#doesn't look like much writing is actually happening tbh

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Have you seen Impeachment: American Crime Story? The show about Bill Clinton’s affair with Monica Lewinsky. Well, I was young in 1998 so I didn’t know a lot of details about Bill Clinton’s affair with Monica Lewinsky until I watched the show.

Honestly, while watching the show I was reminded of reporting in the royal world as there many parts of the show about journalists getting scoops, sources, catching someone in an affair, men’s bad behavior, etc. Andrew Morton even helped write Monica’s book, same as Diana.

My realizations:

1.) the people who worked to catch Bill Clinton dis jr because they thought they were doing it for the greater good. i think in some ways they thought it was their form of activism. It made me realize that a lot of journalists in the royal watching world probably feel like this as well and that’s why they go after William and Kate

2.) the scandal was so scandalous omg. It certainly made tampongate look tame. It makes me wonder why Charles and Camilla still get made fun of a lot these days and I hardly see anyone go after Bill Clinton anymore (might just be my algorithm)

3.) the journalists or the royal rota are so weak now. I wish if William was cheating, someone would commit a crime like secretly recording his conversations with the mistresses where he admits to the affair to get evidence. This, plus tampongate, shows me that the best way to expose an affair is by secretly recording lol.

It’s actually funny that anon said they became further convinced an affair is possible because Kate went home from the hospital unseen. That’s funny because it’s actually obvious. We don’t see them everyday. Of course they can move without being seen. Like obviously we wouldn’t catch William in the many many rooms of Houghton Hall where his secret rendezvous with the Marchioness probably is. ( Jk, don’t actually think this is what happens. Tbh I just said that to make that anon even more paranoid lol). Obviously their friends won’t talk. The rota said they searched for evidence but tbh theh probably didn’t work hard enough lol.

1 - Makes sense. I disagree slightly that they thought it was for the greater good - my political leaning and some additional reading I've done makes me see it more for the political activisim. On the one hand, yes, if Clinton (and any president) was abusing the privileges of his office, then absolutely, it should be investigated and it should be properly dealt with - as it was with the impeachment trial. But the investigation also did become a bit of a witch hunt by some of the people involved in the investigations, which made it feel more like partisan activism and ultimately hurt the actual impeachment.

I won't go much further because then we start getting into politics, but if you're interested, some things to check out:

Burning Down the House by Julian Zelizer

The Clinton Affair (2018 docuseries - available on Apple TV and most other streaming platforms)

the Monica Lewinsky chapter in The Rulebreaker by Susan Page (Barbara Walters' biography)

2 - No one goes after Bill Clinton anymore because he's not in the news anymore. He's a US statesman elder now so he gets trotted out every 4 years for the election and the inauguration, then he goes back into semi-retirement.

Also, Monica herself doesn't talk about the affair very much anymore either, which has helped "cancel" the story from the public consciousness when Bill Clinton makes a public appearance.

3- It's not that the journalists or the rota are weak now; it's that privacy and security standards have changed so much that it's harder for them to have that kind of access to infiltrate the inner royal circle. William especially is aware that all kinds of people are interested in his private conversations and would leap at the chance to hack his phone or his email (look no further than the hacking of Kate's medical records) so he absolutely safeguards everything as much as possible, with unlisted numbers, multi-factor authentication, strict password protocols, and a strict vetting of everyone they give their contact info to. If they even give their real contact information out in the first place.

Also, another anon - I think it was on another site entirely - said that the only reason the rota had that kind of access back in the '90s to hack the royal circle's phones was because Diana gave them the phone numbers in the first place. No idea if it's true or not, I'm just passing on what I read.

Edit: Diana giving the press the phone numbers has been confirmed true. Here’s the link: https://www.reuters.com/article/business/princess-diana-leaked-royal-directories-to-murdoch-tabloid-court-hears-idUSL6N0MA43E/

Thanks, @and-the-void-looked-back!

It’s actually funny that anon said they became further convinced an affair is possible because Kate went home from the hospital unseen.

That's not what the anon said. They said that because Kate went home from the hospital unseen, they're more convinced that William's cheating/affairs could be kept entirely private/out of public attention if he ever did cheat.

[aashiqeddiediaz]

wip game

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips

tagged by @nymika-arts (loml, you’re killing me with your wip)

(these are gonna be so succinct and organized of course)

untitled 1

untitled 2

puck off

milestone fic

eating fic

meteors

edges and bounds

untitled 3

post-wedding floof

grapes

fragility

lost in the sauce

hawaiian shirt

flower ficlet

the sound of your music

kkhh au

rival firehouse au

eyes on the prize

diaz sisters fic

buck hit by car roommate fic

untitled 4

a box full of love

the ways i love you

can’t love you in the dark

untitled 5

there are exactly zero plans to finish any of these. except maybe one. adjsakdj anyway...

tagging @oneawkwardcookie @madamewriterofwrongs @ao3theskyisblue @deareddie @renecdote @tripleaxeldiaz and @bieddiediaz if y’all want to!

[courtney-deserved-better]

telling myself i can't start another tdwt rewrite but dear god do i want to write one focusing on alejandro and courtney in this weird situationship thats a lot more nuanced than just alejandro manipulating courtney and her falling for it. like theyre best friends they dont trust each other theyre the same person they dont know anything about the other one theres a mutual attraction theyre pining for other people theyre codependent they dont care about each other theyre platonic soulmates like i just want to do a deep dive into how messy that relationship couldve been building off of their friendship that exists in my head except the line between romantic and platonic is so fucking blurred they have no idea what they are to the other person

[beatx-mavie-archangelx]

so y'all are trying to tell me that the problem is snow white being black and not whatever those terrifying things claiming to be the seven dwarfs are??

[welcometogrouchland]

Also, vaguely related to the last post: I do think sometimes ppl overstate the like. Importance of religion/Christian culture when writing about the Wittebane brothers-

(not that it's not a very strong element of the story that Philip is a critique of Christian institutions, but rather bc, based on what we know, both of them stopped holding explicit Christian values at some point during adulthood, if they ever really cared and weren't just witch-hunting for social clout/material gains like the reenactment in thanks to them shows. Philip only uses it as an ideological shield to buster his own notion of heroism, as in, he knows Christianity is Good but he can't be bothered to actually demonstrate it's values (like not murdering your brother) which fits with his primary metaphor as a colonist/modern conservative.(bc something something social norms and dominant groups and excuse to commit heinous crimes you know are heinous but are apathetic towards) and uh. I think it's safe to say Caleb wasn't super concerned about things like sex w/in marriage when he was already bumping a supposed 'servant of the dark' (Evelyn, my faceless darling beloved). Okay, tangent over)

-but I will be the first to admit that, as an ex-catholic, sometimes applying a twisted version of the imagery associated with Christianity to a story about murder and betrayal fucks severely. even if I don't think it would hold great significance to Philip as a person/character if he were to creepily hum "oil in my lamp" as he lights the ring of fire that he and Caleb have their death match in (he's sooooo culturally Christian who considers himself an enlightened atheist on Reddit core)...the idea and how it'd look to us as an audience? Based.

[fragmentedblade]

.

[igneouswyvern]

After replaying ys origin I've finally gotten brainrot for it which is probably overdue tbh

I'm so ill abt yunica she's such a lame character but she could be so much more

Please consider: yunica is half demon

No there is absolutely no basis for this headcanon in game. However there's also no counter evidence so you can never prove me wrong

She's too strong to be a regular ass human. She's stronger than like all the knights and all the magicians at like 17 or whatever she's supposed to be when the game takes place and there's literally no lore explanation for it. She's just crazy strong for no reason

But if she was part demon....that could account for the discrepancy

Also we know her father is human but her mother is never mentioned ever. I've concluded she never knew her mother and there's absolutely nothing that says her mother can't have been a demon

And I know this isn't canon but I keep coming back to that door you have to open with the evil ring. Like ik in game you just have to put on a protective necklace and then wear the ring to trick the door into opening for you but. What if yunica didn't need to wear the blue necklace. What if she could just put the ring on and be fine. What if putting on the ring even gave her demonic properties. What if those properties were innate to her all along. What if the evil ring is just a method of activation. What if she just needed to be exposed to demonic energy to reveal her innate demonic characteristics.

And what if there's nothing inherently wrong with being demonic. Maybe it's what you do with it rather than the fact of being demonic. But what if most humans are scared of demons by default anyways and assume they're all evil. What if the reason yunica spent so much time with the goddesses is because she didn't feel naturally comfortable around humans the same way. What if the goddesses were the only ones to accept her for being half demon because they've just seen so much there's no point in being frightened by it. They probably met yunica's mother too, anyways. And maybe yunica kept her demonic characteristics secret from everyone, from all her friends, because she was scared of how they would react to her. And maybe because the goddesses were the only ones to accept her for who she was that's why she's so devoted to them. Because they were her one true friends, the only ones who truly loved her unconditionally.

And maybe she has to reveal her demonic nature to her friends to get through that door, and maybe after the initial shock they begin to accept her as well. And maybe she slowly begins to be comfortable with her demonic side as well. Comfortable enough to be able to put the evil ring on again to tap into her extra demonic powers during tough battles. And maybe that's what she uses to fight Dalles in the end. Maybe it's not just sheer force of will that grants her victory, but her finally coming to terms with both of her halves.

Oh hm this got ramblier than I expected I apologize. Good night

[wolfiesmoon]

Hey I hope you are doing well when ever you are reading this but how do you think the 3rd year boys from twst would react to their s/o (gn reader) cuddling with a huge plush instead of them.

Like this.

Oh boy oh boy this kinda cures my writers block tbh, i have so many drafts but none of em look enticing enough to continue writing (´д｀|||)

I took out a few of the 3rd years bc its too many people for 1 fic but i might make a part 2 where i add the missing 3rd years at some point

i went with the more silly writing style again, hope that's fine by you ○( ＾皿＾)っ

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Malleus Draconia

He doesn't exactly get why, but he feels kinda annoyed just laying next to you while you hug a big ol plushie

This doesn't feel right🫤

But then again, you look rlly happy and satisfied so he stays quiet since if you're happy, he's happy (he desperately wants to be in the plushy's place)

When you playfully kiss the plush though, that rule no longer applies. After all, his rightful spot is in your arms🫠

He nudges you. "Put the stuffed animal away."

"You sound angry." You smirk and kiss the plush again, knowing he's probably annoyed about that

without another word, he pulls the plushy out of your hands and settles down in its place

"I am a much better than that object. Just so you know." he smiled smugly, expecting a kiss on the cheek just like you gave to the plushie earlier

you kissed him on the lips instead just to see his eyes widen and his face go red ofc 😏

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Leona Kingscholar

basically, it is NOT happening

"hell no." is the only thing he says before ripping the poor plushie out of your arms and chucking it across the room

like actually how DARE you try to replace him with a plushie

"Why would you do that?" You pouted at him, looking at the now discarded plushy from the bed🤕

"You know damn well why." He huffed, laying down on top of you without warning which tends to be a habit of his

"Because that's my spot, got it?" He answered for you. clearly you forgot😒

"Uhhh, right." you answered after a short pause...

"I won't remind you next time." he sounded rlly annoyed. it's kinda funny how worked up he got over a plushy replacing him 🤭

this also means he won't let you get up for like.... atleast 2 hours to atone for your sins

moral of the story: don't do this again unless you want a ripped up plushie and a pissed off lion man😠

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Idia Shroud

"This is so unfair. Even worse than an OP boss. " he sighed dramatically, laying down besides you and pouting at the sight og a huge plushie in your arms

"pick up the sock if you have enough energy to complain." you turned away from him, still annoyed with him

being the epic gamer he is (😎💯), he discarded one of his socks in the middle of his room and didn't feel like picking it up later even after you told him to

...which ended with you refusing to cuddle with him until he does pick up the sock

after a short while of very awkward silence...

he groaned in annoyance, begrudgingly getting up and finally picking up the sock, then leaving the room to put it in the wash

you smirked victoriously, placing the plushie away as promised and letting him hug you instead

"The things you make me do, smh." he sighed, relaxing into you 😒

"Picking up a singular sock?" you teased him, hugging him back

He didn't reply so that means it's your victory 😝

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Vil Schoenheit

this is an unforgivable offense, just because you had a little disagreement earlier doesn't mean you can just replace him with a plushie😠

love transcends disagreements, after all

does not help at all that the plushie's cute round face reminds him of a certain thorn in his side named Neige LeBlanche😒

he sighs, "I may have been too harsh back there."

your only reply is an annoyed huff and you hug the plushie tighter which makes one of those anime veins pop up on his face 💢

he takes a deep breath "It was not my intention to hurt your... sensibilities." he's trying babe, he's really trying

You don't reply for a moment...

"Ugh." you throw the plushie away and hug him tightly "This doesn't mean I forgive you, just for the record."

"I still stand by my opinion too, just worded less harshly." he gently puts an arm around you, stroking your back

it was only a matter of time until you gave up with your stubborn pettiness, soon you'll forgive him too, he'll make sure of that 😌

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Lilia Vanrouge

He's actually surprisingly chill about it i feel like

He wouldn't get annoyed or be jealous per se, he'd just get a little sad it's not him you're hugging😔

he's there, you know? there's no need for a plushie...

"Am I not satisfactory enough?" He asks half playfully half seriously

"In what sense?" you totally knew what he meant but just wanted to tease him back

"Hey, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?" he smiled at you, immediately knowing what you were playing at

"Hahaha, you know me too well." you kiss his cheek, yet you still don't let go of the plushie which makes him pout

"I see you have found yourself a new lover." his eyes travel to the plushie for a moment, the betrayal is real😔🙏🏻

"You got a problem with him?" you raised a brow 🤨

"A little." he hugged you from the back, getting comfy

"Okay fine, maybe my ex is the better one after all." you let go of the plushie and turned around to hug him back 💗

[mrs-monaghan]

Tbh I'm a jikooker, but I find it incredibly difficult to fit a healthy long-term relationship into the same timeline as all of jimin's solo work. It's not the pronouns or taking one lyric very literally, its the entire thing, plus comments from him and his producers. To me, you'd have to do some serious olympic level mental gymnastics to make that make sense. I don't doubt that jikook have a special bond, I've definitely seen things between them that definitely look like sexual attraction to me and things that surpass friendship boundaries, but I can't in good faith say that they're together in some official long-term way if I actually listen to jimin and his work.

I've seen some jikookers think they broke up for a while, but I have to question if those people have ever been through a breakup because the little bit of distance/separation/awkwardness we did see from them during chapter 2 is nothing compared to the type of tension that would be there if a relationship that intimate and intertwined had separated, especially considering the dark feelings jimin was feeling. He wouldn't have been cutely commenting on jungkook's lives and jungkook wouldn't have been asking to hang-out or getting excited to see jimin in his comments.

Idk, I'm sure someone could twist everything a certain way and only take certain things at face-value and then make everything else abstract, etc. to make the case that they are together, but I don't really see it. You look at face-off, alone, and just his general dark feelings during Face, then look at the creation of Muse and how him and his producers said he couldn't relate to the love-dovey beginning songs, which is how they ended up making Who (despite the fact that jikookers try to distance him from the song since he doesn't have writing credits even though he sat in the recording room telling them what he wanted and saying it felt like reading his diary). I think jimin could have very well gone through a pretty awful breakup along with the inner turmoil he was going through post-covid, but I don't think it was with jungkook if he did. I still enjoy jikook's bond either way at the end of the day, but yeah I don't really get how anyone can take an honest look at jimin's work and his words and think he was in a long-term healthy love-of-his-life relationship during that time or into chapter 2.

Not trying to change your opinion or anything, honestly I don't really see it discussed much in jikooker spaces (besides bad-faith stuff like tkkers stirring up shit over pronouns in lyrics which is just dumb) and when it is, some jikookers are pretty pick-and-choose about what they deem to be true to jimin's feelings and what isn't. Which I get being nuanced, but sometimes it does feel like a "well this fits my beliefs so clearly this is true to jimin and this doesn't so it means nothing because he didn't write it" or whatever. I honestly get annoyed with the bad-faith arguers because it prevents being able to have actual discussions about some of this stuff in our little jikooker corner of tumblr. Like "he said her, he's clearly straight! he danced with a girl, straight!" stfu.

I don't have much to say to you anon. Not really. Not anything that hasn't been said anyway. Which you've seen and decided its jkkrs doing mental gymnastics. "I'm a Jikooker but..." its never a great way to start a sentence. It just gives major insecure jkkr vibes which i just 😬😬😬😬😬😬�� you either believe in them or you don't. There is no if, and or buts.

I will leave you with this; over the years, antis and (insecure) jkkrs alike have always found a way to conclude Jkk aren't as close anymore or they broke up or some other bullshit. But what happens everytime Jikook resurface and we see them together again?

NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!

Nothing ever changes with these 2! They come back closer, more in sync, happier, more in love and their relationship more established than ever. This happens every👏🏽damn👏🏽time👏🏽 Everytime!

Then the insecure jkkrs will be like "jkk is real" again.

And then we will go without content for a while and once again we are back here with the jkk aren't as close argument. Once again. It is an exhausting cycle that I refuse to be a part of.

You can try and nit pick various reasons as to why Jikook aren't in an established rlship, but I will chose to focus on reasons why they are definitely 130000000% in a relationship. Like the fact that they are enlisted together rn, the fact that they could have done AYS with other members but chose eo. Or the fact that Jimin wrote his name on JK's chest with sunscreen and I dont even want to imagine how he did that. What position they were in that would justify people calling them brothers 😂

You do you anon. I'mma just be over here enjoying Jimin promote the hell out of his favourite JK song.

Tweet

Look at him so proud of his man 🥺🥺

[withleeknow]

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]

[aluciahaz]

God. First off, I adore your writing so much!! Can never get enough tbh.

Secondly, Adam with a mommy kink?? And he doesn't even tell you until he accidentally lets it slip outside of the bedroom during a normal conversation. At first, he tries to deny it or cover it up by saying he totally said a different word, but after a bit of prodding he's putty in your hands and now you most certainly have an issue to deal with later today. Poor baby can berely even focus on his daily tasks with how embarrassed and eager he is.

And don't even get me started on when you actually get him in bed. He's such a brat, but his hard on immediately gives him away. Whisper a few sweet words in his ear, and suddenly, he's mommy's good little boy.

ah TYSM for the compliment!! i try my best🙏 and you're SO REAL abt adam😭

this is a bit ooc and yes i skimmed over his daily tasks because i couldn’t think of anything sorry 😭😭 hope you enjoy though!

what a mess

—adam x gn!reader

—includes : mommy kink, sub!adam, dom!reader, crying

“adam, for fuck’s sake just be normal for once and put your dishes in the sink—“

“c’mon, babes! there’s a lot!”

“there’s only four! god, you were doing so good the past week too! even rinsing your plates! what happened—?”

“mommy plea—,”

“…”

“…”

“say that again?”

“i said—uh, i said MONSTER. cause you’re a heartless fuckin’ monster making me put all these plates away in the sink—”

a start to a new revelation bloomed right in front of you, just like adam’s increasing blush. you laugh in glee, this news bringing so many questions to your mind.

“don’t be coy. c’mon, baby boy. what did you really call me?”

“wh—cough—HUH?” his startled face said it all as he looked at you, dumbfounded. sure, you’ve called him a few names before, but they were more on the line of ‘idiot’ and ‘dumbass’ rather than something endearing like ‘baby boy.’

and he liked it.

it was clear he did. from the way he gulped nervously, to how his eyes dilated like a cat’s, you knew.

you cackle at his dramatic reaction before opening your mouth, about to brush over the topic for your lover’s sanity before something truly miraculous happened.

“…mommy.”

his eyes divert to the floor, clearly nervous about your reaction. he wasn't one to share his more vulnerable side. it took months alone to have him admit that he even had flaws for goodness sake, but this was a big step for him. an act of trust.

and you sure as hell weren’t going to reject it.

“good boy,” you coo, lifting his head up with your hand, a gentle smile on your face. you feel him hesitantly rub his cheek into you palm, looking up at you with a dazed expression of shock. it was evident he didn't expect you to react this way.

when you plant a kiss on his lips, he’s practically melting into your touch. usually, he’d try to dominate every action, fighting for control to support his unhealthy ego, yet this time, he gave it all to you; a blessing.

he moans into your mouth weakly as you push him back into the kitchen counter, making him lean his back over it as you deepen the kiss. you can feel his breath quicken, the increasing warmth from his cheeks, and his desperate hands clawing at your waist.

all signs for you to keep going. an invitation to ravage him and leave him breathless.

but you pull back.

he whines in annoyance, grabbing your shoulder in order to make you come back, but you click your tongue, flicking his hand off you.

“you still have to go shopping, baby. later, i’ll deal with you, alright?”

he groans in frustration, glaring straight at you. but, you stay firm in your decision. he needs to be responsible. knowing that you won’t budge, he sighs, grumbling as he leaves to do his monotonous work.

“so good for me!”

that makes him leave real quick, hurriedly slamming the door behind him. goodness, he was so easy to fluster.

finally, the day passes, and he’s back home, clearly still embarrassed yet excited for what would come next. not to mention, impatient.

“shit, babes! you have no idea how fuckin’ hard it was to shop with you on my mind! couldn’t even focus on my goddamn lunch—mmpfh!”

but you can’t blame him. you are too.

he’s quickly shut up with your lips and pushed down to the bed with a firm hand as you climb on top of him. you remove his clothes hastily, not caring where it lands as you practically manhandle him.

“turn around for me, baby,” you huff out, the both of you gasping for air from your rushed kiss.

he frowns, glaring at you with defiance.

“why the hell would i do that? i wanna see your face when i fuck you,” adam smirks, running his hands up your sides. the fool.

you roll your eyes, raising an eyebrow at him.

“who said you would be the one fucking me?”

his expression was almost comical. his eyes blew up, and his mouth dropped in astonishment at your forwardness. but, with you over his body, pressed flushed against every inch of skin, you could feel he was into it. really into it, in fact.

you chuckle at his reaction before flipping his body around, a surprised grunt leaving his lips before you kiss his nape, trailing your tongue across it.

the shiver up his spine was delightful, and you feel him relax under your body as you continued pressing kisses down his spine like you were following a path. although it was quite a sweet action, it was obvious that adam wasn’t one to wait for the main course.

“c’mon, babes! the fuck is the hold-up?” he gripes, turning his face to the side to scowl at you.

“is that any way to talk to me? i thought you wanted to be good,” you move up until your lips are right beside his ear, your hands slipping underneath his chest, inching higher and higher.

“you were so polite this morning, and so adorable too with your blush covering your face, your eyes unable to meet mine,” your tone is hushed as you speak, and for once, adam is quiet, only focused on listening to you.

with a grin, you feel the buds on his chest as you roam your hands under his torso, and you can’t help but pinch them ever so slightly, eliciting a gasp from the gruff man below you.

“i know you can be good for me, pretty boy,” you kiss the corner of his jawline as you keep teasing his chest, making him shudder and moan from your fingers.

“so why don’t you try again and ask nicely this time, alright?” you say, nipping his ear ever so slightly.

his breath is shaky, and although known to be the most egotistical angel in heaven, his pride crumbles underneath your sweet words, melting his brain like chocolate over a warm fireplace.

“please—please, touch me more,” he manages to say, stumbling over his words as he surrenders himself to you.

“please, who?”

“please… m-mommy—AH! ha—,” he keens as you twist your fingers, making him jolt in both pleasure and pain, digging his face into the pillow.

“good boy!”

the whine that leaves his throat is full of joy, pleased at your praise.

and you never let it up as the night goes on.

“taking me so well, baby boy,” you say, thrusting into him slowly as you let him get used to it. it was the first time he’s done this, yet it was like he’s done it for years considering how his back arches in a crescent-like shape as he pleads for more, his hands and knees staying somewhat strong as he keeps himself up.

“f-fuck, ngh! how are you so��good at th-THIS!” he cries out, gasping like forgot how to breathe as a particularly deep thrust hits that foreign spot inside him, making his knees buckle in response.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you tease, holding him by the hips as you pick him up from his faltering position.

your pace starts to pick up, and he seems to absolutely love it, his eyes closing in bliss as he moans wantonly. how has he not done this sooner? this felt fucking amazing!

so amazing in fact, he didn’t notice how he kept babbling on how it was—

“so good! y-yes, ugh, FUCK! yeah—mommy, keep—going, m-mommy!”

shortly, his head hits the pillow as his arms give up, a loud wail escaping as you keep driving into him, making him feel like his whole world was flipping upside down. his voice was breaking, and the rasp rolling off his tongue was starting to sound a bit painful.

but it was absolutely delightful to see him fall into pieces like this. to deteriorate into a whining, begging mess for you. for him to run his voice dry just to have you to touch him.

“m-mommy! ah! gonna cum, oh fuck—! don’t stop!”he shouts, his glossy eyes opening slowly as he turns his head to the side, panting as he looks up at you.

a mess, really. he was a beautiful, desperate, mess of an angel. so lovely, he was. the thin layer of sweat reflecting the lamp in the room made him truly look heavenly, and the tears that had started to run down his cheeks seemed to make him even more divine.

the state of him was perfect, and you can’t help but take a mental picture of him in your head for later before fucking him relentlessly, your hand making its way to his cock slowly.

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

and only with a few touches, he seems to unravel instantly, a broken scream filling the room as he finishes, his fingers gripping the sheets like his life depends on it.

you let go of his hips, letting him collapse onto the bed as he shudders in brief aftershocks, panting heavily with his hair splayed wildly on the pillows.

you wrap your arms around him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he keeps whimpering for your love, your care. he’s just his needy self now, his persona gone, leaving only his affection-craving, tender self in your hands.

“thank…thank you, mommy.”

adam has always been a messy man. and although it was usually quite irritating, you don’t mind cleaning up after him this time…

he still has to do the dishes tomorrow though.

tags : @luciferspetduck @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

how the fuck do i forget to add tags to every post

[arcadia-of-pluto]

In High Cotton || Rafayel (m)

Paring(s); LADS Rafayel x reader

Word count; 3,626

Themes; swearing, smut, plushie turning human (??), I write the word plushie a lot (I'm sorry), porn with a smidgen of plot, alternative universe

Warnings; Cunnilingus, fingering, slight choking, smidge of hair pulling, some degrading (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it up), some boob play, (do not expect a masterpiece of a smut— I didn't realize how rusty I was at writing them until I actually started 😞)

Notes; woah, 700ish notes on my most recent drabble! That's insane tbh. It almost feels like I should only write drabbles, and it wasn't even a smutty drabble either 🤔 I thought people were usually into smut?

Either way, I'm glad yall are liking it while I readjust myself to writing smut once again! I used to write smut SO much when I was younger and then I just stopped– but when I do write it again, it might have too much detail and I do apologize beforehand for that...speaking of, it's happening now btw! I'm going to try to write good smut for this. I got this idea for a short, one-shot hentai-ish Manga (it's called…”my plushie turned into a human” or something like that)

Also, lowkey, cotton doesn't even feel like a real word anymore 😭

|| Main Masterlist ||

In High Cotton;

//this Southern idiom means “to be doing well or living a comfortable life”; in comparison, to be ‘in low cotton’ would mean you're having a bad day//

“What are you, a child? Stop carrying around that stupid plushie! It feels like you care more about that damn thing than our relationship.”

Your head whips around to stare at your partner through a glare.

Oh really now?

You care more about a stuffed piece of fabric in comparison to your almost five years of dating this person?? Yeah, right.

Your partner was just trying to deflect this situation away from the fact that you caught them cheating.

They were grasping at straws to throw the blame on you and your cherished plush was the only thing they could throw at you…pitiful.

You've had this little plushie since you were little and, honestly, you didn't even remember what show it was from– if it was on one. Your childhood friend gave it to you shortly before he moved away and you've since forgotten what he even looked like.

The only memory of him being the purple haired, humanoid plushie currently clasped between your hands as you fought the urge to throw it at your partner.

And, tired of your silence, your partner left your apartment shortly after.

Now, you were left alone with your plushie.

You slowly swipe your thumb back and forth over its pinkish-blue eyes as you ponder just why you cherished it so much. Why you cherished Raf so much.

Yeah, Raf. That's apparently the name of the plushie. That's what your mom claims you called it throughout the years, so you had no reason to change it.

But yeah. You were unsure why it never left your side.

You always kept it in your purse, in your shirt pocket– it almost felt like an emotional support doll, at this point.

Anyway, you stand up from the floor and go lock your door so your partner couldn't barge back inside the apartment, even if they wanted to. Then, you decide to go to bed. You were off work for the next few days, so you could finally get some well deserved rest.

You quickly get changed into your pajamas and curl up in the bed with Raf in your arms. Your hand resting against the red beret on its head, thumb gently brushing over the small black bead on top of the hat as you drift off to sleep.

You wake up feeling…warm? Too warm, in fact.

You know you fell asleep with the air conditioner on, so there's absolutely no reason for the room to feel as warm as it does.

You grumble under your breath, wanting to go back to sleep as quickly as possible, and keep your eyes shut as you try to kick out from under the covers. You soon realize you can't do this, because you feel an odd weight holding you down.

If your partner snuck back in, you swear to god—

But when you open your eyes, you're met with an unfamiliar sight.

It's…a stranger. In bed with you.

Their hair, however, was oddly familiar.

Purple hair…

Nah, no way. There's no way your plushie suddenly turned into a human, but that would definitely make you feel less anxious than assuming a stranger was in your home.

You take a deep breath and glance around for your plushie. If you can find it, then this man isn't your favourite stuffed animal and if you can't– well, it could've fallen into the floor. You won't sink into the delusion that this man was Raf, until that was your final option.

You couldn't find it with just your eyes, so you attempted to wiggle out of the man's grasp. However, this only causes him to hold you tighter, his arms squeezing around your waist as he pulls you further into his bare chest.

…bare chest?

You blink a few times. Your head is close enough to touch the man's chin.

Fuck it.

You put your hands on his chest and desperately try to pull away from him, full on struggling since you've decided to not care if you wake him up or not. He came into your house, why should you be accommodating toward him??

“Hmm?”

You hear his tired voice as he finally removes one arm from your waist to rub his eyes, and the moment he opens then, you have no choice but to accept that he was your plushie.

Seriously, like what normal human has pinkish-blue eyes?? No one. Unless he's wearing contacts, that is literally your comfort doll.

You know it sounds crazy, but how else would this random guy know what your plush looks like?? Especially enough to copy its looks perfectly.

“Oh. Good morning, Y/n.” He yawns, stretching his arms up and that's when you snap.

You quickly sit up and move away from him, holding a hand out in front of you. “What're you doing in my house? You're not…Raf, are you?”

“You recognize me!?” He almost blinds you with his innocently charming smile.

“You're…joking, right? I mean, seriously, how am I supposed to believe that?” You say, half asleep but clearly not buying this act. You run a hand through your hair, brows furrowed and you could feel a headache coming on.

“Oh…you don't believe me..” he frowns, sitting up against the pillows. “Hmm…what can I do to make you believe me?”

“Uh…say something that only someone who knows me would know?” You throw your hands up in the air, exasperatedly.

Come on, how the heck were you supposed to know?? Though, you'd probably believe him if he said something personal.

“Raf” brings his hand up to rest under his chin as he contemplates what to say. After a few moments of silence, you stand up from the bed.

“Alright, if you're not going to say anything, then–”

“When you were seven, you threw up and ran into your mom's room crying because you thought you were dying…uh, oh also, when you were ten, you were trying to ride a bike and busted your knee open when you fell– you have a scar from it. At eleven, you accidentally punched a kid in the face and got into your first fight– that you lost, by the way. And at sixteen, you were going to lose your virginity, but your ex said you had to get Raf off the bed and you said, and I quote, ‘the doll stays’.”

“Raf” looks at you after he finishes talking with an almost proud looking smile on his face and you tilt your head to the side.

You…

…what?

You had no other choice, but to believe him now.

The scar on your knee would've been the easiest to guess, but the others? But you don't want to seem too gullible…

You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Tell me more before I make my decision.”

Surely he wouldn't say anything embarrassing, right?

“You've faked every orgasm with your current partner. You can only cum if—”

“Okay, okay!” You quickly place your hand over his mouth. Your face turns scarlet as you squeeze your eyes shut. “That's enough. I'll believe you for now.”

You feel something wet against your palm and jerk your hand back. “What the hell– did you just lick my hand??” You drag your hand against your pants to wipe it off, before shaking your head. “Look, go get dressed. I'm sure my ex has some clothes you can wear.”

You put an emphasis on ex, since you decided you weren't going to stay with that cheater the moment they left your apartment last night.

Then, you leave the room.

Honestly….Raf was a pretty decent roommate. Sure, he didn’t work, but you'd come back to a home-cooked meal after work every day. He'd do the laundry, the dishes, and he even painted on the side.

You weren't sure if he'd ever turn back into a plush, but you preferred him this way. With him as a human, you could talk about your day with someone, eat with someone…there's only one problem.

Personal space and…personal time.

You haven't been able to get off in almost a month– that's how long Raf has been human by now– and it has started to get to you. You usually aren't a very sexual person, but sometimes you just need to rub one out every now and again…and you can't with him constantly snuggled in the bed next to you.

Tonight was another night where you wouldn't be able to do what you wanted.

You let out a small sigh as you get settled in bed. The TV played a random show in the background as it illuminated the otherwise dark room. Raf laid next to you, one arm curled under the pillow so he could still watch the TV. He was shirtless too, so that made your conundrum even better.

“What's wrong?” He asks, not looking away from the TV and you quickly shake your head.

“It's nothing. Nothing at all.”

Raf shifts over to his side to look at your face, raising one of his eyebrows ever so slightly. “You haven't…Well, I mean, you usually do it once a week and it's been a month now–”

“Raf–” you sigh, covering his head with a pillow. “Shut up.”

He pulls the pillow down, so only his eyes are visible. “Do you still not see me as a man?”

“I don't want to talk about this right now.” You try to pull the pillow back over his face and he catches you by the wrist.

“I could make you feel way better than your ex did…” he trails off as he guides your hand to the front of his pajama pants.

You could visibly see a bump from over the covers and you choke on your spit as you felt something warm under your palm.

Something big.

“Raf…” you trail off, but you can't find the will to tell him to let it go.

His words made you curious…you wanted to know if sex could actually feel good or if he was just talking a big game.

What could he really know about sex, anyways?

He's only been human for a month now, so there's no way he could actually be good at it, right?

As you're lost in thoughts, your hand subconsciously squeezes his election and Raf tilts his head back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to hold back a groan.

“Earth to Y/n.” He hums, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Yes or no, cutie? I want explicit consent.”

You were battling with your thoughts, but you ultimately nodded your head.

“Use your words now. Your pretty lips aren't just there for show, are they?” The man taps his finger against your bottom lip and you let out an impatient sigh, “Yes, now can you please–”

Your words were silenced by Raf's lips crashing down against yours.

One of his hands ghosts down your body, fingers resting under the waistband of your pajama shorts, just a few inches from where you really wanted his touch. His other hand slides up your shirt, cupping a breast.

You feel the bed dip underneath you as Raf swings a leg over your body, fully pinning you to the bed as he continues his assault against your lips.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, but you playfully refuse to let him in. In retaliation, Raf’s fingers pinch around your nipple and harshly tug at it. A gasp escapes you and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue past your open lips.

The only time your lips part is when Raf leans back to tug his shirt off and takes off yours as well.

Now shirtless in front of the man, you can't help but feel a little self conscious.

Though Raf quickly dissuades your self doubt by dipping his head down to latch onto your nipple. His hand finally moved further into your pants. His index finger resting on your clit and you arch your hips up, trying to force him to move.

Your thigh stings in pain as you feel Raf's palm collide with your skin.

“Patience.” He murmurs against your chest.

His fingers draw lazy circles against your clit and, while it is pleasurable, you want more.

You dip your hand past his waistband and grab onto his dick. Your hand could barely wrap fully around it and you could only imagine how it would feel. It felt like it would hurt…a little. But what's a little pain?

Your hand lazily strokes Raf's dick, thumb dragging over his tip to collect a few drops of precum and that's when the man finally snaps.

His fingers move lower. His middle finger slowly glides inside of you and he gives you a few thrusts with his singular finger, before adding a second one. With both fingers sheathed inside, he makes a ‘come-hither’ motion with every thrust of his digits.

“R-Raf– wa—ah— wait..” Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder while your other hand pauses its movements. You try to hide your face in your shoulder, but Raf seizes your chin with a hand.

“Don't look away now, princess. I wanna see your face. Wanna see just how good I'm making you feel.” He tsks and pulls away for a moment.

He strips you of your bottoms, tossing them to the side as his big hands grip your thighs. His palm slaps the newly exposed skin before he taps your hands.

“Hold your legs up for me and don't drop them.”

You want to question his words, but don't. Instead, you wrap your arms under your knees and pull them as close to your chest as you can. It was, honestly, a really embarrassing position, but you couldn't help but get even more wet.

Your juices were tacky against your thighs and even dripping down onto the sheets below you.

“Raf…” you whine, wondering what's taking him so long since you expected him to fuck you already. But instead of his cock, you feel something else.

You feel something warm and wet against your clit, and a strangled noise comes up from your throat as Raf flicks his tongue against your pussy. His fingers going back to your entrance to slip inside as he wraps his lips around your clit.

Your head tilts back as moans spill from your lips. Raf's skilled fingers working at your center while he tongue draws figure-eights on your clit.

“R-Raf, inside. ‘Wanna cum with you inside, please?” You finally manage to say, your nails digging into your legs.

Your heart stutters in your chest as Raf makes eye contact as he eats you out. Only pausing to respond to you, his fingers still moving.

“You gotta be more specific, princess. I am inside you right now.” He teases.

As you open your mouth to answer, he curls his fingers and they just barely brush your g-spot.

“I want your di– ah, Raf, right there!” Your hips jerk with every thrust of his fingers and you can feel yourself growing closer to your first orgasm, but Raf has other plans.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for your climax, suddenly you feel empty.

When you open your eyes, you notice that Raf is licking his fingers clean.

A lazy smirk tugs at the man's lips and his hand disappears into his pants, freeing his dick from its confines.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his angry, red tip. The glistening precum. The way his hand drug against the length of it.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!”” Raf snaps his fingers with a pout. “Geez, you really know how to make a man feel like a pack of meat.” He taps the tip of his dick against your clit and your hips jump.

“Ah, what's the magic word, cutie?” His hand pushes down on your hips, effectively pinning them to the bed as he smears his precum across your clit.

“I…” You grit your teeth, squeezing your thighs before you finally let them go and hold your arms out. “Please fuck me.”

Raf's arms wrap around you as he finally pushes his tip inside and his voice of reason finally snaps. He was originally going to take it slow, to give you time to adjust, but the feeling of your tight, warm walls around his cock makes him unable to think straight.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon. Though there is a bit of skill to his thrusts, there's also a smidgen of inexperience mixed within it.

“You're so tight, cutie. Do you like my cock that much?” He hums, his lips dragging against the skin of your neck. He firmly presses his lips down, parting them slightly to suck a painful bruise on your neck.

His hips continue to snap forward. His cock languidly pumps in and out of your pussy. The obscene noise of skin slapping against skin, the sound of your bodies coming together, fills the otherwise silent room.

His thumb dips down to make quick circles against your lip as his cock brushes against your g-spot and he claims your lips once more.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging up his skin to leave deep red marks in their wake. Your moans are swallowed by Raf's lips. His tongue collides with yours and you briefly fight for dominance. You ultimately lose, though you didn't put up much of a fight.

The man pulls out and you're about to complain, but suddenly you're flipped onto your knees. Raf presses his palm into the small of your back and your face slams into your pillows.

His cock re-enters as he thrusts, his palm cracks down across your ass. You can't hide the moan that slips from your parted lips and Raf raises a brow.

“Oohh, someone's a bit of a pain slut?”

With this new knowledge, Raf pulls you up by your hair. Your back against his chest and his other hand glides over your body. His two fingers make quick circular motions against your clit and he releases your hair, instead wrapping his hand around your throat.

“R–Raf, please. ‘M so close.” Another noise slips from your lips as his cock just barely kisses your g-spot and you can feel his breath against your ear. “You gonna cum for me?” He presses a small kiss on your shoulder, his hand squeezing around your neck as he quickens his thrusts.

“Uh-huh…” you nod your head, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you try to hold back your moans. You could feel your juices soaking your thighs, could hear the evidence of your arousal with every thrust.

With one last precise thrust that brushes your g-spot, you cum.

You tilt your head back with a choked cry, your hips jerking as your walls spasm around his cock.

“Princess…” Raf groans, his hands tightly gripping your hips as he surges forward. Your body falls forward and your hands go out to steady yourself as he continues to harshly thrust. “Inside or out?”

You take a moment to think before you turn your head to the side, meeting his eyes. “Out, please.”

Raf flips you over onto your back once more and after a few more pumps, he pulls out. His hand quickly strokes his cock before his head tilts back and he moans. His tip shoots out strings of cum, painting your stomach and chest with white ropes.

“Fuck…” he takes a few breathes before you meet each other's eyes.

Then, you both laugh giddily and he dips his head down to gently kiss you.

“I'll go grab a washcloth to clean you up.” He smiles against your lips before he gets off the bed to head into the bathroom.

You sit up and stretch out your sore limbs while you look around for your phone to check the time. “Huh…I could've sworn it was on the bed..” You click your tongue and sigh, sliding off the bed to check if it fell into the floor.

Your hand pats around under your bed and you let out a small squeak of surprise as your hand brushes against something soft. You jerk your hand back, but notice your phone was on the floor. You press a hand against your chest to try and still your fast beating heart. Then, you turn on your phone's flashlight to look under your bed.

“Wait…” you squint, noticing something that looks oddly familiar and once you fish it out, your eyes widen.

It…was Raf.

Slightly dusty since it had been under your bed for a few months, but…this was most certainly Raf, your beloved plushie.

Your head slowly turns in the direction of your bathroom with wide eyes. If your plush Raf was in your hands then…who was in your bathroom?

The door swings open and Raf– no, the stranger walks out from your bathroom with a washcloth in hand.

“I think I'm going to need to do the laundry soon. This is the last clean on– oh, you found it.” The purple-haired man leans against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I– who…” you look from your cherished plushie to him. “You're not even…”

Then, he chuckles.

“You ever noticed the little black ball on his beret?” He taps a finger against his temple. “I gave you that when we were little…been watching you ever since.” He has a smile on his lips as if this was a normal thing to admit.

“You're—”

“Highly intelligent? Devilishly handsome?”

“—insane.”

“No, silly girl. My name is Rafayel. Don't worry, I'll fuck you a few more times so you can remember it.”

I tried my best and that's all that matters tbh 😭 I think it seems so bad because it's in second person and I'm used to writing smut in first. But I'm hoping I'll get better at it with practice!

Either way, I'm sure this isn't the worst smut you've read so I hope you enjoyed it!

Also, sorry there isn't a drabble this week! I might write one soon since I've got two days off 🤔 I'm not sure yet tbh

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Eternal flame of the heart

Rollo Flamme x reader because it's Glorious Masquerade season!!

Tbh I wasn't even planning on writing this but the idea just hit me out of nowhere so what was I supposed to do?

Warning(s): fainting/unconsciousness, Rollo is a bit of a creep, drugging, this is a short one but I still hope you like it!

Slight disclaimer: I'm very sorry if I mischaraterise Rollo, it has been a while since I actually read through the event, and I have not had time to reread it. As well as this, I'm sorry if I have forgotten or misremembered any important details of the Glorious Masquerade story. Okay, that's all, enjoy!

You climbed the bell tower, you made it through all the firelotuses... everyone has sacrificed for you to get here... everyone is counting on you.

Malleus, Idia, Azul, and you have made it successfully to the top floor, but... but then... then... something goes wrong.

Everyone... everyone except for you and Rollo just collapse... and now, you are alone with him.

You are alone with him.

What do you do.

"Hello, (Y/N)." Rollo greets you simply. You start to panic and grab a small, stray plank of wood off the floor, intending to attack him with it. You don't have magic, so this is the best self-defense you have right now... "Ah, there's no need for that. Put it down."

"Y-you don't tell me what to do." You try your hardest to stay confident, fully intending to whack him with the wood plank.

"You don't truly intend on hurting me, do you?" He smirks at you... so uncomfortable to look at. "Of course you don't. How would you expect yourself, a magicless human with no knowledge of this world, to get rid of all the firelotuses?"

"QUIET!!" You yell, preparing to swing the plank. "You... you, get rid of the flowers! All of them! Now! Y-you're the cause of this, so... you must know how to get rid of them!"

He moves so quick, it's almost like he glides across the floor...

"You are magicless. You are..." He leans in close to you, and whispers in you ear, "beautiful."

You were about to h him with your wood plank, but it very suddenly lit on fire?! You dropped the wood as it burnt your hand and Rollo stomped out the flame, leaning even closer to you... damn it, you should really pick that up again when he gives you the chance.

"So different from everyone else... so... pure..." He takes a deep breath before whispering to you again. "Your hair smells so wonderful."

You push him away from you, disgusted.

"What is wrong with you?! Why the hell would you do something like this, you... DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS WILL DO TO YOUR WORL-!?"

As you begin to yell, something is forced onto your mouth and nose... hang on... wait... what's happening...

"This is known mostly as poor man's sleeping poison, at least here, though I prefer to use the proper name for it." Rollo grabs you by the back of the head as well, in order to keep you from just avoiding what he does to you. That's not to say you don't struggle, you absolutely do, it's just that it doesn't do much for you... "That proper name of course being chloroform."

...shit...

"You'll be okay. The firelotuses won't hurt you. I won't hurt you."

...everything is starting to go dark...

"I'll put you somewhere nobody will find you. You won't have to deal with the troubles of this world, well, not that you would have had to anyways after I succeed."

...

"Good night."

[illubean]

Hi! Can you do a pianist user with Kurapika, Killua Feitan and Chrollo please?

HXH W/ a Pianist!Reader

Characters: Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika Kurta, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!Reader

kurapika's is so short but i was literally drawing blanks v_v

Warnings: none

Killua Zoldyck

doesn't care that much tbh

he never really had time to learn an instrument or listen to music

and he's literally 12, I doubt he cares much for classical or jazz type genres

if you figure out how to make a piano sound like an american rap artist call him

very indifferent to your talent soz

he'd be more interested if you played guitar or drums or something

Kurapika Kurta

he's content listening to you play but he never really requests it from you

he thinks you sound best when you play from the heart

so if you happen to be playing while he is around he will stop and listen for a while

he is very impressed if you write your own music

Chrollo Lucilfer

he likes watching/listening to you play

will gladly attend all of your recitals and performances if you let him

if you play in public settings like the mall or on the street he will be like a personal security guard, chasing away any kids who come up and want to mess with you while you're working 😭

this guy probably listens to a good deal of classical music and will have song requests for you on occasion

he thinks there's something so elegant to you while you play

overall very supportive 10/10

Feitan Portor

I actually think he would know how to play piano

he grew up in the slums and didn't have much time to do anything hobby wise after that but he still gives me pianist idk

if you leave this man alone in your house he will look around first to make sure you're nowhere in sight and then play your piano

and when you catch him he jumps 50 feet in the air like a startled cat and denies it

you're going to have to beg him to ever play again or duet with you

he'll never admit it but he enjoys playing with you

sometimes when he is in the mood to play he will wordlessly drag you to the piano and sit then look at you expectantly

[partycatty]

Do you write for other characters like bi han or tomas?

i do! i'm just mentally ill over johnny LOL

lin kuei trio > caught

the boys can't keep their eyes off of you! what're you gonna do about it?!

warnings: idk nothing much tbh, i guess a little nsfw at the end of smoke's part but nothing crazy, controversial bi-han take? kuai favoritism <3 & google translate

notes: pretend that bi-han's betrayal doesn't happen for his part. i rewrote this twice bc i kept accidentally clicking on notifs and forgetting to save. third time's the charm :3 also pls admire that i specifically made gifs of each man making eye contact w you teehee

masterlist <3

♡

bi-han >

•let me preface this by saying i heavily disagree with the headcanons of most of his fics. this man is ASS at verbalizing affection, and probably wants a trad wife to serve him. he won't call you "princess" or "doll," and PDA is not his strong suit. he'll love you of course, he just wouldn't show it with flowers and cuddles.

•that being said, all he could do was eye you down as you opened the front door, coming face to face with him, his brother kuai liang, and the fire god liu kang. your jaw opened and closed rapidly, trying to make sense of the two ninjas and man with glowing eyes.

•"uhh, there's no hunky ninja-themed bachelorette party here tonight," you say, raising an eyebrow. "try two houses down. lord knows they're a couple of freaks—" before you could close the door on them, bi-han reaches forward and sticks his foot in the door. liu kang, the primary voice of reason and supposed leader of the situation, asks to enter your home. you don't feel like you're in a position to decline.

•kuai liang wanders your living room, tracing his finger across your shelves and leaning in to inspect your paintings. liu kang stands in front of you, giving you the whole "earthrealm, fire god, tournament, chosen one" spiel, we all know how it goes. but you're struggling to focus, struggling pretty hard actually, because bi-han is literally standing like a statue at your kitchen island a few feet away, his icy glare seemingly stabbing through your skull. perhaps he's just intimidating you into an agreement. it works.

•you really hope that bi-han's staring ends there, but you are a damn fool.

•you train alongside the other recruited earthrealmers, taking a short break when you see a now-familiar trio stroll through the training grounds. yellow, grey... and blue. and even though their destination seems well past your location, bi-han literally could not tear his eyes away from you as you sat under the tree as you try to relieve yourself of the ruthless heat of the sun. he drinks in your damp form, and the way your hair sticks sweetly to your forehead. that is, until kuai liang gives him an obvious playful jab to his side, making bi-han snap forward and continue to lead his brothers, not before shooting him a nasty look. icy frost is noticeable on his fists as he clenches them.

•are you losing your mind? why the hell is the grandmaster of the lin kuei eating you alive with his eyes alone? you try to confide in your earthrealm partners, but raiden shrugs, kenshi's at a loss for words, and kung lao and johnny just laugh boisterously at your oblivious nature.

•finally, you're accompanying the lin kuei trio as they wait for instruction from liu kang regarding the soul stealing beacons. smoke and scorpion sit on the bench while sub-zero paces endlessly. each time he faces your way, he locks eyes with you. what is this guy's deal? it literally looks like he wants to skin you alive.

•kung lao and raiden permit them to enter liu kang's meeting room, and bi-han immediately struts off with a noticeable tinge of pink on his face. as the other two follow, you stop and grab kuai liang's shoulder gently, making him face you with surprised eyes.

•"pardon my hindrance, scorpion," you say with a quick bow. "but your grandmaster has been eyeing me down since as long as i've known him. is... is there something i did? something he is displeased with? i find it quite unnerving."

•kuai liang's face freezes, and then very clearly fights a shit-eating smirk. it's not typical for him to be as amused as he is now, but how could he resist when he could literally see what was going on? he chuckles for a moment.

•"bi-han thinks you'd make a good wife," kuai liang replies, a smile tugging at his lips. "please forgive his harsh expression. he couldn't shake it if he tried."

•with that, bi-han's younger brother turns on his heel and enters the mission debrief, leaving you beet red and suddenly completely understanding the signs after the fact.

•when the trio returns successful, you stop noticing his eye contact, because you're too embarrassed to even glance in his general direction. doesn't stop him, though.

♡

smoke >

•you were an initiate of the shirai ryu following its formation. disgusted by the betrayal of your former grandmaster, tomas and kuai liang beckoned you to carry on a new oath in a new chapter of the close-knit clan. you had not seen them much prior to this, but they didn't think to question your dedication.

•since reforming the clan and being given a higher position rather than a lowly grunt, your uniform changed. the once all-black, full-body uniform became something you could design. you opted for something a little more... breathable. think mk11 mileena.

•shut up i know ninja uniforms are like that for a reason just bear with me

•you decide to debut said outfit at a meeting over tea, strutting in and taking your seat with grace. tomas nearly chokes on his damn tea, a single puff of smoke shooting from his lips as he coughs. he wishes he had his mask on right about now, so he could conceal his reddening cheeks. you, his brother, and harumi look at him with partially perplexed, partially amused glances before moving on, hoping to save smoke from the embarrassment of being confronted.

•every time you leaned forward to point at the map centered on the table, tomas's eyes were glued to you. this poor man doesn't know what to do with himself when you're just so pretty! taking a gentle sip of your tea as kuai liang asks tomas about the new recruit, that hasashi boy, you glance up past the cup and realize tomas is quite literally giving you heart eyes, completely entranced. you chuckle to yourself. it is quite cute when he looks at you like that, lips parted and eyes gentle.

•"grandmaster," you say calmly, turning toward the pyromancer. "it seems your second-in-command missed your question. would you mind repeating yourself?" as you ask, tomas seemingly snaps out of it and tries to conceal his devious thoughts, putting his palm over his mouth and leaning on his elbow on the table.

•kuai liang groans to himself before repeating the question, one that tomas answers quickly and a little anxiously. he flashes you a sheepish smile. harumi giggles and look at the two of you knowingly.

•a long evening of training kicked your ass, and you decided you deserved a good rest in the nearby hot springs. fully confirming you're alone in the moonlight, you strip of your uniform and dip into the hot water. your tense muscles unravel at the warmth and you let out a pleased moan at the relief. the water reaches just above your breasts and you're about to lean your head back and close your eyes, letting the comfort of the water encapsulate you.

•that is, until you see a faint trail of smoke creep out from behind you and dip into the water around you. you smile knowingly, not even bothering to turn around.

•"tomas," you say, a hint of playful displeasure in your tone. "for a ninja, your stealth skills are starting to fall apart."

•your trained ears hear him freeze completely and let out a little gasp. tomas slips out a curse in his native language. now it's time to toy with your food.

•still in the water, you spin around and prop yourself up against the ledge of the hot springs, looking up at him seductively. tomas breaks from his deer in headlights pose and faces you, looking down and trying so incredibly hard to remain focused on your eyes, but it's just so hard when your breasts are right—

•"i've seen the way you look at me," you confess in a sultry voice. "i'm not a blind fool. it's incessant."

•"i-i didn't think you were," tomas stammers out, crouching down to be more eye level with you. "i meant no offense, you're just so... so—"

•"none taken," you chuckle, tilting your head. "were you going to be a peeping tom, or join me, then?"

♡

kuai liang >

•since being recruited for earthrealm's part in the tournament, kuai liang has paid more visits than probably necessary to run into you during your months of training.

•he'd be all like "omg heeeey what are youuuu doing hereeee" knowing damn well of your schedule (i'm lying i'm just in love with this yummy little s'more).

•though he would get into the habit of taking late night strolls around the wu shi academy to clear his mind. it was happenstance that you enjoyed the same habit.

•this man is huge and hunky, giving you comfort and safety as you navigate the moonlit paths of the land. he finds you to be a sweet conversation partner, carrying yourself with elegance and kindness that perfectly compliments his humble, noble spirit. you speak of a passion to fight for what is right, so focused on speaking and gesturing that you don't even realize kuai liang is staring down at you with utmost admiration. his heart warms (more than usual) at what a catch you are — for the tournament...!

•"tell me, scorpion," you speak up, looking up at him with eyes that could melt. "are you the only of your family to harness the power of fire?"

•"it is a long running ability in my family," kuai liang replies, confidently but with a gentle tone. "the methods in which we harness this power are a well-kept secret."

•"even so, scorpions don't burn," you reply quickly with an amused tone, grinning up at the man. you realize he was already looking down at you with a mirrored smile. "what makes you a scorpion?"

•"my strength and sting," he says as if he were reading a script. then again, he's probably been asked this hundreds of times. his brothers were icy sub-zero and hazy smoke, his name didn't exactly fit the narrative.

•as you part your lips to continue your conversation, a gust of wind makes you shiver and you let out a little gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. kuai remains unfazed but takes note of your chilliness.

•"are you alright, xiǎo huǒhuā?" he asks with a hint of uncharacteristic concern. your face warms momentarily at the nickname, only to be reminded of the bitter cold with another gust of wind. it wasn't the first time he said that unfamiliar phrase, but you just never thought to ask about it. reflecting on it now, you're realizing it's a pet name. you rub your arms.

•"just... cold," you reply with a trembling lip. "times like these i wish i had your power." for the first time in a while, kuai liang breaks his gaze from you and looks down at his hands, debating whether or not to speak up. he didn't want to push any boundaries with you, as he genuinely enjoyed your presence. still, he decided he's only got one shot.

•"it's a power i'm willing to share," he replies lowly, sticking his hands out palms-up. you look up at him, hesitant about his offer. another gust of wind, harsher this time, pushes on your back and pulls you toward him. you catch yourself on his hands. they're so warm and inviting. they're not necessarily soft, but they feel comforting and... god, so warm. as you sigh with relief, you look up again and realize that, just like every time beforehand, kuai liang was looking down at you with a soft smile. he was just always warm as a pyromancer, heat creeping through his skin no matter the weather.

•you two had successfully broken the barrier of touch, and you continue to walk down the path. kuai holds both of your hands in one of his, the other wrapped around your shoulder and rubbing up and down your arm to keep you from being too chilly. it's a sweet embrace, one that neither of you want to fully unpack yet, but it's a step nonetheless.

•"why is it that every time i look at you, you're already looking at me?" you ask quietly, enamored by his embrace. kuai tenses up momentarily, feeling a little sheepish at the direct confrontation. he soon relaxes after finding the right words.

•"because you're beautiful, xiǎo huǒhuā," he replies gently, squeezing your arm and hands tenderly.

•"what does that word mean?" you ask, face flushed and entire body no longer concerned over the cold.

•"...little spark."

•and so, you two continue to walk down the path in the moonlight, now in his comforting, toasty embrace.

[notyourhetloki]

freak (Logan x Wade)

/NSFW Logan x Wade/

A/N: Hey theree! This one's a personal project of mine, I'm actually really proud of it and I hope you guys enjoy! It isn't a x reader like I usually write, but I wanted to try something new ;) I love these guys so much ughhh

Tags: nasty porn tbh, rough sex, anal, unprotected sex, bottom!Wade, top!Logan, Wolvie is feral and Wade is really into it, blood, pain play, a bit of feelings (especially in the end :3).

Word Count: 2.7k

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It is a well-known fact that Wade Wilson doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up. His non-stop banter would take him places he wouldn't go with a gun (but he always brought one just in case), and many times would make him end up in a fight. His Wolverine, on the other hand, appreciated silence.

Logan Howlett was mostly a quiet man, pondering to himself most of the time. He could make a sassy commentary here and there, but in the end, he thrived in introspection.

He knew moving in with Wade would be a challenge, but deep down he liked having his company. He would never admit it, but Wade made the effort to understand him that many people didn't care to make, and Logan valued that... that and the always-present sexual tension between them.

But that doesn't mean Wade wouldn't get on his nerves. The younger man was a shit-talker and a joker, never missing a reference and definitely never missing a chance to comment on what Logan was doing... especially if that meant teasing him.

You see, Logan had a 'bad' habit of scratching himself when he had an itch. Sounds normal, right? It would be... if he didn't do it with his claws.

The first time Wade saw Logan using his claws to scratch his arm, he didn't miss a beat and immediately mocked him about it.

"Got an itch, kitty cat? Be careful ther-"

"I know what the fuck I'm doing." Retorted Logan, already irritated at his roommate.

The second time it happened, Wade witnessed Logan scratching his chin. It was too funny to not point it out, so of course he had to say something. "Trying to shave yourself this time? May I present you to a little gadget called Gillette?"

Logan didn't respond, only glared at him in annoyance.

But the third time... that was when things escalated. Logan was sitting on the couch, manspreading while using his claws to scratch his crotch. It was quick, but of course Wade noticed it. Wade's mouth was left agape at the sight, shocked and amused at the same time.

"Ok... you definitely outdid yourself this time, friend. Thank God for your adamantium balls." He teased while laughing, standing right in front of his target.

"Shut up." Said Logan in a huff, averting his eyes.

"No, really! Like, that was badass! Scratching your ballsack with three super-sharp blades? You're a freak."

Logan momentarily froze at that word, slowly getting up from the sofa and getting close to Wade so he could intimidate him. "Come again?"

"You're a... freak? Just like me, mutton chops. We're both freaks." Wade tried justifying, but to no avail.

"I'm no freak, pal. Call yourself what you want, but don't drag me into it." Logan pointed a finger to the other man's chest, poking him to make his point.

Wade suddenly felt self-conscious for once and realized... Logan probably had a history with that word, and it was definitely not a good one. He quickly recovered and tried explaining himself to him. "Noo, you don't get it... freak is a good thing! The youths say it all the time, it's a slang!"

"I don't care what the youths say, I'm not buying it." Logan protested.

"I say this with love, Wolvie... I get it. But after all, there's nothing wrong with being a freak. Isn't that the whole X-Men premise?"

Logan thought for a moment and realized Wade was right. The X-men taught him to not be ashamed of himself, to not let anyone dictate who he was. But words still had meaning and maybe he could resignify them, empower himself and recognize... maybe he was a bit freakish.

He looked Wade up and down before distancing himself slightly. The realization only made Logan even more aware of the fact Wade wanted to connect with him... and he found that extremely endearing.

That attraction grew with every passing day, like an unwanted visitor, a tumor... gnawing at his chest and consuming every thought he had. He wanted Wade with an intensity he could only describe as needy, feelings getting too loud to ignore.

"Maybe you're right..." Logan admitted, finally making eye contact. Wade smiled sweetly as he crossed his arms, giving his roommate a look that made his breath falter.

Logan hadn't noticed Wade's appearance up to that point, he was wearing shorts and a plain white T-shirt. Wade was showing a lot of his scarred skin in that outfit, and Logan couldn't help but stare... a known heat growing in his belly from the tension rising in the room.

Tension that grew bigger when Wade slightly turned his head sideways, observing Logan's eyes roaming through his body. Logan knew Wade knew, and that only made things worse.

“You know what? I think we match each other’s freak, munchkin.” Breaking the silence, Wade made an effort to maintain eye contact, arms still crossed in a bratty way.

“You sure about that?" Logan licked his lips and also turned his head like a puppy, keeping Wade in his place with his stare.

“Yep! But in reality, I don’t think you could handle my freak, peanut.” Wade tried teasing, feeling his body warm up with anticipation.

Logan scoffed with a laugh, turning to walk away. "Yeah, right."

“But I’m sure you could try!” Desperately said Wade in an effort to keep Logan close... and it worked.

Logan turned towards him and slowly walked in Wade's direction, who had to walk backwards so they wouldn't collide. When Wade's back hit a wall, Logan finally spoke as he got inches close to his face. "And why would I do that?”

They were close enough to breathe each other's air, smell each other's scent and look at their own reflection in each other's eyes. Their hearts were beating fast, and no rational thought could deny what they felt at that moment. It was pure raw tension, a build-up that took ages to finally reach its peak.

“Because it would be fun! And because… I really really want you to.” Wade's voice got serious at that last part and made shivers run down Logan's spine. Was he being honest? Did Wade want Logan as much as Logan wanted him?

He didn't have time to think before acting on impulse, staring at Wade's lips for only a moment before grabbing him by the T-shirt and kissing him hard. Wade immediately reciprocated, tongues meeting halfway while his hands moved to Logan's face.

One of Logan's hands still grabbed Wade's shirt while the other traveled to his waist, pulling him even closer. They kissed roughly and quickly, as if they had wasted so much time. Logan bit on Wade's lip and grunted as the other man moaned in response to the pain, ecstatic with the waves of pleasure that the bite provided.

Logan could taste Wade's blood in his mouth and that only made him hornier, a sudden need for violence and sex that he knew only Wade could handle.

"I wanna hurt you... real bad." Logan groaned at Wade's bruised lips, looking into his eyes while strongly holding him by the waist.

"Show me what you got, babe." Wade was enthusiastic, ready and really horny. Nothing could take that away from him at that moment, and a little bit (or a lot) of pain was definitely a plus in his mind.

Logan's eyes grew darker as he helped Wade take his shirt off before taking his own as well. They both stared at each other's chests before roaming their hands, exploring... it felt electric and so so good.

When he couldn't hold back anymore, he lowered his head to bite on Wade's shoulder, teeth tearing flesh and drawing blood while Wade hissed in pain with his eyes tightly closed. Logan realized he couldn't stop, biting and marking Wade's already scarred skin like he was a hungry dog while the other man clung to him to anchor himself.

Logan’s heightened sense of smell could usually capture people’s fear and anxiety, but Wade didn’t exude that particular scent, no… he was aroused. Logan could smell it coming out of his pores like his very own perfume, it was intoxicating and didn’t fail to drive him even further into his frenzy.

"You like that, huh?" He said between bites, sharp canines piercing rough skin and causing Wade to moan beautifully. "Fucking depraved."

They could feel their boners rubbing on each other as they moved and connected their groins together, their sensitive members absolutely desperate for more direct contact.

"Ha, if I'm depraved then what are you, Mr. Sadomasochist?" Wade's breathing was erratic as Logan abruptly turned him around and pinned him facing the wall, tearing his shorts and underwear with his half-exposed claws as he tried to remove them.

The claws lightly scratched his exposed ass, healing almost immediately as Logan squeezed the tender flesh. He spat on his fingers and promptly started massaging Wade's hole, easing in not-so-gently and fingering the younger man.

"Holy shit, Logan..." Wade's voice trembled as he felt his roommate's fingers in and out of him harshly, the burning sensation felt so good it made his dick throb in anticipation.

The sound of his name coming out of Wade's mouth was enough to wake something dark in him. Logan rarely heard the other man calling out his actual name, but when he did... it always managed to fuck him up.

"You're ready for me, bub?" Logan's deep hoarse voice vibrated into Wade's ear, a last act of gentleness before he knew things would get nasty.

"I was born ready." Wade softly affirmed, his cheek and hands pressed into the wall, bracing himself.

Logan lowered his sweatpants and his cock immediately sprung out as he removed his fingers from the other man. He spat on his hand again and stroked himself a few times before slowly entering Wade's ass until he was balls deep into him.

Wade couldn't see it, but he felt that Logan's cock was huge (just like he had imagined)... filling him up completely and hurting him in the best possible way. "Ah... fuck..." He couldn't stop cursing and moaning, his own dick already dripping with a bit of precum.

"Yeah... so fucking tight..." After Logan buried himself inside Wade for a bit, he finally started moving. It was inconsistent at first, out of rhythm, but soon he found a good hard pace that only got more urgent with every thrust. "I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna start seeing stars."

"Oh, God..." Was all Wade managed to say before one of Logan's hands traveled to his neck, squeezing his throat and choking him dizzy.

Logan's other hand grabbed so hard on Wade's waist that his fingertips dug into his skin, leaving bruises that he would definitely remember if it wasn't for his regeneration factor.

Wade arched his back even further at the feeling, matching and meeting Logan's movements causing the man to almost cry out at the sight.

He pulled Wade's hips towards him to meet his every thrust, fucking him like an animal while biting on the other man's ear. Logan grunted from pleasure, taking out all of his frustrations without having to feel guilty about it.

Wade was in pure bliss, getting railed by his super-hot roommate while being choked silly. He couldn't talk, but he could definitely still moan and make obscene noises while his neglected dick achingly throbbed. Logan was right, he was definitely seeing stars at that point.

The bites Wade received were constantly healing, but Logan opened the wounds repeatedly with his teeth while never stopping pounding into his ass. He let out animalistic sounds, feeling out of his mind as Wade squeezed around him and moaned loudly. Everything was so overwhelming but so damn good, he couldn't get enough.

Wade's sweet spot was being abused again and again with every thrust of Logan's cock, achingly getting hit by the member and causing electric pleasure to run through his body. Wade could feel his orgasm growing inside rapidly as Logan squeezed his neck tighter, biting his shoulders while snarling and cussing.

If he could talk at that moment, Wade would be saying "Fucking hell, please don't stop.", but all he could do was shake through his climax. He came untouched, strings of his cum shooting between the wall and his stomach while he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

Logan noticed the whole thing, not letting go of the other man as Wade's legs slightly turned to jelly. "Fuck, Wade..." was all he managed to speak through his ragged breath, still not stopping his hips from moving.

He stopped choking Wade and concentrated on holding the younger man's waist as he furiously rammed his hips forward, barely taking his member out before thrusting again... it was quick, dirty and messy. The slapping sounds their bodies made together only fed into his uncontrollable state, and of course, Wade's moans made him absolutely feral.

Logan was close, quickening up his already wild pace for one last moment before biting on Wade's shoulder again and coming inside him. He growled against Wade's skin as he closed his eyes shut, pleasure waves hitting him in a way he had never felt before.

They stayed in that position for a while, Wade's body flush against the wall as Logan leaned forward, now resting his mouth on the other man's shoulder. They breathed in and out deeply, exhausted and dumb from their respective highs as their bodies tingled with energy.

"Oh, wow... holy shit." Wade started giggling to himself, not believing what just had happened. "Are you alright, peanut?"

Logan inhaled and exhaled through his mouth, eyes still closed in an attempt to ground himself. "Yeah... I'm fine." He was more than fine, in fact, he couldn't remember a time when he felt so fucking satisfied... but of course, he would never admit it.

Logan opened his eyes slowly to see he was still inside Wade, so he slowly retracted himself and watched as cum dripped from his roommate's hole. It was then that he realized what had happened, and a wave of worry hit him like a brick. "Are... are you good, bub?" Logan's voice was serious, a hint of concern that Wade immediately picked up.

"Better than ever! But I appreciate the worry, sweetheart." Wade said, turning around to face the other man and raising his arms to rest on Logan's shoulders.

"I wasn't worried." Logan lied, not willing to give in so easily. He looked at Wade's shining hazel eyes and felt tightness in his chest, and in that moment he knew he had fucked up... he was down bad.

"Sure..." Wade's eyes were fixated on Logan's mouth, not being able to resist as he quickly made his way to kiss the man. That kiss was more tender, slow and sensual and full of feeling. Whatever Logan was repressing at that time came to the surface with such intensity it made him feel dizzy, holding tightly to Wade's waist and drawing him closer.

They kissed for a few good minutes before separating, still panting as they looked into each other's eyes. In a brief moment, Logan closed his eyes and decided to touch foreheads with Wade, who reciprocated the gesture gently.

"You're gonna make me fall for you, Wolvie." Wade whispered earnestly, petting the back of the man's hair. Logan purred at the sensation and felt his chest swell again with feelings he couldn't quite keep secret anymore.

He didn't want to be vulnerable, but honestly... he had tasted Wade's blood, fucked him silly and cummed inside him, maybe being a little vulnerable was only fair at that point.

"Good." Logan responded, opening his eyes at the same time Wade opened his. They looked at each other again, foreheads still touching while Logan drew circles on Wade's skin.

Wade smiled sweetly and Logan smiled back shyly before closing the gap again and kissing him gently.

Logan was never a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but if there's one conclusion he could take from that experience... it's that he and Wade were freaks, and freaks were meant to stick together.

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