#even then it’s nothing like it was meant to be 😔

[goddessofroyalty]

i went through the zaun family au tag (plus a little of work/life balance but i prefer the former lol sorry!) and i dont think youve gotten into many details of how jayce and viktor cope with a newborn baby? clearly viktor wants to go back to the lab asap, and he does carry naph around in a sling, but it's not something he can do like. the next day after popping out that kid.

(admittedly i just want more of jayvik + their baby 😔 you manage to get them soooo right)

Glad you've enjoyed it.

I don't think I've rambled much about Jayce and Viktor with their newborn (more about once things have settled).

Because we are basing this in Zaun Family I'm going to stay with a comparison. I think where Silco during those early days after the birth kind of curls around the newborn to the point where even Vander has to convince him to be able to see them and that only getting more intense the worse the labor and delivery are, Viktor during those early days kind of dissociates and leaves the baby caring to Jayce and it goes on for longer/is more intense the worse the labor and delivery are. He's in a least a decent amount of pain, has gone through an intense experience, and hasn't been able to (and still can't) return to his lab to like 'ground' himself with his work. I've heard some people talk about feeling like their body wasn't their own in those very early hours/days after giving birth and I think Viktor falls into that camp.

I do think both Jayce and Viktor knew that Jayce would probably be doing the bulk of the baby caring in the days immediately following the birth. They didn't have a sit down conversation about it but they know Viktor will need to rest and recover and Jayce kind of needs to do it to help his own feelings of uselessness throughout the pregnancy. It does frustrate Viktor because they're meant to be partners and right now Jayce is doing most/all the work while he's basically stuck in bed recovering but also... Viktor did all(/most - Jayce was a very attentive support through the pregnancy) of the work to that point. Viktor doesn't do nothing but at the start all he can kind of do is hold Naph while Jayce organises things.

Obviously as Viktor heals and is able to do more (and return to his lab - that probably feels like a turning point day of being Himself again for him) the dissociation fades and they more find their rythm together and it does end up being that more equal split that I've talked about previously.

Ximena also probably basically moves in with them the last days before Naph is born and for that early period while they are adapting. But she is very much the Good example of a grandparent moving in when the baby's born. She's there if they need her but is mostly dealing with the day-to-day life stuff (you know organizing food, doing the dishes, emptying the bins) so they don't have to think about it while they adapt to life with a baby (and while Viktor is kind of out of action).

[aeonophagic]

SQUELCH

[chirpsythismorning]

Just watched Brokeback Mountain for the first time and I need to talk about it.

Throughout the movie, we see Ennis experience a lot of intense discomfort and fear at the idea of being intimate with a man, despite it becoming abundantly clear in the details and based on his actions that that is indeed what he wants. He even admits to Jack that this fear stems from an experience he had at a young age, when his father showed him two men who were presumed to be lovers (they were roommates vibes), murdered and castrated, with him basically using it as a lesson to show Ennis that being gay was wrong and would get you killed.

Jack on the other hand was a little less discomforted or fearful at the idea of being with a man, in that we actually saw him return the following summer to Brokeback Mountain hoping Ennis would be there, only for him to show up alone. We saw how after this he confidently approached a man at the bar hoping to get to know him, only to get rejected and risk getting hate crimed (foreshadowing 😭). And we saw how, over time, Jack’s struggle had more to do with being hurt over Ennis’ unwillingness to commit or even just consider the possibility of them being together long term, even despite the risk of being gay in the 60’s.

Near the end of the film, upon Jack’s death, Ennis discovers from his father that over the past 20 years since they met at Brokeback Mountain, Jack constantly brought it up to his folks, how Ennis, his friend, was going to move up to their ranch and they were going to build a cabin and live together and take over for the family.

Jack was often the one in the moment taking the chances for them to be together. He was the one who mentioned that they could go to Mexico, with Ennis furiously rejecting it saying ‘you know what happens to people like you there??’

But what’s even more painful, is that in this same scene, Ennis’ acknowledges the truth more directly, and why it’s so painful is because it ends up ironically coming true:

Here, Ennis is basically saying that if he decides to be with Jack for real, aka faces his queerness head on, that’s going to be the thing that gets them (Jack) killed. Shortly after this, Jack loses it and has that infamous ass monologue, followed by Ennis breaking down over how it’s Jack’s fault that he’s this way in the first place.

In the end, when Jack dies, Ennis finds out about what happened from Jack’s wife, Lureen Newsome, who said Jack was pumping up a flat out on a backroad when his tire blew up, with the rim of the tire slamming his face, breaking his nose and jaw, and knocking him unconscious on his back. By the time someone drove by on the deserted backroad, he had drowned in his own blood.

The audience might’ve believed this story, if it wasn’t for how rehearsed it sounded coming out of Lureen’s mouth, but it also doesn’t help that images of Jack being hate crimed as his true cause of death are flashing across Ennis’s mind in real time while Lureen is telling him about the ‘accident’.

While it’s left up to interpretation, it’s implied from what his wife and father said, that Jack was hate-crimed by his father in law, with it being covered up.

Broken nose? Broken jaw?… Those are the kinds of wounds someone endures after being beaten up. And if it’s happening to the point of death, then he was essentially beaten to death.

This then fits into what Jack’s father said, because apparently, shortly before he died, he’d told his father he’d found a different friend that was going to come up there to the ranch with him. And so it’s very likely Lureen’s father caught wind of this as his plans to leave neared, leading to his murder (Jack also bitched his father in law tf out in an epic way, which on its own felt unnecessary in the moment, but within the context of this makes a whole lot more sense).

Either way, it seems Jack waited for Ennis to change his mind. 20 years he waited, and when Ennis didn’t, Jack finally moved on with someone else who made an offer of his own years before, only to get murdered just as Ennis feared he would if he decided to live his life authentically.

Ennis initially found out like this, in a postcard that bounced of him inquiring Jack about seeing each other again after that last massive fall out where they had, only for Ennis’s worst fear to be realized:

Nov 7th with deceased stamped across it has me spiraling 😭

Now, obviously Brokeback Mountain is one of the most well known queer films of all time, like there’s no denying that. So it’s fairly easy to assume ST could be taking some inspiration from this film just like they have with hundreds upon hundreds of other films. But especially if they are planning to go the queer route, homage to this film is pretty much guaranteed (there’s also one more reason it might be guaranteed, but I’m saving that for the end 🤣).

Regardless, as you can probably already tell, it’s very easy to see similarities between Ennis with Mike and Jack with Will.

Mike getting the ‘you see Michael? You see what happens?’ treatment from his father, in the first episode in the series, is very Ennis coded in that this is a TV show that follows that up with seasons of Mike pushing Will away from him, with it leading to a boiling point where he says, ‘What did you think? Really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement in play games for the rest of our lives?’ with Will responding, ‘Yeah. I guess I did. I really did,’ aka extremely Jack coded.

The really epic thing about this though, is that ST is clearly going on a different journey than Brokeback Mountain did, in that it’s simply subverting the bury your gays trope. While they are acknowledging the risk of being queer in the 80’s, they’re not letting it end ‘realistically’ like many people have insisted it must because that is the only option. And this will be a satisfying ending because it’s coming as a response to all those heartbreaking stories before it that have reinforced this idea that happy endings just aren’t an option for gay people who simply want to be together.

While Ennis and Jack didnt get their happy ending like they wanted, Mike and Will on the other hand 😏

And last but not least, on a more hilariously ironic note, the guy who Jack was going to settle for in the end instead of Ennis, was a guy named Randall Malone, played by none other than David fucking Harbour.

[timothyslucy]

wish i had someone to watch sailor moon with. :(

[protaetia]

🐞

[starlightbright]

RIP Ricky September they had to kill you because it would have been unrealistic to not keep you on as a companion 😔

EDIT: I've noticed some people taking this post really seriously, so to clarify: no, I don't think Ricky was literally a perfect uwu anti-racist angel. This post was mostly a joke about how he was running around doing companion shit and, most of all, how the Doctor and Ruby both thought he was a hottie. My actual feelings about Ricky are that he's a complacent white liberal. Character reading under the cut if you want an explanation.

I do think the implications of making him unplugged from the racism bubble, paralleling him with the Doctor (man who shows up with knowledge about history and technology and guides the other character through dangerous situations), and directly contrasting to Lindy (including being open to trust the Doctor without second guessing him the same way Lindy and all her friends did) are supposed to be that he wasn't like the other people there and is thus LESS racist since racism comes to be what defines their society. I've seen some people basically ask "then why'd he move to White People City?" but within the text it's actually Rich People City; the reason everyone there is white is because systemic racism financially benefits white people. Making him LESS racist is NECESSARY to giving his death any meaning - because if he definitively would have called the Doctor a slur and walked away, then the Dot killing him quickly was a mercy kill because we KNOW all the other residents are going to die in the wilderness.

THAT SAID, I also don't think he was a progressive anti-racist. Do you know what Ricky actually is? A white liberal. He might disengage from the White People Bubble, he might not be outwardly cruel to black people, but he's still surrounded by people who are and benefits from a system where ONLY WHITE PEOPLE ARE RICH. The culture might be fucked, but he still benefits from it without doing anything to actually fight it. It's like how many a white liberal will read about the history of slavery, feel sad about it, and then be uncritical of prison labor. If Ricky was meant to be progressive, there'd be something, ANYTHING in the text about how he's tried to educate his followers on their society's problems, but it got deleted. He is COMPLACENT.

That's sort of the point, I'd say, since the theme is about how priviledged white people put themselves in a bubble of people like them and choose to look away from what's wrong in society. Those people become complacent at best with no effort to actually speak out or change things. Hell, even within the text, Ricky SEES a problem others are looking away from (the slugs eating people), but only tries to fight it by making a TikTok about it and becomes complacent again, accepting that people are just going to be eaten.

So tl;dr: no, I don't think the white liberal kid literally would have been a companion. I think if you stuck him in the Ood episode, for example, he'd have shaken his head when he found out about their plight, maybe made a TikTok with sad music playing over footage of them, and then said "welp, nothing else can be done." I think it's FUNNY to imagine another companion that the Doctor and Ruby both are giggling like schoolgirls over.

Also I kind of thought he was ugly - no offense to the actor but the makeup they had him in combined with the lighting and closeups made him look way older than 27 so he gave off this uncanny "how do you do fellow kids?" look.

[unriding]

2/2

moevie 𓂃 evie ෆ moze

wee hours in the morn, coddled beneath layers of the storm-sound. the deluge outside, a soft singing hum, thunder creeping through the cracks lining the windowsill. the bedroom is lit dimly only by the warm light of muted fairy lights lining the wall, and a laptop screen. EVIE [sunshine kind, wildly enthused, a loose thread fraying off a sweater hem] sits cross-legged at the foot of the bed, a long-gone-cold mug of tea nestled in her hand. there are faint shadows beneath her eyes, growing ever so slowly by the day. they seep into her chest. 

her lover, MOZE [sun-shadowed, crow-brained, diamond-hearted], a light sleeper, especially so without evie in his arms, stirs awake at a particularly grating clap of thunder and the dull clicks from the laptop keyboard coming from the other side of the bed. 

moze keeps himself hidden for a moment, silently observing evie. the tired slope of her shoulders and the gentle upwards curl she’s trained to keep on her lips. darkly, solemnly, softly… over and over, night after night, it’s exactly this.

MOZE: [voice heady with sleep, and tender, as it always is when speaking to evie] evie. you’re still awake.

evie startles slightly at the unexpected voice, and turns to face her lover with a smile so quick and practiced that it nearly convinces him of its false genuinity. nearly.

EVIE: [hushed, brows pinched apologetically] sorry, did i wake you? there are still a few things for me to do, but i’ll come join you in bed soon!

MOZE: [tilting his head, studying her] it’s nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. you look tired.

moze takes note of how the smile she shares with him doesn’t reach her eyes as it usually does. with a sigh, he sits up from the bed, sheets rustling. the light from the laptop reveals the bout of concern etched into his features. it’s not so easily visible, coming from a man who has also trained himself to keep his countenance a certain way, but evie recognises it instantaneously. her heart patters and aches.

EVIE: [reassuring, giving him a thumbs up] it’s nothing, really! same old college grind, heh.

she watches, a bit dumbfounded as moze swings his legs over the side of the bed and walks around to her side, taking the mug from her hands and placing it atop the dresser on the other side of the room. 

EVIE: [curiously, quirking a brow] oh?

the two share a few blinks, before evie rises from the bed to retrieve her tea. moze is unyielding as he steps in front of her, blocking her path no matter which way she tries to step. she giggles at his behaviour, the sound reaching his heart and coaxing a weak smile unto his own lips.

EVIE: what are you doing? I want my tea, please.

MOZE: [quiet, but firm] what i’m doing is asking you to come to bed.

evie opens her mouth in a gasp, but her protest is swiftly silenced when moze slips the laptop off of her lap and places it out of reach.

MOZE: you’ve been running on empty for weeks.

EVIE: [playfully stern] moze—

MOZE: [gently, a soft command] evie, lie down with me. please.

there’s a look of dreadful love in moze’s eyes, his voice almost a plea. evie hesitates, the innate need to keep moving, keep smiling, keep doing— something, anything, for school, and for the people she holds close. she struggles against the pull of her lover’s words, but ultimately surrenders defeat when he takes her wrist in her hands, grip firm but reassuring. a shadow offering reprieve from the heat of the sun.

and when she wills her smile away into something more vulnerable, sincere… when she allows moze to see the neglected air of exhaustion, of softness, of longing, he can’t help but feel his heart spill open.

MOZE: [tossing the quilt over both his and evie’s bodies, offering her a pillow with the muscle of his arm] i see how hard you try. even when it’s breaking you.

uncharacteristically, she falls silent, unable to find the words to reassure him that she indeed really is fine. but moze sees it all. he feels it all. the silence is deafening. and so he holds her heart like a flower, lest it bloom and collapse, cradling it to his own as it opens up and scoops it out of the dark.

MOZE: [drawing closer, tip of his nose dusting hers in a gentle coax] you can let me take care of you.

EVIE: [weakly, on the verge of tears, a little broken] i’m sorry. i don’t want to be extra weight.

heartbreakingly selfless, and heartachingly concerned about the welfare of others. the perennial woes of a girl who offers up the moon but would never ask for in return. it grinds the gears in moze’s mind, that she gives so freely that it nearly bleeds her dry. he tucks his free arm around her, as if to shield her from not only the world, but her own mind.

MOZE: [resolute] don’t say that.

and he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly purses his lips when he hears a sniffle muffled into the junction of his neck. there will always be other times to remind her of her worth; to not marry it with her success at school, nor the things she can do for others. for now, bit by bit, day by day, he’ll be content being the little crow that picks up the shiny chipped pieces of her heart and fuses it back to its rightful state.

MOZE: [tenderly, voice honeyed, running a soothing palm along her head] rest, evie. close your eyes. even if it’s only for a short while. just…. let the world spin without you for a moment. let me be selfish and keep you to myself.

— happy (very late very belated... so sorry! TT) birthday to my eviepup 🩶 @unriding please think of this as my love letter to you... i know despite all the smiles and laughs you share with us, these months are hard for you... and with school coming up, i know how you tend to wear yourself thin trying to do everything!! so, when that time comes around, i hope you might be able to read this and seek some comfort in it 💌 because you bring all of us A Lot of it < 333 you are cherished by so many! please never forget this ꒰ ˆ ꒵ ˆ꒱ ‧₊˚ 

[miihho]

can you pleaseeee write type of guy for gi hun? bro is underrated in his own show 😔🙏

The Kind Of Guy

Seong Gi-hun

SFW

—Gi-hun is the kind of guy who falls in love with kindness and personality, drawn to the way someone makes him feel seen and understood. It's not about looks or grand gestures for him—it's the little things, the quiet moments that reveal a person’s true heart. He admires how you treat others with warmth and kindness, how your laughter can light up a room, and how your compassion extends even to those who may not deserve it.

He’s captivated by your authenticity, your ability to stay true to yourself in a world that often demands conformity. The way you listen intently when he speaks, offering gentle advice without judgment, leaves a lasting impression on him.

Gi-hun isn’t easily won over by surface-level charm; what matters most to him is how you make him feel—safe, valued, and loved for who he truly is. He would slowly become captivated by you, his love for you deepening as he watches you simply be yourself. There’s something about your genuine nature that pulls him in more with each passing day.

—If Gi-hun was tired from work, he’d be the kind of guy who just wanted to be wrapped up in your warmth. He’d quietly rest his head on your thighs or lap, finding comfort in your presence alone.

Sometimes, he’d drape his entire body over yours, seeking solace in the gentle rise and fall of your breathing. Nothing made him feel more at peace than when your fingers ran through his hair, your soft touch melting away his exhaustion. A tender kiss on his forehead would be the final thing to undo him, leaving him weak and completely at ease.

In those moments, with his worries fading and your arms around him, he’d fall into a deep, contented sleep, feeling safe and loved like never before.

—If life became too overwhelming and you came running to him, Gi-hun would immediately pull you into his arms, holding you tightly as if shielding you from the world. He’d gently pet your hair, his touch soothing and filled with love.

He’d press soft kisses to your temple and wipe away your tears, his fingers carefully brushing your hair out of your face. Looking deeply into your eyes, he’d whisper, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’ve got you.” while cupping your face with his hands. And with that, he’d kiss your forehead, grounding you with his warmth and reassurance, making you feel like everything would be alright as long as he was by your side.

—Gi-hun adores when you sit on his lap, the weight of you resting gently against him as if you were meant to be there. He looks up at you with a soft, almost reverent gaze, as if trying to memorize every detail of the moment—your eyes, the curve of your smile, the way your presence seems to calm his restless heart.

His hands find their way to your waist or thighs, a subtle gesture of possessiveness mixed with tenderness, as he pulls you in a little closer, savoring the closeness. He doesn’t need words in moments like these; just the warmth of your body against his and the quiet intimacy between you two is enough. He knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, holding the one person who makes everything feel right.

—If he had the means, he’d spoil you with everything you could ever dream of. No wish would be too small or too big; if it made you happy, he’d make sure you had it. Whether it’s a simple treat or an extravagant gift, nothing would stop him from seeing that smile on your face, because making you happy is his greatest joy.

—His age might be a little older, but not by too much—just enough for him to carry that sense of maturity and wisdom that comes with experience. He would treat you right in every way, with a gentleness that made you feel cherished. Whether it was peeling oranges for you, slicing apples with care, or making sure you felt like royalty, he'd always go the extra mile to make you feel special. He would treat you like a princess, and in turn, you'd feel like a queen in his presence.

—So imagine being in his arms, both of you just there—naked not in body but in the vulnerability of the moment. There’s no rush, no need for anything more, just the simple act of caressing each other, feeling the warmth of your skin against his while soft whispers will fill the space between you. He craves the connection that goes beyond desire, cherishing your raw presence, the way you make him feel whole just by being near him. The simplicity of it all, the quiet affection, would be enough to fill both your hearts.

—If you drift off to sleep on the couch, he would gently lift you in his arms, carrying you upstairs to your bed. With tender care, he'd lay you down and tuck you in snugly beneath a warm blanket, making sure you’re comfortable before quietly leaving the room.

—If you were feeling down, he’d do everything he could to lift your spirits. He’d grab a silly mask, crack a joke, or pull a funny face just to see you smile. When he asked what was wrong and you shared your worries, he’d pull you into a warm embrace, holding you close as he whispered nothing but reassuring words into your ears.

He's the kind of guy who justs wants is to be next to you—your hands locked together, your legs comfortably tangled. He wants your face nestled in his neck, the rhythm of your breathing the only sound in the quiet room.

He wants to feel you stir, mumbling, “I’m so tired,” so he can softly whisper, “Go back to sleep,” holding you closer as you drift off again.

He dreams of those peaceful early mornings, lying beside you in the stillness, maybe reading a book while you rest. Or maybe just running his fingers gently through your hair, watching over you as a soft smile tugs at his lips, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

—He would, will, and IS going to love you bare and raw—unfiltered and unapologetic, accepting every part of you. No pretenses, no facades, just the real, unpolished version of who you are. He would love you with the same vulnerability, never asking you to hide any part of yourself.

In his arms, you’d feel like you could be completely yourself, exposed and imperfect, but cherished all the same. His love would be unconditional, free from judgment, because in his eyes, you are perfect just as you are.

—If he saw you joining the game with him, absolute terror would wash over him. The moment his eyes locked with yours, knowing you'd willingly entered a nightmare he had already endured, his heart would race in panic. He’d grab your shoulders, eyes wide with fear, demanding, “Why are you here?!” His voice would crack, trying to make sense of it all, his only concern now being to get you out of this mess.

He’d scold you, his tone harsh with worry, “What were you thinking!? This isn’t just a game!” His words would come from a place of raw fear, a desperate attempt to push you away from the danger that loomed. His fear would intensify, each second passing a terrifying reminder of what this game could cost.

He would do anything—anything at all—to get you out of there. The thought of losing you, of seeing you hurt, would tear him apart. He couldn’t lose you; he just couldn’t. A part of him would feel like it was slipping away, that his very soul was in jeopardy. His heart would be racing, consumed by the fear of a future without you. No, no—he couldn’t lose you. He would be scared in ways he never knew he could be, completely helpless, yet still trying to protect you at all costs.

—If Gi Hun had a crush on you, he’d be a mess trying to hide it. He’d stutter a little over his words, his sentences barely making sense as he tried to keep his composure. When he was around you, he’d find it impossible to focus, his mind racing in a million directions. He’d try his best to play it cool, but his nervousness would be all too obvious. The way his cheeks would flush, the small awkward laughs, and the way he couldn’t meet your eyes for too long would give him away.

No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t handle being around you without his feelings spilling out. His every attempt to act casual would fail, and deep down, he’d be embarrassed, but he couldn’t help it. You had him completely flustered, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, he’d always end up wearing his heart on his sleeve.

—When faced with dangerous people, he would immediately step in front of you, positioning himself as a shield. His instincts would be to protect you at all costs, and he’d put himself between you and any threat, no hesitation in his movements. He would hide you behind his back, ensuring that you were out of harm’s way, his body acting as the barrier to keep you safe.

—When Gi Hun confesses to you, it would be a heartfelt moment that he’s carefully planned out, even if his nerves are getting the best of him. He’d send you a text or a letter asking you to meet him at a specific place, and when you arrived, you’d find him standing there, waiting for you. His eyes would light up as soon as he saw you, a spark of excitement and love shining through, though he’d be hiding something behind his back, his nervousness mixed with anticipation.

He’d take a deep breath before speaking, his voice filled with sincerity as he gave you a long, heartfelt explanation. He’d tell you why he likes you, why he fell in love with you—how your kindness, your smile, the way you light up his world, all made him realize just how much you meant to him. It would be a genuine, vulnerable confession, his emotions raw and unfiltered.

Finally, after pouring his heart out, he’d take a step closer to you, holding out the things you love—small tokens of thoughtfulness, gestures that show how much he’s paying attention to the little things about you. With a nervous yet hopeful look, he’d finally ask you out if you want to be his.

You’d be standing there, overwhelmed by his honesty and the sweetness of the moment, in awe and shock, but without a doubt, your heart would race as you say “Yes.”

—He’s the kind of guy who’ll wander into the kitchen just to be close to you. He’d wrap his arms around you from behind, pressing his face into the curve of your neck to breathe in your scent, his embrace warm and unyielding. He’d nuzzle you gently, turning you around to face him with that look in his eyes—hungry, not just for food, but for you.

Even as soap dripped from your hands, he wouldn’t care. He’d guide your hands to his hair, leaning into your touch, and silently begging for your kiss. In his world, no moment was too mundane for intimacy; even standing in the kitchen, you were the center of his hunger, his affection, his everything.

NSFW

—Steamy shower sex is one of Jun Ho's absolute favorites, and he revels in every moment of it with you. Water drips down your skin, warm and relentless, as your bodies collide with a fervor that borders on desperate. The heat between you burns hotter than the steam surrounding you, and Gi Hun pulls you closer, his chest pressed firmly against yours.

Your back meets the cold tiles with a sharp gasp, the chill a perfect contrast to the fire coursing through your veins. Your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, locking him in place as if the space between you could ever be enough. Your arms drape over his shoulders, hands buried in his damp hair, tugging gently, urging him closer still.

His hands are everywhere, tracing your curves, memorizing your body like a sacred scripture he’s afraid to forget. His lips would come crashing into yours, urgent and consuming, tasting every part of you he can claim.

—He loves the feeling of your bare skin against his, the intimacy of having you completely, utterly his. Every curve, every line of your body only deepens his admiration, leaving him in awe of the woman he’s so lucky to call his. As he moves with you, his hands trace your face with reverence, his eyes locked on yours, drinking in every expression, every breath, every sound, and every moan you make.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice heavy with a mix of passion and disbelief, “you’re so beautiful baby, my beautiful wife.” His gaze lingered on you with an intensity that spoke of his love, each moment deepening as he continued to hit your sweet spot. Then, drawing closer, he leaned in to taste you once more, savoring every sensation.

—In bed, Gi hun would never resort to calling you derogatory names like 'slut' or 'whore.' That’s just not the kind of man he is, and you are not that type of woman. Instead, he showers you with sweet pet names—'sweetheart,' 'princess,' 'baby' 'angel'— and praises you as he makes love to you.

—Gi-hun wouldn't even realize he had a kink until you whispered how good he was at making you feel pleasure. Each word dripped with desire, and the happiness washing over him was palpable—every “good boy” igniting something deep within.

“Such a good boy for me, baby haa-fuck, making me feel so good,” you moaned, arching your back. Your nails clawed at his back, the sensation driving him wild, making him groan deeply.

His ego swelled with each sound you made, compelling him to thrust harder, faster, hungry for your praise. “I want to hear you say it again,” he said, his voice laced with desperation as he struggled to maintain control. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“Hngg—you’re doing so well for me baby, haah—such a good boy, my good boy.” Your encouragement spurred him on, each thrust becoming more erratic. He focused on the visceral connection at the junction of your bodies, the creamy ring around him and the warm, slick remnants pooling onto the sheets—the evidence of your shared ecstasy driving him towards the edge once more.

“I can’t... Fuck I can’t hold back,” he stammered, the need to please you overwhelming his senses. “You’re so tight baby—you feel so good.. so fucking perfect for me.”

Profanities spilled from his lips as he fell into a primal rhythm, slamming into you from behind. The room filled with the symphony of loud squelches and the creaking of the bed under the force of his fervent thrusts.

“i love you s'much keep fucking me like that baby,” you urged, your breath ragged. His sensitivity heightened with every flutter of your walls around him, his vision blurring as black spots danced in and out of focus. A strangled moan caught in his throat as he found his release, filling you completely with his cum, the warmth spilling inside like melted marshmallows, soft and indulgent.

"haa..fuck—you feel so good baby, ’so good.” he breathed out as he rode out his climax. His arms trembling, feeling you milk every last drop from him, as he collapsed onto you, a huff escaping his lips, “Did I do good baby?”

"Mhm, You did such a good job love." a wide smile formed on his lips.

—If you take him into your mouth, he can’t help but moan loudly, lost in the intoxicating warmth of your lips and tongue. Each flick and swirl drives him wild, and he sputters curses in pure pleasure, praising how good you make him feel and how perfectly your mouth envelops him

—He’s the type of guy who fears hurting you at first, but once you tell him it’s okay, he starts off slow and gentle, relishing the feel of your dripping wet pussy around him. But as he gets lost in the thrill, his aggression takes over, and he’s pounding into you with a rougher, relentless pace, turning you into a moaning, writhing mess beneath him.

[coolnonsenseworld]

I haven't been feeling very good around social media.

That arm injury turned my life upside down and the pain dictated everything I did - how i ate, how I slept, how I held my phone, how I made money, and it drove me out of social life, because I had nothing wonderful to share except my own pain and the dread of the future.

I didn't have a heart to come up with something that will grip someone else's attention, that will tell a story, that will form the connection. I was too weary. But whatever happens - art will forever be my safe place and even if I didn't have that heart to share it with the masses, I worked hard to bring my arm back to functionality and worked harder to finish the new klance calendar.

And that's all I wanted to say this weekend. I will be publishing pre-orders very next week and I'm excited to share this with you and all 12 pieces with it and this post is just something I wanted to leave here, because oh man. I've been feeling like without art I meant nothing.

Thanks for waiting for me and supporting me during it 😔💕💕💕❤️💙

[beloveds-embrace]

I’m such a crybaby because I’d be sobbing my eyes out if the angst dukedom!ah shit happened to me

Kyle hearing the duchess crying in her room so he lingers near the door but doesn’t know how to even approach her :(((((

Same honestly 😔

Dukedom au masterlist

Kyle hearing you cry in your room, aware that you must be so… alone. Alone and cold because he knows none of the maids had bothered to prepare your room for winter and you couldn’t even ask any of them to even tell you where the thicker linens and softer pillows are.

His guilt festers like an open wound, each muffled sob from behind your door a twist of the knife. He’s supposed to be the head butler, the one who ensures every guest’s comfort- yours included regardless of his own feelings- but he’s failed you. The other servants followed his lead, and his silent disdain for you has been their permission to mistreat you. He knows better now, but knowing doesn’t ease the shame that burns his throat when he finally orders the maids to prepare your room properly. He doesn’t tell them why. He can’t admit he’s started to care.

Simon just silently watching you struggle to pull a book out of the library shelves because your dress was not made for climbing ladders, and the servants working there ignored you and pretended they had something else to do when you asked for their help. Something in him quietly aches when he sees your shoulders slump, giving up on getting that book.

He watches you more often than he’d like to admit, truthfully. It’s not just the way your frustration lingers when no one helps you, or the resigned sigh you give when you’re ignored. It’s the quiet dignity with which you endure it all. He sees it in the way you straighten your back even as you, at last, leave the library empty-handed, and something in him twists painfully. He hates how much he’s beginning to admire your strength, And yet, he still says nothing. For now, all he can do is quietly place the book you wanted on your desk later that night, hoping you’ll understand what he can’t yet say.

Johnny just staring at the many mugs of tea and hot drinks he’d made, meant to soothe after such a cold day of hardworking for everyone. A treat from him, a little gift. He’s even made a cup for you and yet… he says nothing when a maid he knows already had hers takes it. Yet the regret he feels when he catches you later that night warming some water on the stove, thinner than is healthy, is something fierce and sharp. He still says nothing, words at the tip of his tongue yet unable to come out.

Still, Johnny can’t stop thinking about the cup of tea. It wasn’t just a drink- it was the smallest gesture of warmth he could have saved and offered you, and he’d let it slip through his fingers. He doesn’t even know why he made it for you in the first place, why he bothered when resentment was easier. But seeing you at the stove, cheeks hollow and shoulders hunched, a spark of defiance in the way you warmed your own water despite everything- it broke something in him. Later, he’ll leave a bowl of warm stew and a fresh loaf of bread outside your door, too ashamed to knock but desperate to ease the hunger he knows must gnaw at you.

John can’t even look at you. If he does, he will be reminded of the one night he allowed himself to see you. Not just as the intruder he once thought you were, but as a woman trying to survive in a world that seemed determined to keep you on your knees. He remembers the soft tremble in your voice when you thanked him for a kindness so small it was almost cruel- handing you a coat left in the drawing room after everyone had gone. You wore it like armor, though it was far too big, and he’d spent the rest of the night cursing himself for the way your gratitude had made his chest ache.

Now, he avoids your gaze because he doesn’t know what he’ll see. Pain? Loneliness? Or worse, the hope that hasn’t yet been extinguished, despite everything. He knows that hope will unravel him if he lets it.

[producedbysohyun]

Protective

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the squid games characters would be protective over you

Includes: Thanos, In-ho, Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Hyun-ju (squid game au)

Warnings: mentions of death, might be a little repetitive because I just feel like they would act similar.

Masterlist

a/n: Mb this is pretty short but I haven’t posted in awhile so I wanted to post something (I might add to this as time goes on) !! Please enjoy !!

Thanos:

Let’s just say that if anyone lays a finger on you, they are dead 🤗

You literally don’t have to worry about dying when you are with him

Always has his arm around your shoulder or waist so everyone knows to not try anything with you

During the night he holds onto you so tightly you feel like you could suffocate

He just really doesn’t want anything to happen to you 😔

If you really don’t want to play the games he will cave and vote X

You mean way more to him than money

No matter how bad his debt is

*cough* 1 billion *cough*

In-ho:

Idk how you would get in the game in the first place cause he definitely wouldn’t let you but

Ya you are not dying

Has full control of the game and will do everything he can to make sure you don’t die

Even if it means playing unfairly

Tells the guards to not kill you even if you didn’t pass the game

Definitely tells the guards to give you extra food so you have energy 😭

You’re basically just gonna be playing the games on easy mode

Gi-hun:

Bro has nothing to lose besides you so he’s gonna do everything he possible can to keep you alive

Doesn’t let you go anywhere alone

Beats himself up about not trying harder to end the games because if he did then neither of you would be in this situation right now

Never sleeps because he knows that fights happen at night and he wants to make sure you’re safe

Would immediately put himself in danger if it meant you would be ok

Makes sure you pass the games before even worrying about himself

Dae-ho:

Does not take his eyes or hands off of you

Is not afraid to defend you either verbally or physically

Even tho he is freaked out about the games as well he doesn’t let it get to him and tells himself he has to be brave for you

Always puts your safety above his

Ends up getting no sleep at night because he’s so scared something is gonna happen to you

Always insists on giving you his food even tho he is hungry

In his mind, you matter more.

Myung-gi:

Wanted to keep playing the games but when he figured out you were there he voted for X as he wanted anything but for you to be dead or hurt

Will literally kill anyone who bad mouths you (that one scene when he killed Thanos because he said something about Jun-hee 🤭 rip Thanos 😞)

Doesn’t let you leave his sight for a second

During the special game where the lights went out and everyone was killing each other he just kept you behind him the entire time

Boy was ready to risk his life for you 😭

If you get separated during a game he will probably scold you out of worry before realizing that he’s literally yelling at you for something you couldn’t control

You better believe he won’t let you get separated from him again

Hyun-ju:

Girl would do absolutely anything to keep you alive

Holds your hand 24/7

You guys are NOT getting separated

Doesn’t care about herself

As long as you’re alive she’s ok

Would absolutely crash out if anything happened to you

If you wanted to join the revolt with them she would tell you no instantly

Because if you ended up dying and it was her fault she would never forgive herself

Can’t sleep because she wants to watch over you pt.2 😢

a/n: I hope you guys liked this!! I know I say that requests are closed rn but I will take requests for hcs !! Not for a singular character but if it’s for multiple characters I will gladly write it !!

[decojellyfish]

So we saw Guard dog! ghost and kitten! reader

Rescued fighting dogs! Ghost and Soap with cat! reader

how about we get some of Price adopting a puppy! reader and reader having to learn the ropes from Older dogs! Ghost, Soap, and Gaz(maybe??)?

or just Price rescuing another former fighting dog! reader and them being all defensive against former fighting dogs! Ghost, Soap and Gaz(maybe??), maybe even fighting against them when they(soap) try to get too close for reader’s comfort

Thank you so much for being my second request!! I decided to go with the second prompt you offered me, and I had fun writing it! I just don't have fun making you guys cry because, fair warning, this one is gonna be angstyyy... 😔 But I hope you guys enjoy!

------

Bite

Hybrid AU! TF141 Retired Fight Dog! Gaz, Ghost, and Soap x Retired Fight Dog! GN! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as ‘you’

SFW ~ Angst

Warnings: Brief/occasional swearing, mentions of abuse, depression, extreme violence, trauma

───♡───────────── Beginning Your body ached. You didn’t know if it was because you were starving, or if it was your muscles and joints crying out for help from your most recent fight. It was a couple of hours ago, and it was rough. Your previous owner had disowned you when he found a new pup to use and abuse for profit. Part of you was happy, the years of abuse and ruthless training were over. The other part of you was absolutely terrified. You had no more food, no treats, no worn-out bed for you to sleep on, and no roof over your head.

You’d been homeless for nearly a year. You gave up on keeping exact track months ago. Your slightly sunken stomach never ceases its eternal growl, constantly yearning for food. Dumpster diving has become a part of your lifestyle. You had managed to find some food, albeit moldy and/or coated in garbage juices, but it was still food. ‘Food is fight fuel’ was constantly echoing through your head, while you fought off the sickness going through your head as realization set in that you were literally eating garbage. Sometimes, you even wondered if food was even worth it. You weren’t fighting as much as you used to. Sometimes you were suddenly assaulted by other stray fighter dogs as well, forcing you to live in constant paranoia, anxiety, and a never-ending feeling like you had to fight.

There were times that you even lashed out at strangers because of this constant fear. Domesticated dogs would find themselves abruptly thrown into a fight when you were around. They would leave with scratches, bites, bruises, and even chunks of flesh missing due to your fierce bite. In the underground fighting scene, you were most known for how gnarly the wounds from your bites would be.

This would result in animal control being called on you. But you’d evaded them countless times, which meant that you were far from where you originally came from. You would bounce from alley to alley, town to city. You were far from home if you could even call where you came from ‘a home’.

Though you were far from old enemies, you still made new ones. You were so used to lashing out that you were still getting into fights, but now you were getting into fights with fight dogs you didn’t even know.

Some days, you were tired. So tired, you just wanted to lay in your current alleyway and just rot. Let the bugs eat away at you, sometimes you even want to turn yourself into the pound. At least there you would have food in your belly and a semi-warm place to sleep. On other days, you were mad. So mad, you just wanted to paint the town red with any kind of blood, even your own.

Today was a tired day. You were lying against a wall, it was raining. Rain would be the closest you had to being bathed. Your rotted clothes were soaked and falling apart, your hair sticking to your face and skin as you stared at the opposing wall. Your eyes had nothing behind them, you were lost in your little world. Your happy place.

You imagined yourself in a cabin, or a cottage, just somewhere secluded and cozy. You had a loving partner, and pups of your own to take care of. A garden in the backyard, full of fruit, vegetables, and herbs. A flower garden in the front yard, full of daffodils, tulips, rose bushes, and trumpet lilies. You wore soft clothes like they were made of clouds. In your happy place, you were warm. In your happy place, you were safe.

Unfortunately, you were ripped out of your happy place by a smell. A familiar smell. Multiple familiar smells. Your heart had already started to beat rapidly, and the sense of adrenaline you had when in the fighting ring was coming back, slapping you in the face. You shifted your position from laying back against a wall to standing up and ready to fight, your teeth already beginning to show and a low growl slowly leaving your throat.

Familiar smells were never good, it meant that someone who had been made an enemy was close. Another fight was about to happen. You could hear men chatting with each other, though it was muffled by the ringing in your ear as your brain was now filled with nothing but adrenaline, panic, and one word. Fight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price was going on his weekly walk with his boys, all rescues. His home had become somewhat of a mini rehabilitation center. His pups, although fully grown dogs, were his pride and joy to be around. Gaz was his first rescue about seven years ago, Soap was rescued about two years after Gaz, and Ghost had been rescued three years before today. Price, himself, was a retired military veteran.

He enjoyed going on walks with his pups, he found it to be a nice bonding experience. Although today was rainy, it didn’t stop the group from following tradition. Gaz loved the rain, the sound and the feeling of raindrops hitting windows, umbrellas, or even himself was beyond calming for him. Soap didn’t particularly like rain, it mostly made him think of those unbelievably sad scenes in movies that involved rain, like an intense breakup. Ghost was neutral about it.

But Ghost found himself focused on something else, a smell. He glanced over at Soap, who could also smell this sudden scent. “Stop.” Ghost spoke firmly, grabbing Price’s shoulders and looking at the rest of the group. “Stay here, I smell something.” “Ghost, I don’t want you getting hurt-“ Price protested, only to be interrupted by Soap. “Stay, somethin’s here tha’ could rip out your throat.”

Gaz was worried as well, even though the scent wasn’t as familiar to him as it was to Ghost and Soap. He could smell a large amount of adrenaline and even panic or fear mixed in.

Ghost slowly walked up to the scent source and braced himself, slowly watching as a familiar face came into view. The two of you had been through plenty of fights together, each parting putting up a massive fight. You were snarling at him when he approached you, your body unconsciously moving closer to the wall, further away from him as he grew closer. Your hollow, starved appearance had him taken aback. You looked terrible. You were coated in scabs, bruises, and open wounds that had miraculously not gotten infected.

Your heart was beating so fast, that both you and Ghost could hear it. He had his hands up, his palms open as he showed he wasn’t looking for a fight. That didn’t stop you though. All you could see was all those fights, years ago. Ghost snarling back at you before he would nearly tear a chunk out of you while you almost ripped both of his ears off. You lunged at him with a loud bark, tackling him as you began to scratch and bite at him.

The group was startled, and terrified. They would all run to Ghost as they tried to get this rabid dog off of him. Of course, four men against you was an unfair fight and you were swiftly removed from the fight.

Soap held you against the ground, crouching over you as he pinned both of your arms behind your back as you continued to snarl and attempt to bite. You panted and stared at them with wide eyes, mostly focusing on Ghost and Soap since they were enemies from the past.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, aren’t you..?” You spoke shakily, to either of the boys. Soap could feel how strong and deep your breaths were as you hyperventilated.

All the men shared a glance of worry, Soap spoke up, “We’re not those dogs anymore.” Ghost would nod in shared agreement. “You don’t look so good, since the last time I saw you.” He looked down at you, noting how your stomach churned from hunger, how tired your eyes were, and your slightly raspy breath. Even your recent wounds worried him, some nearly looking like early stages of infection.

You grunted as you struggled under him, “Yeah, well, ‘m happy to see you guys living the high life.” You grumbled, the other dogs’ ears twitching as they heard a slight crack in your voice. You couldn’t ignore it, you were jealous. They didn’t look as tired as they did at your last fight, not on edge all the time, they looked well fed, and they smelled good too. And worst of all, what made you want to lash out at all of them, even their owner, was the fact that they looked happy with this new life. The life that you desired that always seemed to be out of reach.

All the men looked back at Price, Gaz included, with one question in their eyes. ‘Can we keep them?’

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taking you back to their home was a fight in it of itself. You couldn’t help but be scared. Maybe they were all tricking you, maybe they were gonna lock you up in their house and sell you off to another owner in the underground fighting scene. Maybe they really were going to kill you. You only felt slightly safe with Gaz, but that’s because he didn’t look as scarred a fighter as Ghost and Soap, and his eyes held a safer gaze than the other two. He would hold your hand on the way home, firmly but protectively. However, he only did this after you attempted to run away from the group about 4 times.

Arriving at the Price household, there was an overwhelming amount of smells. Everything smelled like all the boys, but individually and in one unit all at the same time. You would stay close to the front door at the entrance, scared to step one foot further into the house. You still didn’t know if it was safe or not. Price respected this, though. He had Gaz let go of your hand so you could settle into the house at your own pace. The look of fear in your eyes was one that he was familiar with, he’d seen it in all his other boys when he first brought them home.

He had the boys all continue on with their night, only giving you directions to the bathroom in case you needed it at some point.

As time went on, your legs would grow tired of just standing. You remained seated, close to the door as you watched the household live out their lives. Price would only stop by you once for the night, and it was to give you a late-night snack and to wish you a good night. He had set down a plate with pieces of watermelon and a glass of water. He left after that, supposedly going to bed. The boys would stay up a bit later, they would watch you in secret. But you were quickly able to tell they were spying on you, however, you let them continue.

You saw it as a way to test if they were trustworthy. Your ears slightly twitch as you listen to their whispers.

“...how do you know them…?” Gaz would whisper, curiosity lacing his voice. “...Ghost and I have had a few tussles with ‘em years ago…” “...Fierce dog… don’t underestimate them…” Ghost grumbled in reply, Soap nodding in agreement. “...Nearly took mah whole face off…” Soap chuckled. “...They almost got my ears…” Ghost added.

You would faintly smile at the warning of underestimating you as a fighter dog. But then you were reminded that you were a fighter dog. And a successful one. Any moral being would never want to be a successful fighter dog. That meant you were scary and either could have killed or even mutilated another dog. Memories of all your fights would flash across your mind, like a blinding camera shot. Your successful ones, the ones where you would lose and your owner showed you what bad dogs get for losing. The bits of compassion you would feel for your opponent as they bleed out, or yowled in pain as their bones broke, pellets of skin torn off, or their bleeding gums from when you knocked nearly all their teeth out.

You wanted to hug them, apologize to them, tell them that you wished you could fix them. Only to have those moments of kindness wiped from your mind as the shrieks and cheers of your owner and the people who bet money on you were released into the air.

Coming back to reality, you were perplexed when you didn’t hear the whispers anymore. Taking a chance, you glanced up at the boys. Only to see that they were now staring at you, curious and worried. You didn’t know why they were staring until you heard a soft pit-pat against the floor beneath you.

Glancing down, you saw little droplets. Your hand instinctively raised to your face, feeling little beads of tears and the streaks they left behind on your face. You would quickly smear your tears away and shoot the dogs a mean growl before reluctantly stuffing a piece of watermelon into your mouth. You just wanted something else to focus on aside from the stares you were getting right now.

An hour later, the men had all gone to sleep and you had eaten all the food Price had given you and drank all the water he offered. You stayed awake throughout the whole night, however. You still didn’t trust anyone, believing the house was a trap.

Morning arrived, your eyes tired but still open as you didn’t want to lose your guard. Price was the first one up, yawning and scratching at his chest as he walked into the room. He would glance down at you, smiling when he saw you’d eaten all your food.

“Food was good, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll get you some more soon.” He chuckled, taking your empty dishes away and heading into the kitchen.

You felt awkward now, just sitting there as Price had begun to cook breakfast. You would quietly stand up and slink into the kitchen, sitting on the cold tile as you would watch him from a random corner of the room. It had been about ten minutes before Price would look over his shoulder to check on you, only seeing that you weren’t in your previous spot. He would then glance down at you in your new spot, chuckling to himself.

“Got bored of the old spot?” He asked before going back to cooking. He didn’t expect you to be speaking right out the gate, all the other boys were like that too when he first took them in. After a few minutes, Gaz would walk in, rubbing at his eye. A big smile formed on his face as he smelled the currently cooking food. “Smells good in here, Price.” He would then finally look at you, mildly surprised you had moved but he would regain his smile.

Waving at you, he would approach you but keep his distance. “Did you sleep well last night…?” You silently stared at him, your restlessness very obvious, especially in your eyes. “Did you sleep- at all last night…?” He looked concerned, his brows only furrowing more when you shook your head no. “...Too scared?” You stayed quiet. “That’s okay, Ghost and I were like that too.” He smiled at you. You couldn’t deny it, he was a comforting ball of sunshine to you.

“I could set up a bed on the couch for you, I could even keep the telly on for you if you like falling asleep to that sort of thing.” You remained quiet as he talked to you, causing him to let out a slightly amused but comforting huff. “That’s okay, you can think about it during breakfast.”

Breakfast included food that was the most delicious food you had devoured in years. French toast, fried eggs, bacon. You would quietly inhale the first actual meal you’d had in a long time, everyone else watching you at the kitchen table, some trying not to laugh at your eagerness.

You awkwardly stared at everyone else, wiping away some yolk on your mouth with your hand. Price chuckled, “That reminds me, we ought to give you a bath today and get you some new clothes.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You awkwardly sat in the tub as Gaz would scrub a sudsy sponge along your back. Price was washing some clothes, making sure the scent was cleaned out so you had no trouble with wearing them.

“Don’t worry, I was like this when Price first took me in.” He laughed a little. “Quiet, scared, and I didn’t know if this place was my permanent home. But it is my home, and it’s gonna be your home too.” He smiled at you, now rubbing shampoo into your hair. “...what’s it like?” You looked up at him. “Y’know, living here? What’s it like?”

Gaz thought for a bit, also trying to make sure none of the shampoo got in your eyes. “Well, it’s nice. Good food, good clothes, good comfort. Price will sometimes pick up our favorite snacks for us, he’ll do that for you too, you just need to ask him or write it on the grocery list. We go on weekly walks around the block, sometimes we go to the park which is really fun. Especially with Soap, he really likes to play games at the park.”

That surprised you, you never took Soap to be a ‘fun games at the park’ kind of dog. Well, that could also be because you never got to see him or Ghost as a domesticated dog, your only memories of them being in the fighting rink. Maybe they have changed. Maybe you should give them a chance to show you they’ve changed.

Maybe they were doing that all along since they found you, only holding you down instead of attacking you in response to being attacked by an old foe.

The bath was eventually drained and you were dried off with a towel, Price coming in with a pair of folded up clothes, a t-shirt and some sweatpants. You were left alone in the bathroom to get dressed, also to let you just have time to yourself.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom in your new attire. You couldn’t lie, the clothes were beyond comfy and were nice and warm. Probably fresh out of the dryer. The rest of the boys were on the couch, watching a show on the TV. You would stare at them before slowly beginning to move your legs towards the couch as well.

They would notice your approaching, but wouldn’t bring any extra attention to it. They all remember their first time trying to get comfortable in the new home. It honestly warmed their hearts watching you hesitate on where to sit before eventually picking a spot and huddling into the soft pillows.

Price was already dressed for the day and was writing down the current shopping list before slipping his shoes on. “Oy, Gaz, you’re coming with me for groceries today.” He called out to the couch, Gaz promptly getting up and putting his own shoes on. He waved to you and the other two before stepping out the front door, Price giving a wave as well. “We’ll be back in 30.”

You sat there in silence, now stuck with your past enemies. There was tension, no doubt. At least, that’s what you felt. You were the one who was constantly looking over at the boys, a nervous sweat forming on your forehead. The two were just sitting there, watching the commercials play and pass by.

Now that the only pacifists in the house were gone, they were going to pounce at any second. You were sure of it. At any given moment, they were gonna do it. So you sat there, in a state of constant fear and bracing yourself for a fight you didn’t even know would happen.

Ghost noticed your condition, Soap a few seconds later would see it too. “... you okay, pup?” Soap would ask, seeing the little bits of sweat on your skin. “You’re scared.” Ghost stated, looking deep into your defensive form. “You don’t need to be, you’re safe now. We all are. We aren’t the same dogs you fought those years ago.”

They continued to watch you, watching as you stayed quiet and just stared at them expectantly. “We know you’re also no’ the same dog from those fights. Ye dinnae have a choice, only doin’ tha’ for your own survival. Like us.” Soap’s eyes were full of empathy and concern.

“No need to be scared. It’s safe here.” He smiled at you, slowly reaching out to you to rub your shoulder.

You only saw the worst in people, you would see a possible future where he was reaching out to strangle you instead of comforting you. You thought you could see his teeth start to bare, maybe he was snarling at you.

You felt like you were back in the fighting ring. You could feel the adrenaline begin pulsing and coursing through your veins.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You didn’t know how you did it, it went by so fast. The last thing you saw was Soap’s teething smile and his hand. Now you were pressed up against a wall, hyperventilating at the sight of what you just did.

First, you  grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground before you began to bite and tear at his flesh and clothes. You woke up when Ghost pinned you to the ground, keeping your wrists together so you couldn’t hurt anyone or yourself. You scrambled away from him and coward into a corner.

You thought you were doing good, only a day into this house and you were doing so good. You didn’t feel like a good pup, not anymore. You weren’t deserving of this house, these new clothes. the food that resided in your stomach. You were a bad dog. There was no way you could look any of the boys in the eye now. Not after what you did.

Lost in a tsunami of your thoughts, you couldn’t hear Ghost trying to reassure you, that it was normal for an outburst like this to happen. He, himself, did it to Price. He brought Soap to the bathroom, taking out the first aid kit along with a few extra bandages. Living in a house with a bunch of retired fighter dogs, the first aid kits would be a bit more extreme than a regular, everyday one.

When he returned to check on you, to tell you that Soap was going to be okay, he didn’t see you in your corner. Not even the spot you were in on your first day here. But he saw that right next to the spot, the door was left open.

They lost you. ───♡───────────── End

If you have any requests, or asks, feel free to submit them!

[dollfacefantasy]

NOT A TOY! ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you and rick play around with the piece holstered to his belt

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, gun play (humping it), praise/degradation

wc: 1.4k

a/n: um sorry gang i wanted this to be longer but my brain wasn't working when i wrote it and it lowkey still is not 😔 based on this ask tho which i loved. i hope you guys like it. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated.

kinktober slot: day 22 - gun play

"You like this?" he asks, feigned disgust dripping from each syllable, "Dirty fuckin' girl."

"It feels good," you whimper in defense of yourself.

He chuckles at that, the sound coming out raspy and low. It's accompanied by the smirk on his face. The nearby light of the lantern makes his eyes look as though they're flickering with amusement at the position you're in.

The two of you were on watch for the night shift. While the sun set behind the tree line, you each climbed up into the tower that sat along the wall. Both of you started off focused on the task at hand. You kept your eyes forward, scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble, walker or human.

But as had been the norm for your time in Alexandria so far, nothing happened. No staggering figures emerged from the woods, nor did any cars creep down the road. You sat in the two chairs perched up there and talked back and forth about different things. You vented about different people in the group, shared stories about your lives in the old world, just normal stuff.

As the hours stretched on, you grew tired and migrated into Rick's lap. He let you settle in against his chest, expecting you to rest there for the remaining time. But like it normally went for the two of you, being so close meant you couldn't keep your hands off each other.

It started with simple making out. Your lips moved with one anothers in slow, open-mouthed kisses. His hands swept over your figure, stopping every so often to grope at your thighs or hips. He spun you around on his lap after a while to get you situated in a position to ride him.

In doing so, he went to move his gun out of its holster. The cool wooden finish of the grip brushed over your thigh, and the sensation sent a visible shudder through your body. 

His brows had raised with curiosity. Testing the idea, he dragged the weapon up your leg, and you shivered again.

"Feel somethin' good, sweetheart?" he asked.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, timidity gleaming over the small spheres. You responded with a little nod, and that was how you ended up here. The gun lodged between your thighs, the smooth grip pressed right up against your damp panties. 

You rut on the weapon like a puppy in heat - back and forth, back and forth. You're not sure if it's the thrill of using something so inherently dangerous as an object of pleasure or just something about the even curve of it that has you even more whiny than usual.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, dragging the fabric of his shirt up between them. His free hand not keeping the gun secure holds your chin. You want to drop your head back so bad. Your eyes are already so droopy with lust. You want to just melt and let loose, but he keeps you locked in this moment with him.

"Look at you. So desperate. You'll rub up on anything if it gets you off, huh?" he whispers.

Your head bobbles in his grasp, nodding yes.

"Mhm. As long as it feels good you don't care," he tuts. He boosts one of his legs to knock you closer. You topple forward further into his chest and stay there, accepting the warm expanse as refuge from the stimulation down below.

"Not my fault," you whimper, "Just feels so good."

"I bet it does," he chuckles.

Carefully, he angles the firearm upwards a bit more, letting your clit bump on the end of the grip. A sharp whine shoots from your lips, so he knows it was the right move.

You don't worry about anything right now. In this moment, it's just you and him. There's nothing to think about but humping the object below you like your life depends on it. You don't even worry about your own speed or force or anything. If there's anyone in this world you'd trust to do this with, it's Rick.

Rick who's intensely familiar with guns from his years on the force before this. Rick who's piece stays attached to his hip at all times. Rick who looks at you like you're the most precious being on earth, but who also can't get enough of reminding you what a little slut you can be. He's the only one who gets you to this level of depravity.

"Harder, baby. I know you can do better than this," he teases near your ear. You feel his breath tickle your skin, the sensation sending chills all across your heated flesh.

You try to follow what he says and press yourself down with more force. The smooth handle slots between your folds. You whine as you feel the increase in pressure, so close against you the contact almost feels direct.

His hands around back knead your ass. He gives it a small smack, beckoning you to keep up the pace.

"Want you to make yourself cum all over it. Get it all messy for me," he breathes, "I know those cute little panties are already soaked."

Your eyes flit down as if you didn't know that. His gaze follows in suit, a small laugh coming out of him. The more you rut on top of him, the darker the wet patch on the front of the delicate garment becomes. The sticky fabric adds to the friction though, making your release approach faster.

"F-fuck," you whimper. Your body tightens up at the impending sensation. The edge is right there. You don't think you could stop now if you wanted to.

"That's right, sweetheart. Making me proud. You're actin' like the perfect whore for me. Keep it up," he mumbles, each word only spurring you on.

You keep bucking your hips. Your grasp on him tightens. Your chest puffs in smaller intervals as you feel yourself racing towards the finish line. When you finally crest the peak, your back arches. You let out a strangled cry. Your body continues to rock brokenly on top of the object.

He grabs your chin again and pulls your face from where it'd been smooshed against his chest. His fingers direct you upward, forcing you to look at him.

"Look in my eyes while you cum, darlin'. Look at who's making you feel this good," he says.

Your cheeks fill with heat at the intensity of his gaze. Despite your instinct to look away, you keep your pupils locked on his blue irises, taking in all of the desire swirling there. Everything hits you harder. You tremble even more as the thing between your legs continues bringing you pleasure.

He chuckles and  drops his hand from your face. Once you're beginning the downward slope, he rubs your back, soothing you through it.

"Good girl. Let it all out. I've got you," he murmurs.

He keeps a firm hold on you, ensuring you don't fall off his lap. You continue on shuddering and riding out the rest of the high, but soon enough your body begins to settle. It feels like you're melting down into his chest. Every part of you loosens. You let out a deep sigh. And your eyes flutter.

His hand slithers down between the two of you to carefully extract his gun from the junction of your legs. He slides it out, briefly admiring the small sheen coating it. You scoot closer to be further in his arms as you hear him set the weapon on the table beside you.

He holds you there for a moment, letting you calm down. It's dark out now. Everything's quiet except for the sound of your breathing. His fingers massage the nape of your neck while he looks out at the pitch black expanse outside the walls.

Even though his attention resides elsewhere for the moment, when you shift around, you feel his bulge nudging the plush underside of your thighs. Reaching down, your fingers toy with the button on his jeans.

That same smug expression from earlier returns to his face as his eyes find yours again.

"You want more already?" he teases.

"That was just the warm up. I want the real thing," you say with a tiny smile.

"The real thing, huh? Greedy girl," he tuts playfully. But he adjusts his position a little in a way that you know you're gonna get what you want. "Let's see if you can handle the real thing without waking everybody up."

[odoraful]

𝑨 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑫𝑰𝑬

⟡ content: xiao x gn!reader; sfw; fluff; established relationship; xiao has certain powers that i will not disclose since it will spoil the fic, but it will be very obvious when you read it !; 1.5k words

⟡ a/n: couldn't for the life of me come up with a one sentence summary for this so unfortunately there is just the title to go off of 😔 also chibi xiao for the banner because it matches the vibe of the story hehe i hope you enjoy mwah !

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“If anything happens-”

“Just speak your name and you’ll be there.”

You finished off Xiao’s sentence with a soft smile.

Xiao’s protectiveness was second nature to him. Though he knew you were capable of fending for yourself, it never felt right for him to let you go on long travels without reiterating his promise to you. Especially now when you were heading to another nation where its threats were unfamiliar to him.

“But I won’t need to because nothing will happen to me,” you continued, flicking the clasps of your travel bag closed. “That is, unless the alchemical materials in the laboratory become sentient and decide to attack.”

Xiao gave a pout. “My concern is with the monsters of Dragonspine, not inanimate objects.”

His unwavering sincerity meant he seldom reciprocated your jokes, particularly when they revolved around your own safety. He had always thought that this would make him appear too stiff. Little did he know that it endeared him to you even more.

You walked over to Xiao, taking both his hands in yours. Eyes meeting his serious, amber gaze, you gently kissed the spot between his brows, trying to smooth out the furrow that had made its home there. He tensed ever so slightly before relaxing, still getting accustomed to your open affection.

“I’ll always be accompanied by members of the Knights of Favonius,” you detailed. “And I’ll be staying in the city whenever I’m not doing my training.”

Conceding to your rational arguments, his frown melted away with a sigh. The sharpness on his face was replaced with a softer expression as you squeezed his hands. He let out a low hum, focusing on the weight of your hands in his own. After your leave, it would be a little while until he would be able to feel this once again.

“I’ll be alright, Xiao.”

Your voice resonated through his head. Sweet and reassuring.

Of course everything would be alright. It was you after all.

However, there would be nothing stopping Xiao from being who he was either.

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There always seemed to be a pleasant breeze in the City of Mondstadt, neither too strong nor too cold. You were thankful for the window in your room facing outwards into the street so you could always enjoy the fresh air. The accommodation in Angel’s Share tavern was modest, with all the essential features for a visitor like yourself. A bed, a cupboard for storage, and small writing desk below a window.

Today, the winds cooled your skin, toying with loose strands of your hair, but never disrupting the papers on your desk below as you worked.

After tidying up the notes from that day’s alchemical training session, you brought out a fresh piece of parchment. Dipping your quill into the black ink pot, you began to write, taking care so your handwriting wouldn’t be as illegible as your study notes.

Dear Xiao…

To ease your boyfriend’s worries about your status, you also each promised to write to each other. Fortunately, with Liyue and Mondstadt being neighbouring nations, mailing could be sent and received within a few days. Verr Goldet would certainly be surprised to see Xiao skulking around the lobby, secretly waiting for a letter addressed to him.

Too engrossed in your penning, you failed to notice company joining you by your open window.

A small bird landed on the sill with unnatural grace. It hopped curiously, head tilting one side then the other. It was only until it gave a chirp did your head shoot upwards.

“Archons!”

You placed your hand over your chest in surprise. The bird let out another chirp, ruffling its own feathers. A laugh bubbled out of you, amused by how frightened you were by such a harmless creature.

Placing your pen to the side, you leaned your head in your hand and observed the bird.

“You nearly scared me to death, you know that?” you said to it, lifting your brows in mock scolding.

You hadn’t seen a bird like this before. Its plumage was a mixture of teals with purple around the top of its head. Maybe it was a native bird of Mondstadt. You’d have to ask Albedo about it during your training session tomorrow.

The little bird didn’t move. It simply stared back with unblinking eyes.

You were no animal whisperer, yet something about its stance made it look like it was anticipating something. Your natural urge to pet cute things took over and you slowly reached out a hand towards it. That seemed to be the correct response as the bird quickly met the palm of your hand, nuzzling under your touch. You chuckled, rubbing small circles into its head with your thumb.

The bird gave another chirp, quieter this time but satisfied, nonetheless.

“You might be the cutest bird I’ve ever seen,” you mused aloud. “I should keep you to myself and take you home with me.”

From under your palm, the bird squeaked. It almost sounded alarmed. You lifted your hand curiously, and it hopped out of your touch. Its head swivelled around, looking between you and the window behind it. It came to a decision and unfurled its wings, taking flight into the open air.

You stood up and stuck your head out of the window, following its path before it blended in with the clear blue sky and disappeared from your sight.

You flopped back down into your chair, the wood creaking beneath you. The inked greeting you wrote at the beginning of your letter had dried down, settling into the parchment. Smiling to yourself, you picked up your pen and continued to write.

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The little teal bird could only make it to Stone Gate before it had to make a stop.

Away from the eyes of any merchant or traveller passing through, it landed on one of the cliffs that lined the edges of the board walk.

If it were to land where there would be citizens present, it would probably cause a spectacle for what it was about to do next.

Wisps of green energy formed and coalesced around the bird, covering its body. The once tiny form grew larger and larger, reaching human size. Once upon a time, the transformation would have been much faster—almost instantaneous. But it had been a long time since he last used this power.

No trace of the little bird could be found as Xiao’s human form materialized.

Immediately, he fell to his knees. Partly because the transformation had been strenuous to concentrate on, but mostly because of his own embarrassment.

It had been less than a week since your departure, and Xiao could not wait for your first letter. He had to see for himself that no harm had befallen you.

He covered his beet-red face with both gloved hands, letting out a flustered groan.

His act would have been utterly blown had you kept him with you like a pet. The thought of him using up the last of his power and transforming while with you was too mortifying of a scenario. He also harshly reminded himself that you had not called him cute but rather the bird, and therefore there was no reason for his heart to be beating so fast.

How foolish of me... Of course nothing bad happened, he thought to himself. He had seen you unscathed, diligently studying, and even writing this week's letter for him.

Xiao took a moment to regain his energy and steady his heart. He gazed out at the landscape of Dihua Marsh. The remnant sensation of your warm hand caressing his feathered head left goosebumps on his skin. He had missed your soothing touch. Though, it just wasn’t the same compared to his human form. He couldn’t wrap his arms around you, feel you relax in his hold, or smell the scent of your perfume.

Xiao quietly admitted to himself that he preferred that you held his normal self. And because of that, he would be responsible and wait out these remaining four weeks until you returned to Liyue. That would be his first and last instance of spying in on you. Besides, he had your letters to look forward to.

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[starmocha]

Relentless Conqueror [Sylus/Reader ★ 1790 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] To be wedded to the strongest warrior in the village was an honor and a blessing. A/N: I saw someone specified that Sylus is dressed as a Mongolian wrestler in the new memory. I am so excited for it, but um…this fic has absolutely nothing to do with that. My mind just swerved completely off-course the moment I saw this man manhandling us again lmao And…yeah…this is based on this post I made earlier. Still in my ✨shameful Sylus posting era✨ 😔

In the wide-open plane of the grassland, everything could be heard for miles all around. Stretched across the vast expanse, one area was occupied by numerous huts making up a small but thriving village.

Within the village, everyone had a role. The elders guided and led the villagers with their years of wisdom. The men were providers, hunters, and warriors while the women sustained the community and reared the children who would one day take over, thus continuing this cycle of life.

You were no exception. It was time for you to take your place among others with the new role you were about to take.

Fortune had smiled down upon you. Hushed whispers wove through the village, going from mouth to mouth, passing loose lips after loose lips, before the news finally reached you.

Sylus had chosen you to be his bride.

To be chosen by the strongest warrior in the village to be his bride was an honor bestowed only on you. He would provide you with a life of comfort and in turn, you were to bear him strong children. Many of the other maidens envied you, wanting to covet your place, to steal him away from you.

However, Sylus was truly the epitome of the ideal warrior: Large, strong, and imposing. He was unyielding on the battlefield, and he was unyielding in his decisions.

Of all the maidens who had crossed his path, only one had managed to ensnare him, to captivate him like no others.

You.

It was a prosperous union witnessed in a lavish ceremony by the entire village, cheered to be blessed by the gods themselves. A true match made in Heaven, many declared, as the wedding ceremony ended and the celebration began.

Arm linked with your new husband, you greeted and thanked the well-wishers, watching with wonders as everyone feasted and drank to your marriage. The merriment started from morning and continuing well into the late night. After nightfall had descended, Sylus led you away from the celebration. No one noticed the absence of the bride and groom, too drunk on alcohol and the festivities to even be aware of their surroundings.

Sylus whisked you away to his quiet hut, far from the music, laughter, and cheers. He towered over you, holding aside the curtain at the entryway to allow you entrance. As you entered, you could see the hut had been prepped for the wedding night.

It was a very comfortable living space, more extravagant than many of the other villagers’ homes. You barely had a moment to fully take in the sight of your new home before Sylus swept you off your feet, cradled in his arms as he carried you to his bed. He laid you down on fur, your beauty illuminated by the lamps within the hut. You could still hear the residual laughter and chatters outside as the rest of the villagers continued in their merriment celebrating this union.

“Pay them no heed,” Sylus ordered, grasping your chin firmly and forcing your sight on him. “Tonight, and for the rest of our lives, you are mine.”

He kissed you roughly, not minding your inexperience. It pleased him that your chasteness meant you were untouched, meant that he would have the sole honor of claiming you.

He disrobed his blushing bride, guiding your nimble hands to his toned body, letting you touched upon his firm muscles, feel the heat from his body. One by one, accessories fell, clinking and clanking on the ground. Then, his own ceremonial garments were discarded, tossed carelessly to the side and leaving him bare and nude, your eyes feasting on the wonderous sight of your new husband.

You swallowed slowly, feeling the gentle flutters of butterflies in your belly. He smirked at your nervousness. One hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to him. You whimpered when he claimed your lips again, his large body overpowering you in seconds. He had you spread beneath him, his own body looming over yours and keeping you trapped under him. He cupped your sex, startling you as his long, slender fingers worked into your folds.

You let out a sharp gasp, fingers finding their way into his hair, and tugging at him nervously.

“Relax,” he ordered, “You’re not ready for me yet.”

He was well-endowed, his size intimidating, and you unconsciously clenched, only realizing when you heard Sylus’ deep chuckle. You blushed crimson, but your embarrassment soon passed the moment you felt Sylus working his fingers in and out of you.

“Ah—” Your hips moved on their own, desperately meeting his thrusts, wanting more, just a bit more. Your toes curled, body tensing up when you felt his thumb brushing against something that was causing you to jolt in pleasure. “M-more…Sylus…please…”

“You like that, sweetie?”

You nodded numbly, your voice coming out breathless. “Yes…please…my husband.”

You didn’t see the way Sylus’ eyes gleamed in satisfaction, didn’t hear his quick intake of breath over your own helpless moans. He smirked.

He seized your mouth again, taking in your startled cries, his fingers slipping in and out of your wet folds faster and faster. “My bride—my wife…” he murmured back, nipping and sucking greedily, “You’re so wet now, sweetie…Do you feel good?”

You sobbed and cried as his fingers curled inside. There was a tightening in your belly. You called out to him, scared. “Sy—Sylus…”

He shushed you gently. “Come for me.”

You clenched around his fingers, your cries filling the room. Sylus’ smirk widened as he watched you come undone by his fingers alone. He kissed your lips, praising you softly as you panted and sobbed. You barely recovered when he withdrew his fingers, his length taking place.

You bucked in surprise, eyes widening. “Sy-Sylus, no…”

“You are ready for me, my bride,” he assured. He pressed forward and you gripped a handful of the fur throw beneath you, your sensitive body feeling suddenly overstimulated by the massive intrusion taking place. Impossibly big, you thought, as your walls stretched around his thick length, taking him in slowly through much pain. He barely comforted you, seemingly enjoying the sight of you gasping and moaning as you were getting stuffed by him. His soft pants grew shallower, his eyes darkened with desire as he watched his beloved new bride taking him in inch by inch.

He praised you over and over once he was fully sheathed inside you, his deep voice comforting you in that moment. “You’re doing so well,” he said, voice thick with desire, “I have chosen the perfect wife.”

You felt a warmth in your belly, his praise filling you with unexpected joy. “Sylus…”

He smirked.

He took you brutally, riding you as rough and hard like his faithful steed. You wept and sobbed as his powerful thrusts reached that euphoric spot that had you writhing and moaning, begging him for more and more of this sweet, agonizing pleasure. You had never known the touch of a man before this night, and from this moment onwards, Sylus made sure you never will. He was going to make sure your body learned that you were his, craved only him, and only satisfied by him.

He was wrecking you, ruining you. You moaned as his large hand covered your flat belly. “You better prepare yourself, my bride,” he husked, “the women in my family only bear large children.”

You trembled, unsure if what you were feeling was fear or otherwise. He slipped his hands under you, groping and grabbing your buttocks and lifting you off the bed, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Immediately, your head lolled to the side, your moans resounded within the private space as you felt him penetrating you deeply, his pacing still unrelenting and unforgiving. This new angle had you calling out to him needily, feeling the second climax approaching fast.

Closer…and closer…and closer—

“Dear gods…” he groaned as you came undone again, your walls squeezing tightly around his cock. He pressed you back into the bed, letting you ride out your high as he chased after his. His hand grasped yours, pressing them deeper into the bedding.

“Gonna fuck my child into you,” he grunted, his hips slapping against yours, “Gonna breed you, have you heavy with my baby in your womb.”

He fondled your breast, massaging it roughly under his calloused hand. His mouth was close to yours, his hot, humid breath fanned over your lips. “Gonna have you swell, gonna have you bear me sons and daughters over and over again…”

Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him in closer to his surprise. He smirked. His hand reached out to brush your hair out of your sweat-slicked face. He leaned in closer, kissing you briefly, and then he asked, “Did you like the sound of that, my bride? Do you like what I am saying? Do you like knowing this is your role from now on? To bear my children over and over again?”

“Y—” you bit down on your bottom lip, embarrassed.

“Say it,” he demanded, thrusting in harder, eliciting more of your sweet cries.

He held you close and you sobbed into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck as you felt him still pounding into your pussy. “Yes…Yes…!” you cried out, clinging to him, “I want your baby…I want to have all of your babies, Sylus!”

“Fuck’s sake…” His eyes squeezed shut, feeling you come again already. This time, he also felt his own climax, felt himself pumping hot into you. He groaned again, “Take every last drop, sweetie.”

You felt so impossibly full, his seed flooding your womb. There was not a doubt in your head that this union wouldn’t be fruitful. You were going to carry his baby, bear him large, strong sons—future warriors to carry on his legacy.

“My bride, my beautiful bride,” he murmured, lavishing you in his sweet kisses as he pulled out. He gazed down at you, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and doe eyes staring back at him. He hummed softly, his lips finding yours again, his large hand interlocking with yours.

“Mine.”

Beyond the hut, the celebration continued. Laughter and singing continued well into the late night, but within this hut, there was only the labored breathing, desperate gasps and pleased moans filling the space for hours on end. Time seemed to have slowed down, the world quieting.

He took you, claimed you over and over again. Your body was his, and his was yours. From this day and onwards, in this life and all of the lifetimes to come, you were his bride, the only one capable of stealing the heart of the feared conqueror of the grassland.

[justauthoring]

jerk [3].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate. requested -> me begging for another soulmate fic with bakugou 😔😔🤲🏻 requested by -> anonymous

a/n: something a little happy and fluffy for the episode today :) truthfully, i don't even know what this is...

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one. part two.

You liked to think you were good at picking up certain signs.

Bakugou, however, clearly thought the opposite.

U.A. was doing an interactive training program with other schools. This was necessarily anything new, you’ve done them plenty of times now; but what was new was this time you had a soulmate.

Or, rather, you were with your soulmate.

That in of itself was anything new. Lots of people had soulmates and although it was rarer to find yours when you were quite young, as young as you and Bakugou were, it wasn’t unheard of. As you watch the multiple of young heroes in training, just like you, run around, you pick up on the certain singles of bonded pairs.

Two girls walking hand in hand, with beaming smiles on their faces and cheeks rosy from the simple intimacy of their actions. You see a boy pressing a chaste kiss to a girl’s cheek in a corner a few feet away from you, the girl responding with a laugh and half-hearted attempt to bat away the boys wandering lips. Two boys training together on one of the allotted stages, which to any normal gaze looks like nothing special, but you pick up on the way their hearts race and their eyes dance across each other's figures in a burst of excitement because of your quirk.

So, no, you weren’t the only one and certainly not when it came to the world. Of course not.

It was still weird though. At least to you. Bakugou and you have been together for a few months now and at this point you’ve grown used to the relationship. There was even a sense of dependency you felt towards Bakugou, a way that your heart yearned for him in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

The two of you got along great. He made you laugh and smile more than anyone ever had and you seemed to be good at helping him see things through a clearer, calmer lens. There were nights shared together, just the two of you, where hours would pass that felt like seconds of pure bliss as you both simply talked. It was nothing special, if anything it was especially ordinary, but it flooded you with warmth and love and you cherished every second of it.

Things were good. Great.

But in the eyes of others, Bakugou wasn’t a big fan of PDA. He’d do it sometimes; he didn’t mind holding your hand or kissing you quickly after class, things like that. Overall though, his more intimate actions were shared behind closed doors and away from prying eyes and you had no problem with it.

You actually appreciated it. You liked having those special moments where it was just the two of you and no one else. It made them more cherished in your heart.

Bakugou, however, seemed to have no problem with PDA when it came beyond just the eyes of your classmates.

All the different classes had been given a free afternoon; meaning, students were free to choose to focus on whatever they sought best. It was, as Aizawa-sensei explained to your class, an opportunity to better get to know fellow-heroes-in-training and honestly, you’d been very excited at first. There was a group of girls that had quirks you thought meshed well with yours and you’d wanted to talk to them.

That had been the plan.

But Bakugou wouldn’t leave your side! Beyond that, it wasn’t just him hovering nearby, it was him constantly keeping a hand on you and not letting you leave his side. You didn’t necessarily mind if Bakugou came with you until you realized that he seemed to scare every person away from him, which, in turn, meant from you.

“You’re pouting.”

Huffing, you turn away from Bakugou; “I'm annoyed.”

“Is it wrong that I want to spend time with my girlfriend?” Bakugou quirks a challenging brow at you, smirking.

“No,” you roll your eyes. “But you scare everyone away.”

“Oi.”

“It’s true!”

Sighing, there’s an echoed moment of silence before Bakugou frowns down at you. “I’m just worried about you.”

Shifting so his arm is no longer around your waist and rather you’re holding it, you glance up at him; “we’re literally surrounded by a bunch of heroes-in-training.” Then, pausing, you add somewhat spitefully; “which includes me.”

Bakugou just shakes his head; “I know.”

“Katsuki,” you call, reaching forward to brush your fingers across his cheek in the way you know he likes. Instantly, the tension in his face eases; something that never fails to make you smile. “We’re supposed to be mingling.”

He scoffs. “You sound like shitty hair.”

“Because Eijirou is right,” you challenge.

Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, Bakugou hesitates; “what do they matter? They’re a bunch of extras anyway.”

“I thought we were done calling our friends extras,” you remind.

“They’re not our friends.”

“Katsuki.”

“Fine,” he snaps, face pinched in clear annoyance but a certain frustration in the fact that he knows you’re right. “I’ll leave you and ‘mingle’,” he makes sure to add the air quotes. “But only for an hour. Then I'll find you and we’re gonna do some training.”

“Yes,” you nod, “of course. Naturally.”

Your words are teasing but said with a certain fondness. Bakugou was always training and it was clearly a hobby of his that he wanted to share with you – honestly, sometimes his training sessions were absolute hell but you’d put up with them for his sake.

With a final nod and a kiss, Bakugou stomps off. Distantly, you hear him shouting ‘shitty-hair’ but you figure Kirishima can deal with his clingy ass for an hour while you go and meet some new people. 

And for the first forty minutes, it goes well. You’re bouncing from area to area, meeting new people and chatting with them, even sparring with a few. It’s great. You loved your class and your friends, but it was so interesting getting new perspectives from different people that were training in different ways than U.A. typically did. It was absolutely invigorating and you were reveling in every second of it.

Until you come across a boy named Aoto.

The conversation starts fine; he kind of runs into you but you laugh it off and learn he’s actually from a school located in America that had come down to Japan for this huge hero event. You compliment him on his Japanese, finding it amazing that he nails the pronunciation of words so well and falls into an eased conversation. Then, as the minutes pass by, the conversation starts to shift into a stranger topic.

Aoto asks if you’ve found your soulmate – it’s rather sudden and not something you’re really expecting. Still, you tell him you have and he asks if it was the blonde boy he’s seen glued to your side the entire day; it’s said with a certain edge you’re thrown off by and that’s where you start to grow a little weary.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly. “Katsuki. The way we found out is actually a funny story—”

“Isn’t he the one that the League of Villains took when he was in his first year?”

Your lips are left parted from his sudden interruption, but instantly your eyes narrow at his tone. “The League of Villains kidnapped him,” you say warily, somewhat defensively. “But Katsuki fought to get away and never once even considered their offer to join them—”

“Yeah,” Aoto cuts you off again, dismissing you with a single wave of his hand. “But isn’t he the reason why All Might had to retire too?”

Instantly, all pretense disappears. You’d already been annoyed but your face shifts into something nasty at his insinuation; even more because you knew that was something that still haunted Bakugou to this day. It wasn’t true, of course, but you knew that it still remained on his mind constantly.

“All Might fought to save one of his students,” you hiss, taking a step back from him. “And it isn’t Katsuki's fault the fight ended that way.”

“I don’t know,” Aoto hums, “someone like that? I wouldn’t care if he was my soulmate, I’d stay away from him. He’s quite terrifying too, I’d bet that if given another chance he wouldn’t hesitate to join—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as he suddenly falls to his knees, clutching his head in pain as he lets out a cry. You step towards him as he does, letting him wallow in pain for a moment longer before letting go. Aoto instantly falls back the second he does, staring up at you in disbelief and fear as you glare down at him; 

“You don’t know the first thing about Katsuki. So don’t pretend you do.”

Aoto just sputters up at you, eyes wide, practically shaking.

Then, a familiar voice calls out; “Y/N?”

You spin, face easing the second you meet Bakugou’s. He’s walking towards you, confused eyes flickering between you and Aoto, who's still on the ground, before Bakugou finally registers the look on your face and instantly, Bakugou’s eyes narrow.

“Did this damn extra do something to you?”

Rushing forward, you catch Bakugou by the arm before he can reach Aoto, pulling him towards you; “Katsuki. Katsuki! It’s fine, it’s okay!”

Bakugou just shakes his head as Aoto stares fearfully up at him, looking near tears.

“No, it’s not,” Bakugou growls, “if he hurt you or said anything—”

Shifting, you press both of your hands against Bakugou’s cheeks, cupping them and forcing him to meet your eyes. He’s panting and his eyes are wild but he instantly focuses on you, gaze softening.

“Let’s just go,” you whisper, “I just wanna spend time with you.”

That catches his attention. All anger wipes from his face instantly and Bakugou is instantly easing in your grasp, face brightening as slowly nods, moving to take your head in his own and threading his fingers through yours. He squeezes your hand, sending one last frightening glance Aoto’s way before walking off, leading you with him.

Then, a few minutes later when it’s just the two of you, Bakugou smirks down at you; 

“Thought you wanted to ‘mingle’.”

Grinning, you shrug; “it’s more fun with you.”