking about them for some time, and you think this might be good for him. From what he’s been telling you, these people accept Rhaast. Totally not the one reason why you were okay with it in the first place.

He often texts you about what’s going on and teases you by asking if you miss him. Say no. :) Sometimes complains to you about Yone, but it’s just him being assigned a chore (dish duty).

It does get a bit lonely sometimes now, but he’s happy to be around a group of people that doesn’t push Rhaast away so it doesn’t bother you. Kayn does make up for it by calling you and sometimes dropping by. The second one isn’t often though. Again, gotta keep fans and paparazzi from finding out about your relationship. Although speaking of calls, there were times where you two fell asleep while on call. It usually ends with one of your phones running out of battery.

The group seems to know about you. Yone and Sett has heard of you once or twice, but K’Sante is the one that knows about you the most. According to K’Sante, Kayn talks about you a lot. Ezreal only knows about you cause he got a peak at his phone and saw your name thanks to one of your over night phone calls and he won’t stop asking Kayn about you.

“Dude who’s [name]??? Is that who you’re always talking to all night?” “The hell are you looking in my phone for??!”

Ahem… Kayn did get some relationship advice from K’Sante. Honestly this is exactly why he knows a lot about you from him.

Aphelios only knows about you because of Sett, who then tells Alune.

Kayn tried to keep the music video of Paranoia on the down low so it could surprise you, but he needed to tell you about the dog the moment they picked him up. With that aside, seeing the music video definitely put a smile on your face. He looked like he was having a lot of fun with the new band (you totally saw the Discord calls Aphelios leaked).

[jeongharine]

syntax ERROR: the right formula

⚝ wonwoo x reader

⚝ comedy, smut

⚝ notes: you and wonwoo decide to take the thing between you on level two. but no one has to know about it. you would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with the local nerdy fuckboy. it is an ego thing. (part i)

(thanks to everyone who read and liked part one, i’ve never received such an amount of likes for something that i posted <3 i hope you will like this part as well, it is a bit longer but i had a little fun in writing some teasing ooof enjoy it, have a good early summer period and stay safe x)

“can you actually believe that, y/n? he ghosted me for i don’t know three weeks, and then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic,” nabi sighs, taking a sip from her blue-ish drink.

“you know what? i’m so done with men. all of them. we really ar- are you even listening to me?” 

you are caught off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. truth is, you are only half present, the other half of you is scanning the whole floor, trying to see if there’s a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies. 

“yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologize, leaning your side against the wall. “i was somewhere else for a second. you were saying that he ghosted you?”

“i’m never talking to him again. or any man.” “hm,” you hum, crossing your arms. you actaully don’t know who she is trying to convince at this point, because that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). 

“really, i don’t know why those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. they’re a hazard, including your brother from what i’ve heard. sorry. but yeah, they’re a threat to public health,”

you shrug, because honestly you don’t care that much about their business. and that is important to keep it low.

“could be worse, though, i could be one of the poor girls getting fucked by one of them in their spare time,” 

oh. 

you giggle, a little nervous. “yeah, yeah,” you agree, looking back at the mass of students. “yeah, that’d be totally awful.” 

“i couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with one of them, and somehow proceeded in becoming completely whipped and infatuated, only to be told that they don’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. like… what the fuck is that? who do they think they are? sorry that your brother is involved in this discourse, but he’s kind of a prick,”  

you laugh, noticing the tinge of red that covers her cheeks. “you sound really drunk,” 

“i’m not bullshitting you. they’re pricks and that’s on period,” 

she raises her cup in a silent cheer, and took another sip. “i know you’re not involved in the fuckboy thing that plagues this campus and, honestly, you’re better off that way. but trust me when i say that they aren’t worth the headache,” 

with an inattentive nod, you take another peek at the strangers filling the space near you. “i believe you, don’t worry. i know my thing or two,” 

the worst part? you do. 

and the even worse bit? there are two things wrong with what she has just told you. 

number one: yes, they could be kind of jerks sometimes. but they aren’t completely soulless, at least some of them. they are fun to be around, actually, when picked alone and not in group, or when they are not trying to impress someone into sleeping with them.

number two: they fuck the same person twice, if feeling like it. at least wonwoo. and you know that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so. 

when you first met him, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship. you just needed a math tutor. but long story short, you didn’t expect to fall victim to his charms, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you can hold it. and you surely didn’t expect to like it as much as you do. 

truth is: jeon wonwoo is everything, but he isn’t dumb. he knows that he is attractive and smart as hell - he knows that with his voice so silky and deep just saying the right words is enough to have you in bed with him, and he knows how to use the two things very well. 

apart from also corrupting you in games hours.

also, you are human, alright? and there is something extremely tempting about sleeping with your brother best friend, especially when he keeps coming back to you. it’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while. 

again: it is an ego thing. 

plus no one ever caught you. not nabi or any of your other friends. as far as you are aware, wonwoo’s group doesn’t know a thing either, which makes you appreciate him even more because you don’t know how hoshi could take this.  

so yeah, he isn’t a total douchebag. he has the most basic sense of loyalty. 

x

with a sigh, you push your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. you are praying that- oh there he fucking is. 

the moment that you see wonwoo, sitting on the couch across from you, you forget how to breathe for a moment. 

he looks better than you had anticipated: dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. his dark long hair is parted in the middle, with a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, as his gaze navigates around the room, staring at nothing in particular.

next to him, there is another one of his friends, seokmin, talking about something animatedly but wonwoo is paying no attention. 

his expression is one of irritation, you notice, with his thick eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenching. but when his gaze falls on you, however, wonwoo’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipates. 

you watch as his eyes meet your own, then he trails down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you have predicted. 

you know that stare awfully well: it is the same one that he gives you when he sees you around campus, or in the pc-bang when you’re winning or when you actually understand the concepts that he’s teaching you. the silent provocation that tells you, and only you, that he really wants to have some alone time right now. 

a tricky smirk sprouts at the corner of his lips, and he leans back against the couch. you follow his movements as he reaches towards his pocket and extracts his phone, staring at you as he does so. he unlocks it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he starts to type something.

[00:23] wonu: so glad to see that you came  

[00:23] wonu: will you do me a favour and meet me in the bathroom upstairs? second door to the right ;) 

and what can you do when he’s asking it like this? you take the stairs and you wonder, as you open your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you aren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that is actually very simple. 

a story with a beginning, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two want to fuck each other, you do, then you move right forward. no hidden feelings, no strings attached. that’s it. couldn’t get any better than that. 

but maybe, it isn’t everything about that, and you know it. it is also about overhearing the other girls talking as you make your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot and pretty he is. it is about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. it is about knowing that yeah, wonwoo is crazy hot and smart and funny and you can have that whenever you want.

x

just like the calm before the storm, there is a moment of quietness and stillness between the instant of when you lock the door, and the one when you see him. 

as you turn around, dwelling in his proximity, you think about a million things at the same time: about teasing him for his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he has to count on his covert booty call to get laid at a party. 

before you can say anything, wonwoo’s lips are on yours, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. you whimper in surprise as he pushes you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezes your body against his. your purse falls on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even notice it. 

it is something else, really. tonight, he’s kissing you as if he physically can’t contain himself long enough to do anything else - as if all that he can think of doing is to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, while your fingers pull strands of his hair.

as he invites his tongue inside your mouth, wonwoo groanes and lowers his hands, squeezing your ass like he is about to lose every last ounce of sanity he has left in him. you sigh as he moves his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. 

“someone’s excited,” you comment, slightly breathless. the only response you get is another groan, and the rolling of his hips against your inner thigh where you can feel his dick, already semi-hard, pressing. 

“couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else,” 

“i just needed to have you now. have you seen how hot you are?” his voice comes out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your core. 

“i see you’re starting to get more adventurous with this,” you bite down on your lower lip and he sucks your flesh, groping your ass once again. “parties and nights out used to be so off limits to you.” 

wonwoo chuckles against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. he starts making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you start to think how you could very well pass out seen the level of craving building inside of you. 

“i changed my mind.” he speaks as he leans back. 

you smirk at his attitude. “we’ll end up getting caught,” 

“aw, baby,” he pouts, looking at you with artificial pity. “are you afraid your brother is going to find out?”

okay, he can be kind of a prick sometimes. 

“so i can leave, then?” you raise one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 

“you can, the door is right behind you. you know i’m not one to insist,” wonwoo tells you, quickly losing interest in this part of the conversation. “but something tells me you won’t.” 

you don’t even try to respond, because there is nothing to be said: both of you know what you are doing there, and the idea of walking out is just too ridiculous to consider. 

with a suspire, you watch as wonwoo moves his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse. 

“what if someone hears us?” you suddenly remember, heartbeat quickening at the thought. 

“what is it?” he asks as his fingers work on your buttons, exposing more of your chest. the slow pace of his is going to kill you one of these days. 

“you’re worried that people are going to find out about this? about us? when you’re always begging to be fucked in the room next to your brother’s one or when there’s someone at my dorm?” 

you open your mouth to respond but his chuckle, so deep and melodious, catches you off guard. 

“how scandalous, right? you are not the pure little thing you make yourself to be,” wonwoo continues, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. he hums with delight. “red lace? you really want to tease me,” 

you swallow dry as he takes the blouse off your shoulders and gently places it beside the sink, above a towel. he can be so thoughtful and gentle. 

“wonu, i-“ “you’re such a little brat sometimes, you know that?” he interrupts, eyes following his own movements as his hands circle your body, moving to unclasp your bra. and of course he gets it right on the first try. 

“you came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it,” you stare him down, a smirk already creeping up in the corner of your lips. 

“how does that make me a brat?” 

he smiles. “don’t try to to play the naive card on me,” another agile movement of his fingers and your bra joins your blouse besides the sink. 

wonwoo sighs deeply at your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. you can drop the act now, y/n,” “i don’t-“ his mouth attacking you is all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he wants really.

overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezes you, playing with you as he moans against your skin. 

“i love it so much,” he hums, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. you were almost forgetting how much wonwoo aches to play with your tits - not that you are complaining. 

“and i love that it’s all for me,” he breathes out before placing kisses again.

you whimper at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. as much as you know he is most likely to just say whatever he thinks would turn you on, wonwoo’s words expand inside your chest, building a heat that seems to suffocate you. even if you know it is bullshit, maybe not all of it, you like to be called his. ego strokes and all of that. 

“wonu…” there is only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and at the moment you can’t care less if they hear you calling out his name. the guy really does wonders to your anxiety. 

but he also likes to tease you. 

he moves away from your breasts and you almost, almost, cry out in frustration. but wonwoo starts to trace kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. and you feel like you’re going crazy with all that back and forth.

“i’m not gonna lie, i understand where you’re coming from,” he says. “i like to keep this as a secret too. it’s so hot.” 

you almost forget how to inhale when he aligns his face with yours, placing a peck on your swollen lips. “yeah?” you ask, sounding as if you are in a daydream. 

“yeah,” he agrees, breathless. 

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he’s close to get too worked up.

“it’s so great to know that i have one of the sexiest nerdy girls on campus just for myself…” his hand trails up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “and no one knows.”

you bite your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “what’s so tempting about it?” you ask. 

he smiles. “ah… many things,”

your stare doesn’t vacillate. “i’d like an example,” 

instead of answering you straight away, wonwoo decides to take his sweet time. he leans his head to the side and kisses you feverishly, growing satisfied with the the small whimpers and breaths that echoes in between your mouths. his hands are all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes can not see. you only have your skirt and your panties on, and it is so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you. 

at last, he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours. as he speaks, you feel the tingle of his hands as they move towards the hem of your panties. 

“i like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re sore from the night before,” he speaks slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “and i know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. about how i fucked you so good that you almost cried,” 

you hum, closing your eyes. “what else?”

much to your dismay, his hands leave your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “when you send me those audios late at night,” he’s breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “crying out my name… ” he stops and takes a big breath. “how am i supposed to say no to that? so there i go, out the door, telling your brother that i’m going to the library to study, instead of saying that i’m going to see his crazy hot sister and that i’m going to fuck her…” he hesitates. “and i just get this… adrenaline rush because he and my other friends don’t know it’s you.” 

“and how do you know that i like any of it?” you tease. 

wonwoo snickers at your question. both of you know that it is plastered all over your face, but he can keep up with that little teasing if you want to. 

“two reasons,” he says. “first: you do the same to me, or don’t you?” 

“i don’t recall,” you respond, forging innocence. okay, maybe you do like to play the naive part. 

“oh no? what a terrible memory you have, i see why you do badly in exams when you don’t study with me. now, let me remind you,” he places a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. wonwoo is so close that you can count his eyelashes if you want to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wonder how you even manage to breathe in this position. 

“it was just last week, babe. you called me to your flat after your roommate had left,” one of his hands goes back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like sparks against your skin. 

“you got so horny with just the thought of having me, isn’t that right?” much to your surprise, your voice comes out a lot more steady than you have expected. “don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

wonwoo laughs, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “i don’t,” he agrees, digits pressing against your clothed area. 

you know he feels how wet your panties have become, so there’s no reason to keep that up. regardless, you kind of like it. 

“but i do remember how much you wanted me that night. how many times did i fuck you that night? and you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbours could have been catching something. that was so cute,” 

you sigh, your insides in knots over the tension you are sustaining. you hate him sometimes. hate how good he is. “i wasn’t counting.” 

“i know,” he swiftly pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side. 

“and this right here, this is the second reason. look at this,” his digits move, teasing you and you have to suppress a moan. “you’re always ready. i love that. you’re so good to me.” 

god, you are so close to lose it.

“so quiet all of a sudden,” his nose delicately trails up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in open kisses. in an attempt to ground yourself, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging through his t-shirt. you can still feel wonwoo’s fingers playing. you hate him. or not. you don’t know. 

“i know i leave you speechless, sometimes, but i wan to hear you too,” 

strong and steady, his other hand meets the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his.

“nothing? y/n, you’re especially irresistible tonight,” his eyes are somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. he appears as if he’s two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind at this point. 

“you know why i called you here?” “because you want to fuck me,” you respond without missing a beat. 

“i do, of course,” he places his forehead against yours, and you whimper. 

“and the best part is that no one will even know it,” he continues. against your best judgement, your knees are getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie.

“just you and i. just the two of us will know how much you begged.” 

“wonu,” you call out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. you whisper out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone. 

god, wonwoo loves hearing the effect he has on you. 

x

maybe jeon wonwoo does also have a golden dick. 

above you, he smirks at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. after he removes his thumb from your mouth, you get back to your feet. it swiftly crosses your mind that your legs might give out eventually but, thankfully, they seem a bit more firm than what you have anticipated. 

“better?” you ask. 

“perfect.” wonwoo kisses you, sighing against your mouth. he pulls away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow.

“you always are.” 

“aw, how nice of you,” you smile at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. “always with the compliments.” 

he hums in agreement, watching your naked body - your fingers holding that red bra he adores so much. “do we have any lesson programmed this week?” 

an incredulous laugh ruptures your lips as you clasp your bra behind your back. 

“we just had sex, and you’re already thinking about studying time?” 

he shruggs. “i like to have a schedule,” 

“i don’t actually remember, but we can game at mine wednesday,” your skirt moves up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. from the corner of your eyes, you can see wonwoo fumbling with his own jeans, which he now curses for being inside out. 

“can you pass me some toilet paper?” you ask him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. there’s no way you are going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando isn’t exactly the most welcoming either. 

wonwoo is sitting on the toilet lid, putting his jeans back, and simply nods in agreement before doing so. “i’d like to know, though,” he insists.

you smile, taking a cheeky glance at him. “oh, so you are needy. since when you’re so needy?” 

he groans. “i’m not needy, shut up.” the sound of his zipper closing echoes inside the cubicle. 

“well, you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.” 

you throw your red panties at him, watching as his face grows interested at the piece of cloth in his hands. wonwoo sighs, tugging his t-shirt back inside his pants. 

“you’re killing me,” he complains. “good.” you smile, turning back at him. “how do i look? presentable?” 

he examins you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “it doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that’s what you’re asking,” 

“great!” you swirl around, “have a nice night, wonu. and don’t get too excited with the panties,” 

wonwoo gets up and walks closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. you are positive he’s going to have fun with it later. “you’re going home already?” he asks. 

“yeah, you did a good job at making me tired,” the clicking of the lock is a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during your alone time.

wonwoo chuckles, leaning closer to you and he places a kiss on your forehead. 

“good night, then. thanks for the panties,” you laugh. “you’re welcome.” 

x

the building is glowing in the most diverse colours from the outside, and the sound of the music is like a distant pulse.

you watch, heart clenching inside of your chest, as wonwoo steps out of the front door with hoshi and seokmin - his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. 

there is a volume in his front pocket, where you are sure he has tugged in your panties.

“i think that we should go home and sleep. but let’s keep this conversation on hold,” wonwoo cuts off the conversation. seokmin, however, isn’t satisfied. 

“you know that i’ll find out eventually,” he says, trying not to trip while walking. 

“i always do. and hoshi knows it well.” 

hoshi laughs, meeting wonwoo’s eyes. on the other side of the street, you and nabi take the opposite direction, having wonwoo to turn his head quickly at you. 

“wonu-yah, i think you should give those lacy panties hanging off your pocket back to my sister tomorrow,”

“what-” “oh fuck!” a tomato red face wonwoo grabs them, while seokmin trips and nearly cries out loud in the middle of the street.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 7

When Kara receives a text from Lena that her ride to the restaurant has arrived, she half expects to see Lena waiting for her inside. She's only a little disappointed when to find the seat empty. What's more strange is that the driver doesn't take her to a restaurant, but rather a hotel.

Before she can wonder if maybe the restaurant is inside the hotel, a young woman emerges from the lobby and approaches the vehicle.

"Kara?" she asks a little breathlessly. Kara nods. "Hi, I'm Jess, Lena's assistant."

"Oh," Kara says, her stomach dropping. "Did she need to reschedule, or...?"

"Oh! No! Nothing like that, she's upstairs waiting for you." Jess hands her a keycard, offering a congenial smile. "Penthouse."

Blinking in surprise, Kara accepts the card with numb fingers. "And I just..."

"Yup! Staff and security are expecting you, so just go on in."

"Oh-kay..."

Jess holds the lobby door open, but doesn't follow her inside. When Kara pauses to look back, the woman is slipping into the same car Kara had just exited. As the car pulls away from the car, Kara takes a moment to collect herself.

This is fine. This is happening. And she's fine. She can do this.

Drawing her shoulders back, Kara presses further into the lobby, navigating herself to the bank of elevators with minimal fuss. When she presses the button for the penthouse suite, the car doesn't begin to move until she swipes her keycard against the sensor.

Catching sight of herself in the reflection of the doors, Kara feels flushed but exhilirated. For the first time in a long time, she feels... desirable.

When the elevator doors open, it spits her out directly into the middle of an expansive living space. Though a savory aroma fills the air, there's absolutely no one in sight.

"Hello?"

"In here!" Lena's disembodied voice calls from Kara's left. Kara drifts towards that direction, eventually turning a corner into a kitchen area bearing evidence of intensive cooking. Lena looks up from a saucepan she's stirring to grace Kara with a warm smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Kara echoes. Lena wears a stained white apron over what looks to be a black jumpsuit, pants long and elegant against her fair skin.

"I figure this is probably not what you expected for tonight, and I should have warned you, but I promise the food'll be as good as any restaurant's."

Only then does Lena seem to actually absorb what Kara is wearing. Green eyes widen minutely, then track up and down Kara's figure.

"Wow," she breathes.

A rush of pleasure floods Kara. She'd been mindful of her look even beyond the dress. She'd left her hair in a chignon, exposing the understated dangling earrings that brushed her bare neck. A gold cuff encircles her right wrist, catching the light as she leans against the island between them.

"Wow yourself," Kara returns in a low voice. She gives a teasing smirk. "I admit, when you said 'something fancy' I didn't think you meant chef boyardee."

Lena blinks, then throws her head back in a peal of delighted laughter. By the time she turns back to the pan, she has to scramble to save whatever is cooking.

"Oh shit!" she curses, still giggling as she  fumbles to turn off the heat. "That was close--- you're a menace!"

Kara lets her grin linger, watching Lena slide the pan onto a trivet. Then it's her turn to stare when Lena removes her apron, revealing a neckline that swoops lower than her sternum, accented by several strands of long, delicate chains looped around her neck. When Lena removes her hair tie, long hair spills around her shoulders.

With the intense styling from the show, her hair is soft and silky, as dark as ink in the overhead lights-- which Lena soon dims as she nods towards a small table set up with a pair of place settings.

"The wine cabinet is on that side. Care to pick something while I serve up?"

Kara readily obeys, if only to have a moment to calm her racing heart. She settles on a white she thinks will pair with the chicken she'd seen in the pan. She pretends not to see the label, one she does not recognize that she's sure is worth her half her yearly salary.

"Oooh, good choice," Lena observes when they converge at the table. As Kara sits, and Lena leans a little to deposit a plate in front of her, the inner curve of one breast becomes visible for the briefest moment.

Kara clears her throat, waiting for Lena to take her seat across the table. "You're full of surprises today," she tells her host.

"Let's just say I like to keep a girl on her toes." A mischievous glint sparks in Lena's eye as she lifts her wine glass. "To you," she toasts. "For making a certain niece slash goddaughter very happy."

"To both of us, then," Kara counters. Their glasses clink, and she's suddenly struck by how intimate her circumstances currently are. It's quiet in the penthouse, the only noise the sounds of their forks and knives clicking.

"Thank you," Lena says quietly. "For coming. I should have told you I didn't intend to bring you to resturant."

"I understand," Kara reassures her. "I can't imagine what the press would say if we were seen together--"

"What? NO. That is NOT what I meant." Lena leans forward, placing her hand on Kara's. "Are kidding? I would have absolutely zero shame being seen with you."

Kara flushes. "Oh."

"I wanted to spend time with you," Lena continues. "But being out there... it would mean sharing myself with the entire city. And the only person I want to share myself with tonight is you."

Her words descend to a low rumble, a tone that sends heat straight to her groin. She shifts in her seat, subtly adjusting in an effort to ease sudden arousal. It doesn't work.

"I hope you know how highly I think of you."

Kara's brow furrows. "That's part of what I don't understand. You don't... you don't know me."

She expects a denial, a claim of some profound connection that somehow explains everything. But Lena doesn't do that.

"You're right. We don't know each other very well. But do you know what I see when I look at you?"

"Honestly... no," Kara confesses. "I really don't."

"I see a busy woman who took time out of her evening to take her niece to a concert. Someone ran into a celebrity and didn't ask for a single thing except directions. And I see someone who saw a phone number on the back of a ticket, and had the courage to call it."

Lena gazes at her with even focus. Kara does her best to hold eye contact, until a flush creeps up her neck.

"I want to know more," she continues. She shrugs, lifting her wine glass to her lips. "Does it have to be any more profound than that?"

Kara considers her words, and to her surprise her anxiety about the whole thing begins to ease. Maybe Lena is right. Maybe Kelly is right too.

Maybe, sometimes, it's nothing more than two people enjoying each other's company. And sometimes, it doesn't need to be anything more than that.

"No," Kara agrees softly. "I suppose it doesn't."

The woman in front of her brightens even more, somehow. Lena leans back in a dignified sort of slouch, and Kara feels herself respond in kind. Her muscles loosen, and her grip on her fork eases.

"In that case," Lena says, "we have a whole evening ahead of us. Whatever shall we talk about?"

Kara meets her gaze, and relishes the energy she channels into it. Time to meet Lena exactly where she is.

"Anything you like."

---

'Anything' ends up spanning Kara's work, her family and even her limited travels, and she can't bring herself to feel self-conscious about how little it is. Despite having three times the worldliness at half her age, Lena listens with rapt attention, drinking it in.

It's easier to share than Kara thought it would be. She goes on and on, but it doesn't feel like too much, even when she figures it should be. Still, she makes a point to redirect the conversation to Lena, when they transition from the table to the couch for their second glass of wine.

"What about you?" Kara asks.

Lena snorts. "What about me?"

"Well, do you like to travel?" Kara settles into the cushions, letting her legs stretch a little. She notes the way Lena's gaze flits towards them for a brief moment before lifting back to Kara's face. "I mean, clearly you do travel, but do you like it?"

To her surprise, Lena shrugs. "It's part of the job. I don't really ever get the tourist experience, though. I think this afternoon is the closest I've come to it."

"Well, I'm always happy to be your travel guide to National City." Kara grins. "Next time I'll show you the karaoke bars I went to in college."

Lena stares at her, eyes sparkling pleasantly. "You said next time."

Instead of denying it, or trying to explain it away as a slip of the tongue, Kara tilts her head. "I did, didn't I?"

"You know..." Lena purrs, shifting to sit a little sideways, letting one finger brush the skin of Kara's shoulder. "I only had dinner in mind when I invited you out tonight."

"Mhmm," Kara hums.

"But ever since you showed up wearing this..." Lena's finger strokes the strap of Kara's dress. "I can't stop thinking what it might look like on my floor."

Kara's breath catches.

"No pressure," Lena continues, voice deep in her throat as she leans a little closer. "I just want you to know that you look.... ravishing." Lena's nose bumps the skin of Kara's neck. "And that I'd love to make you feel so, so good..."

Before she can think twice about it, Kara turns her head to meet Lena's lips with hers. Almost immediately, Lena gives a little moan, her hand coming up to cup Kara's cheek, deepening the kiss.

Kissing Lena feels less like fireworks, and more like a languid descent into velvet bliss. Lena feels soft, tastes sweet, and responds to Kara as though she lived inside her brain. Just as Kara reaches to tug Lena closer, the woman levers herself over to straddle Kara's lap. Now, both of Lena's hands are on Kara's face, and Lena's long hair brushes Kara's chest as she perches there, chin dipped to give Kara all her attention.

It's not until Lena's right hand begins to drift down towards Kara's chest that Kara pulls back for air.

"Wait," she urges breathlessly.

Lena pulls back immediately, concern plain over flushed cheeks. "Sorry. I didn't mean..."

"No, it's-- you're-- it's fine," Kara stumbles over her words. It's a struggle to form any words, let alone rational ones, past the cotton of desire stuffed between her ears. "It's just-- I haven't--"

Lena's brow furrows. "Ever?"

Kara barks a laugh. "No. Just a while." Letting her head fall back against the cushion, she sighs. "I don't want to do anything we both might regret..."

"Regret?"

Suddenly, Lena sounds small. Young in a way she hasn't before. Kara opens her eyes in time to see Lena's brightness dim, a shutter close behind her eyes.

"No, hey--" Kara reaches for her, but Lena pulls back, refusing to meet her eye. "Lena..."

"If you don't want this, you've got a shitty way of saying so."

Kara blinks in surprise at the shift in the woman's tone. But it's not anger that undercuts her words, but hurt.

"Not wanting isn't the problem," Kara murmurs. She reaches for Lena's wrist, and this time she lets her. "Usually, it is. But not this time. Not with you."

Lena looks at her, expression guarded, but says nothing.

"But I'd be lying if I wasn't afraid of what where this might lead. If tonight isn't... enough."

What had Lena said before? That she felt drawn to Kara... and if Kara were a magnet then Lena is the sun, with a gravitational field that could swallow planets-- and Kara-- whole.

"So... what do you want?" Lena asks soft.

"You." The answer is an easy one. "But maybe, whatever this is..." Kara waves her hand, encapsulating whatever invisible string was drawing them together. "Maybe it can last for more than tonight?"

Finally, Lena features soften into a timid smile. "Pen pals are cool too."

"Pen pal--!" Kara's incredulous exclamation gets swallowed by another kiss, this one soft and gentle, lingering.

"Friends, then," Lena murmurs. She looks into Kara's eyes, her gaze unfathomably deep. "And a reason to come back to National City."

When Kara leaves that night, Lena kisses her cheek one last time.

"You have my number," she murmurs, letting her hand run the length of Kara's arm as they part. "Use it."

When their fingers tangle together, Kara gives Lena's a squeeze goodbye.

"I will."

[happy74827]

Burning Bridges

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Upon an incident that was out of your control, Dexter comes to the realization that it wasn't just a coincidence.

WC: 1951

Category: Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort

I forgot how much I missed this show (him), so I decided to write another. It's been so long since I last wrote for him that I actually see the difference in my writing. It's wack.

『••✎••』

Dexter was many things… a brother, a son, a pro bowler, a serial killer… but what he lacked was being a good friend.

He didn't understand friendship or its value. It was something that he simply couldn't grasp. Sure, he was able to fake it well enough in order to make sure that people liked him and didn't find him too creepy or strange, but there was never any real emotional connection. In his mind, everyone was either someone he needed or someone he didn't need, and he would treat them accordingly. The only exceptions to this rule were his sister, Debra, and you.

The two of you had met back in college, having been assigned to be each other's partners for a group project. It was a poetry class and a course that Dexter hadn't really wanted to take, but a general education requirement and the promise of an easy A convinced him to at least show-up and suffer through it. Well, for a guy who had to fake every single aspect of his personality in order to fit in with society, it turned out that poetry didn’t come quite as easily as he thought it would.

He had always found the art form to be rather silly, with all the emphasis on metaphors and flowery language. There was no purpose or goal other than to be creative and artsy, and it bored him to no end. The first time you had sat down with him to discuss the project, you could tell how much he didn't want to be there, and the look of complete disinterest on his face as he tried to figure out what your poem meant was the most hilarious thing that you had seen in a while. You couldn't help but laugh, the sound of which made him sit up and give you a quizzical look.

"What?" He asked, tilting his head slightly, confused.

"Nothing," you replied, still giggling. "It's just that I can tell that you don't like poetry."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you haven't said a word; you're just sitting there, staring off into space and twirling your pencil between your fingers," you told him, and he glanced down at the utensil as if he didn't realize that he was doing that.

"Oh. Sorry, I guess," he apologized, his tone making it clear that he was actually a little annoyed at having been called out on his inattentiveness.

"That's okay. I like poetry, so I'll be happy to do most of the work," you offered, smiling sweetly, and his eyebrows raised.

And that you did. In fact, you loved it so much that you majored in English and planned on getting your Masters, while Dexter got his degree in criminology. It was a nice trade-off because while he struggled in poetry, getting down into the debts of his feelings that were nonexistent, you struggled with chemistry, unable to wrap your head around the subject no matter how hard you tried.

So, the two of you had a mutually beneficial agreement. You did all the work for the poetry class, and in exchange, he tutored you in chemistry and made sure that you got a decent grade. Once the class was over and done with, the two of you stayed friends, though you had very little in common. Dexter had no interest in books, and you had no interest in criminology. He was a loner, and you had plenty of friends. You were a romantic, and he was completely unromantic. He didn't even have a girlfriend, and you had been in three different relationships over the course of the two years that you had known him.

Still, the two of you got along well enough. You were one of the only people that Dexter could actually stand for more than five minutes, and he was the same to you. So you went out to the bar sometimes, hung out with his sister, and did your best to keep him company while also doing your best to try to set him up on dates, hoping that one of these days, he'd actually find someone. It eventually did work out when you found him Rita, but as of right now, she had broken up with him, and he was back to being a lonely bachelor which it didn't bother him much until now.

You were in the hospital, your head wrapped and bandaged like a mummy. You were apparently attacked outside the grocery store, and if it wasn’t for the small instructions he had given you for self-defense, you most likely wouldn’t have survived.

At first, Dexter didn’t think of it as anything important in terms of his line of work. He believed it to be a coincidence, a random crime in the night. But it turned into something more the night he decided to visit with some cake.

“How’s the head?” He asked as he came inside, seeing you propped up reading. Of course, you were reading.

You shrugged. “Like I’m wearing a sweater hat, but it doesn't hurt, so there's that." You paused, setting down your book and glancing at him. "I’m still salty about my groceries. Almost two hundred dollars I spent on that stuff. Gone. Wasted. Poof."

Dexter had to chuckle a bit. "Hey, I can't do much about the food, but I brought you something," he said, revealing the white box.

"Is it chocolate? If it is, I love you," you joked.

"No, it's just vanilla. But, here."

He opened the lid and showed you, and you immediately lit up.

"Awww, Dexter! You are the best friend ever," you gushed, giving him a warm smile.

He smiled back. "It's the least I could do."

He was cutting it up for you when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. You didn’t seem to notice, but out in the hall, a shadow passed by the window. His body went on alert, eyes flickering towards the door. He couldn’t see much, but he could make out an elderly man with gray hair and a beard.

Dexter's face remained unchanged, though his body language betrayed him as he sat the cake knife down. He knew that look. That look in a man's eyes when he was looking at prey. This was a predator.

"Hey, uh, what was that description again? Of the man who attacked you," Dexter asked, his tone a bit distracted.

"You mean Santa Claus on drugs? That pretty much sums it up. Why?" You looked up, confused.

"I don't know. It's probably nothing."

But it was something. The man had apparently come back to finish the job, and Dexter's jaw clenched at the thought. He was already planning his death in his mind. It wouldn’t be pretty. He gave you a piece of cake, swearing that he’d be back soon before going after the man. He stopped at the lobby momentarily, informing Angel to keep an eye on you, which, of course, the cop complied with.

Angel was a good cop. He was loyal, smart, and a damn good shot. But there was one thing that made him a great cop. He cared about his city and the people in it. He would protect the innocent no matter the cost, especially when it came down to those he was closest to. He was the kind of guy who would risk his life without a second thought if it meant saving others.

This is why Dexter liked Angel and why he was the only one that he trusted with this job.

Finding the man was extremely easy on his part. Dexter already knew what the guy’s plan was, so he stuck around outside the parking lot, watching the shadows. After a few minutes, the man appeared, heading towards the entrance once again.

He never got that far.

A hand was clamped over his mouth while the other dragged him away from the double doors and towards the side of the building. Dexter didn’t pull out his knife, though, only resorting to his arms as he applied pressure against his throat. The man fought, trying to break free, but he didn't get the chance. Dexter didn’t kill him, no, not yet, but his arm was still strong, and he had no plans to let go.

“Listen closely. If you so much as look the wrong way, I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat. Understand? Nod if you do," he threatened, his voice calm and even. The man nodded, terrified, his eyes wide.

"Good," Dexter replied, “Why are you here?"

The man was quiet, but he was breathing heavily, and his eyes were watering.

"Talk. That girl, why are you after her?"

"I’m not—”

"You attacked her, and now you came back to finish the job, did you not? Who sent you?"

The man was sweating; his face was flushed and red. Dexter was pressing too hard, and his victim was starting to lose air. He didn’t care.

"Who?" He repeated.

The man choked, unable to speak.

"Last chance. Who sent you? And don't lie to me."

The man didn’t answer, and Dexter tightened his hold. That finally did it. The man began to squirm violently, trying to break free, but it was too late. His face started to turn purple, and Dexter had to adjust his grip and pull him closer.

“It wasn’t personal! I had to! I didn't have a choice! It was just a job!" He gasped out, struggling for air. “I got paid to do it. I was just doing what I was told! Please, please, don't kill me."

"Who was it?"

"I—I don’t know. It was some lady. I met her at a bar. She didn’t give her name, but he wasn’t American. She gave me ten thousand dollars and told me that the job was to attack this chick in the parking lot and make it look like an attempted robbery. Said it had to be done in a couple of days. Listen, man, I didn't want to do it. But the money—"

"What did she look like?" Dexter cut in.

"Dark hair. Young. I don't know! I don't know, I swear. She wore sunglasses the whole time. Please, don’t kill me. Please."

Suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. The Dark Passenger was roaring, the realization washing over him like cold water.

Lila.

Everything made sense now. The way she had suddenly showed up out of nowhere, the incident outside the bowling alley, her sudden interest in you. It all made sense. She was behind it. She had done it.

Dexter wanted to snap the man's neck. He wanted to rip his throat out. He wanted to take his knife and stab him over and over again, to punish him for what he had done to you, but he refrained. He had the answers he needed, and the cameras around were still running.

He dropped him and watched him collapse, gasping for air. He didn't move, too scared and in shock to do so. Dexter didn’t say a word; his anger was silent, but it was boiling beneath his skin.

He was going to kill her. He was going to hunt her down and end her, and there was no place on Earth where she could hide.

“You ever, and I mean ever, come near her again; I will tear out your spine and make you choke on it. Understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand."

Dexter didn’t say anything else; he simply walked off, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had a lot to think about.

[blackmoonoracle]

PICK A CARD - THE PATH AHEAD

PILE ONE

I feel like a lot is being hidden from pile one honestly, like- there are a LOT of blessings coming to you guys. One big blessing may be that you will be entering into some sort of partnership. Likely a business ordeal that is really going to help your reputation. I'm talking a lot of recognition, maybe even being given access to certain resources that are rather hard to ascertain for most people. This partnership could be with a fire sign woman, or some sort of witch. Or YOU could be a fire sign woman or a witch. I'm seeing where something you've been working on for a very long time is going to start paying off. For some it could be a skill, people could be giving you recognition for how thorough you are. It's possible that some people are going to be confused by your success? You could've been struggling with stagnancy for quite some time, and then it's like out of the blue suddenly everything is just paying off all at once. It's like people saw the work you were putting in, and they just sort of figured it was all for nothing maybe? Good on you for not letting the way people talked, viewed, or projected onto you keep you from going after your desires. You may be isolating yourself from family due to some kind of trauma, or perhaps that has already recently happened. It seems like you're already a bit of a loner, or hard for others to read? So this could be you abandoning a family dynamic, or refusing to participate in some sort of cycle any longer for the sake of benefiting an abuser or keeping the peace & happiness of others. You're learning how to prioritize yourself. You are releasing mental and emotional blockages in love, that have kept you from having emotional peace. Learning a new skill, and learning how to move in silence. I feel like you will be taking on a new endeavour and you are not going to be telling ANYONE about this. Keep your passion, don't forget who you are, and if people try to cause drama or fight with you or bring up past grudges don't even put energy into engaging with them. State your piece if need be and keep it moving, these people are only seeking access to your energy because they delude themselves out of admitting their regrets. Trust that the right doors will be opened for you, keep things to yourself for the time being and trust your friends. They're in your corner, they're NOT trying to hurt you. If this pile resonated, and you'd like to book a personal reading based on this particular topic you can message me and tell me your pile number for a 45$ in depth reading on this topic.

PILE TWO A LOT of pentacles came out for this pile, so more than likely Taurus, capricorn, Virgo, and 10th, 6th, and 2nd house energy are present here. I feel like a lot of you are rather self centered at times, there's nothing wrong with knowing when to prioritize yourself, but I do feel like there is a lesson coming up regarding your reputation and your tendency to hoard resources of some kind? It feels like you can be rather argumentative at times, or that alternatively you have a lot of internal conflict regarding your reputation and what success means to you. Even if you are not hoarding a resource of some kind, the common theme here is stubbornness. I see you WANT to be in this King of Pentacles energy, feeling like you have financial security AND luxurious amounts of spending money. Yet, I also feel like sometimes you get caught up in money and materialism. There is more to life than money, and with the 2 of cups on the bottom of the deck this could actually be about romance. The lovers was beneath it. I feel like you are needing to tap in more with your feminine side, maybe spending more time nurturing your ideas and desires. Learning how to back up what you want to create, there is a need for you to develop your space of comfort more. Give yourself more peace, and connect with those you love more frequently. Basically, from what I can tell spirit is asking you to take control and make some changes in the way you are engaging with your loved ones. Be more present, and stop projecting unrealistic expectations onto yourself and others. It can make you pretty crabby at times from what I can tell, and it puts you in a position to where you can be a bit greedy- or just stubborn in general about what you think should be expected from others. Be more accountable for the role you play in your misery & learn to let go of what YOU think is best. The universe is trying to show you an easier path, but you are scared of letting go of what you've created. Things move in seasons. Relax, and let shit happen, it doesn't always need to be to a T. Some of you also need to express your thoughts and feelings more frequently. My throat feels tight, and weird, and like blocked? So definitely work on your communication as well. Keep going, and know that you are in control of your path. If any of you are into energy cleansing, do that more frequently. Sleep more often, stop letting people get to you, or when you fall or fail, just shake it off. Don't let it control or affect you too deeply. sometimes it just is what it is. Lastly, pay attention to signs in the form of butterflies, and listen to more music. Dance, get creative, paint, host a kickback. Do SOMETHING to get your creative juices flowing. If this pile resonated, and you'd like to book a personal reading based on this particular topic you can message me and tell me your pile number for a 45$ in depth reading on this topic.

PILE THREE

I feel like this pile has gone through a lot of trials and tribulations recently, I'm picking up on either a water sign woman or maternal energy doing a lot of manipulative stuff. It feels to me like there is someone in your life that is using their emotions to align you with their desired outcomes. It feels like you are very much in your own idea of what life should be and how you can develop that for yourself. I see where you may have a creative endeavor that you really want to pay off. You may stress and have frequent anxiety about fulfilling this desire due to this energy and the way it engages with you. You're being asked to keep your goals and ideas in mind. By choosing yourself and your truest desires over what this person has decided is best for you you will find true healing and self expression. I feel that this individual has very black & white thinking and a position of authority somehow. Seeing as the Justice card came out. There may be an influence coming in from a passionate, witchy, or fire sign woman who is teaching you some form of manifestation or spell work possibly? This could also be you tapping into your witchy side. I just keep hearing witchy woman. Your outlook on life is being shifted significantly in the coming future in order for your path to your desires to unfold properly. You may be forced to leave things behind, you may have to cut your losses regarding financial support from a family member of some kind and take things into your own hands. I'm seeing where you will be forced to let go of some sort of comfort zone of some kind. Because it is actively blocking you from achieving your goals. It's being shown here where your desires and your current circumstances quite literally cannot develop together. Like it's impossible. You need to learn that sometimes, especially if this is about leaving the house and moving to be on your own- that you have to be willing to take risks. Things are not meant to always be easy, but you are a strong and willing soul who can accomplish whatever your heart desires. Find a new outlook, and really ask yourself if your desires are so unattainable. If this pile resonated, and you'd like to book a personal reading based on this particular topic you can message me and tell me your pile number for a 45$ in depth reading on this topic.

[spurbleu]

few lucky men ✤︎

[ken sato x afab reader]

S. he convinces you, in the exchange of a drink, to be his luck charm, a rabbit's foot sewed in saccharine smiles.

warnings: mdi, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, hookup

word count: 3.2k

࿓༚︎︎‧⁎︎✳︎⁎︎‧︎༚︎࿓︎

Drenched in ecstasy.

Partygoers moved in short bursts- their silhouettes collapsing and repairing in a drunken frenzy. Sudoric air settled in the pockets of in-between (gaps among a kissing couple, an open mouth smile, the space separating fingers), stealing the hot breath from the masses.

Did it make you better- to be an observer rather than a player? To watch from the ‘dimly lit bar’ (everyone writes about it one day- you’ve seemed to find it in penthouse of stranger), neck wet from your intervals on the dance floor.

You tried finding the answer at the bottom of a shot glass- so many times you’d forgotten if you had. The bartender seemed to have a taste for your saccharine smiles, charmed as he handedken you yet another drink.

Martini glass- even in the low light you could see the blushing pink of the liquor, an orange film resting on the surface. On a stick, a raspberry, which you popped in your mouth with relish.

“What is it?”

He shrugged, saying something you couldn’t hear as he corralled a drunken man off the bar table. You take an eager sip.

You could hear the liquor burning your throat, the acid settling in your stomach with a content thrum. The aftertaste came with a buzz- subtle tinge of berry and orange- sweeter than the liquor. You let yourself giggle over the drink- perhaps childish, but all the more honest.

“Oh my god…that’s so good.” It had been a long time since you actually liked the process of getting drunk over the feeling.

“Glad you like it.”

You turn slowly, partly because you needed to, partly because it felt sexy in the moment. The curve of your lips gave away your tipsy- an askew smile creasing the plush of your cheeks. It complimented the soft flush under your eyes- make up flaking. You were hopeful, positive, that it didn’t dissuade him.

Dark hair fell lopsidedly on his face, the roots flat with sweat. The curve of his cheekbones was sharp, but promising. They creased over his smile, sideways and charming. It looked familiar- then again liquor can do that- handsome faces always looked the same under dim lighting and vodka.

“Hey.” You said casually.

He chuckled, shaking his head. There was an air about him- definitely drunk- but not enough to make you nervous. “Hello.”

“I assume you bought this drink for me?”

“I did,” He leaned on the bar, and you caught the way his eyes ran up your figure (it felt like he was already undressing you- not that you minded), as he held out a hand, “Ken. Ken Sato.”

There was an attitude in the lilt of his voice. Confidence- borderline arrogance. He was definitely famous- judging by the way he carried his broad shoulders and low tone. He wanted you to know who he was.

You ran the cap of your tongue over the roof of your mouth before introducing yourself and shaking his hand. “Charmed.”

You took another sip of your drink, not loosing his eyes, “How did you know I liked fruity drinks?”

He laughed- a pretty sound. It swelled into the lighter timbres of his voice, harsh around the edges like the salt on a cocktail glass. You sucked in your bottom lip- you wanted to hear it again.

“Lucky guess.”

You took another sip, humming in reply. “You a lucky guy, Ken?”

There was a glint in his eyes then. The grey was sharpened (knife against a whetstone) into something more. It wasn’t more of anything- just more. Like when you breathe and you feel your chest expanding, or you look at the view from your window from a different angle, and it swells.

More.

“Depends…” A long finger came to trace the rim of your glass. The groove of his knuckles had you mused- observing the vein that crept from his wrist. You tilted your head, leaning further into the bar as you crossed your legs.

“On…?”

He gave you a wry smile- and for a foolish moment you thought it looked unpracticed. Genuine- a contentment pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“…if I get to take you home tonight.”

You blinked. It was rare for you to be caught off guard- and your laugh might’ve given it away, if you hadn’t turned towards the bar, your hair covered the deepening tint on your cheeks.

“So bold.”

“Is that wrong?” he asked, a subtle anxiety obvious in the falter of his shoulders and the shake in his voice. You gave him a smile, taking a final sip of your drink before placing it back on the bar.

“No, no I never said that. Just an observation,” you hummed, “in fact, I’m flattered that your luck relies on me.”

You could tell by the shift in his shoulders that he had regained his confidence, eyes meeting yours again. “Well,” his hand came up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. The moment felt strangely domestic for a bar in the middle of a party, the music in the background sounding much sweeter than you remembered it last, “want to make me a lucky man tonight?”

His hands rested by your ear, waiting for you to answer or for you to swipe it away. You did neither, and instead leaned in, nose to nose with a complete stranger. You saw the way his hand twitched (nervous- cute), and how his eyes remained unmoving but hopeful.

“Alright.”

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

“Fucking finally.”

He lifted you, holding your thighs and resting them on his hips as he pulled your face up to his and kissed you.

There was a frustration on his lips- undoubtedly caused by the way you palmed his trousers in the car, watching as he gripped the steering wheel in thin patience. But beneath it was fervor- not in the slightest sloppy.

But it wasn’t practiced, either. The plush of his lips against yours- the way his teeth occasionally nipped at your bottom lip or grazed your top one. It lacked a coordination that would have felt unnatural. He kissed you like he was sober- like even if liquor hadn’t been in your guts- he’d still want you.

The thought made you pant into his mouth, kissing him with a new ferocity as he carried you through the hall.

He laid you down on something soft. You watched him as he stripped, ignoring the urge to call out something filthy.

Wide shoulders capitalized his broad chest, held up by a collection of muscles- breathing in a hungry rhythm that made you clench your thighs. He looked taller than he did at the bar, pronounced by the reel of his shoulders and the way it rippled down his spine.

He must be some kind of athlete, based on his build. God, he looked near indestructible- even the small of his waist promising a reckoning. You bit your lip- mind wondering if the other parts of him held a similar weight.

He turned towards you, bare to his boxers, stepping over the bunches of clothing that rested on his feet.

There it was again- that lopsided smile. It was harsher now, the ends of it pulled tight into his cheeks, plump in red desire. The base of it wet and swollen- your doing. A surge of pride fuzzed at the base of your hips.

He crawled towards you, arms coming to rest by your shoulders, eyes curiously roaming you figure- still dressed. You swallowed.

You were no virgin- but men always moved fast. Hands shoving up your dress, clothes still on as you fucked half-minded and antsy. Their breath always reeked of alcohol or something stronger- forcing you from the sheets in the early morning before the light found your face.

You weren’t used to leisure- it felt near painful. Watching him see you- lacking a hostility and haste found in most sex. It was graceful without calculation- living in the way he kissed you (evidence enough in your bloated lips) and in the aphrodisia that fanned from the base of his nose.

It was all sobering- and you were still trying to figure out if you liked it.

“Do you like this dress?”

His question grounded you, and you glanced down before nodding slowly. “It’s my favorite.”

He grinned, pulling you forward by the small of your back as his hand found the zipper, eyes still searching yours. “I’ll be gentle with it, then.”

He slipped the zipper down and you shivered- unsure if it was the surge of cool air that assaulted the dip in your spine, or the way his fingers traced the curve of it.

He had that effect on you- it was maddening. To be unsure was unfamiliar. Night after club after party, expectations were met. Sloppy intimacy, driven by the liquor, hot on your tongues as you navigate the unlikelihood of orgasm.

It was the way he looked at you. Stealing (almost preserving, a romantic thought), eating precious time, knowing exactly what he was going to do and how aroused you’d be. He had the upper hand, held the cards, whatever analogy made it easier to swallow.

Your dress was off now, and he sat back on his heels, hands coming to hold the dip in your waist. His thumbs pressing into the supple of your skin, the pad of his print searing into the tender parts of you. Again, domesticity, falling somewhere between appreciated and perturbed.

“You’re beautiful.”

You laughed weakly, unwilling to admit his words tied knots in your stomach, “Then why aren’t you kissing me?”

He laughed (Martini- salt rim. Softer now, warm rum, firewood), coming off his heels before hovering inches above the plunge of your abdomen, leaning on his right forearm as he came face to face with you. “Impatient?”

“No,” you corrected, voice hoarse, “I’m just not used to men being this slow…”

His eyebrows rose, arch carving surprise masked by amusement, before his mouth came to kiss the space between your jaw and your ear, sensitive pulse thrumming humiliatingly fast under his palate.

“Slow? What’s wrong with slow, sweetheart?”

You closed your eyes, resisting the urge to moan as he made his way down your neck, kisses slowly becoming more intense, leaving bubbles of red and pink in their wake. A hand came to brace the base of your neck, holding you still as you tried to keep a semblance of sanity. “W-Well you…it takes you longer to…get to the point.”

He hummed, lips tugging into a smirk on the slump of your collar bone. His hand slipped down from your neck, palming your back as he unclasped your bra. The motion was done delicately, fingers fluttering over the gap in the center of your posture.

How easy it would be, you thought, for him to pull you from the seams.

Unravel the thick knots of arousal that held you together weakly as he cupped your breast with his free hand, navigating the sensitive flesh with eager teeth and tongue. You let a sigh escape the cavern of your lungs- relief. You felt his chest rumble over your stomach- laughter.

“You seem to be enjoying the slow approach.”

Your jaw clicked, your head lifting up- face chastising. He smiled, sitting between your breasts with a proud smile. You glared at him- secretly amused with his antics, “If I knew you were going to be this slow, I would have-hhhuu…”

You were quickly silenced as his tongue padded against your nipple, teeth grazing before moving down your stomach. You let yourself lean back into the pillows, soft fabric cool against your burning muscle. Maybe slow wasn’t…terrible.

His lips drifted until he met the base of your pelvis, a single hand coming to play with the band of your thong, the other sitting teasingly at the small of your back. You grit your teeth, blowing frustrated breath through your nose.

“Ken.” You said, warning.

“Magic word, sweetheart.”

His cadence was conceited- reeling in his own indecency- facing your wet cunt and deciding to wait. It was beyond you- to be patient. Anticipation wasn’t friendly. But the tug in your gut- the beat between your breaths as you watched him smile at you- wanted you to try.

You rolled your head back, avoiding the gaze that brought it out of you. “Please.”

He smiled, satisfied. He pulled the last remaining fabric aside, revealing your sobbing cunt.

You sucked in through your teeth. Cold air, vicious in degree, nestled in the clandestine cavity between your legs. It only amplified the slick, dripping from vulnerable corners in pleas of sticky respite. It leaked, rather unevenly, to the inside of your thighs, covenant to your impatience.

Despite the display, there wasn’t humiliation- only a rapacious desire as you bucked your hips.

Please.

You felt his nose grind into your mound, his tongue finding the fold of your lips. You gasped, rolling your hips forward. Shit.

Weighted lips on the base of your cunt, you scrambled for your dignity. Out of reach, knocked out of your hands- with each new wave of pleasure sent from the base of your spine to the tip of your head. He hummed against you, the vibration against sensitivity pulling your stomach forward in an arch spelling your surrender.

“Oh s-ssshit. Ohsh’it. Ken-fuck,” You were left damseled under his tongue, exploring the early sponge of your walls, “P-please don’t stop…feels…sogood.”

He tilted his chin, tougher bone now grinding against the polish of your lips, his mouth now entirely centered around your defenseless clit.

White knuckles came to grip his hair, a breathless moan rattling behind your teeth, digging into your bottom lip. Patience paid its due, your libido only expanding from your hips to your gut as he continued his slow assault.

Swallowing every ounce of you that slipped through your own breached barricade, staining his mouth with the stench of yielding. He must smell it- your admission of defeat, you confession that God, patience has taught you. Secretly, you hope he’s enjoying it- maybe even addicted.

“Oh fuck- Ken-“

Strangers- saying his name like a chorus. Repeating it until the syllables are sore and it doesn’t taste as sweet. Until it rots your teeth, palpable when your own name starts to sound unfamiliar. Until the underside of your tongue- soaked in drool, has it etched.

Your legs felt your oncoming orgasm first, the familiar shake in your ankle coming up to tense your calves. You pressed them into his cheeks, before he slotted his digits around the pudge of your thigh and pinned them to the bed with a gruff groan.

Don’t do that. It said.

It started to rise to the bed of your spine, and you moaned his name louder with each reckless kiss he laid against your swollen lips. “Ken…I’m close please….close…close...”

The grooves of his tongue worked harsher against the peaking bud, Go on, he wrote, do it.

Blooming in the filthier parts of you. From its spoiled roots, you can feel your orgasm rising and collapsing within the gardens of your stomach. It grows between the liquid bones of your legs, vines beneath coiled veins. In haphazard gasps, you can feel the coolness of petals slip along your tonsils.

Eventually, the garden withers- beautifully. Leaving you, shaking and bare in its wake. You crumple under the lost weight, whimpering when you feel the heat you had wished to memorized separate from the cleft between your legs.

You held a clarity in the moments after- free of allergens and bothersome thoughts- left in a still state of bliss. Where the body numbs, accepting the blunt of orgasm. Or, the state of complete fragility.

In it, you hardly noticed the way Ken stood, wrapping the plush of his palm against your ankle- until he yanked you forward, now flush against his hips.

He leaned over you, the curve of his back now abandoning the lesson he had seemingly been teaching you- patience. Instead, it held the virtue of a man starved- famished. He took a hand to cup your cheek, wiping the sweat that collected under your lashes.

“Sweetheart- you didn’t think we were done, did you?” To accentuate his point, he rutted his hip against you, and you felt the crest of his cock against your puffy lips, and you moaned, feeling the spindles and buds from the garden unearth themselves again.

His had came to grab your chin, squeezing your cheeks as he continues the torturous clothed rhythm against your beaten pussy. It was so vulgar, contrary to the gentleness that had your legs pressed together minutes ago- that, hilariously and pathetically, they began to spread.

(Patience has its limits, even for its preachers).

You bucked your hips, and he shook his head, grip tightening on your sore cheeks. “Use your words, what do you want?”

“M-mmore.”

Unsatisfied. “Of what?”

“Yyou…’ock in m’pussy…pleaseuh…”

There it was again, the sharpening of a knife. The more in his eyes- the lull of normalcy into something larger than words, feral and unkept. You knew he was famous in that moment- no man of the regular vitality would have so much to keep hidden behind the iris of his eyes.

He tore the band of his boxers down to his thighs, his cock flattening on your belly and you hissed, its pulse feverish against you. As he leaned his hips back, he took it in his hand, the other still holding your chin (albeit, tamer), pressing the tip against your weeping lips, still stingy from your orgasm.

You let out a strained gasp. “Fuck, Ken- j-just please fuck me al-“

The sound of him bottoming out was borderline obscene, his length slowly plunging into the stiff dough of your walls, his shuddering breath devolving into a husky moan. Your back arched into him, as if your body was trying to fill you up more than he already did.

Your cunt acted as your hands- feeling around the thick basin of his cock, memorizing the fat vein that slithered up the right side- the shroomed tip hitting your cervix. Just how full you felt then.

As he fell into a slow rhythm, you felt as though he was forcing you to rememorize every patch of flesh and ecstasy in your own cunt. Refamiliarize yourself with your walls as he battered them, the sound of your own body as it’s severed in two- it was all so crude.

His hips rolled into your own, heavy grunts peeling from the roof of his mouth. Empty mumblings and moans thrummed from your lips- nonsensical aloud- but it all felt right with him bruising your insides.

“Hah- this is what you wanted right? To be fucked? You feel good sweetheart?”

His voice was tilted, the grasp of your cunt slurring the modest inflections, defaulting his words to a shameless, pussy drunk husk. He knead the base of his palm against the cushy flesh around your pelvis and you nearly screamed- hand pressing his own cock deeper into you.

“Yes, please please don’t stop- feel so gooodd…so full…”

His pace seemed to push the honesty from your gut to your throat, coming out in spurs of confessionals. Tears pooled at the lining of your eyes, snot dribbling in an immodest drop over the crest of your lips.

Ken took his hand off your chin and swiped a thumb over the veil of sweat and tears from your cheek. “Look at you- such a mess. Such. A. Fucking. Mess.”

He punctuated each word with a particularly harsh thrust, and you could barely hear him speak over your own babbling. Your eyes struggled to see anything of detail, mind foggy in its own relish.

“Ken…Cu…cumm..uh..uh..”

He slowed his pace and you whined in protest, before he grabbed your hips, thumbs digging into the bluntness of your bone. “Not yet.”

Your mind was too murky to collect the next several seconds of movement, but suddenly you were on your face, shoulders hunched over your cheeks, your ass arched in a flattering angle. And before you could process any change at all, he pressed his cock deeper than you’ve felt it.

He must have been deaf to your moans at this point, you gripped the sheets in front of you- the white fabric memorizing the timbre and pitch of your voice as you screamed his name and other useless curses.

The sound of his hips connecting with the pudge of your ass was near sickening, and he bent down, holding your hands in one fist to splay in front of you. He leaned by your ear, his free hand digging a plum grip on your hips.

“Come’n, Sweetheart. Cum for me…you can….hah….do it.”

You did.

The garden was gone. Scorched by something so fiery hot you could barely see. It burned the tendons and muscles beneath your pulsing skin, renewing the flowers for stars. Spots in your vision- comets eroded into something rougher (beautiful, still), the constellations spilling from your drool as you muttered something incoherent and unimportant into the mattress.

He rode you out through your high, whispering your name, capitalized by curses and mutters.

“Hah…shit- fuck oh god I'm cu-uhmm..”

He slipped out, an unflattering sputter echoing somewhere behind you as you felt him drip out on the gaps of your back.

Your ass fell limp to the side, legs crumpling under the weight of your own pleasure- searing. It wasn’t a broken feeling however, being split in two. Your cells buzzed with a ferocity you had been unfamiliar with until now, euphoric, frayed ends playing at the fringes of your mussed hair, the corners of your mouth- lifted.

You shuddered. You weren’t sure what to feel- if anything. Exhaustion and arousal leaked from the intimate parts of you- but anywhere else it was a mystery.

It wasn’t until you felt a warm hand cradling your face that you registered what it could-should be.

Comfort.

“You alive?”

You snorted, sinking into the grooves of his palm. “It wasn’t good enough to kill me.”

Ken raised a brow, body curled next to yours in a position that felt, yet again, domestic. “Oh yeah? I recall you screaming my name loud enough that the neighbors might think I d-“

You placed a hand over his mouth, gentle enough that he could pull it away if he wanted too. You let out a quiet sigh, snuggling closer and laying your head on his arm.

“Shh. Don’t ruin anything by talking. You’re right- whatever…” you yawned, peaking one eye open, a butter smile creasing the base of your cheeks, “you feel lucky yet?”

His hand came to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear- a movement familiar enough you’re beginning to think he had a habit of it. He smiles at you, drowse pulling at the edges of his eyes.

“Yeah. I do."

[madamsnape921]

Phone Help

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

WC: 2557

Warning: f/f smut; I really went out of my comfort zone for this one but I think it turned out okay; my husband deserves a shout out for his help of writing this one: Thank you, Nick!

Tags: @alwaysachorusgirl @beccabarba @storiesofsvu

You had just started your first month at Quantico, not exactly your dream job but it provided a steady income and federal benefits. It was a relief to be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment in the city after your recent relationship ended. However, the agents were a challenge. They were arrogant, thinking they were the ultimate saviors, and their actions reflected that attitude.

“YN?”

As you snap out of your self-absorbed tirade, you notice one of the top members from the Behavioral Analysis Unit standing in front of you, looking just as perplexed as you feel. Why is she here? You wonder to yourself.

“Yes, Agent…?” you look for a nametag.

“Prentiss. Emily Prentiss. I am with the BAU. So, hey. Our normal tech person is not keen on doing our personal phones. She mentioned I should come to the new girl, which I am assuming is you, to help me?”

You despised phone work. Actually, you loathed it. But you knew that earning some brownie points with a senior agent could be beneficial in the future. So, you forced yourself to answer the call and politely responded, "Of course, Agent Prentiss. What can I assist you with?"

“The phone is acting slow and I can’t seem to find any of my files,” she hands you a card. “YN, here is my work number. Call me when you figure it out?”

“Sure. I’ll look at it here and then I’ll see what I can…,” you started. 

I'd rather not use agency time or equipment for this task. The data on my device is personal and I don't want anyone else to have access to it. One of my close friends happens to be a top-notch hacker, so she probably has something lurking around in there.”

Prentiss gave a nod and then exited your office. She walked away with ease, her sensible pantsuit moving smoothly with each step.

After a grueling day at work, you finally reach your apartment. Your fingers are still warm from typing on the keyboards as you touch the doorknob. You step inside and are greeted by your faithful feline companions. "Sorry guys, Mom has to fix a friend's phone."

A friend's phone? That was unexpected, you thought.

You pour yourself a glass of wine and sit down at your computer, confident that this task will not take too much time. All I need to do is scan the phone for any harmful files and reinstall everything. It should be a piece of cake, you think to yourself. After completing the scan and finding everything to be in order, you give Agent Prentiss a call, relieved by the ease of the process.

“Hey, Agent Prentiss, it’s YN. Your phone is finishing up now. If you want to head down I can text you my address.”

“YN, that would be fantastic! Thank you for being so efficient,” Prentiss exclaimed. “I'll be at your residence in 15 minutes.”

“How do you know that?” you asked.

“I’m with the government. I know everything,” Prentiss joked.

After completing the scan, you realize that there is an issue. The program alerts you to the presence of a malicious app on the phone, Calculator PlusPlus. You launch the app and it prompts for a password. Using your own knowledge, you successfully crack the password and let out a triumphant laugh, "Take that, Penelope."

The next thing you see are numerous pictures of nude women, all with the same hair color and style as you. This must be what's taking up all the storage space on the phone, along with all of the data. You panic when you hear a knock at the door.

“YN, it’s Emily. I’m here about my phone,” Prentiss called from the hall.

DOUBLE SHIT. MINIMIZE MINIMIZE MINIMIZE! SHIT it’s frozen. SHITSHITSHIT.

“YN, I thought it was ready,” Prentiss knocked again. 

After hearing a knock at your door, you call out "Coming!" and get up to answer it. You open the door to see Agent Prentiss standing there.

"Hey there, Agent Prentiss. Please come in," you say with a smile, dressed in your comfortable lounge pants and cat mom tank top.

“Please call me Emily, we’re not at work.” You close the door behind her, her in the same suit from work.

“Please sit. Do you want something to drink?” you offer. 

“I’ll have a beer. It’s been hell with the BAU.” She sits on your couch and begins to pet one of your cats. “Beautiful cats, YN!”

“Thanks, they’re my babies,” you smile.

You grab the beer from the fridge and pop it open, handing it to Prentiss. As you both relax and chat about work and other small talk, an hour and a half quickly passes by. Suddenly, you remember something and say, "Oh, your phone! It's in my room. I'll go get it for you."

Upon entering your room, you find the computer still frozen on a picture of a nude woman. The figure resembles you, but not entirely. It's almost like a lower-quality version of yourself. You are immediately jolted by the realization that these intimate images are displayed prominently on your oversized screen.

“Oh, I see you found the Calculator PlusPlus App…,” Prentiss whispered.

“OH MY GOD! I AM SO SORRY. I was trying to find any malicious apps and I cracked this one’s code and…. I wasn’t snooping. I promise,” you apologised.

“I believe you, but you know what this means, right” Prentiss scowled.

“No…,” you said in response.

Prentiss puts her hand on her gun holster, “I’ll have to kill you to keep my secret safe.”

The room fell silent, and Prentiss let out a chuckle. "Just kidding," she said with a smirk. "Just put them back and don't tell anyone. I have a type...smart, dark-haired girls like yourself."

The phone was too easy to fix. Would she… she wouldn’t.

Prentiss gently brushed your hair and whispered, "We can keep another secret just between us, if you'd like." Your face paled as she tenderly kissed your lips. You had never been with a woman before, let alone one as stunning as her. Feeling unsure of yourself, you tentatively kissed her back, unsure of what to do next.

“Do you want to do this, YN?”

You nod your head.

Prentiss continued to kiss you softly. Mostly on the center of your mouth, but then switching to the left and the right sides, keeping you guessing. You felt yourself become weak in the knees. 

“Let’s sit on the bed, YN.”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss.”

You both sat on the bed and continued to kiss. Prentiss’ hands exploring your body. Your mind and your arms begin to open up.

“Good girl, YN. Take off my jacket.”

You obey the orders given to you, carefully removing her jacket and placing it on the chair next to the bedside table. She sits there, still wearing a sleeveless blouse and her gun holster.

“Now take off your top, YN.”

You cautiously remove your top, wondering how she has such control over you. Your breasts are now exposed to the cool air, and the intense energy in the room causes your nipples to harden. Suddenly, a soft yet firm suction envelops your left nipple, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You've had boyfriends do this before, but never a woman. Prentiss continues to knead and suck on your breast while gently stroking your hair, creating an overwhelming sense of bliss.

Prentiss stopped and moved to the other breast. It was just as amazing. However, you where brought out of bliss with a sharp bite. “Ow,” you moaned.

“Pay attention,” Prentiss stated.

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you moaned again.

Prentiss finished with that breast and stood up and removed her shirt, bra, and gun holster. “Now you do me,” she smiled.

You attempted to replicate Prentiss’ actions on her, but your efforts fell short. Prentiss chuckled and giggled as you struggled, until you accidentally bit down too hard. She stopped and got up. You panicked.

“Pants off. Now!” Prentiss ordered.

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you jumped to your feet and stripped. She stood there and watched you sit back on the bed.

“Lay back.” You did as you were told. “Now don’t cum until I say or I will have to leave. Understand?”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you sigh. 

Prentiss flashed a sly smile before sinking to her knees. From this new vantage point, she spotted a drawer slightly open and couldn't help but peek inside. She found a small vibrating wand tucked away and placed it beside her feet. Starting at your thighs, she lavished kisses leading up to your glistening womanhood. You let out a soft moan as she got closer to your sensitive areas. With deft fingers, she parted your lips and exposed you fully to the world. "I bet your ex never did this," she said with a hint of smugness. "And I guarantee it won't be this good with anyone else."

Prentiss pressed her tongue against the sensitive spot above your clit, applying a constant and firm pressure. At the same time, she used her thumbs to press into your lips, causing a rush of sensation to flood through your body. It was a new experience for you, and you couldn't help but gasp in response. With a smile, Prentiss continued her oral exploration, slowly moving down from the flat spot towards your hood. She flicked her tongue gently against your hood, alternating between soft and medium pressure while also pulsing on your opening and lips. Your moans of pleasure grew louder with each movement she made.

“Don’t cum, YN. Don’t be a bad cadet!”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss, I will be a good cadet.” Cadet, where did that come from?!

Prentiss started licking your clit. This licking was a continued game of alternate pressures and circular licking. You hear a vibrator turn on.

SHIT! SHE FOUND MY STASH!

Prentiss moaned. 

“You naked girl, spread out for me, huh?” She did two licks around your clit. “Mmm, who’s wearing the pants, cadet?”

“You are, Agent Prentiss.”

“And who is the naked slut, cadet?”

“I am the naked slut, Agent Prentiss.”

“Who’s in command of this pussy, cadet?” 

“Agent Prentiss is the commander of this pussy.”

Prentiss then takes the vibrator and places it firmly on your clit. You start to buck. You are so close. You don’t want her to leave. Prentiss then takes two fingers and slides them into you, putting sudden and strong pressure on you G-Spot.”

“What do you want, cadet?”

“To cum, Agent Prentiss.”

“You may cum, as long as you ask nicely.”

“May I cum, Agent Prentiss?”

“Nicer.”

“May I please cum, Agent Prentiss?”

With that she presses hard against your clit with the vibrator and your g-spot with her fingers. You quake as a hard, loud, and wet orgasm rolled through you. You feel shaking and the last thing you see before passing out is a smiling Prentiss.

You came to and found Prentiss taking her phone from your computer. She is now fully dressed.

“How long was I out?”

“Thirty seconds or so. I got you a glass of water. It’s on your table. I’m going to leave, wheels up in the morning.”

“If you need any more phone help, let me know.”

“Oh, next time I need phone help I’ll make sure you do all the work.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can feel every thrust deep inside you. Each one makes a distinctive thud and shlick sound. Your orgasm is building, getting closer with every movement. You tightly grip onto the strapon as it fills you up. Nothing has ever felt as unyielding and solid as this before. The plug in your backside grinds against the bright red toy, adding to the intense pleasure of being penetrated.

“Come for me, Cadet.” Prentiss demanded.

You feel the grip of orgasm squeeze you tightly and pleasure erupts from within your core. Your body trembles and shivers as a powerful orgasm overcomes you. As it subsides, you take a moment to catch your breath.

"That was incredible," you exclaimed with gratitude.

"Rocking a holster isn't the only thing I'm good at," Prentiss replied with a sly grin on her face.

She gently pulls out your plug and carefully cleans you up with a towel from the bedside table. You thank her with a smile as she helps you stand up and put on a robe. Prentiss starts to get dressed, putting on her panties first before reaching for her pants.

“Why don’t we spend the day together? We can watch a movie?” You suggested.

“YN, we just finished fucking… you don’t need to ask me for a “movie” to watch,” she laughed.

“No really, Emily, stay with me.”

You two have been fucking feverishly and often in a kinky mist of desire and need for a few weeks at this point. Emily was not an odd name to call her, but it was new. You didn’t know if you should call her that or Prentiss.

“Why? We both finished and I’m sure you’re busy today. As am I.” Prentiss declared.

“Actually, it’s Saturday… at 11 am. I’m off today. Aren’t you? Or am I a lunchtime snack?” you smiled.

“You’re definitely satisfying my appetite,” she replied with a coy smile.

I stood up from the bed and handed her a shirt.

“So, we have underwear and shirts covered… I’ll grab some drinks. You can choose the movie.” You suggested.

Prentiss strolled into the living room and switched on Netflix while you headed towards the kitchen. You grabbed her favorite European beer from the fridge, excited for the chance to surprise her. Balancing both beverages in your hands, you made your way back to the couch where Prentiss had already pulled up "Une vie de chat," a French cartoon about a cat.

You sit down and offer her the beer.

“Thank you! This is my favorite beer! It’s only at that one German store downtown. How’d you know?”

“You mentioned it once. I thought it’d be a nice treat,” you smiled.

As the cat's misadventures unfold, you realize that you and Prentiss have gravitated towards each other on the spacious couch. You rest your head on her shoulder as you continue to watch the show together.

As she begins to say, "This is my favorite..." you rest your head on her shoulder. Emily grins and gently kisses the top of your forehead. It's a new experience for both of you, but it feels natural and perfect in that moment. Your stomach flutters with excitement, but it's a pleasant sensation that matches the rhythm of your heart. It's a mix of thrilling and serene feelings all at once.

"Emily, this is really nice," you say with a smile.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, YN. It's been a while since I've felt this relaxed. I could definitely get used to this," she replies, returning the smile.

"I have a proposition for you. In here, I have my Emily and in there..." you start, but she interrupts with a knowing smile.

"...you have Agent," she finished your sentence. You try to hide in her embrace, but she finds you anyway.

"Yes, YN, you can have your Emily out here and your Agent in there," she confirmed, snuggling into you as you both fall asleep watching TV together.

[roanofarcc]

THE OLD FASHIONED WAY

pairing. trevor lefkowtiz x alive!reader

summary. You had always regarded your ability to see ghosts as odd, until you met Sam and her eclectic group of ghosts.  

warnings. kind of/kind of not happy ending, ig? sad trevor :( angsty and a little flirty. reader gets stood up.

word count. 3.8K || masterlist

a/n. alive!reader HURTS but in the best way

trevor tag list. @marcos-scorpion , @youngdumbamericanteen

“I have one last, fun, interview question,” Sam said and you inwardly cringed. You had sat through so many job interviews that you knew a ‘fun’ question was normally anything but. Nevertheless, you smiled politely and nodded at her to continue asking. “What are your thoughts on ghosts?” 

You laughed, against your will. It was a reflexive response that you immediately regretted. “Sorry!” you rushed out. 

She didn’t seem put off by your laughing. “I know, it’s a ridiculous question. But the last guy that worked here…uh, this place may, potentially, be haunted. Not that I know, but there’s speculation. I just want to know how you feel about ghosts. Do you believe in them? Do you think it's all a bunch of mumbo-jumbo?” That was probably one of the oddest interview questions you’d ever been asked, but it was better than explaining how your weaknesses were really strengths. It also felt pointed. 

You didn’t know Sam and she didn’t know you, but the question made it sound like she knew your weird talent. And for some reason, you didn’t feel the embarrassment you normally did when someone brought up the concept of ghosts. There was something about Sam that compelled you to tell the truth, even against your better judgment. 

“Actually, that’s kind of a funny story-” you started, but were cut off.

“Samatha, when you are done, your assistance is needed in the television room. Someone believes it is his turn to watch another horrible film of space nonsense, but I distinctly recall it being my turn to watch those horrible women pick out whorish dresses for their weddings.” A woman appeared at the threshold of the entryway and the living room, dressed in a gown not from that century with her red locks pinned up in a curious updo. You were taken back, confused when your eyes fell on the man that stood beside her, dressed formally on top but lacking anything but socks and shoes on his bottom half. 

“First of all, Star Wars is not ‘space nonsense’ it's one of the biggest movies, like, ever,” the man started. “And second of all, you just got to watch your pick two days ago.” 

Sam cleared her throat, ignoring the two with a tight-lipped smile. You looked between the two, which seemed to confuse them. “I’m so sorry, will you excuse me for one second? I’ve got to take care of something really fast.” 

“Yeah, of course. Take your time. I don’t mess around when it comes to Star Wars either,” you said. 

The two people overlapped in with a ‘what?’ and an ‘excuse me?’ Sam stared at you wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape as she looked between the two figures behind her and you. “Hold on, can you see them?” 

It took a moment for you to understand why that was odd, which was too long if you were being honest. Obviously, no one was walking around in a gown like that or pantsless for no reason. You weren’t looking at cooky guests, but rather ghosts. Did nowhere not have any spirits lingering? It seemed like every job you worked or applied to had ghosts haunting the building. Though, you supposed out of all of the places, it did make the most sense for the old mansion to be haunted. 

But Sam wasn’t a ghost, but she seemed to be able to at least hear the ones in the threshold. “Can you see them?” you asked. 

“Y-Yeah. I can.” 

“Me too.” You have been able to see ghosts since you were little. As a child, most of your friends were the collection of ghosts that inhabited your childhood home. You thought you’d eventually outgrown it, but you never did. Now, nearly everywhere you ventured, you encountered dead people. It was interesting, a little obnoxious at times, and often made you feel like a freak of nature. But the woman in front of you could see them too; that was a first. 

Sam sat speechless for a moment before she said, “You’re hired.” 

--

You weren’t sure what to expect, working in the haunted mansion. In your lifetime, you’d encountered just about every kind of ghost, so you prepared yourself for anything when Sam introduced you. The Woodstone ghosts were an eclectic bunch, comprised of ghosts spanning nearly every decade. They were interesting, to say the least. But even if they had ended up being terrible, you were just happy to be around someone who shared your ability to see them. 

Sam and Jay had set you up at the front desk, putting you in charge of checking in guests. And when it was slow, the Woodstone ghosts often found their way to you if Sam was busy. 

One ghost in particular liked to hang around you, Trevor. He was the definition of an overgrown frat brother, with a lazy smirk and incessant flirtatious attitude. Every time he sauntered up to the front desk, calling your name, you made a habit of rolling your eyes. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, tone flat as you clicked away on the computer. 

Trevor leaned against the desk, his gaze burning into the side of your face. “How you doin’?” he said, and you sighed. 

“Watching Friends again, I see?” 

He blew air from his cheeks, deflating just slightly. “I’m a little rusty, okay?” 

“Rusty? At what?” 

“This,” he pointed between you and him. “Flirting.” 

You laughed and shook your head. “Is that what’s happening?” 

“Well, yeah. My flirting with Sam is useless because she and Jay are annoyingly sweet together. But you…” Trevor trailed on, a smirk on his lips and a certain cocky attitude wrapped up in his voice. 

“I hate to burst your bubble, no-pants, but we’re not exactly… compatible.” 

He raised his brows. “Because I’m dead?” You winced slightly. You didn’t want to be the one to say it; some ghosts were really sensitive to that, but Trevor didn’t seem too bothered. He shrugged like he saw it as no big deal. “I see that as a minor roadblock.” 

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes once more and shut him down, you were impressed at his relentlessness. 

-- 

You thought after a couple of weeks of working at Woodstone, Trevor’s ploy to win you over would fade alongside his attention. But he started to hang around you even more than when you first started, and you two had created a weird but kind of nice rapport of his continued flirting, peppered with more authentic conversations sprinkled in. He told you stories of his college days and the assholes he befriended before they ended up killing him in that every house. You told him about your own school days and how you were currently floating through the motions of young adulthood, trying to figure things out. 

“Scoring a job here was nice,” you said, comfortably resting your elbows on the front desk as Trevor stood across from you, listening intently. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam and Jay are pretty cool.” He paused, toying with the end of his tie. “So, you think you’ll stick around?” 

A small smile fell across your lips. “I think so. Things are pretty interesting around here.” 

“Well, if you ever want them to be more interesting, let me know.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked, raising your brows. 

“Oh yeah. I could rile up the basement ghosts, convince Thor minivans are enemy warships, you name it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “You are something else.” 

“Careful,” he teased. “That almost sounded like a compliment.” 

“It was supposed to,” you replied, not missing a beat. 

Trevor’s eyes widened just slightly, the smirk wiped right off his face and was replaced by something that resembled confusion with a slight fluster. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, “Oh.” You didn’t know ghosts could blush until that moment, even with their lack of blood, because Trevor’s cheeks tinted a light shade of pink as he made up some excuse to leave, mumbling something about helping Sass before he hurried away. 

You chuckled, resuming your work as another guest popped in. 

--

To say your dating life was pathetic would be a polite understatement. It was almost nonexistent, which is why when an attractive-looking person popped up on the dating app you forced yourself to get, you got your hopes up a little too high. Sam had encouraged you to go out on a date with them, excitingly helping you get ready and everything. 

You had been excited, believing it was a fresh start for you. First a new job and then a new romantic interest. Unfortunately, after waiting at the restaurant, alone, for a solid hour, you realized your dating life had quickly circled back around to being pathetic. Embarrassment didn’t quite cover how you felt as you left the restaurant and headed back home to wallow. 

The following day at work, the second you stepped inside the mansion, Sam was there with an excited energy, ready to hear all about your date. She grabbed your hand and dragged you into the kitchen before you could protest. She had made tea and had left off sweets Jay had made for the guests yesterday. The other ghosts lounged around the kitchen too, and you felt even more embarrassed to talk about your total bust of a date around all of them. 

But you slouched down in the one empty seat and let Sam push a mug of tea in front of you. 

“Tell me everything!” she insisted. 

You smiled politely but it didn’t stay on your face long before it morphed into a frown. “There’s not much to tell,” you sighed. “They stood me up.” 

“Wait, seriously?” Trevor said, seated beside you, brows furrowed. 

“No call, no apology, nothing. I sat there for an hour, like an idiot.” You rubbed your forehead, a scratchy feeling in your throat. There was no way you were going to cry in front of your boss and the ghosts. You tried to swallow down your emotions as you stared at the steam curling up from your tea. 

Sam’s frown deepened. “I’m so sorry.” 

“That is why you should meet suitors the old-fashioned way; not on the web,” Hetty said. 

“People meet online all of the time,” Sam said. “Bad dates happen, but you’ll find someone.” 

“At this rate, I’ll die alone,” you muttered before realizing your audience. “Sorry.” 

“Dying alone not so bad,” Thor said, in his own odd way to cheer you up. “Die here!”

“Thor,” Sam sighed but you laughed lightly. “I’d prefer no one else to die in the house.” 

The Viking shrugged. “Just suggestion.” 

You picked at your fingernails, the same pit that’s been in your stomach since your ruined dinner last night turned. 

Someone called from the entryway, the newest guest at the mansion. You moved to stand, but Sam waved you off. “I got it. You stay here, finish your tea.” You started to object, but she left before you could. With a huff, you sank back down in the chair. 

“You’re young, you got plenty of time. If I learned anything from being alive, dating in your twenties is usually a, what’s that phrase Jay uses?” 

Flower piped up, “A shit-show!” 

Alberta nodded. “Yeah, a shit-show. Brush it off and get back out there, while you’re still young and hot.” 

You smiled. “I’ll try. But you might be right, Hetty.” Maybe dating apps weren’t the way you were going to find someone. Old-fashioned dating sounded a little bit like a nightmare, but you figured it’d pay off more than mindless swiping through apps until another asshole stands you up. 

“I normally am,” Hetty said. 

The ghosts dispersed, going about their day-to-day while you lingered in the kitchen. Trevor stayed with you, quietly drumming his fingers against his bare knees. “At least you didn’t get catfished by a dead dude.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I did that once,” he said. “Catfished Jay’s sister, actually. I didn’t know she was Jay’s sister at first, obviously. But, uh, yeah. It was a whole mess. I tried to possess her friend’s body, but he ended up almost dying, so it was a total bust. Then Sam started putting the iPad in the drawer.” 

You laughed, that pit in your stomach easing just a little. “That’s insane,” you said. “A ghost on a dating app. For all know that’s why my date stood me up.” That sounded a little better than them just not being interested in meeting up with you in person. “But I doubt it.” 

Trevor shrugged. “It’s possible.” 

“I think it might just be me. I’ve never been great at the whole ‘dating’ thing.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Trevor said. “Looking like that, I’m surprised you don’t have every weekend booked.” 

You shook your head, a little flattered and a little exasperated. “Definitely not. But by the sounds of it, you did.” 

He smirked, throwing his hands up in a ‘what can I say’ gesture. “I got around, if that’s what you’re implying.”

It was odd, being around ghosts. To you, it never felt super different than hanging around livings. Besides the ability to touch them, the ghosts were every bit as real as Sam and Jay. You had started to forget that the Woodstone ghosts were just that, until they did something that knocked you back to reality. Trevor, being the most recent death, made it even harder to tell the difference. You could almost convince yourself he was living. 

“Did you ever have a serious relationship before you died?” you asked, curious. 

Trevor thought for a moment before he shook his head. “Nah. I was having too much fun being a bachelor and screwing around with my buddies to care about anything serious.” He paused, his smug attitude slipping away a little. “I didn’t know I was gonna end up dying before I could, though. I guess I would have liked to.” 

“You guess?” 

He looked a little zoned out, staring at something across the kitchen with his brows slightly knitted together. “I don’t know, I didn’t think much about it until I died.” 

Sympathy fell hard against your shoulders, and you itched to reach out to Trevor and offer some kind of comfort but you couldn’t. Instead, you said, “I’m sorry.” 

He tried to brush it off, regaining his normal composure but it didn’t shine in his eyes like it usually did. “It’s whatever. I don’t ever have to worry about going on a first date again, which is nice; those were always awful. And getting your heart broken probably sucks, so at least I’ll miss out on that.” 

“You never had your heart broken?” you asked, impressed. Even though you’ve never had a super-serious relationship, you had a tendency to fall for your crushes hard, which usually resulted in a broken heart. 

“Nope.” 

“That’s pretty lucky,” you said. If you could go the rest of your life without a broken heart, you thought that’d be nice. 

--

“It’s an interesting choice for a bachelor party, don’t you think?” Alberta said, but you had to ignore her because of the group of men you were checking in. You did agree though. The B&B was perfect for weddings and romantic weekend getaways. It was the kind of place you brought a family or your parents, not a bachelor party. But the men didn’t look like the kind to get too rowdy. The groom, in your small talk, had said they were just looking for a quiet weekend to unwind before the wedding chaos. They wanted to play video games and board games, drink whiskey, and catch whatever game was on TV. It was rather sweet, you thought. 

“You’re all set. Is there anything else I can do for you?” The groom said no before thanking you and leading his small group of friends up the stairs. They weren’t up there for long though. After they carried in their bags and settled in, the group was back in the entryway, waiting for a car to take them into town, where they planned to bar-hop for the evening. 

One of the groomsmen found himself at the front counter, handsome and smiley as he met your gaze. 

“Do you have any bar recommendations? So far, our ‘bar-crawl’ only consists of two bars,” the groomsman asked. 

You hummed in thought before replying, “The Black Dog is nice. It’s right on Main Street, if you’re heading downtown.” 

“Do you hang out there often?” 

“Sometimes.” 

“So it has pretty company then, huh?” Your eyes widened and a flustered laugh fell from your lips.

From a couple of feet away, some of the ghosts had gathered to observe the new guests. A loud scoff sounded from Trevor before he said, “Seriously?” 

You ignored him in favor of not looking crazy in front of the guests. “Oh, uh, no-” 

“Oh, come on,” the groomsman said. “I’d say you’re pretty, really pretty, actually.” 

Your face felt hot, and you tried to focus on the man in front of you, but the ghosts refused to stop talking. 

“Get a load of this guy,” Trevor huffed. 

“He’s got game, I’ll give him that,” Alberta said, to which Trevor scoffed once more. “What? Look at him.” 

“Thank you,” you said. 

The groomsman tilted his head to the side, pausing for a beat before he said, “Would it be too much to ask when you get off work?” 

“A little.” 

He held his hands up and chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

“This can’t seriously be working on you?” Trevor said. “Look at this guy! He’s got khakis and a polo on!” 

“At least he is wearing pants,” said Hetty. 

“Unbelievable.” Trevor got closer to the counter, much to your disdain. It was hard enough trying to look sane in front of the guests when the ghosts were talking to each other, let alone you. “You’re clearly out of his league-”

“Enough!” you said, raising your voice regrettably so. 

The groomsman looked at you oddly. “Whoa, sorry I-” 

“No!” you quickly cut him off. “Not you! I was, um, I-” 

“Dude, let’s go! The car’s here!” the groom shouted from the front door, beckoning the groomsman over. 

He shot you one last smile, dipping his head in goodbye as he followed his friends out of the mansion. The door closed loudly behind them before the house was drenched in cold silence. The ghosts all stood quietly as you glared. “How many times have you asked you guys not to talk to me when I’m helping guests?” 

“I don’t know if that counted as helping-” Sass started but shut his mouth when you shifted your glare onto him. 

You mumbled under your breath before you left the front counter and bee-lined for the kitchen. Sam and Jay were out for the evening, leaving the mansion in your hands. 

You only got a singular second to yourself before Trevor appeared in the room with you. Rubbing your fingers against your forehead, you asked him. “What was that?” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment before he shrugged and said, “He was flirting with you, clearly, and was out of your league like I said.” 

You stared at him, the way he fiddled with his tie and avoided your eyes. Then it hit you. “Are you jealous?” 

He blinked. “W-What? No…” By the way, his voice trailed off, you felt a terrible knot tangle in your stomach. 

“Trevor…” 

“Don’t,” he quickly said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that. I don’t…I don’t need that,” he gestured to the very clear glaze of pity in your eyes, but you couldn’t help it. You felt bad, really, terribly bad. 

A heavy breath slipped from your lips as you walked toward him, placing yourself right in front of him. His lips tugged downward in a still sadness that made your heart ache. “I’m really sorry.” 

Trevor sighed, “Don’t be. It’s…ugh.” He pressed his hands against his eyes, laughing bitterly at himself. “I’m dead,” he said. “You’re not.” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, unsure of what else to say. Maybe if you had met him in a different life, one where you both were either alive or dead, you’d take his flirting more to heart. But that wasn’t your current situation. You existed in different realms, untouchable but on each other’s paths. You’d never described your ability as cruel until that moment. 

“And I’m an idiot,” he added. 

“No, you’re not. If things were different…” Even saying the words aloud, they felt bitter on your tongue, doing more harm than good. You could tell by the wince that twitched in Trevor’s face. 

He smiled sadly, recovering from just the implication of your unfinished sentence. “But they’re not.” He let out a breathy sigh before he nodded his head toward the kitchen door. “I’m gonna go,” he said, slipping away before you could say anything else. 

-- 

The next couple of days passed uncomfortably inside the mansion. Trevor barely showed his face, and you felt worse and worse by the hour. Hetty and Issac kept you company at the front desk, making light conversation between their reassurance that Trevor would be okay. But your guilt weighed on you. You didn’t know how to make it better; you feared you wouldn’t be able to. 

But things came to a turn on the last day the bachelor party was there. The handsome groomsman had left his number on a slip of paper that you crumbled and shoved in your pocket, heavy on your side. You watched as they pulled out of the driveway and when you were alone, you unrolled the paper with his number, staring at it so intently you missed a presence appear beside you. 

“You should call him.” Trevor’s voice started you. You yelped and clutched your heart, which brought a small smile to his lips. 

“What?”

He sighed, shifting in his shoes and looking a little unsure of himself. “That’s his number, right?” You nodded. “You should call him.” 

“Oh, no-” 

Trevor cut you off. “Why not?” Because you felt bad, but you didn’t need to say that for Trevor to understand. “Don’t not call him because of me. Seriously, I…I lied when I said I’ve never had my heart broken.” 

You peered at him, confused. “Why?” 

“Because it sounded a little pathetic to say I crush hard. I liked my recess teacher so much that I cried like a baby when I had to move to fourth grade. In high school, my girlfriend of two weeks broke up with me because she was moving schools and I faked sick for three days because I was so, embarrassingly heartbroken. It’s just how I am,” he admitted, much to your surprise. “But I’ll get over it. It’s like not it would have worked out with me being dead and all. It was stupid.” 

“It wasn’t stupid,” you said. “And you’re not pathetic. It’s sweet, actually. Really sweet.” 

Trevor shrugged. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” He pointed a finger at the paper in your hands. “Call him, okay? You deserve a good date, the old-fashioned way.” 

And so you did, the old-fashioned way.

[skzxlevanter]

stray kids reaction with a shy and quiet s/o

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

warnings: petnames, besides that overall fluff, a bit possessive and suggestive if you squint, but not really

found this in my drafts so i decided to complete this cute little drabble :) I’m sorry that there’s not a lot of content coming rn, but i’m still preparing for two remaining finals so i just don’t have the mental capacity and time,,hope you guys understand :/

besides that, enjoy the drabble and feel free to check out other things from my blog :D

bang chan:

oh well he would be so flustered when you get flustered and the two of you would just be a flushing mess most of the time

he really tries everything to not make you uncomfortable, also ordering for you at places and he would be more than patient with you, not wanting to overwhelm you in any way, also being a 100% protective of you

but at the same time he’d try to make things with you that make you come of your shell a bit, things that you usually wouldn’t do, but still not overstepping any boundaries, always letting you know that he‘s here for you

and like i said, he kinda likes it when you get all shy and blushy, sometimes making you blush on purpose and teasing you endlessly for it <3

lee minho

even tho he’d seem quite confident at first, i honestly think that he could be a little set back by the fact that you barely showed affection, but when he figures out that you’re just shy he takes it to his full advance

he does not miss a chance to flutter you when he can by giving you intense glares, or locking you between the wall and him in traditional k-drama style just to see your reaction, but never going overboard because hurting you or making you uncomfortable would actually break his heart

still, he loves it so much when you start to blush and ramble all kind of things when you’re stunned, breaking out into his signature bunny-like smile once he can‘t hold back anymore

and like chan, he would be super patient with you, giving you the space you need until your comfortable around him, not minding at all

seo changbin:

i can see him throwing around endless jokes just to see you getting all shy

he’ll also flex his muscles right in front of you just to see your signature blush

but besides that, even tho he doesn’t really want to admit this, the fact that you’re shy makes him kinda shy too so it might be a bit awkward at first

but the more you open up to each other, the more comfortable you get around each other and the more confident the two of you get

will definitely gently hold your hand anytime ( if you’re okay with it) and loves the time he spends with you nevertheless

hwang hyunjin

he probably wouldn’t quite know how to handle it at first, leading to a lot of awkward laughs

but over time, he’ll grow used to it and takes his time to get to know you as good as he can, letting you get comfortable around him, inviting you to various activities with him like drawing, galleries, random walks, etc…

that is when he’ll start to give you lots of heartfelt compliments, showing how much he appreciates you and helping you to get more confident in your own skin

overall he’ll be so gentle and loving at all times, aware to not hurt your feelings, but still trying to help you grow in the best way possible

han jisung

at first so.many.awkward.silences.

han is still an introvert at heart, so at first he’d don’t know what to do, a lot of doubts about himself rising up, buy when he realizes that it is just how you are, he’ll step up and warm up rather quickly

he’ll start talking non-stop over things he likes, asking you lots of questions while he’s at it to include you too

tries to make you laugh all the time, secretly loves how cute you look when you’re shy and get that little blush on your cheeks

but be ready to fight over who has to order or call people because that is something you’d both despise

lee felix

he’d be so gentle with you. seriously. he would act like you’re about to break any second

he’d immediately notice when you’re uncomfortable, not shying away from speaking up for you when you are and is just constantly making sure you’re okay

“everything alright, love?” // “anything on your mind, you look like something is off?” // “should i speak to them for you?”

in conclusion he will not let anyone make you uncomfortable, including himself, so he always watches your reactions and makes sure to never overstep your boundaries ever <3

kim seungmin

he can be such a menace,, exactly knowing how to push your buttons and thoroughly enjoying when you get all shy and will never stop teasing you

he also loves to take your shyness to his advantage, knowing you love to bury your flushed face in his neck and cuddle into him in embarrassment, so he basically can get affection without actually having to ask for it ;)

but like the others,, he’ll never hurt you, he knows when to stop and won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with

being at public places will also contain a lot of teasing, especially when it comes to ordering something, but in the end he’ll order for you and get you everything you want because he’s a sucker for you

yang jeongin

probably starts to giggle every time you visibly get shy over something, causing him to blush a bit himself

with him there always be a very fine line between him teasing and pushing you a bit out of your comfort zone and him getting shy too,,,but that actually makes it more easy for you to get comfortable, seeing that he can get all blushy and all over the place too

the relationship would therefore be pretty balanced, the two of you respecting each other’s boundaries but also growing together too, maybe even setting small challenges to achieve from time to time to get a bit more confident

but in the end, dates would mostly end up in quiet places or just at home, where the two of you are all in private and comfortable without a soul (be aware of incidents with the other boys tho) interrupting you

masterlist

[luveline]

I love your KBD universe it is soo adorable!! All the kids are written so cutely! I relate to Avery so much! I was thinking about what if mom is super pregnant and she always wants to be near Steve, like she almost doesn’t even want him out her line of sight. Always wanting to touch him and get kisses from him. Love your blog!!

kisses before dinner ♡ you're pregnant and steve is lovely

There is a silver lining to being eight months pregnant (that isn't the baby at the end) —your husband. 

Steve gets soft. When the physical evidence of your pregnancy becomes unignorable, and then glaringly obvious, he treats you with exceptional care, love and tenderness. You can't get enough of it or him. 

And you're like a lost puppy when he's not near. “Steve,” you say, feeling rather morose about the whole thing, “where are you?” 

“In the kitchen! Do you want something?” 

No, you think, just you. “What are you doing?” 

“Babe, I'm making you and Ave your drinks!” A telltale plink of ice cubes knocking against glass follows. “Don't get up, okay?” 

You squeeze Avery's hand where it's held in yours. “Does he think I'll explode?” 

She giggles, her almond eyes lit with her laughter. “Maybe, mom.” 

“Do you think I'll explode?” 

“No way. You didn't explode before.” 

“‘Xactly.” You'd offer to carry her, or simply scoop her up without asking, but being so pregnant actually does feel like you're going to explode sometimes and you figure it's a bad idea. “Let's go see what he's doing.” 

You and Avery pick over Dove's tea party, abandoned sadly in the middle of the living room, and make your way into the kitchen, which is less hecticly messy but a tad grimy after a long week. Grease clings to the stove top and there's a cherry red stain down the front of the refrigerator. Death of a stolen popsicle. 

Steve sighs when he sees you, too much love around his eyes for any believability when he chides, “You can't sit down. It's impossible.” 

You push yourself back against the counter next to his hip. Avery does the same immediately, giving him a similar look, you're sure. 

He tries to hide his smile with a sip of Avery's too full drink. “Here,” he says when it's at a safer level, “apple juice for you. And ice, princess.” 

“Thank you,” she says, eyes wide as her open palms. She takes it and drinks at it greedily, the sweet taste of concentrated sugar enough to steal her attention. She walks out of the kitchen calling for Beth. “Come have some juice!” 

“That's adorable,” Steve says. 

“You tend to make them that way.” 

He throws an arm against his forehead, slouching beside you, the other wrapping behind your back. “I know. It's exhausting.” 

You spy your youngest under the kitchen table. The girls are fascinated with alcoves and small spaces. If they can fit into a nook, they will, and if they can't, they'll squeeze in anyhow. She breathes through her mouth over a pad of paper with a shard of a crayon in hand, drawing rather intricate things, considering her age. 

“Are those flowers?” you whisper. 

“Think so…” Steve lifts his head high to kiss the top of yours, his arm moving up to your shoulders. He rubs at them like he's trying to relieve a pressure you haven't announced. “You really need to stop getting up all the time. You're at risk–” 

“No, the doctor said if I'm not careful I'd put myself at risk.”

“And what are you doing?” he asks, voice like velvet, smooth and soft as he looks behind your ear. He must see something, petting away a flyaway or a loose strand or something, his touch as tender as his voice. 

You tilt your head away from him. After as long in love with one another as you have been, he knows you're asking for something rather than moving away, and he leans in again to kiss your cheek, rubbing behind your ear all the while. 

“Let's go sit down,” he suggests. 

“In a second.” 

You're terrible lately but it's all his fault. You crave his affection both big and small, all the time, and in every place. You'll be off work any day now and you're sure you'll spend that time soaking him in while he runs ragged trying to get things ready. You've done it before. Steve in the grocery store looking for a hundred different things while you draw stars into the backs of his hand, or trying to fix the baby gate onto the wall while you sit on the stairs making googly eyes at him. 

“My boy,” you say stupidly, wrapping your arms around his neck. Regrettably, he can't continue to dote on you like that, but it prompts him to hug you as close as he can manage. “I love you.” You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “You smell really nice.” 

“I love you too.” Pine, today. Fresh. “I see what's happening.” 

“What's happening?” 

You think he's going to put you down. The baby hormones are making you clingy, he might say, but he doesn't. “You've realised how hot I am. You're late, but I'll forgive you. You know, ‘cos of your predicament.” 

“Thank you,” you say, kissing his neck gently. 

You leave a series of butterfly kisses down the column of his neck before squishing yourself into the curve of it, resting too much weight on him. He takes it all without complaint, hugging you tighter, the distension of your bump a beach ball between you that makes you unfortunately shorter, bending as you are. 

His breath is a pleased sound in your ear, but he doesn't say anything. You hug until you have a strange pain in your neck; he encourages you away from him like he can sense it. 

“You okay?” he asks, thumb under your eye, a millionth sweet touch to add to the mountain. 

“I'm great.” 

“Yeah?” He holds you in place and kisses you. “Love you,” he says, his bottom lip jutting against yours. He kisses you again, and then he pulls away completely, a hand between you both the only tether. “Time to sit down. I'm gonna take your blood pressure.” 

There's no need. If anything, the way he's looking at you might give an inaccurate reading, but you think of the fawning and fretting and the rough of his fingertips digging into the top of your arm and smile, giddy. “‘Kay.” 

“Come on, Dovey, let's go be mommy's doctor,” he calls to Dove. 

In a rather uncharacteristic episode of actually listening, she abandons her crayons and takes his offered hand. He shoots you a quick smirk, as if to say, Yeah, I did that. It's stupid and it makes you laugh, because you couldn't love him much more than this. 

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Genshin Guys with an S/O Dealing with Sensory Overload (Wriothesley, Diluc, Alhaitham, Neuvillette)

Please note that this is all from my experience. Obviously not everyone is going to experience it like this. Basically this is me shamelessly self-inserting again. I mean, what's new?

I'm going to format this as kind of scenarios in bullet point form, rather than my usual

CW: hurt/comfort, neurodivergent reader

Wriothesly x gn!reader, Diluc x gn!reader, Alhaitham x gn!reader, Neuvillette x gn!reader

Requests and Ask Box is OPEN

Wriothesley

Sensory overload isn't really that uncommon around Wriothesly

And it's not because he's loud or anything, but the Fortress of Meropide isn't a quiet place. I imagine there's always a lot of little sounds even at night. Stuff like dripping pipes, hissing steam, little things

And even if you're not hanging out at Fortress, the city isn't even much quieter

Thankfully he's the perceptive, people-smart type so there's no way in hell sensory overload is getting past him

Tight fists, pinched eyebrows, flinching at loud noises, yeah, he ain't missin' that shit

When he notices you doing that he's quick to finish whatever conversation he's in and bringing you to a quieter location

He's either soundproofed his room or set aside some space in the fortress where you can be alone in the quiet. If you need music to avoid complete and total quiet he has some soft records for you to listen to

Diluc

Diluc has an easier time dealing with the sensory overload

When the day has left you worn out, overloaded, and on edge, wincing at even soft noises, you seek out Diluc

Of course, if you're helping/hanging out at the Angel's Share, chances are he's already at least noticed your reactions to the ambient chaos

If he can't get away from the bar, he hands you the keys to his room and tells you to go rest, that he'll be up when he's free

At the Winery, he's left instructions that even if he's not there, you should be brought to a quiet out of the way room (ehem, his room) and given whatever you need

In either location, as soon as he's free he's coming to make sure you're alright. He usually has something for your headache, knowing that you've probably got one

If you let him, he'll want to hold you, rubbing circles into your shoulder. But if you need space, he'll leave you be once

More than anything he's intent on making any of his spaces safe and comfortable for you

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is an asshole and doesn't people, but when it comes to sensory overload he's 100% sympathetic

I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it's something he deals with on the regular

It's also not something you can hide from him (in fact you might go to him because he's a quiet person who has no issues telling anyone who would bother you to go sit on it)

The first thing he does is kick whoever he's talking to out of the room. Unlike Wrio, he doesn't bother wrapping up the conversation, he just tells them to leave

If you're at his house, Kaveh gets told to find a different room to occupy and Kaveh actually listens (I mean, Kaveh is a nice guy who isn't going to be mean to you just to give his roommate the metaphorical middle finger. Really, neither of them are.)

Once he's gotten rid of any annoyances, he's handing over his headphones

He also helps darken the room your in (modifications Kaveh helped with--I feel like both of them are far more willing to accommodate you than each other, even if it means working together)

After that, he just leaves you alone. If you have a headache, he'll find something to help, but he just goes to read

If you're in a place where he can't just shoo people away and remove any offending sensations, he goes out of his way to comfort you (which took him forever to figure out how to do, but he likes you so it's worth the effort). Even if it's just lending you headphones while he takes you by the hand and leads you through the city

Neuvillette

Honestly, it takes Neuvie a while to get used to a S/O who is prone to Sensory Overload

He's not human and is very much accustomed to the chaos of the Opera Epiclese, Palais Mermonia, and Fontaine City in general

So when Sedene lets you in to Neuvie's office (he's left instructions that unless he's in a conversation you can't be privy to, you're just to be let in) and you're nearly in tears, he's very concerned

Anything he's doing is immediately set to the side so he can figure out what's wrong

When he figures out that your brain just can't process any more input without feeling like it's about to spontaneously combust, he's a little confused, but he focuses more on how to help you

First things first, he has you hydrate while he tells Sedene to not let anyone in unless it's an emergency and finishes up whatever he's doing. If you're not feeling well, he wants to be able to focus his attention on you

Then he takes you somewhere quieter and darker

Eventually, much like Diluc and Wrio, he sets aside a place for you to go. He makes sure you can keep it as dark and quiet as you want, while making sure any sensory things you gravitate to are easily accessed

On days where you decide to take a nap, it's not uncommon to see him wrapped around you, letting his naturally cool temperature soothe you

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 22: COCKWARMING [LOGAN SARGEANT X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!Logan and dom!reader. If you are under 18 or uninterested, scroll past. Alternatively, if you like what you see here then consider checking out my blog :))

This work forms part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail on my blog so if you have any thoughts, feel free to stop by!

(Since it's COTA, I figured we should have some Logan thoughts)

It's no secret that Logan has had a tough season, and that he's being very very hard on himself about it. And honestly I think the best thing anyone could do for him is just give him a safe space?

Logan feels so much pressure to perform, to be good for Williams, to represent his country, to prove himself, to perform for his family and himself and it just... it gets too much for him sometimes. When the race goes badly, or even just mediocrely. He gets so stuck in his own head and he doesn't need someone to try and distract him, he needs someone to just give him a safe space where he doesn't have to perform like that.

And cockwarming is perfect for that?

He starts to ask for it actually, starts to come to you after races and fall into your arms, mumbling against your ear and asking if you two can spend the night in the hotel and not go out. You say yes of course, knowing that Logan needs quiet time.

He holds your hand the whole trip to the hotel, trying to keep it together in front of the team but you can see how he's struggling. It's all reaching the point where he's put too much pressure on himself for too long and now something has to give.

When you get to the hotel, he says he's going to have a bath by himself, clearing trying to tell you he needs a moment and so you agree of course, telling him you'll order room service in the mean time.

You're alone in the hotel room for all of ten minutes before you hear crying from the bathroom, and two minutes later he's calling for you. You have to wait until he calls, because you know how much trust it takes for Logan to let someone see him like this. If you go before he asks, he'll feel violated and uncertain if he can leave the door unlocked anymore. You would never ever do that to him.

So you wait until he calls, and then go.

You find him sitting in the bath, crying with his knees brought up to his chest. When he spots you, he just mumbles, " 'm sorry, it's just... I dont know it's all so much."

Your heart breaks for him, and rather than say anything you just hold your hand out for him to take. There's nothing you can say, but you can look after him.

You dry him off, ignoring that tears are still running down his cheeks and then take him to the bedroom. He hides under the blankets with you, resting against your chest and talking about his day. He tells you how sad and disappointed he is, how much he wishes he could do better, how much of a disappointment he is.

You let him talk, kissing his head and rubbing his back at the same time to give him some extra comfort. He talks himself hoarse, letting himself complain and rant and have a little pity party because he needs to be allowed to feel those things.

When he stops talking, he stays cuddled against your chest. After a little while, he looks up at you and gives you a small smile, thanking you for listening and saying he loves you. You give him a little kiss, promising him that you love him too and that you're always willing to listen to him.

It's then that he moves up and requests some more kisses, turning into a slow makeout session. You know where this is going, and you're more than happy with that.

"Can we?" logan asks, a little smile on his face.

"Of course we can," you tell him, always happy to be close to him.

So you stroke him to hardness, kissing away his little whines and shaky breathes until he's ready for more.

It's so slow as he enters you, inch by inch until eventually he's as far as he can go and then he just collapses against you. You hold him close, trading soft kisses and just enjoying being close.

You two will stay like that until Logan gets soft enough to slip out, and then you'll warm up the room service you ordered and talk about anything except racing.

But for now, Logan is happy and safe in your arms, finally able to let everything go and just enjoy being close to you.