#but holding it in and repressing it NEVER FUCKING HELPS. why do i DO THIS SHIT.

[badgirlcoven-official]

"Willow is a bad character because she's a mary sue" me when I missed the entire point of the show

[ghostzzy]

did she see this post lol

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

How would the aot boys react if they heard a rumor that reader has a crush on them

i heard a rumor….

eren jaeger is so nosey when he hears the rumor going around. he’s intrigued by your crush on him and he wants to know every little detail, of course by everyone else and not you. he gathers everyone’s opinion and saves you for last. he doesn’t beat around the bush; he tells you he knows that you’re crushing hardcore on him. he’s playful and witty, trying to get you all flustered.

armin arlert, bless his heart, tries to be cool about it. and he does a fairly good job you think. he often finds ways to get you two alone but he never makes a bold move. he asks if he can help you do things, tries to find common interests, etc. you know he knows because you find him trying to spend too much time with you, not that you’re complaining. he just lets things take their course.

jean kirsteins plays the disinterested, too-cool-for-you character. he’s damn good at it too. his actions and short replies hurt your ego and your heart. so, you give him the same treatment back. this, he’s not a fan of. he demands that you tell him why you’re treating him like this and you respond that you’re just dishing out what he is. that makes him go ‘oh’ and it results in a very around the bush way of telling you he has some sort of feelings for you but he was trying to repress it.

connie springer grins from ear to ear for days end when he hears the news. he was already crushing on you big time and now that you like him back, he’s convinced your soulmate. shamelessly, connie asks (it’s more of a statement) that you go on a date. you cant believe he knows. you want to just disappear when he confronts you but he doesn’t understand why. “am i coming on too strong? hold on, i can get weak in the knees real quick.”

levi ackerman acts like he doesn’t know about your feelings for him. his behavior isn’t much different than when he didn’t know- his eye’s just tend to linger on you a bit longer. his gaze makes you feel…violated. it’s like he’s looking right through you or undressing you with his eyes. hard to tell. he continues driving you crazy in various subtle ways until you can’t take it anymore and wind up confessing at him in a ‘why are you doing this to me’ moment. he just laughs.

reiner braun's interest is piqued, that's for sure. he's not so smooth about it, always turning into a flustered mess when he's around you. you, now beginning to panic he knows your secret, turn into a shorter flustered mess. your awkwardness makes all your friends laugh and they just tease you more, which causes more stuttering and the cycle repeats. eren's the one who finally sets you up, not able to bare any more of reiner's incoherence.

bertholdt hoover makes the brave decision of telling you how he feels. he doesn't pick the greatest time. he tells you in front of all your friends and that leaves you feeling a little pressured. so, you get up and drag him away from everyone. the two of you share a raw confessional in peace and quiet. it leaves your heart full.

zeke jaeger texts you as soon as eren tells him. he doesn't wait for any more clarification. the text reads, heard you're basically in love with me. I'll pick you up later: a man of his word, he comes and picks you up. you try to him he's ridiculous but he knows you're his future wife.

erwin smith does his best to avoid you. a crush is meaningless to him.but fuck, the way you look at him makes his heart stop. he's beginning to think that there's something wrong with him- he can't breathe when you're around him. one night, he has too much wine to drink and accidentally lets it slip that he knows. he decides he doesn't care anymore and kisses you on the forehead, leaving you confused about the way he feels about you.

porco galliard's too fucking cocky. he starts spreading the rumor himself once he gets wind of it. he tells everyone he knows, bragging about it over and over. the rumor makes it's way back to you and you want to cry. so, that's what you do. you know everyone knows, so he must know. porco catches you crying and is upset with himself for spreading it. he didn't know you'd be so embarassed, considering he ‘obviously feels the same way’

please go read my jean fic 🤍

[alchemistc]

Buck's halfway through his third cup of startlingly bad coffee when Josh pushes the door to the breakroom open, looking mildly concerned in the half second before someone else looms over his shoulder.

He's too numb to do much more than take another sip of coffee as he watches Josh usher Tommy in.

The door clicks shut behind him. Buck wonders for a moment if Tommy's ever actually been to the new dispatch headquarters before. If he ever went to the old one, charming grin on his face while he waited for Abby to finish up so he could take her out, drive her home while her car was in the shop - but no, Tommy would have worked on it himself, maybe.

Had Josh recognized him, that first time, with half of his soot on Buck's face, and just never said anything?

The silence is tense. They're in a fishbowl, no room to lash out even if either of them wanted to because more than half the people working in this place can see them if they just tip their head to the side.

"How can I help?"

It's - his voice is strained, scared, worried. Buck doesn't have a single guess as to how he knows. Maybe Bobby. It's the only person he can think of who would have -.

Buck snorts. "I rebounded with a serial killer who just kidnapped my sister and my baby niece or nephew. I don't - I'm not sure what you want."

He glances up just in time to see the end of Tommy's grimace. Good. He's not sure how much more disastrous of a choice he could have made to try to get Tommy out of his system, but at least it hurts him to know. At least...

"Do you want me to go?"

Buck can't remember anyone asking, before. Usually they just... leave. Get up, walk out, disappear. Tommy bubbled Buck five times in three months. Buck went through seven bags of flour before he drove Eddie to the airport.

His voice shakes on his "No," and Tommy is there, all of the sudden, his hand hovering just over Buck's shoulder, like he realized halfway there it might not be welcome. "Do you still think I need to keep looking for someone better than you?"

It'd been seeing Tommy out with a guy that'd prompted him to stop fucking baking and make an effort to just...get over it But with Eddie away, and the rest of the 118 so wrapped up in their lives, there weren't a whole lot of outlets for that. And it's been easy to willfully misinterpret Tommy's breakup speech. Or - interpret it in the most hurtful way possible.

"Is this what you want to do right now?" Tommy asks, even and measured. "Will this help?"

"I want my sister back!"

Tommy takes a step back. His hands shift to his pockets, and Buck just wants -

"Why are you here?"

He tips his head up. Holds Tommy's gaze. Tommy flounders in a way Buck's never seen before.

He looks - tired. Good. White Henley under a flannel Buck had always told him brought out his eyes. The jeans Buck had stolen once or twice because they made his ass look good. His hair's grown in at the sides, and the sprinkling of greys are more obvious than the last time he'd seen it this length.

"I just... didn't want you to be alone."

Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. He wants to laugh, but he's terrified if he starts he won't be able to hold in the fear. "When did that change?"

Tommy gnaws on his cheek. "You have so many people, Buck. You have -."

"I don't want emotional repression Tommy here, so if you're just here to keep me distracted until someone else can be here you should just... go."

Something flashes in his gaze. Anger, maybe. Terror.

"Please let me stay."

It hurts, to hear it. It hurts to hear the trepidation in his voice as he says it. Buck just wants to pull him in, tuck his face into the curve of his neck, soak in the warmth of his arms.

Buck spends too long staring at his knees. Long enough for Tommy to shift, to sigh, to nod his head decisively out of the corner of Buck's eye.

The word is stuck in his throat. Has been for months, since Tommy looked at him with teary eyes and walked away.

"I won't be able to let you go again."

He's already half turned away. Buck can only see half his expression as his eyes dip closed. He swallows. Nods, again.

Buck can't watch him push back through that door, so he stares at the toes of his boots until his vision starts to blur.

A second pair of toes swim into his eyeline. A hand shifts through his curls, snagging on knots, digging towards his scalp, and he can't quite bite back the sob. The arms that reach for him are warm, big and familiar, and Buck gives himself over to the panic and the fear that have been clawing at his chest for hours now. Tommy says something - whispers it into the air above Buck's head over and over, but Buck can't - he just -

He presses his face into Tommy's stomach, digs his fingers into the back of his shirt, sucks in horrible, gasping breaths. It's not enough. Nothing will be until he's got Maddie in his arms.

But it's more than he had an hour ago.

"Stay," he manages, and Tommy's fingers curl around Buck's neck and hold.

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

MIDNIGHT TROUBLES

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!

warnings: swearing, fluff (i guess?) angst, mentions to the giggidy (nothing actually happens), derogatory terms/names used

A/N: i was sleep deprived and cluelesss when writing this so enjoy :)

part two: meet me at midnight | part three: its not midnight anymore

You've been friends with Luke Castellan since the day you showed up at camp drenched in water and he showed you around. You've been inseparable since then - y/n and Luke. Luke and y/n, you were a package deal, wherever one went the other followed.

On this particular day you had seated yourself down on a sunny patch of grass to sing. Luke had settled himself a few feet away from you pretending not to listen as your lips parted and sound sweeter than any strawberry escaped your mouth.

His eyes shut peacefully as your song washes over him. He's always loved your singing, everyone does, your song can seem to stop time for a few moments. But Luke likes to think he loves it the most - he's your best friend, of course he gets that right.

Once you finish singing you open your eyes and Luke is staring at you with pure amazement and... something else you can't quite place. Whatever it is, it's gone in a blink. "That was beautiful, y/n," he smiles.

"Like you," you tease standing up and reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You do know you don't have to sit with me and listen every time I sing don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. But I want to," Luke says, standing up with you and pulling you into a side hug. "You've got a really beautiful voice y/n."

You brush it off and wrap your arm around his waist walking along with him. "Oh but its not as beautiful as yours," you joke and Luke's laugh vibrates through you sending a jolt of tingles and a wave of repressed feelings.

You watch as Luke laughs and can't help but smile yourself. You and Luke have been deemed the camp's Mom and Dad. If anything was wrong and you didn't want to take it to Mr D or Chiron the campers would go to you two, Apollo and Hermes cabin counsellors. That's when the rumours started. Luke and y/n are dating. Although you've both denied it several times the campers never listened and you were dubbed Mom and Dad.

Even though you denied it, a small- a medium- okay a pretty huge part of you wants it to be true. I mean who wouldn't want Luke Castellan to be their boyfriend? He has offers piling up every day from girls. You're pretty sure you've even seen someone offer him a fucking apple with the words 'will you go out with me' carved into it. Luke said no of course - she was a frigging psycho - but even then he never said yes to any of the offers, the ones that you knew about anyway.

"I got patrol tonight after the campfire," you sigh and break away from Luke to give a younger boy from Aphrodite a hug when he showed you his result from arts and crafts. Not noticing how Luke tenses beside you until the boy runs off to tell his friends you hugged him.

"I'll come with you, there's bound to be some shit heads sneaking off to go hook up," he rolls his eyes looking directly at some Ares camper who you've both caught several times. "And besides, gods know you couldn't handle the dark without me."

You scowl at Luke smacking him. "Haha very funny, a daughter of the sun god is afraid of the dark, it's hilarious." Luke just grins and catches your hand against his chest, holding it there, when you go to hit him again. Your laughter fades and you both just stare at each other for a moment neither of you wanting to break it but also wanting to admit to the other that there was something happening.

Luke clears his throat and drops your hand gently. "Whatever loser, you're the one stuck with me," you tease and kiss his cheek. Walking away before you lose your nerve. Holy shit why'd you do that? you scream inside your head. What the fuck? Why? Why? You couldn't have walked away normally, but noooo you had to kiss his fucking cheek.

You press the palm of your hands into your eyes and accidentally slam into someone. "Shit sorry!" you cry out looking down to see the poor camper you practically ran over.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Percy says looking up at you and then over at Luke who hasn't moved since you walked away. "Did you break him or something?"

"Or something," you mutter, helping Percy up. "Sorry again, Percy." You force a smile onto your face and sigh as you look at Luke.

"Yeaaah, you messed him up damn." Percy drawls. "Like really messed him up. Damn what did you do? Did you like, kick him in the balls or something?"

"Percy!" you shout shutting him up. He doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic when he says sorry and then scurries off when Grover calls out to him.

Sighing, you shake your head and grumble to yourself about its going to be hella awkward tonight.

~~~

Something was wrong with Luke's heart. It hadn't stopped beating wildly since y/n had kissed him on the cheek and he was trying to control his erratic pulse when he rises up the steps to your cabin.

He knocks twice on the door and takes a deep breath when you open the door and look up at him. The deep breath is cut short when he notices you're wearing his hoodie. You smile up at him and ask, "you ready to go catch some horny teens?"

He nods and lets you lead the way. "Sure, yep, let's go Sunflower." You both walk in silence for the first two minutes before Luke works up the courage to say, "nice hoodie, there by the way, it matches your flashlight."

You twist around and grin ignoring his dig at your flashlight - it's white with a bunch of sunflowers hand painted on. "Yeah, some super, cool, really annoying guy gave it to me." Luke's eyebrow arches and you roll your eyes. "Fine, I stole it from the guy, cause it's soft and smells nice," you mumble that last part and Luke tilts his head at you in question.

"What was that last part?"

"It's soft?"

"No, the other part?"

You're quiet for a moment before mumbling, "it smells..... nice."

Luke practically stops breathing, but covers it up with a smirk. "You think I smell nice?"

You internally slap yourself. "Yes," you quietly answer. Well you know what? When you thought it was going to be awkward earlier? That's nothing compared to the tension right now.

A loud moan comes from up ahead behind the trees and you sigh tugging the hoodie closer before running up ahead to break up whatever situation is happening.

"Hey!" you yell out to the two campers whose clothes are dishevelled and hair all mussed up. "Get back to your cabins! And when I say cabins I mean your own cabin." The two kids scramble away back to their cabins swearing.

"Fuckers," Luke mutters from behind you. "I swear they always choose the same spot."

You spin around and smile, "they'll be back don't worry, you can bust them next time."

After you both make your rounds, catching three other couples, you end up in a secluded spot near the lake.

"So," you start looking out to the water, smiling softly. "What do you wanna talk about?" You shove the flashlight in the front pocket just soaking in the moonlight - and besides Luke's here, he protects you from the dark.

Luke looks over at you and steps closer wrapping a hand around each of your - well technically his - hoodie's drawstrings. "I don't really know..." he trails off and then looks down at you, your eyes shining in the moonlight. And then something must've possessed him because he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

You look up at him in surprise. "What was that for?" You ask, noticing how Luke's eyes shine with affection.

"Just paying you back for earlier."

You both freeze then - not tensing up but just not moving. Staying in the small bubble that you two have created for yourselves. The comfort of the silence that surrounds you both covers you like a blanket.

Your faces inch closer, your breaths mingling as your eyes meet and you swear you can hear your heartbeat. Can Luke hear how loud your heart is beating? Like seriously? It's so loud.

Everything seems perfect before a loud laugh erupts in the distance. You sigh and pull away from him and start walking over to where the noise came from. Were you going to kiss just then? Holy shit. Was that actually happening?

Luke's presence at your side sends you into a tailspin. Does he like you? Or was he only doing that out of pity. You reach into the hoodie to pull out your flashlight but a hand wraps around your own and you skid to a stop, looking down at Luke's hand intertwined with yours.

Luke doesn't stop though, he just keeps walking, hopefully not noticing how red your cheeks are right now.

You both round the path and find a girl sitting on a fallen log hidden in the trees, she's wrapped in nothing but a blanket she must've brought from her cabin. When the girl sees you - well more like see's Luke - her eyes brighten up.

"Oh Luke! You're finally here! I was waiting for you." A frown instantly replaces the soft smile you have on your face.

"What?" Your voice is quiet and confused.

The girl shoots you a smug look. "What? Did you actually think Luke wanted to spend time with you tonight?" She smirks. "He was only killing time to spend it with me."

What?

You know what the girl is saying is wrong but when you look at Luke you almost start crying. He's quiet at your side staring harshly at the girl. He's not denying it. He's not denying it!

"Lukey and I have plans now bitch-girl, leave." Your teeth clench so tightly you're afraid you're gonna break your jaw. Why isn't Luke SAYING ANYTHING??

You stare frigidly at the girl. "Look, I wanna say Gina..?" she asks purposely misnaming you.

"It's y/n."

"Right that's what I said," she smirks. "Now unless you want to watch me and Luke roll around on the ground here I suggest you leave."

You stay put fighting your ground. Why is Luke not saying anything??

"Ooh we've got a bit of a slut on our hands do we? Damn Gina, I didn't know you were into kinky shit."

"I don't-"

She cuts you off. "It's fine I don't mind you watching like the whore you are."

WHY ISN'T LUKE SAYING ANYTHING?

The girl turns her eyes on Luke again. "I'm waiting for you Luke. Tell her to piss off. Or better yet, tell her that we've been sleeping together."

Luke stays quiet, his eyes locked on the girl.

What. The. Fuck?

The girl opens her mouth to start again but you turn around before she can say anything else.

"Y'know what? I'll leave you two to it," you spit, forcing the tears that spring to your eyes to stop.

"Wait y/n!" Luke calls out suddenly, but you've already launched into a sprint not caring what he has to say now. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it.

Tears blur your eyes and you struggle to pull out your flashlight, tripping over a tree root and stumbling to the ground. You face plant onto the ground and even though you're wearing long pants you can feel your skin being torn.

It's dark and cold

You have scratches along your face and arms - where the hoodie pushed up - everything burns your skin, your face, your eyes, your heart.

He didn't deny it.

You pat around looking for your flashlight. No, no, no, no, no. It can't be lost, no! Luke painted it for you, when you first came to camp and when he found out you were afraid of the dark.

Luke made that. Your Luke made tha-

Your face crumples.

Luke.

He didn't deny it. He didn't say anything. He didn't stop her.

Your heart heavy as you do so, you stand up, fighting the new wave of tears that threaten to overcome you.

A chill hits you and you pull the dirty hoodie closer. It still smells like Luke.

And...

And its dark...

Shit.

Anger pools deep in your gut. She called you a slut and a whore.

That bitch better watch it.....

©strawberries-and-summer-days

a/n: lemme know if you want a part two!!

[sashi-ya]

𝑩𝒚𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒚𝒂 & 𝑮𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒔/𝒐

🏹 request: anon. For the January requests !! I wanted to ask if you could write some Byakuya and/or Gin head cannons for what they would be like with an s/o who seems to be a degenerate and is constantly acting kinky, only to be inexperienced when it comes to the real thing :> //you can ignore this if you want I just wanted to see your take on it 🥰 🏹tw: mdni. headcanons for byakuya and gin reacting to a kinky but pure reader. soft depictions of sexual matter. edit: I changed the banner, cause I was informed Gin's previous picture was a fan art. I honestly didn't know, since the style looked exactly like Kubo's art. I'm sorry!

ᴋᴜᴄʜɪᴋɪ ʙʏᴀᴋᴜʏᴀ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

🩰 “How could they? How could they be that degenerate?” that’s exactly what he asks himself before discovering how hard he is. There is something about avoiding repression that gets Byakuya going. Not to mention how attracted he is to your face and how he imagines it tinted in pleasure expressions.

🩰 Every time his s/o makes some type of “kinky” commentary, every word reverberates inside of him hitting against “the barriers” he voluntarily choses to build. His frown gets even more serious, but his lips separate with warm air passing through them. He is glad his pants are that flowy, or else his hardness might start showing.

🩰 At first, he will not proceed. The more “kinky” commentaries you do, the more disapproval his look will show. But then, there will be a day in which he won’t be able to hold back much longer…

“Captain, why are you showing so much of your chest? Isn’t it a bit… improper? Or are you trying something with me?” you ask, knowing damn well the more you tease him, the madder he gets.

“Is none of your business. It’s summer. Is hot” he mutters, fixing a pile of papers he has just finished reading. He is right, his office is becoming steam hot, and you are not sure if it’s because of summer or his sole presence. In any case, you see him squirming just a little, giving you the impression he is uncomfortable with the clothes he is wearing or maybe his body.

“It is, since I’m getting horny because of those collar bo-“ you try to keep going between laughter and giggles, but his shunpo is faster than anyone and your hands and belly are now pressed against the desk. His body topping you, his hardness grazing your ass, his mouth breathing so close to your ear. You swallow, after all this time he has finally woken up… but now, what should you do? You have no idea…

“Since you are that horny… why don’t you let me fuck you right now, right here?” Byakuya whispers, in between panting, with the menacing tone of a man that has been holding back for so very long. It is so weird to hear those words coming from his lips, but they definitely make you shiver.

“Bya… Byakuya-sama, I… I seriously- I was joking… I have never, ever… done this” you excuse yourself. Should you let him handle this? is it the moment in which he discovers your purity? Yet, it sounds so well to let him take it.

He stops pushing you against the desk, slowly helping you to stand up. Lovingly turning you around, kissing your lips so carefully.

“I know you are the purest flower of my garden… you pushed my limits, I should have behaved, and for that I’m sorry” he mumbles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“No, Byakuya-sama. Please take me, show me, enlighten me, and punish me”

ɪᴄʜɪᴍᴀʀᴜ ɢɪɴ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

🦢 Gin is not as patient as Byakuya. He won’t let you mess with him for too long, because he will definitely take advantage of your attitude. He knows very well, as wise as he can be, your true nature. You can’t fool him. Gin is not an innocent man.

🦢 He discovered that you were inexperienced way before you could even realize. All this time, he has only been playing dumb.  

🦢 He in fact, will try to push your limits even further, even to the point where you could be publicly exposed for such “indecency”. Some sort of humiliating game that really, really gets him hard and drippy.

🦢 During one of those weekend gatherings, where captains, vicecaptains and soldiers get together to have some sake fill their veins, Gin pulled you closer to him. He remembers every word you said before coming, all the things you joke you wanted to do in the bathroom.

His long fingers, cold and bony, curled around your waist. He kept pulling you towards him, to the point you finally sit on his lap.

His nose, also cold, buried in the crook of your neck with him inhaling your scent. His closed eyes, were shut tight. His lips, planted a sweet kiss on your skin. Before the eyes of everyone there, a depiction of lustful immorality was about to be shown.

“Since you are such a degenerate, why don’t we show them all, all the things you want to do to me?” he asks, very low, in your ear. His hand, snaking down your pants, relying only on the table to cover it up.

“Gin… I- I swear, I don’t- I didn’t mean it” you desperately try to whisper back, this is not the place… nor anywhere else for that matter.

He laughed. He laughed at you.

“I know, I know.. I was just joking. I know you are not exactly what you seem to be. Look at you, all worked up! How fun!”

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ GLIMPSES OF THE LUSTFUL

𝝑𝝔 cw : blasphemy kink???, churchboy!Jeongin, toys, smut

𝝑𝝔 a/n : the years of my life spent in the Catholic church came in clutch with this fic

Growing up Catholic had its perks, but its drawbacks as well. The tradwife stereotypes for women along with the general theme of sexual repression.

You had grown up with Jeongin, going to church together and going to the same Catholic school with the boy. Over the years, you had lost your faith, Jeongin however only grew in his faith, it never bothered you, and your lack of faith never bothered him.

Eventually, you both went off to the same college, a few states away, and figured it would be easier to live together. It was easier then having to make new friends and less risky than having complete strangers be your roommates.

"My theology professor is trying to kill me, I think," you joke to Jeongin over dinner.

"How so?"

"Because I'm not religious, and I told him that, and he started like interrogating me, it was weird," you confess, taking a bite of cereal.

"Is he religious?"

"I suppose so, I mean I told him that I was raised Catholic, so he started assuming the worst," you explain.

"Isn't that religious discrimination?"

"I don't know what to call it, but it was weird," you shrug it off.

"Sounds weird, but any whom," Jeongin changes the subject, "tomorrow I'm leaving early to help with this fundraiser at church, so don't be surprised if I'm not here when you wake up tomorrow."

Jeongin's whole weekends revolved around church, whether it was because he was helping plan a youth trip or assisting the nuns or even helping run a fundraiser, he kept busy with the volunteer work. And of course he was also an avid participant in Sunday Mass, communion, and other traditions.

"m'kay," you figure, rubbing your tired eyes, "my mom and dad are coming over tomorrow," you inform him.

"Oh, fun," he retorts sarcastically.

"Yeah, fun," you say in that same sarcastic tone as him.

"D'you need help like hiding anything?" Jeongin asks timidly.

"Hiding anything?" you ask.

"Like," Jeongin blushes, hiding his face in his hands before he speaks, "s-sex stuff."

"Oh, I mean if you wouldn't mind?"

"I just don't want your parents to freak out on you, remember last time?"

How could you forget the last time your parents came over and they accidentally found a condom in your bathroom, immediately going into a five hour long lecture about how they expected better from you and that you needed to go to a confessional to be forgiven for your sins of sexual impurity.

"Yeah, trust me I remember," you chuckle, "that would be nice, I have all that shit in a box, so I'll just give you the box."

You rise up from your seat at the dining table and walk into your room, grabbing the medium sized box from the closet and walking into the living room with it when suddenly, you trip, and the contents of the box spill everywhere.

"Ow, fuck," you groan, clenching your knee, which you hit on the ground.

Jeongin is quick to stand up and rush to your side, helping you up. You watch as his face eventually turns to the spilled contents of the box. "What in the fuck is that?" he questions.

Jeongin never swore. He thought swearing was pointless and made someone sound trashy, but here he was, swearing.

"It's a dildo," you whisper an explaination.

"B-but wh-why does it l-look like that?"

"It's supposed to look like a dragon, like, uhm, dick," you explain with an embarrassed tone.

"That's really weird, I hope you know, also that thing is so like big how does it- how do y- how can it- how-"

"A lot of lube, and a lot more patience," you half-joke.

"And what is this?" Jeongin exclaims as he picks up the rose shaped toy.

"I-it's a clit sucker," you explain as you grab it from him and put the toy back in the box.

"And what are these?" he holds up a pair of nipple clamps.

"Nipple clamps," you inform him.

"Why in the hell would anyone ever use something like that," Jeongin speaks to himself.

"Don't knock em till you try em," you insist.

You take the nipple clamps from his grasp and put them back in the box before Jeongin is picking something else up, "and what is this?"

"It's a butt plug."

"But why does it have a tail? Ew wait this thing has been in your butt!?"

"It's clean!" you exclaim, "it has a tail because- well-well because I just like it I d'know?"

"Weird," Jeongin mumbles as he puts the toy in the box.

"And what is this?" he holds up a flogger.

"A flogger, you hit people with it," you explain as you take it from the boy.

"But wouldn't that hurt?"

"That's kind of the point, Jeongin," you hum, "hold out your arm, it's not as bad as you think it is, I promise."

After a moment of thinking it through, Jeongin holds out his arm, you lightly hit him with the flogger, "oh that isn't bad at all," Jeongin hums.

"Mhm," you nod, placing the flogger back in the box.

"Oh, what's this?" Jeongin holds up a tentacle grinder.

"It's a grinder," you tell him.

"What does it do?" he asks sheepishly.

"Well," you pause, embarrassment creeping onto your face, "you like grind on it, like you grind your clit on it."

"Oh," Jeongin's face falls before putting the grinder back in the box.

"I hope you don't think I'm weird or gross or anything now," you confess to him.

"I-I d'think y-your weird," he promises, "I promise, y-you're not weird for having s-sex. It's n-natural."

"But you don't have sex, so I j-"

"Who said I've never had sex?"

You stare at him blankly, "you-you've..."

"Well like it's not sex but like I've masturbated before," he confesses.

Your lips make an o shape as you nod your head, "oh, th-that's good?"

"That's good!?"

"I d'know what to say! I was just surprised!"

"Well I mean I'm human y-you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"No! Of course not!" you insist.

The silence that passes between the two of you is almost deafening. You glance down and that's when you notice it, the bulge in Jeongin's pants. "Je-Jeongin," you mumble.

"I-I-I should go to my room!"

Just as he's about to get up you grab his wrist, the way he looks at you tells you a thousand words. "Stay," you practically plead with him.

"I-I haven't, I don't know how-" he whimpers under your intense gaze.

"I'll teach you," you reassure him, "anything you want, I'll teach you."

No words are exchanged between the two of you as he leans forward and slams your lips onto his own. He's messy and sloppy and inexperienced. "Calm down," you muse to him, "enjoy this, we have all the time in the world," you reassure him.

You gently cup his jaw with your left hand, your right hand running through his hair, "darling, calm down," you mumble against his eager lips.

"Can't get enough of you, d'you know how many nights I've had to listen to you whining and whimpering and falling apart on these things? Hm?" he groans into a kiss, "how I've beat my cock to the thought of you? D'you know about that?"

"Jeongin," you murmur, melting further and further into the kiss, "thought of you too," you confess.

"Want to watch you," he states, breaking apart from the kiss, "I want to watch you fuck yourself, the way you do at night."

That is how you find yourself naked on your couch, Jeongin watching you intently as you ride one of your dildos. "Hmm, so all you do is ride that toy and think of me? That's pathetic," he scoffs, watching you like he's disinterested, but you can tell from the tent in his pants that he is anything but disinterested.

"And all you do is what? Hm? Stroke your cock?" you remark.

"You know, filthy whores like yourself shouldn't fucking talk," Jeongin stands up and kneels next to you, taking your nipple in his mouth, making you gush around the toy, "recite first Corithians 6:18," he demands.

"J-Jeongin," you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Jeongin is pulling you by your hair, making you look at him, "recite it."

"Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body," you quote.

"That's it honey, yet here you are, riding this fucking toy every night, thinking of me," Jeongin's words are venom, "don't worry though, I'll make a good girl out of you."

You can only whimper at his filthy words.

And that is what started your little taboo tradition, every Sunday night you'd be face down ass up on Jeongin's bed, getting pounded from behind, and you'd only get to cum if you could recite five Bible verses for him.

Jeongin was definitely no priest but he brought you closer to the pearly gates than any real priest ever could.

[lollytea]

Please, your finale Huntlow thoughts, my liege. We poor peasants beg of you, our bowls are empty and your tables full; if we might have but a crumb of your succulent meal to fill our bellies in these cold December nights.

ASGCDHBDJNK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OKAY

I got a few asks about this but I guess I'll answer this one cuz it's phrased the funniest. I just wasn't too pressed about giving my Thoughts about finale Huntlow because I am fully a part of the Huntlow hivemind. Like I feel the way everyone else feels. I'm ecstatic, I'm delighted, I'm overwhelmed, I'm emotional, I'm so happy for them, I got everything I could have wanted. I won. We won.

(I HAVE TOO MANY PICS. I'LL RB WITH PART 2)

First of all this scene is so special to me, you have no idea.

It isn't inherently romantic but it's still so sweet and shows how much these two care for each other. Here's Willow, who's spent the last special Atlasing and repressing and refusing to rely on anyone else. But then she had her breakdown in front of Hunter and he realized just how stressed and scared she's been this whole time. She's visibly anxious and upset here, likely worrying up a storm because she hasn't found her Dads yet. And Hunter is right here beside her. He's seen her meltdown, he's felt her pain, he's heard her cry. He knows that Willow is in a fragile state at the moment. He knows she's been holding in a lot. He knows she's scared. I love that he's not only standing by her side and helping her search, but holding her too. It could be that she vocally expressed how worried she was to him, or maybe he just saw it on her face, but he probably placed that hand on her back to comfort her, let her knows he's right here, grounding her. And Willow, who's still learning how to depend on others, is letting him.

The way Hunter lights up when he sees Harvey and Gilbert, thrilled by how happy he knows she's going to be and his soft smile when he points them out to her. And then THIS!

Like Hunter is devastated. He feels alone and out of place here. He really thinks he has nobody. But Willow being happy can still bring a smile to his face. He just loves her so much!!!

And I know I already talked about the grom photo but UGHH!!!

I got a pic in better definition. I'm pretty sure this is Hunter's first grom. So likely a few months after the events of WAD. And it's so cute to think about Hunter and Willow very awkwardly but eagerly navigating a romantic relationship. I love how grabby and flirty Willow looks here, messing with his bowtie. She clearly LOVES the floral suit, thinking he's like the hottest man alive. She needs to smooch him and NOW. Or she's just like "Oh my, what a nice collarbone you have!!" Idk the ambiguity of what exactly Willow is doing here but the vibe and general intentions being very obvious is my favourite part of this pic. You can speculate for years on this. Oh and Hunter's face, I love it so much. His dumb little blush is like an old friend. He's fucking THRILLED that he's getting so much attention from her. He's very excited about where this is going. But he's also like. So nervous he's gonna pass out. But overall he's having the time of his life. Bi rights!

Also epilogue Huntlow....guys....guys epilogue Huntlow....are you guys still listening to me at this point?

God I love this scene. Its so natural and smooth, giving the characters a chance to breathe and exist and providing a glimpse of how they go about their daily lives. It's soft and lighthearted but it establishes so much about where Willow and Hunter are currently at in their relationship. They've been dating for like....3 years at the very least. And they're clearly very happy together!!

The way Willow casually slides on to the scene, giving the impression that she's often dropped in on him while he's working. And why wouldn't she? That's her sweetheart. What if she requires emergency smooches? What then? And of course, there's Hunter beaming at the sight of her. Seems he never gets tired of his girlfriend stopping by to visit. Or maybe he's sick to death of Willow the menace showing up to distract him while he's trying to work and he's just excited about the prospect of Luz's party. Either way, it's an adorable expression.

Something else I love about epilogue Huntlow is how equally distributed the affection is between both of them. Back when FTF dropped I gushed about how sweet it was to see Hunter taking initiative with Willow and the significance of something as simple pressing his backhand against hers during the pinky hold. And God, this sequence here says it all. From what I can tell, as Hunter runs towards her, they both reached out at the same time and linked hands immediately, implying that holding hands has become the automatic gesture for them whenever they meet up. They're in love, you're honor.

I love the huge carefree grins as they skate down the hill (still holding hands). They might have grown a lot since we last saw them but they're still young adults, they still love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff. And even better, they love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff together. All the handholding and fluffy cuteness is wonderful but I also love knowing that they seem to genuinely enjoy just hanging out and spending their youth with each other. Zeno was right, they ARE besties. Who knows how much shit Hunter and Willow get up to together? Being a pair of thrill seeking athletes, it's probably a lot.

This part is just so silly and ridiculous. After they go stumbling, Willow's first instinct is to grab Hunter and hold on for dear life. Her intense scrunched up expression is just so funny. "I will protect you, my love. No big dumb hill is going to harm a hair on your pretty head. Your girl is here." And Hunter barely acknowledging it (it probably happens a lot) because his life is currently flashing before his eyes. GOD they're just such nerds.

Oh and this frame is just SO adorable. The way Willow's hold on him lingers for a moment before he walks towards the grave, Hunter's heart eyes. They're clearly still so soft and touchy with each other. And this is after three years. I know they were insufferable when they started dating as teens.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 33

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You shiver as Cole runs his hand up your leg. You brace the bed, hands flat as he lifts your hips. He gropes your ass and you repress a whimper. You turn your head away.

There has to be a way out. You search desperately. There's only one escape; the door. The only problem is the creep in front of you, touching you.

You look up at him as he trails his hand up your leg to your ankle, kissing the top of your foot. Your skin crawls at his touch. You should've known he was too nice to be real.

You bend, reaching for him, fluttering your fingers pleadingly. He tilts his head and offers his hand. He lets you take it as you smile, batting your lashes as your eyes tinge. This isn't right but you just have to pretend a little longer.

You slip your legs down and sit up, getting to your knees as you guide him onto the mattress. He climbs onto the bed as you lead his hand onto your hip. His other mirrors the first as he comes to face you. You grasp his shoulders.

"Can we kiss?" You ask.

He nods and leans in, his eyes cloudy. You close yours and lean in, pressing your mouth to his. He's impatient, desperate as his tongue pokes at your lips. You open up to him and slowly ease back, pulling him by his shirt. His hand trails down and he kneads your chest through the dress.

You draw him down with you onto his side. You deepen the kiss as he easily succumbs. Every man you knew was this easy, you wish you'd realised it earlier. You urge him onto his back and he moans.

He turns his mouth away, "I... I didn't expect this," he gasps.

You hush him and grip his chin, once more kissing him. Your hand brushes along his stubble and down his thick neck. You slowly lean into him until he falls onto his back. You purr and open your eyes, glancing around.

You lift yourself onto one knee and straddle him, feeling his chest as you bend over him. His hands rove up and down your legs, squeezing your ass as he tilts under you. The tension drains from his as he melts beneath your kiss.

It's now or never. You slowly push yourself up and touch the straps of your dress. You tug them to the edge of your shoulders, his eyes rounding. He gulps.

Now!

You reach over and grab the lamp. You don't hesitate. You are only doing what you need to. You just keep telling yourself he wants to hurt you.

You bring it down on him, the bulb crackling as it shatters, the body of the lamp clunking across his head. You squeak and let it go, mortified by the noise and his gurgly cry. You roll off of him, dress sagging as you hit the floor.

You crawl to the open hatch, not daring to look back as you get your feet through and hurtle down the steep stares. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Why didn't you think? You don't even know how to get the hell out of here, not to mention the insane woman lurking somewhere in the halls.

You don't care. Your feet slap the floor as you barrel to the next set of stairs and you clammer down. As you get to the bottom, feet from the door, a figure steps in front of you and you shriek.

"No! Don't touch me!" You cry out and hurl a fist out, feeling it bounce of hard bone.

"Shit, sugar tits," the gritty reply hisses from Lloyd's through as he recoils, holding his cheek. You stagger, breathless as you gape at him.

"What are you doing here?" You puff.

"Coming to get you, sweetness," he rubs his cheek, "was just taking care of the geriatrics."

"Huh?"

"The crazy one with the scissors and her cuck husband," he snorts as you notice the way a strand hangs down his forehead and a slice in his coat sleeve is darkened with blood.

"Beverly?"

"Is that the bitch's name?" He snickers, "where's the spawn of satan then? Think I owe him too."

"He's... upstairs. I..." you raise your hands to look at him, "I... hit him."

"Now, now, mimi, you know that's my job."

"What--" You can't quite process what's going on. Is he really here? Did you pass out? Are you dreaming?

"I'll just give him an extra pop for good measure--"

"Lloyd, wait," you catch his arm as he tries to pass you, "please, let's get out of here--"

"Oh, don't you worry," he shrugs you off, "we're going far away but first," he twines his fingers through each other and cracks his knuckles, "you're welcome to come watch."

"I..."

"Or you can wait in the car," he reaches in his pocket and pulls out his keys, "I shouldn't be long."

You know you can't argue. He won't listen. He doesn't. You relent and take the keys. You don't really feel bad for Cole or Beverly or Ethan. You just want to get out of here.

"Oh, uh, one second," he stops you and unzips his coat, slipping it down his arms, "need a full range of motion," he rolls his shoulders and tilts his head side to side, "plus it's damn cold out." He hands you the jacket, "gotta wrap up."

He winks and looks at your chest. You follow his gaze and see how your nipples poke through the dress. You cringe and take the coat.

"I'll be in the car," you mutter.

"Get it warmed up for me," he smirks, "yourself, too."

[comet-forgot-you]

repress

roommate!max fox x reader

summary: max wants to do your makeup

warnings: none really, r thinks theres feelings for max, tension maybe, r is kinda introverted, i think thats all.

a/n: roommate max series? i think maybe. anyway shoutout to the middle pic for the inspiration for this. 😁😁 ive also never willingly worn makeup so like, i didnt know how to write the process, I TRIED MY BEST do not repost for any reason

rooming with max was… something. her personality completely differed from your own. she was outgoing, talked to people without much worry. you on the other hand, you rarely left your shared dorm and hardly talked to people unless they spoke to you first. it was almost a perfect balance.

max would always try and invite you to parties, all for which you politely declined. she was adamant, though. there was no party she went to that she didn’t invite you tag along with her. she wanted to spend more time with you outside of the dorm, she wanted to see you in different settings.

“i’m going to a party tonight, wanna come?” she asks from her spot on her bed.

“no, thank you, though.” you eyes had yet to tear away from the computer screen. you hear shuffling from behind you.

“c’mon, you need a break from that, just one party,” max says. you turn in your chair to look at the girl. she was sat on the edge of the bed, hands holding the sides.

“i need to finish this, i can take a small break, though,” you mutter, stretching your arms out. she stays still, bottom lip getting taken in between her teeth. max pushes herself off of her bed to stand in front of you.

“fine, if you don’t go to the party, at least just get dressed like you are.”

“why would i do that? its pointless.” max furrows her brows.

“its not pointless, it’ll give you a boost of confidence. i’ll do your makeup and help you pick something out, then you can take it off like it never happened.” you roll your eyes.

“youre not doing my makeup.” max frowns.

“why not? it’ll be so cute,” she mumbles, crossing her arms. “just a little bit of eyeliner and eyeshadow, i wont go too crazy, i promise.” you raise your brows and max juts her bottom lip out. you take a deep breath in.

“fine, but nothing too crazy.” max smiles, practically jumping at you to wrap her arms around your beck. she pulls back, keeping her hands on your shoulders.

“go sit on my bed, i’ll be right there.” you raise your brows and shes gone in an instant, going to retrieve her makeup. you let out a huff, what the fuck were you doing?

max is back before you’ve gotten up, eyebrows raised. “get on the bed.” you huff, pushing yourself from your chair and settling yourself on her bed. she sits across from you, setting the makeup she had retrieved in front of her. she leans across the distance between you, “close your eyes.” you’re quick to listen, eyes fluttering closed. she cups your chin to keep you in place. something presses against your eyelid, eyeliner, you think.

max lets out a huff of air, letting go of you. “this position is to awkward, get up real quick.” you open your eyes, brows furrowed slightly. you push yourself off of her bed and max rearranges her pillows. “okay, lay down here,” she says, getting off of her bed. you crawl on her bed, positioning yourself against her pillows. shes quick to follow after you, swinging a leg over your hips.

“what are you doing?” you ask, hands holding onto her hips subconsciously.

“shh, close your eyes,” she says, leaning forward. you do as she says, eyebrows furrowing. the tip of her eyeliner meets your eyelid again, gently running it across it.

shes so close, you can feel her breath against your face, her body so close to yours. you’ve never been so close to her before. brushing against each other in smaller spaces, crammed together in a booth, in your car, sure you’ve been close to her, but it was never this close.

she rubs her thumb over your eyebrows, “stop, you look stressed, its just makeup,” she mumbles. your eyebrows relax, muttering out an apology.

her hand rests on your forehead as she traces another line on your opposite eyelid. she smelt good, her hands soft on your face. she pulls back momentarily and you open your eyes to look at her. she leans over, grabbing her phone from its spot on her bed. it takes a fee moments before she’s turning the camera around to show you how you look.

“do you like it so far?” its simple, but it fits your features so well. you nod.

“yeah, looks good,” you mutter out. max smiles, flipping the phone back to her. she taps a few times and angles it above your face ever so slightly, and in seconds the flash goes off. you scrunch your face at the bright light and max groans.

“dont do that, i want to take a picture, you look pretty.” the compliment lets butterflies loose in your stomach. since when did that happen? you roll your eyes, hoping your heated cheeks didn’t give your inner thoughts away. max repositions her phone, this time rhetorically flash doesnt go off, and she quickly discards her phone to her side. she picks something up, a pencil you think, and she’s leaning back in.

your eyes study her features. her eyes, how they furrow in concentration as she traces your lips. her lips, they look soft, and for a moment, you wonder what they would feel like against your own. her eyelashes were coated with a thin layer of mascara. was she always so pretty?

“you’re staring.” her voice is quiet and she doesnt take her eyes away from your lips. you wait for her to let off of your lips to talk, not wanting to ruin her progress.

“what else am i supposed to do? you’re right in front of me,” you mumble. she smiles, averting her eyes from your own to focus on your lips. she applies a layer of lipstick. your lips feel weird with the additional layer, but you do nothing about. you cant tear your eyes away from her, the way she stares at your lips. you know its just for the purpose of applying the lipstick, but you cant help but want her to press her lips against your own.

she pulls back again, grabbing her phone to show you the end result. “hows it look?” she asks.

“its good.” you can barely even focus on your reflection. max smiles, snapping a picture of you before pushing herself off of you. you miss the heat of her body the second its gone, you miss her being so close. “thats all?” you ask, hoping it doesn’t sound as desperate to her as it did to you.

“yeah, told you i wasn’t going crazy with it,” she stands in front of your dresser. “lets get an outfit now.” you push yourself off of her bed, going to stand next to her as she goes through your drawers.

your mind raced a million miles an hour. it confused you how many times you had thought about kissing her in the small amount of time she spent in your lap, pressed against you. you’d never thought about max that way before, never really allowed yourself to look at her, to think about her, but now that it was forced, you almost wish you would’ve sooner.

you shake your head, ridding yourself of your thoughts. you couldn’t like max, you couldn’t let yourself like her, if thats what was happening. you were pretty sure max was only into guys, and even if she wasn’t, she was your roommate, and you really don’t want to make your living situation weird. you couldn’t like max.

[shadow4-1]

Sweet n' Silly Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Headcanons (SFW & NSFW)

Ghost is a character who has so many different facets of his personality that he represses for one reason or another. Sometimes, though, he can't hide things well enough. Here are a few headcanons (NSFW Under The Cut):

Ghost is very picky about the masks he wears. If he buys them pre-made (which is rare - he likes to make his own, he can sew), they have to be a very specific type of fabric. Of course, it has to have all the tactical advantages, but it has to be SOFT most of all. All of his clothing is soft for that matter. This man will NEVER, I repeat NEVER, be caught dead in anything starchy or itchy or scratchy. Even his bed sheets are that crazy 1000 thread count cotton. He likes soft things.

Speaking of soft things, Simon carries around a very small square of quilted fabric in whatever extra pocket he might have. It's actually a piece of a handkerchief his mother sewed for him as a child to keep him from taking his baby blanket with him to school. It's old and tattered and stained, but he carries it with him anyway. It's been with him through thick and thin (and the grave). He doesn't need to sleep with it, but if he's severely stressed, he'll hold onto it and examine it for a little bit. Sometimes, that fabric feels like it's the only thing tethering him to earth.

Would absolutely love to get his nails professionally done, but because of his appearance, he doesn't want to intimidate some poor nail lady. Instead, he opts to give himself mani-pedis. Sometimes, if he's feeling rebellious, he'll bust out his trusty bottle of black nail polish and go for it. It's not like anyone'll see it under his gloves. And God forbid if you walk in on him painting his toenails. He WILL kill you.

Ghost has some interesting food habits. He'll honestly eat whatever if he has to, but he would much prefer to eat simple, almost childish foods. He likes things like pasta, sandwiches, juice, and pudding. God, he loves pudding. A giant bowl of hot mac n' cheese and an entire 6-pack of prepackaged pudding is his favorite meal. He KNOWS its bad for him and it totally fucks up his very specific diet he uses to upkeep his frame, but he can't help it.

Has an intense skin care and oral care regimen despite the fact that almost no one will ever see it. His smile would make you go blind because he practically bleaches his fucking teeth - and also because he chose to smile with teeth.

He's quiet for a multitude of reasons. Yes, it's because he's observant and wants to be in control of his surroundings. But it's also because deep down he's still a shy boy. He can stand up for himself and others if he has to, he's grown into that part of himself. But as for meeting new people, he's shy. He doesn't know you, and he doesn't know if he WANTS to know you. He'd rather just eye you up and let your actions speak for themselves. And that's why Johnny is one of his favorites. Something about a person who can outwardly show their genuineness is his kryptonite (although of course they don't have to be as much of a puppy as Johnny - take for instance Price or Gaz)

Absolutely detests physical touch unless he initiates it or it's fleeting. Handsy people piss him off. But a light punch to the shoulder, a tap or two? It makes him feel normal. Normal people aren't afraid to touch each other in that casual sort of way. Ghost is kind of normal. At least he tries to be.

Fucking sucks at flirting. He comes across as dry and uninterested even if it's the opposite. He just hopes the person he's interested in can pick that up so they don't run off thinking he's a prick. If they do then fuck 'em. Ghost is happy being by himself. He's been alone for so long, what's another few years.

Has a very silent praise kink. If his lover tells him anything good about him, goes straight to his ego. He won't show it, but that "I like being with you" went straight to his cock and made him puff out his chest. Of course you do. He's great. He's always been great. Now he's really going to show you how great he is.

Ghost is a huge scent guy. He's very picky about what scents he enjoys, and if he has a lover, he can and will throw out all of their expensive fragrances (and soaps and lotions, etc). His lover HAS to smell a certain way to him, and he'll supply them with whatever he deems appropriate. By the time he's done, his lover will have to adopt a whole new skincare routine. Smelling like sex is obviously one of his top picks, although once again, he'd never say that aloud.

He's a very, VERY visual creature. He knows it makes him come across as a creep, but he loves just watching his lover. He loves picking up on their mannerisms and their quirks. He loves watching their body move when walking or showering. He loves seeing wet stains in his lover's underwear and indentations of his teeth in their skin. He truly devours EVERYTHING with his eyes.

Gets aroused by the weirdest of things. Bare hands on metal, that section of skin in between the collar of a shirt and a throat mic, blowing bubbles in gum. Sometimes, he's hard for nearly an entire mission because someone's voice is too raspy in the comms. (And yes, he's an avid ASMR lover. Those tingles he gets goes straight to his dick and he's ashamed about it. He would absolutely die if his lover sees his search history. They can't know he wants their tongue in his eardrums - no one can.)

Rarely jerks off. He represses all of his sexual energy until he physically can't anymore. He knows it's because deep down he's traumatized. Pleasure is something he doesn't feel like he's allowed to have. His lover should be allowed to have it. But him? No. Jerking off feels like such hedonistic behavior. He feels like a degenerate after. No jerking off. Besides, the more pent-up he is, the sexier his dreams get.

He's always been afflicted by crazy dreams - mainly nightmares. Sometimes, though, especially if he's pent up his dreams get sexual. For the most part they're pretty tame, par for the course sex dreams but when he really gets pent up? When he feels like he's going to burst? His dreams get so realistic they might as be reality. He gets rough and possesive and fucks his lover into his mattress only wo wake up and have to come to grips with the things he's WILLING to do to them. He's so used to being disciplined that the moment that mask drops he can't look at himself in the mirror.

[brucewaynehater101]

They 100% named themselves Drakes just to snicker internally whenever someone calls them that like, "you're so close, so *so* close but not quite dear." As for if he comes back to life or not, I was thinking that he comes back at the expense of his own feathers and it's one of the few ways to kill a Phoenix. If he is killed, one of his larger flight feathers (either wings or tail) will burn up and he revives with the injury fully healed. Something that would be fatal given time (such as a slit throat that causes them to slowly bleed out) would cost him one of his downy feathers. They can use multiple (3 to7 depending on severity) downy feathers instead of one flight feather. The bigger the injury, the bigger the feather needed to recover from it. If you strip a Phoenix of all it's feathers and *then* kill it, it will stay dead.

Tim has 100% nearly or actually died on patrol multiple times, but his hidden feathers brought him back. This is part of why he can never tell his family. Could you imagine the fall out of him saying, "yeah, if I wasn't a Phoenix, I would have died on patrol and missions at least 14 times"? That shit would not end well for *anyone*, least of all Tim or Bruce.

As for if they can hide as humans, oh boy do I have a juicy idea for that which has to do with Tim's emotional repression. Everyone who knows about them knows they can hide as humans on one condition. Phoenix are know for their tempers and when they loose it and start screaming and fighting due to anger, their wings instinctively pop out to help them because they're just *to angry* to even consider holding the glamor. Tim was taught at a very young age that loosing his cool could mean death, or something so, so much worse than death. Tim can't get angry with his family, he can't have screaming fights with them, he has to regard them with almost cold indifference when they argue, giving no more reaction than an angry huff or pinching his brow. He can't scream or swear or punch like they do when they get mad. He doesn't have that option. Because if he does, if he does let go and tear into them for everything they have ever done to him, he is going to flare his wings in an attempt of an intimidation display and they will *know*.

Damn. Tim having to repress his emotions not just because that's what he was taught from a young age and it's never emotionally safe to do so. There's that plus the added stress of his actual survival being contingent on his ability to repress emotions.

There are a few side effects to him constantly suppressing his emotions. One, he wouldn't be able to feel happy emotions as deeply either. If he fully felt happy and relaxed around his loved ones, he'd switch into anger/hurt more easily. Obviously, he can't do this. Two, he doesn't allow himself to be hurt by what fucked up things happen to him. Three, he has a harder time connecting with people. People tend to see his emotional distance as a lack of care/love. That's not true, but he struggles to outwardly express his emotions.

I like the ideas you put for Tim healing and the added angst of why he doesn't tell his family what he truly is

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part nineteen] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, reader has emetophobia, mentions of sex (mdni)

word count: 4.7k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“Why not?”

“You’re asking me why I can’t admit to wanting to kiss you?”

“Who said I wanted to kiss you?”

He was backtracking, trying to dig himself out of a hole that he’d already buried himself in. He cocked an eyebrow at you, somehow still arrogant in the midst of vulnerability. You called his bluff.

“I’m not stupid.”

He leaned away from you, a fraction of an inch. “I never said you were.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Don’t act like you were testing me, like you had Jisung’s best interest in mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that for an actor you’re surprisingly transparent. No one leans that close to a person’s face for no reason. You were going to kiss me and now you’re trying to play it off like you were just testing me to see if I’d cheat on my boyfriend,” you paused for a beat, wondering if you could turn it around on him. “Because I was testing you, and you failed. Horribly.”

Minho blinked. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Does it look like I’m fucking with you?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I can’t tell.”

“Guess you’ll never know.”

“Guess so…” he trailed off, settling back into his own seat.

The moment was gone, dissipated along with the breath you’d been holding. It was like the tight line of tension running between you, inexplicably tying you to each other, had been given an inch of slack. It was still there, buried under layers and layers of repression and guilt, but subdued.

You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed. You didn’t want to admit to yourself that it was likely a bit of both.

Suddenly the bus lurched around a corner, sending you flying into Minho in an cruel, ironic twist of fate. Your head landed in his lap. As if that wasn’t bad enough, a speed bump caused your head to bounce up and come down back onto his thighs, face planting into his crotch again. You didn’t even want to think about what it looked like to the people across from you. This was not how you envisioned his dick pressing into your cheek would go.

Minho winced, helping you sit up. There was a tiny dark spot on his jeans, damp from where your open mouth had left an imprint on the fabric.

Mortified didn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.

“Are you ok?” Minho asked, seeming totally unphased by the series of events that had just taken place. He was holding your shoulders like you’d run if he let go. He did a quick scan of your body, looking for marks as if you’d been hit by a car and not simply tossed into another human being.

“Fine, just absolutely humiliated,” you sighed, rubbing your cheek.

“Don’t be.”

“Well too late, I already am. And, uh, sorry about… that.”

Minho followed your gaze to the wet patch on his jeans. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It happens.”

“Does it though?”

He shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to say.”

You slumped down in your seat, pinching the bridge of your nose. Minho brought his hands to his lap and turned to look out the window.

“Are you okay?” you heard yourself ask just moments later. “I mean,” your eyes flicked down to where his hands were resting on his lap. You thought he might have been holding himself in pain, but then you realized-

“Fine,” he answered through gritted teeth, and that was the end of the conversation.

The next stop was Mt. Fuji’s 5th station, another lookout- this time on the mountain, that provided an even better view. You felt a little dumb for taking all of those pictures at the first stop but then remembered what Jisung had said about sending him lots of photos and relaxed a little.

This stop also served as the lunch break. Meals were provided to guests that had added the option on their tickets. The Hans had elected not to spring for the included meal, leaving you and Minho to fend for yourselves. They invited you to join them at a noodle shop inside the station, but you declined, opting to use the time to explore and find something on your own.

More time alone, you thought to yourself. Great idea. The day wasn’t even half over and you’d already had a close call. Too close of a call. Was it really that hard to control yourself around your best friend’s brother? What was wrong with you? Maybe it’d be easier if he wasn’t such a fucking tease. Regardless, you needed to have a little more self-restraint.

The break period was only about an hour long and then you’d be driving to the next stop so you had to be quick.

You walked with Minho through the narrow passageways, nearly breaking into a jog to keep up with him. There were only three or four restaurants in the surrounding area, narrowing your selection down by a lot.

“Looks like our choices are kind of similar,” Minho said as he scanned the menu on the wall of the third restaurant you’d stopped in front of.

“Here seems as good of a place as any.”

It was relatively busy inside, but you and Minho were able to find a little corner table out of the way. You figured these places must make a fortune, seeing as there was so little competition and dozens of buses full of hungry tourists came through each day.

The exterior of the building was painted black, as were the walls inside to absorb heat. There were floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the dining room, showing off the breathtaking view of the mountain range in the near distance.

“What sounds good to you?” Minho asked, leaning over the table to see your menu even though he had one right in front of him.

“Seems like everyone’s ordering soup,” you mumbled and nodded to the tables closest to you to prove your point. “I guess that does sound kind of good, especially because it’s so cold up here.”

“We could order a couple different kinds and share?” he suggested.

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed nervously.

You might as well share soup with your best friend’s brother that you almost kissed just an hour prior. Yeah, makes perfect sense.

Minho ordered for both of you when the server noticed you were ready. You watched him effortlessly make conversation with the waiter, cracking jokes like he’d known the man his entire life, and it made you think of Jisung. Jisung who always ordered for you, Jisung who counted the dishes he ordered on his fingers to keep track of them, Jisung who made friends in every situation he found himself in.

“What?” Minho asked, yanking you from your thoughts.

You hadn’t even realized you’d been staring.

“Nothing, sorry.”

“You okay? You didn’t hit your head earlier, did you?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, rolling your eyes. “Thanks for ordering for me.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. I noticed Jisung always orders for you so I just assumed you might’ve had some anxiety when it comes to that.”

“I do, yeah.” you admitted. “But it’s just something he’s always done for me, even before we started dating.”

The word dating seemed to snap Minho back to reality and he leaned away from you, straightening his posture and seeming to take great interest in the napkin in front of him.

“That’s sweet,” he muttered, sounding completely unconvinced.

“He can be when he wants to be. Shocking, I know.”

After lunch you took a walk around the lookout together, pointing out different signs with Japanese characters and trying to guess what they meant. Minho had paid for both of your meals, unsurprisingly, and you hadn’t even put up a fight. You already knew he wouldn’t let you pay for your own if you tried, slapping his card down on top of the bill before the server had even left the table.

You were listening to Minho talk about why he thought a sign by the bus stop said ‘no baseballs’ when you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. Minho had given it to you on the bus so you could listen to music on the ride up the mountain and you just hadn’t remembered to give it back to keep in his bag.

It was a text from Jisung. Minho stopped talking as soon as he noticed you weren’t paying attention to him anymore.

How is everything? Haven’t heard from you all morning! Send a pic of you and Minho when you can :)

“Ji wants us to send a picture.”

“Of what?”

“Of us.”

“Us? Like, both of us?” Minho asked, looking as confused as you felt.

You shrugged. “I guess he wants to make sure we haven’t killed each other yet.”

He nodded in understanding. “Proof of life photo, got it.”

“Where should we-” you paused, looking around for the best place to snap a selfie.

“Well we should get the mountains in the background, right?”

“Yeah, good idea. Let’s go over there.” You pointed in the direction of a cluster of benches gathered at the ledge of the mountain where people were taking pictures with their families.

The section was fenced off to prevent guests from falling off the face of the cliff, but that wasn’t stopping kids from climbing the railings or couples sitting on top of them. You settled for simply leaning against it, not trusting yourself enough to balance your weight on top of it.

“Here, you have longer arms,” you said, offering your phone to Minho.

He took it without argument and extended his arm so that both of you were in the frame. You’d forgotten that he was a practiced expert at taking selfies. You wondered how many phone cameras he knew how to use just from snapping pictures with fans at every event he attended.

You weren’t sure how close to stand to him, or what to do with your hands. You leaned towards him, not touching, and smiled awkwardly. You weren’t doing anything wrong at that very moment, so why did you feel so guilty? Minho snapped a couple photos and was about to hand the phone back when you were interrupted.

“Do you want me to take a photo of you?” a woman with a thick German accent asked. “You know, couple? I take photo for you, and you take photo of me with my family?”

You were about to politely decline, correct her, and just offer to take the picture of her family, but Minho was already handing the phone over. You were going to kill him.

Minho slung his arm around your shoulders like it was the most normal thing in the world and you forced yourself to wrap yours around his waist, resting your head on his chest as you bit the inside of your cheek. You could hear his heartbeat if you listened closely. It was steady, rhythmic. Not at all panicked or rushed like you were sure your own was. You faked a smile and waited until the camera stopped clicking before letting yourself breathe again.

Minho thanked the woman and traded places with her, taking a few pictures of her with her family while you paced anxiously in the background. You checked the time on your phone, wondering if it was time to go yet when you realized you still needed to text Jisung back.

You scrolled through your gallery, selecting all the pictures the nice lady had taken of you and Minho. Your finger hovered over the delete button, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to press it. You hit cancel, sighing in defeat.

You opened your messages again and stared at the blinking cursor. You flipped through the options on your camera roll, unsure of what to do. At the very least, you knew you couldn’t send one of the pictures the woman had taken to Jisung. He probably wouldn’t even question it, the pose was normal enough for friends, but then again what if he did? You couldn’t risk it.

You chose one of the selfies Minho had taken and hit send, promptly locking your phone as soon as you saw it was delivered.

“We have to get back on the bus.”

You looked at the time on your phone and then back at Minho, squinting in confusion. “We still have a couple minutes before we’re supposed to leave.”

“No, that woman’s son started talking about K-pop when I was taking their picture.” You glanced over your shoulder and saw the family huddled together, all indiscreetly staring at you and Minho.

“Don’t look!” he hissed. “Come on.”

He tugged you by the arm until your feet caught up with you and you were able to walk in step with him.

“They recognized you?”

“The little boy did. I don’t know if the others believed him.” You were tempted to look back, but you knew you’d probably be yelled at again. As if Minho could read your thoughts, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Keep your head down.”

“I don’t get it, doesn’t this happen to you all the time?” you asked. “What’s the big deal?”

“It doesn’t happen to me all the time, and when it does it’s usually not a big deal,” he explained as he ushered you up the steps of the coach. You shuffled your way to your seats, nodding in acknowledgment at his parents as you passed them. You got to the row first so you took the window seat. It was easier than having to shuffle around. “I don’t mind taking pictures with fans or signing things for them most of the time. It can get annoying, but I try to remember that I’m incredibly lucky to be in the position I’m in in the first place. And I’m just like them when it comes to football players and golfers, anyway.” You chuckled. “I’m serious! I stumble over my words when I meet them, and my hands are shaky when I ask them for an autograph- I’m a fucking mess. But we already had one close call this week with someone seeing you alone with me. Twice is asking for it.”

“Asking for what?”

“Rumors, articles, blog posts- I don’t even want to think about it.”

“I don’t think that little boy is going to start any rumors about us,” you said.

“You don’t understand.” Minho was serious, something you weren’t used to seeing from him. “It’s not that simple. Someone from that family posts a picture on Instagram, they tag me and they see you standing next to me. My fans… can be really invested in my personal life. And they’ll want to know who you are because they think we might be dating. That’s why I told you to keep your head down so they wouldn’t be able to see your face.”

“But guys and girls can be friends,” you reasoned.

“It’s the internet, y/n. No one cares. I’m seen alone with a woman and suddenly everyone wants to know everything about her from her high school GPA to who her mother voted for in the last presidential election.”

Oh. Ok, maybe Minho was right and this was a bit serious. Your social media wasn’t the worst there was out there, but it certainly wasn’t the cleanest per se… you had a whole story highlight dedicated to you and Jisung competing to see who could down a shot the fastest. Yeah, you were those people at parties. And even though you lost most of the time, you could already imagine the things people would say about it.

“I didn’t realize you were so popular,” was all you could say.

Minho chuckled bitterly. “I try not to advertise it.”

“I can see why.”

“It’d be hell for you to be associated with me.”

“I kind of already am,” you pointed out. Minho gave you a blank look as if he didn’t know what you meant. “Through your brother.”

“Right, Jisung.” Minho sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t know what he’d do to me if you got tangled up in all this bullshit.”

“You’re always saying shit like that. Jisung is pretty harmless, you know.”

Minho shook his head in disagreement. “You only think that because you’re wearing rose-colored glasses when it comes to him.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh, come on, yes it is.”

“We were friends for years before we started dating! I haven’t always seen him romantically.”

“Still, you haven’t known him as long as I have.”

“Well you have on… whatever the opposite of rose-colored glasses when it comes to him because you’re related to him!” you argued. “He can barely hold me on top of him- don’t ask how I know that.” Minho pursed his lips, suppressing a smirk. He’d clearly been about to ask. “I’m just saying I think you could take him.”

“I’m flattered, but I think you’re forgetting how protective he can be,” he protested. “Has he never gotten jealous?” Minho pressed, his body rocking slightly as the bus began to move. He stabilized himself against the seat in front of him, looking at you expectantly. “He’s never been possessive of you?”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to decipher whether or not this was a test. Did Minho suspect anything? Was he just being nosy or did he think there was something you were lying about. Was he trying to get dirt on his brother, prove to you that he’s not a good boyfriend? You weren’t sure what to think. You scrambled for something, running through your memories as you tried to piece together a story with fragments of half-truths.

“There were a couple of times…” you admitted, trying to even your breathing to sound more natural. “Like this one time, we were at a bar and this guy was trying to buy me a drink while he was in the bathroom and when he came back he just kinda came up to us and wrapped an arm around my waist and the dude fucked off.”

What had actually happened, was a guy tried to buy you a drink while Jisung was in the bathroom and you agreed, asking him to buy one for your friend Ji too. You let the dude assume it was short for Jisoo or whatever and entertained him while the bartender mixed the cocktails. As soon as you saw Jisung emerge from the bathroom you took both the drinks and ditched the man the second his back was turned. You presented your best friend with one of the drinks and toasted the man who bought them for you, clinking your glasses together in celebration. After you downed them, Jisung pulled you onto the dance floor with him, telling you to follow his lead. He made sure the stranger was watching and then kissed you hard right in front of him. You took it a step further, slipping your tongue into your best friend’s mouth and cupping his face between your hands. When you came up for air the man was walking out the door with a scowl on his face.

“Another time before we started dating he dropped me off on a date with another person, and wouldn’t even let me walk into the restaurant when he saw the guy through the window.”

That was true, but the real reason he didn’t let you go into the restaurant was because he knew the guy from one of his classes and had overheard him talking about how bi girls are freakier in bed which is why he actively sought them out.

“So I guess you’re right, he’s always been protective of me, even when we were just friends. But I don’t think he’d hurt anyone. He might say something brutal, but he wouldn’t swing at you unless he’s defending himself.”

“Well, I don’t want to take any chances.”

You thought Minho would be satisfied with your answers, but you couldn’t tell from the expression on his face.

You sat in silence for the rest of the bus ride to the next stop. There was that tension again. You curled into yourself, bringing your knees to your chest and pressing yourself against the window as you pulled your phone out of your pocket to text Jisung back.

J: dorks ;) looks like you’re having fun. love you!

Y: it’s ok i guess… would be better if you were here

J: that’s because everything’s better when i’m there

Y: nvm i take it back

J: rude

Y: how are you feeling??

J: just ok :/ mum sent lix and i some soup, but i couldn’t keep it down

J: sorry, i shouldn’t have said that part

Y: it’s ok

J: no it’s not- i know how you feel about that stuff

Y: ji, i promise it’s fine.

J: if you say so…

Y: i do

Y: btw… minho was asking if you’re ever get jealous

J: why

Y: idk it was weird- i told him about that time at the club near campus

You hoped he remembered which time you were talking about. You flirted with a lot of people for free booze.

J: i remember that night

Oh, so he did remember. Or he was bluffing just in case Minho was reading over your shoulder. You checked discreetly, sneaking a glance over at his brother. But Minho was scrolling through Twitter, completely in his own world.

J: did you tell him about what i did to you when we left >:)

Y: he’s not reading these, dumbass. you don’t have to do all that

J: i was referring to spilling my slushie down the front of your dress idk what you’re talking about

Y: i can’t stand you

“Hey, y/n.” You jumped at the sound of Minho’s voice, clutching your phone to your chest protectively. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just, we’re here.”

You hadn’t even realized the bus had stopped, but passengers were already getting off, eager to see the mountain from yet another view. Minho slid out of the row and stepped back to let you off in front of him.

“Where are your parents?” you wondered aloud as you passed their empty row.

“Guess they ditched us again,” Minho sighed. “Really loving this family trip. Not that hanging out with you isn’t cool and all,” he amended.

“It’s fine, I get it,” you assured him. “Except I’m going to take it very personally and give you the silent treatment for the rest of the day.”

He shook his head but laughed. You followed the rest of the tourists in your group who were getting into a fast-moving line and joined them at the end. You and Minho had been the last two on the bus so there wasn’t anyone else behind you.

You weren’t even sure what you were in line for, hell, you didn’t even know where you were, but men in beige coveralls were ushering the queue forward impatiently. They gave directions mostly through hand signals, pointing, thumbs up, thumbs down, probably so guests from all around the world could easily understand them.

Before you could even understand what was happening you were enclosed in a cable car that was ascending God knows how high with Minho and one other couple. They looked to be in their seventies, and were speaking Vietnamese to each other, completely oblivious to the seven stages of grief you were going through on the other side of the car.

“Minho” you whispered.

“I know,” he murmured back. He looked quite pale himself, but you knew it likely had more to do with being concerned about you than anything else. He hurriedly glanced around the tiny cabin as if there might be something in there that could help you.

“Minho,” you repeated, this time with more urgency.

“I-I” he paused, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this was part of the tour. I didn’t mean for- if I had known I would’ve suggested we stay back.”

“I feel sick,” you mumbled.

“Let’s sit down.”

Minho tried to cross the car over to you, but his movement caused the gondola to shake. You barely managed to muffle a scream of terror with your fist. The car swung violently on the wire and you suddenly wondered how up to code these cable cars were. When was the last time they had been inspected? How old were they in the first place?

If you looked closely you could see rust corroding some of the bolts and paint chipping from the benches. It took everything in you not to collapse to the floor and assume fetal position.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Minho apologized. “I’m going to move again, okay?”

“No, please don’t!” you begged.

“I have to! I have to move to get over to you. It’ll just be one more time, I promise.”

You nodded, even though you were dreading it and screwed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the rocking. The jolt was bigger than you expected and for a moment you thought the cable had snapped and you were plummeting towards the ground, but when you opened your eyes you were still moving steadily upward and Minho was by your side.

“Why did you jump!” you cried. “We could’ve died!”

God bless him for his patience. He wasn’t even phased by your accusations, instead he just took you by the hands and eased you onto the bench behind you, sitting next to you a moment later.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you groaned, wiping your sweaty palms on your hands.

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“That’s not true, I yelled at you.”

“I’ve had worse, trust me.”

He was trying to make you laugh, but you were still terrified out of your mind. Your whole body was trembling and your stomach was twisting with nausea. You were trying not to look down, but the whole cabin was made of glass. It was impossible not to look, and closing your eyes only made you feel sicker.

“Want to hold my hand like last time?” Minho offered.

You were quick to accept, grabbing his hand as soon as it was outstretched.

“I’m sorry my palms are clammy.”

“Mine are too, it’s okay,” he assured you, even though they were completely dry.

You squeezed his hand hard, just like you had on the rollercoaster. But it wasn’t making you feel any better.

“Minho, I’m scared.”

“I know, y/n. It’s okay though. You’re safe with me. I’ve got you, I promise. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“How can you say that?” you whined, eyes darting around to all of the windows. “You can’t control whether or not we fall out of the sky!”

You suddenly felt horribly guilty for the other couple trapped in the cable car with you. They were probably just trying to enjoy their vacation and there you were having a mental breakdown thousands of feet in the air with nowhere for them to escape to.

Minho laughed despite himself and used his free hand to grab your face, turning your attention to him.

“Hey, look at me, okay? Don’t look out the windows. Just focus on me.”

“Okay,” you gulped.

You focused on his face. On the way his soft features hardened around the edges. His sharp jawline and perfect nose, easing into the light blush of his cheeks and warm, brown eyes. The dichotomy was striking, and the late afternoon sun that was shining in through the dirty glass made him look angelic. The way the light cast a golden halo around his curls was enough to draw anyone and you found yourself leaning closer and closer to his face.

You were the one to kiss him this time, but he more than reciprocated. The moment your lips touched he was tangling a hand in your hair, groaning softly against your mouth. His lips were just as warm and soft as you remembered, but the kiss was a million times more damning. You were both completely sober, even if you’d been consumed by terror moments earlier. You knew what you were doing. You both did. And you had the first time, but now there was no excuse.

You pulled away a moment later. “I-I’m sorry. I just had to see…”

Minho brought a hand up to your face and you flinched, but all he did was run a thumb across your cheek, collecting a stray tear on his fingertip. You hadn’t even noticed you’d started crying, and whether it was from fear or guilt you couldn’t be sure.

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[sister-lucifer]

I just went through like. All the posts with Alex in them on your blog. I greatly enjoy the situations you put him in.

I am on my hands and knees begging you to tell me about your force fem ideas for him. How does it happen, his reactions, heck what flavour of feminization is it? (Sissification vs dollification for example!)

I am starving for this kinda thing lol. I'm but a humble dress up enjoyer.

so i like SORT OF went into this idea here, but i have definitely come up with more ideas since then

my current in universe explanation for alex’s forced fem (sissification to be precise) is that it’s a sort of counter conditioning; masky and hoodie need to break him down, make him meek and unable to act, so he’ll be useless to the operator. they need to break his spirit. plus, they’re still pissed at him, so humiliating him both helps their cause and quells their rage

the explanation doesn’t really matter though cuz uhhh i’m gonna write what i want

shout out to @cryptidcircusco for helping me come up with this upcoming lovely idea (tw noncon/dubcon):

i have a whole plan for an alex mind break series (part one of which is actually Boys on Film, go read that if you haven’t) in which the humiliation slowly ramps up. my current fave and most developed idea is alex being trapped in the woods, unable to escape since it’s basically the operator’s labyrinth, and all the memory fuckery makes it nearly impossible to remember where he’s been or where hes going. it only gets worse the longer he’s there

on top of that, masky and hoodie are stalking him. without warning, any time of day or night, often multiple times a day, they’ll jump him. at first they just roughed him up, then they get more touchy; they stop really hurting him and just start groping him, and the behavior only continues to escalate. you have to remember alex is incredibly repressed, he hates being forced into a submissive role because it makes him feel feminine. he can only yell and fight for so long though before he starts to just…expect it

the woods degrade his mind more and more. he can’t remember how long he’s been here; days, weeks, hours, it doesn’t matter. he’s conditioned now. he hears the footsteps behind him and gets down on all fours, ass in the air; it’s just muscle memory. and he starts to like the way they silently praise him for behaving. petting him, kissing him, letting him know he’s been good.

the real show starts, though, when the masked twins bring along something extra.

as he’s been trained to, alex gets into position when he hears the two stalking him. he can hardly remember where he is or why he’s here or why he’s doing what he’s doing, but he doesn’t want it to stop. his mind is totally fogged, but somewhere in there he still manages to string together excuses.

there’s no excuse when masky tugs down his pants and reveals a lacy pink thong.

alex is mortified. he starts to struggle, to deny, to masky and hoodie he doesn’t remember putting it on, he swears, but they hold him down. they don’t say anything, but the way they look at him says enough. they shush him quickly, not letting him explain himself. it wouldn’t do any good

hoodie points an accusing finger onto alex’s chest. alex frantically shakes his head, only to moan when masky snaps one of the thong straps.

he tries so hard to remember; surely he didn’t put that on. but how else would it get there…?

oh. god…

he must have put it on. it’s the only explanation.

the masked twins share a silent look; their plan worked perfectly. he doesn’t remember them slipping the lacy garment on him the last time they grabbed him and fucked him until he passed out.

he’ll whimper, and he’ll cry a bit, and he’ll be so humiliated, but he’ll learn. just like before, he’ll come to not only expect but want it. he’ll never want to leave. he’ll be broken down into the perfect girl.

they’ll have to release him eventually, obviously. they can’t keep him forever, as much as they’d like to, as much as they’d like to keep watching him stumble around in heels and a pleated miniskirt.

when alex awakens just outside the tree line, back in his jeans and hoodie, he’ll barely have phantoms of memories of what happened. they might come back to him slowly in fragmented dreams and flashes in the back of his mind when he stares into the trees for too long, but if they leave him alone, he’ll never really know.

he will, however, linger in the women’s clothing section for much longer than he should.

huh. weird

[demonicbaby666]

Falling, So That We Rise

One shot | Marvel Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst and Comfort

Words: 1.4k+ 

Warnings: trauma alluded, maybe a sprinkle of an unhealthy attachment style

A/n: she's monologue heavy...

Everyone has shadows in their past that haunt them. No matter how hard you try to run from them, they catch up to you and swallow you whole until you’re submerged in an abyss of repressed memories. In the time spent locked away, they have mutated and learned how best to swat away feeble attacks that come in the form of denial and distraction. 

There is no easy way to win the war other than succumbing to the lulls of familiar pain and anguish while laying in bed and staring blankly at the ceiling fan, wishing that the infernal flashbacks that stole your childhood would cut you a break now you’d reached a point in your life where things seemed calmer. That is, however, not how things work. 

Similarly, other people share these mind-boggling complexities. Shutting them out and assuming they’d take it on the chin without question was not as straightforward as it seemed. Which is what you were coming to learn with each repetitive knock that echoed through the hallway. 

Five knocks seem excessive. Why five? Why not three or even two hard booming knocks? But five? 

“Let me in, or so help me,” Nat called from the other side of the door. Her voice was calm, “We both know this door can’t stop me.” 

Your loud groan ebbed from your bedroom, through the apartment, and eventually reached attentive ears. 

“Ya, ya. Now open up,” she beckoned. 

Had you believed a less-than-welcoming ‘fuck off’ would have motivated her to leave, you’d have done so. But you knew her well enough to know the two words would incentivise her more than deter her from the constant knocking that was, quite frankly, fuelling the cluster headache forming along your temples. 

The only option left was the worst one imaginable. How loathsome confrontation truly is, especially when one already knows what the outcome will intel. It was a simple solution. Cut the cord. And it was simple for one reason - surviving alone is more manageable. You never risk becoming reliant on someone that could end up breaking you. 

It made sense in your head and seemed a solid plan, that was until your fingers curled around the door handle, and you pulled it open, revealing auburn hair, emerald eyes, and a smile so fucking genuine it had you melting on the spot. 

“Good to see you’re still alive,” Nat smirked, eyes peering over your shoulder, “you going to invite me in?” 

“No,” Straight to the point. Bold? Yes. Dare it to be said, perhaps a little too bold because instantly the smile - that seems to work its way into your heart effortlessly - faded, crumpling under the wrath of your harsh and hostile tone, “I think you should go.” 

You kept a straight face, hoping that by pretending your heart was as cold as it seemed, she won’t notice how it was shattering. 

If it were anyone else, they’d have taken their leave, sensing their company wasn’t desired, and you wouldn’t have blamed them for doing so - despite the small voice in your head that repeats the same mantra, ‘If they cared, they’d fight.’ So you didn’t know what to make of her decision to keep her feet planted in the doorway. 

In truth, your puffy eyes, the bags under them, and the weight you carried on your shoulder kept her from walking away. How you still kept going, despite your tortured soul having lost so many battles against demons, she didn’t know. What she knew was it was admirable that you were still standing. It made her want to hold you tighter, kiss you harder, and love you with every morsel of her soul. She wanted to help you in every way she could, not to change you, but to surround you with everything she saw so clearly you were never given. 

“Not a chance in hell I’m leaving you like this.” she asserted. 

It was a rash move. You knew that as you tried to shut the door on her, it was the barrier you needed when it seemed like she’d sooner murder than abandon getting through to you. What you hoped would be a cut-off to the painful interaction you were enduring was anything but. Nat’s palm made firm contact with the door, halting it so swiftly it caused you to jolt. 

Being that a healthy diet wasn’t something you’d cared about made it incredibly difficult to overpower her hold on the door. It would be one sight to behold had anyone walked by and witnessed. The first thought would most likely be, ‘She’s being attacked,’ before they proceeded to excuse themselves from having to participate in any way. 

After a solid minute of battling over the door position, it stood open again, Nat staring right at you with a raised eyebrow and an accompanying smirk. God, she could be cocky when she wanted, despite the victory being magnanimously handed to her. 

In one swift action, she moved, pushing forward into the apartment and flinging you over her shoulder. The kicking and screaming that ensued was flimsy and rather pathetic; whether it was done intentionally was still debatable. 

“Nat! Put me down!” You protested, trying to hide the childlike smile - that rejected being suppressed - from your tone. 

Gently setting you down on the sofa, she crouched between your legs and placed a hand on your thigh, “You want to do this alone. I get it. But I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled softly and chuckled, “Even if you can handle all this without anyone, and believe me, I know you can. You don’t need to.” 

And maybe it’s the small details that shift the tide; the way she took such care when she reached out to tuck strands of hair behind your ear, or how she touched you like no one ever had - each caress of her fingers saying, ‘I will not harm you,’ or the way she kissed you; like it was the first and last time. Every. Single. Time. In truth, everything she’d ever done for you oozed with a kind of teeth-rotting compassion that could drive a person mad. 

And it did. Not for any other reason except that you couldn’t understand why and what she was doing with someone like you. There were no prospects, no life plan; hell, you barely knew what to expect two days from now, let alone two years. That didn’t stop her, though. She continued to look at you with so much love in her eyes the world may as well have toppled off its axis, and the astonishing thing was, plummeting into your inevitable demise had never felt better. 

The harsh truth is you are not the type of person people fall in love with. You have never been. People are intrigued, inspired, and some find themselves gripping onto you as though you were their new addiction. That’s all it ever was. The love, or what resembled it, that you’d received was always fleeting, momentary, and, dare it be said, conditional. Smile, laugh, make jokes; that sort of stuff keeps them around, but the moment emotions start to peek through the cracks, it’s always safer for them to run, and they do. 

So to be loved so fiercely and so often, even on days where you’d shut the world out, on days where the world shut you out, it was foreign. It seemed like a dream, a cruel joke the universe was playing, bidding time and waiting to deliver the final blow of opening your eyes and discovering you were right all along, that it was too good to be true. 

“Okay,” you whispered. 

“You, me, sofa, and a movie.” And that was that. No fuss, no ulterior motive, “The cure for everything.” 

She leaned forward, her face drawing closer, and despite the intimacy shared repeatedly, it still caused your heart to race faster and your palms to sweat. “You’re not allowed to push me away,” she said, staring down at you at your lips, “I hope you know that.” 

“It’s becoming painfully obvious,” you mutter, rolling your eyes - you and Nat very much aware that you weren’t annoyed in the slightest. 

“You’re stuck with me for a long time. Plus, you’re the best arm candy around.” her warm breath tickled your lips before she leaned in to place a smiled kiss on your lips. 

Unfortunately, relying on someone didn’t seem so bad anymore, and you’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit that it was nice to have them fight for you. You took the win. Nat wanted you, even if it was just because you made good arm candy. 

Tags: @ssa-sapphic @red1culous @7thavenger @five-bi-five-mind @auggiewritess @jenna-ortega-is-pretty17177 @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon | Click here to be added to my tag list

[krnsluvvie]

love at first, love at second, love at last

veinticinco: finalmente, tuyx (wc: 2,2k)

SUMMARY: sae had chosen his career and that was shortly followed by his and y/n's separation. three years pass by and amongst all the lurking and stalking each other's socials, sae is suddenly found back in their hometown. old feelings are resurfaced, current ones are questioned and a whole load of future ones are found in a blur.

veinticuatro | masterlist |

Your results have come out and you were sitting cross-legged in your room, shaking with fear and anticipation. To say you've been on edge would only be an understatement; both Isagi and Kurona knew they would be getting dealt with the Devil reincarnated himself and thus, actively avoided you. You closed your eyes then as you rubbed your temples, seeing them turn around the corner, I can't really blame them. 

You keep opening and closing the laptop as if that would help you with your current predicament. It's been done with, what else do you have left? You either face it and take it like a real alpha that you are or you end up crying about it to your friends–as if they haven't been dealing with… everything you've served them. Willingly or unwillingly.

Your phone dings and you check the sender: Sae. With a silly smiley face.

After the grand revelation, you couldn't help but think about how repressive you were regarding your feelings. That explained your random outbursts and terrible mood swings. You really just had to come clean with it. To yourself.

how did you do?

The text is how it usually is. All lowercase, sounding anything but interested. You swallow down the lump that starts to create in your throat and start typing.

haven't checked them yet

You throw your phone back on the bed as you face your laptop. The worst thing is repeating a year. You mumble this under your breath while typing the website into the browser. It soon becomes a mantra–to redirect your mind elsewhere, to have your mind preoccupied.

The screen turns momentarily white after you finish logging in. Relief washes over you but it gets cut rather short when your face pales upon seeing the loading sign appear. Your eyes don't look away in time as they zero in on the percentage. You knew when you saw it but was curious to see the details. Maths got you real fucked up but hey, no more seeing any of that after all of this. 

You send an all-caps message into your group chat, announce it anywhere and everywhere possible.

congrats

Sae's message reads. You frown a little because looking back, you did freak out about this to him. Unpleasant memories flood your mind and your cheeks heat up. Right, it's just a graduation, why were you pissing yourself every time someone mentioned it? You physically cringe at just revisiting all of the instances.

You send him your thanks in the most nonchalant way possible (you ended up with a lame “thx”) but hey, if you truly squint, the communication has gotten better. The bare minimum is being barely met but you don't expect much from the Japan prodigy to begin with.

You get up and stretch a little before letting your body drop on the bed. You loosen your body and close your eyes. You were incredibly happy; it was beyond words.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

After the formal part ends, you get off the stage, meeting with your friends and family. Your parents look at you somewhat proudly and you give them a small smile–a little mocking as you could never forget their nagging and how “with this attitude, you will barely graduate”. It stung but you got over it quickly. The way their heads drop, you can tell that they might feel some regret, too. They point towards the exit and mumble “have fun”. You nod and get back to talking to your classmates, friends, teachers. This is a special day, after all.

“Would you look at that? You getting a diploma?” Isagi approaches you along with Kurona who's holding a small bouquet of various flowers. 

Kurona catches your gaze and you can feel the remark that threatens to leave his mouth but he holds himself back. “We are expecting you to do more for us.” And he hands it to you, all toothy.

You almost grab it. “I knew you guys would never stab me in the back.” The flowers look a little wilted but you don't expect much from a pair of football-obsessed high school freaks. 

“Thanks, you two. Don't worry too much–”

“Where's Y/N!” A voice resounds throughout the gymnasium. It's already teeming with sweaty bodies, loud, and someone has so much time on their hands that–

“Here you are!” 

There's Shidou standing before you, next to Isagi and Kurona. He's holding a box of chocolates with the most devious smile. You raise your eyebrow as you subconsciously grip the tube with your graduation certificate in it. No one dares speak a word. And you notice it isn't just you or your friends. The whole hall ceases all their activities, it becomes deafeningly silent that even a drop of a pin could be heard.

“Continue!” Shidou yells and the rest continues as if he was a person of authority. The look on his face is tell-tale enough. 

“I'm sure they have just never seen that ugly ass hair combo, my friend.” Oliver emerges from behind them and waves at you. You're frozen and rendered speechless. You blink once, twice. Why is everyone here? Everyone but … Sae?

“Don't call me that,” Shidou swats the hand from his shoulder and he fixes his look on you.

Your peripheral gaze locks on the two guys that you surely believed would never stab your back. Explain.

“I only invited Oliver, I don't know what he's doing here.”

“Yeah, my bad, it was me. Figured you'd want this to be more lively.”

You intake a sharp breath. Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Why are you even here. Is this a substitution for Sae?”

The others look at you like you're the seventh wonder of the world. You would do the same in their shoes, let's be real. But for the sake of your dignity, you avoid their piercing gazes as you look around the gym. So spacious! And it fits so many people!

“Actually,” Shidou comes closer as he hands you the chocolates. “Yeah, we are. Sae-chan said he couldn't attend. But he said that he's so proud of you and that he misses–”

A new person enters the discussion as he kicks Shidou in the back of his knees.

“My bad.” Sae mumbles as he regards you with a nod. 

He's in all black, and has a cap that covers his face when he looks down.

“The fuck was that for?!”

“You're seriously not asking that, are you?” Oliver crosses his arms as he tries his best not to erupt in laughter. “Ahh, isn't it just so fun in here?”

“You guys are just loud.” you say. It feels as if it's been years since you last talked, your voice sounding raspy doesn't help it, either.

Oliver not so subtly ignores you as he says, “Sae drove us here. He got here late because he was trying to find a parking spot, isn't it right, Prodigy-chan?”

“I could have said that myself.” Sae deadpans.

You, Isagi and Kurona exchange glances. 

I'm sorry… Sowwy

Isagi puts his hands up in a prayer as if you'd accept his apology this way. You mouth, Buy Me a Congratulatory Meal And Then We're Even-all emphasized–and he has no choice but to reluctantly nod. A smile snakes its way onto your face.

Isagi also catches the way you keep throwing glances Sae's way and drags the rest to the side. Some of your classmates have recognized Oliver and came up to him to talk. 

Now it's just the two of you. 

The bustling and chaos around you does little to help you alleviate your mind. You knew there were a lot of things between you and him unsaid and this place, now, was a godsend opportunity.

“You got the chocolates?” Sae asks out of nowhere and you're almost forced to look at him. 

“Huh?” Huh? WEAK. “I don't know what you're talking about.” As you say this, Shidou comes sprinting towards you, the chocolate box already in shambles. “Sorry,” he says almost unapologetically as he points towards the crowd, enjoying your supposed chocolate.

“I guess not.” He takes the box from your hand and you both notice there's only one piece left. “You take it.” You blurt out.

Sae doesn't say anything as he indeed takes the last piece and pops it into his mouth. 

“Can I take a look at your diploma?” he asks out of the blue and for some reason you comply. You hand the tube to him and watch as he carefully takes the document into his calloused hands. You don't think you could stand there idly, doing nothing, anymore so to plan your escape, you scan the area and the best case scenario would be just… turning around, leaving him behind.

You had manners, though, and this childish game wasn't going to cut it anymore. As you turn to look at him and tell him you will go back to Isagi and Kurona, he grabs your shoulder and leans down. Sae uses the diploma to shield both of your faces as he slightly leans down and kisses you on the lips.

You feel something probing on your lips and your body reacts way faster than your mind and you let him in. His tongue swirls and that one piece of chocolate lands in your mouth.

He slowly pulls away but you latch onto him, not backing down. 

Your façade has been long debunked and you knew Sae was aware. Probably had been for some time now with how confidently he invited himself into your mouth.

You pull away and he looks at you amusingly. “What, want more?”

Your face is burning with crimson and you still have some half-decentness in you left that you cover your mouth with the back of your hand. What the fuck was that.

“Gahhh, that was tiring.” Shidou comes back, arms stretching over his head. 

“No one even knew you.” Oliver deadpans.

“I was literally the talk.”

“You were the guy that Itoshi Sae tossed to.”

“Multiple times, if you will.”

“You know what, nevermind.”

“Oh, you two.” Shidou changes the topic as swiftly as he usually does. “Why are you holding their grad certificate?”

“Was curious.” Sae's answer comes fast and almost calculated. He returns it to you.

“Okay.” Shidou eyes both of you. “The kids are going home 'cause practice, school, so it's just us left.”

Oliver adds, “We should go celebrate.”

“Why are you so red?” Shidou turns to you. “Did somethin' happen?”

“I am fine, you guys go ahead. I will go talk to my teachers before I leave.”

“I will go talk to them, too. Haven't updated them in a while.” Sae says.

Oliver and Shidou exchange fully knowing glances. “Alright, you know where you parked your car. We will wait there.. after we find it.”

Sae nods and the two of them leave with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“You wanna tell me something?” Sae asks and it takes you a while to realize that he's talking to you.

“Me? I don't think so. Maybe you have something to tell me?” You say, inwardly cringing at how it ended up sounding despite all your nonexistent efforts. 

“Well, I'll go talk to them if you don't mind–”

“Sae,” you exhale. It feels like the more you call out to him, the more free you feel and the more true you're staying to yourself.

He turns to look at you and you hate being scrutinized over. Yet…you gather all your courage and say, unfiltered, “I like you.”

Sae's lips quirk in a small smile. A minute passes. Or maybe a second. You don't know because it feels too long until he responds.

“I know.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Actually–”

Sae chuckles and gets closer and you actively notice you don't mind it. At all. “I like you, too. I have for a while. A long while.”

You look at him and you notice that he's really grown now. He wasn't the boy you once dated and…  almost loved. Though, the personality stayed the same still, but you believe it is a part of the Itoshi appeal.

His hair is longer, his features got sharper and you can only hope that you feeling he has gotten mellower is also right.

“I don't think I ever stopped.”

Your heart starts beating faster. It accelerates with every passing second and you feel like passing out. You also never thought you'd find yourself near him again, let alone like him and be in each other's proximity. Just like before. 

“Aren't you such a romantic?” Your voice comes out meek. But you know that it isn't any sign of weakness.

“Let's go talk to the teachers,” you lay out your hand to him, “I'm sure they missed seeing their favorite sports player.”

He scoffs but takes your hand nonetheless.

That in itself was an answer you both wanted. Neither of you was a fan of words and it manifested itself in this form of a relationship. In the end, words never conveyed as much as actions did.

They truly never did.

a/n: FUCKING FINALLY!!!! i cant say im totally happy with how i managed the series and how it flowed overall (severe burnout from the constant posting in the beginning (sprinkle some life things that contributed to the plot that i call my life) that i had to sit down and breathe). thank you to everyone who stuck around despite everything, im eternally grateful. if you have any questions, send an ask and ill answer!! until then <3!!!

tag list: @kiopanxp @funtuki @silly-ez @asteroskoniiii @keijiqahara @pikibee @tamimemo @kaitfae @biaonww @y-sabell-a @kaiserkisser @winterpein @bloombb @yyoichisgirl @rifran