#i am desperately waiting to get bashed for this one

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Heart Killers time, woot woot!

I do have to say, watching what's happening with Jack & Joker right now, I hope people are not letting their expectations get ahead of them with this one either... though I know that's probably a futile wish. Expectation is such a thief of joy, y'all.

Anyway, my only expectation in this is I will have a good time, so let's do it!

How this man doesn't just expire from Bison doing this to him, I have no idea.

Oh, this line. Jojo knows us so well.

Ooh, we're having a black vs red debate!

In Bison's defense, he looks really good in red.

Something cracks me up about Kant looking for hookups at the bowling alley. Is that really good hunting ground? Maybe in Thailand? Definitely not in the U.S.

Oh Jojo, you bad, bad man.

I am gonna get full on obsessed with Dunk's tummy, aren't I?

Also just realizing how much of this show I am going to spend thinking how good the pairings of FirstDunk & JoongKhaotung could be...

Lolol, target acquired!

Ha, this is so me when a man tries to tell me what to do.

I like Bison being all "if you wanna fuck me, just say so". We have a very direct man here.

Nooooo, Style don't be a stupid driver.

I was not expecting an early Fadel/Style meetup! See, it's fate.

Way to make a horrible first impression Style! But I am loving how their dynamics are. Fadel is such a tight ass, it's gonna be great when he cracks.

Quite a first time scene for our boys! And people say GMMTV is gonna tamp down the gay, lololol.

Also can we take a moment to admire this shot? The red, the mirrors, there's a lot going on here. Beautiful.

I like that the burger uniforms are a mix of Fadel & Bison colorwise.

I also think it's hilarious that Fadel ordered black plastic gloves to maintain his aesthetic.

Omg, I am dying that Bison shot a gun at karaoke. He's a little disaster.

Hmmmm, mother? Interesting...

Ooh, silver fox alert!

Always appreciate some eye candy for us older fans.

Ah, of course the cop is a manipulative jerk. Hot, but a jerk.

Ain't this just a mood.

Heh, when the man you just had mind-blowing sex with turns out to be an assassin you have to stalk. If I had a nickel...

Oh, I think Style is gonna be my favorite. Dumb and chaotic.

As much as I enjoy a height difference couple, there is something about two men who are the exact same height...

Also love the black & white - because they are opposites!

Wait...does Bison not know how to cook burgers? Did... did he just put the raw patty on the board they use to chop veggies? Am I going to get stressed about food safety in this action romcom?!

I like that Fadel has this subtle air of general menace about him.

Aaaaah, bashful Bison is so cute!!!!! "Take me out...nooooo...really?"

This boy desperately wants to be loved. My heart.

Style is a slutty menace and I love him!

I also love that they are establishing the attraction is there before the deal gets made.

Ah, I was wondering if Kant was a philosophical reference!

Does Jojo have a "First eating burgers" fetish? That's been two extreme closeups in one episode. Just sayin'.

"Crazy and bold" is pretty spot on for Style!

Oh don't try to complain Style, you know you want him.

Ok, the yellow & purple... Are these their real colors, or the ones hiding their real colors as they embark on their mission?

Another costuming note - both Kant & Style had sunglasses as part of their outfits when they started their lying... love that little detail.

Good lord, that many beers and I'd be peeing every two minutes.

Oh! Fadel figuring out they're friends already! What a twist!

This was so much fun!

[k0dster]

I think if I see another ghoulucy shipper I might have to check myself into a mental hospital

Anyways, now that that's out of the way, ik you're not supposed to hate ppls ships, but what is there to like?

It's a 200 year old radiated ghoul with a girl who he waterboarded, watched chew his finger off, and then sold her organs to a robot for drugs bc he didn't give a flying damn about her! Ah yes, my favorite trope!

Did I mention his wife and kid whom he's looking for??

Not to mention Maximus. This is pretty self explanatory, I shouldn't have to elaborate, but I will anyways.

Need I say more?

I feel like some of it might be race related (don't cancel me) but regardless of it is or isn't, not liking Max just bc he gets in the way of whatever tf vaultghoul is just feels midly wrong.

Like I understand not liking him for killing a knight, trying to kill thaddeus, ect. But not liking him simply bc he gets in the way of a non Canon ship leads to you guessed it! Discrimination, the pipeline to racism!

Don't forget the part where the ghoul was going to kill Lucy, no hesitation, if not for Max!

Anyways, I'm done complaining. I hate ghoulucy and ghoulucy shippers. I also hate that I have to ask where the fandom is for a CANON ship but where are all the vaultknight shippers at?

Side note/Edit: for shits and giggles bc yes, I do say more, and healthy relationships are cute and lovely

Love that knight and his vault princess frfr

[talesofesther]

I'll crawl home to her

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Tales of Aemond's love for you.

A/N: In Ewan's words; the only thing that can beat Aemond is love. If you like this story, you'll like my ongoing series too. ;)

Masterlist

Aemond loves you behind closed doors.

He loves you with the way his pinky hooks around yours under the tables, during supper and council meetings.

He loves you with subtle looks and barely there smiles across rooms filled with people where he can only see you.

He loves you when he comes back tasting of heartache and guilt, with raindrops or tears staining his cold skin and clothes clinging to his body. When he stumbles into your room whispering sins against your embrace only for you to kiss the words, kiss his cheeks, kiss his scar, kiss the tears away. He clings to your body, your nightgown nearly ripping with his desperation.

But it's alright, because there's only you and him and the soft light of the candles in your room. It's alright because you cradle his head, fingertips burying between wet silver locks. It's alright because you whisper forgiveness into his ears, even if he feels undeserving.

And maybe war is now inevitable, but for a fraction of a moment, Aemond feels entirely at peace.

He loves you when you watch him from afar and notice the stiffness of his shoulders, the tapping of his fingers on the table. And then you'll find an excuse to call his name and get him away from the crowds, asking for some help with something mundane. You lace your fingers together, loose and yet so present. You take a familiar route through a lone hallway, you open the doors to the library hidden away in the confines of the Keep, pull him in, and close it again.

Aemond falls to you, his forehead is leaning against yours, his eye is closed, and he can breathe. You feel like fresh air. He nuzzles his nose to yours before asking for a kiss, it's all timid and bashful, he's not sure how to love yet, all he knows is that he feels it, insistent and warm; all-consuming.

But you hold his cheeks, you guide him, you teach him. Your fingers are in his hair and your soft lips touch the corner of his mouth; all delicate and devoted, Aemond doesn't know what to do with this much love, he might crumble.

His hands are around you, all over, and he's almost afraid to hurt you; even if you promise time and time again that he could never. Aemond sighs against your lips, and it sounds a lot like; "I am yours."

He loves you because there is no need for words with you. When he holds himself back from going to you all day—between planning for a war he's fighting alone and hearing his own mother talk of him as if he were a monster—the arrival of the night feels like a reprieve. It's the moment he waits for the most, for he can lay down his armor.

Aemond walks by the garden, picking up a single blue flower. He hides it away as he walks to your chambers, no one needs to know—even if everyone already knows anyway. He gives you the blue flower, with pink on his cheeks; he feels like a young boy in love—perhaps he is.

You kiss him, sweet and soft and tasting like the blueberries you stole from the kitchen earlier. And Aemond could cry, because if he has you, he's not alone.

You're the one who takes off his eyepatch, and then his coat, and his pants, and pulls loose his hair—you brush your lips over his shoulders when you do it, and he knows no one could love him the way you do. There's nothing sexual about it even if you're the muse of all his desires. He simply lays with you in bed, his head on your chest, and you trace the outlines of his body as you speak about your day. There are goosebumps on his skin, and he loves to hear you speak, about anything and everything, it soothes his troubled soul.

It's quiet, and Aemond falls asleep with the feeling of you braiding his hair. It'll be a little curly in parts when morning comes. He never minds it.

And he loves you with the way he won't be able to speak the three words. But he'll trace and kiss them on your skin every single night. And you understand, because you always say them back.

He loves you because of the way you sometimes hold the tip of his fingers with yours behind your backs.

He loves you with the way he'll threaten death to anyone who looks at you wrong.

He loves you with the way he could burn the whole world and yet not let a single flame touch your skin.

He loves you because you'll kiss his lips even if he tastes of blood and war.

He loves you because you'll hold his pieces together when everyone else is trying to tear him apart.

He loves you because even in the darkest of days, you're always there in the end.

He loves you because even if you exchange nothing but glances when amidst other people, you'll embrace his very soul in private.

He loves you because you wait with bathed breath when he takes Vhagar to the skies, and never think twice about mounting on a horse to gallop towards the woods outside of King's Landing when you spot the dragon's large silhouette bringing him back.

You jump from the white horse, Aemond jumps from Vhagar, and you meet each other in the middle. He holds you close in a needy embrace, as if each minute could be the last. And when you pull back, you don't ask questions or make demands, you simply run your thumbs over his cheekbones and breathe easiness into his skin. The feeling of you is always like coming home.

Amidst a world of war, you're a safe haven.

He loves you because you are the one who taught him what love feels like.

Aemond loves you behind closed doors. Wholly, truly, passionately. And with all of him that no one else is allowed to see.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Aemond's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[uhohdad]

(18+) König x Reader - Catching Him Getting Off

It takes you far too long to process both your mistake and the sight before you.

Even though you’re stumbling and your vision is blurry, you knew something was up. This was not the room you had left when you went to the bathroom to relieve a bladder so full it threatened to burst. The room you had just left was packed with your teammates, pungent with the smell of alcohol, and flooded with songs you don’t recognize.

This room was almost silent, smelled of musk, and held only one occupant.

Your colonel.

Shirtless.

His impressive, intimidating form sprawled out on a bed he makes look comically small, muscles tight and glistening with sweat. His massive arm bulging to pump what is no doubt the largest cock you have ever seen, at full attention and freed from his sweatpants.

König’s eyes flit to you, so obviously not where you’re supposed to be. While his brow quirks and the pace of his pumps slow, he doesn’t rush to cover himself up or even stop what he’s doing.

When your brain finally catches up, you scramble, shouting desperate apologies and tripping over yourself to leave and slam his door shut behind you.

You do not return to your team. You dart straight to your room, seal yourself away, and pace for the better part of an hour.

You manage to get away with your avoidance for a few days. Hardly lifting your head from the floor and darting away anytime he neared. The burn of his stare is hard to ignore, though. Searing and white hot. But there’s no way you’ll be able to make eye contact with him ever again. Not when you know what his thick cock looks like when glistened with precum and being pleasured by his fist. Not when you’ve already gotten off to the thought of helping him out with his needs by letting him rut into you instead of his hand.

Always blunt and never bashful, he waits until your guard is down before he corners you. He plants his giant hand just in front of your lunch and leans down until you have no choice but to acknowledge him. It’s hard to look at his arm and not picture the muscles you know reside underneath his uniform.

“You don’t have to be so shy around me.”

“Colonel, I am so sorry. I thought I was- Please, can we just forget that even happened? I won’t tell anyone, I- I haven’t-”

“Es ist okay,” He says, soft and reassuring.

It’s so jarring from his usual assertive and even vitriolic way of speaking. You don’t have the sense to hide the furrow of your brow.

His eyes crinkle, and he gives a low hum with a tilt of his head. It’s hard to resist squirming with those intense, piercing eyes boring into you.

“Did you like what you saw?”

“What?” You ask through a nervous laugh.

You heard him, oh you heard him, but you have to hear it again to be sure.

“Did you like what you saw?”

His repetition doesn’t waver. The words roll off his tongue far too casually for such a forward question.

You don’t have an answer for him. You’re paralyzed under his stare, by his brazen words, trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke you don’t understand. Your mouth parts in anticipation to answer his question but fail to form the words. He doesn’t wait for you to scrounge up a response before he throws another impossible question at you.

“Do you want to see it again?”

You suck in a sharp breath and finally look away. After a beat, you give a shameful but eager nod.

Suddenly you’re back in his quarters, on your knees before his monstrous, impossible form. Stripped of your clothes while he stands covered head to toe except for the cock freed from his waistband. He studies you carefully, your head craned back and pitiful eyes trained on him. Your mouth is open, tongue stuck out, obediently waiting for the finish he’s working toward. His hands are just a blur, pumping himself to the sight of the tiny little thing kneeling between his boots.

“Sehr gut,” He breathes, “So patient for me.”

He slows to run the head of his cock along your slick tongue.

“You want to get off too, süßes kleines ding?”

While your cheeks are burning and you feel more than degraded, the growing stain of arousal in your panties tells a different story.

“So hübsch.”

König reaches down to cup your jaw and guides you to look at him while his foot nudges its way between your thighs.

“Grind on my boot.”

You whine, keeping your mouth open and ready like the obedient little soldier you are, and lower yourself onto his boot. Cheeks flushed with heat as you wrap your arms around his leg and grind your soaked panties along the leather. Relieving the needy ache between your legs and chasing that warm jolt of pleasure with each brush over your clit.

“Ich werde dieses hübsche Gesicht ruinieren.”

Your eyes instinctively pinch shut when you feel the warm droplets of his finish splatter on your cheek. He lets out a choppy moan as he paints your face and outstretched tongue in his sticky mess, making sure to milk every last drop on his waiting canvas.

“Look at me,” He grits.

He takes a moment to admire his work, tilting your head side to side with a gentle but firm hand on your jaw. He hums content before letting go, tucking himself back into his boxers and buttoning up his pants.

“Swallow,” He orders.

You finally close your mouth as you take down what he managed to get on your tongue, intrusive and salty.

He gives a gentle wiggle of his boot and squints at you, surely wearing a smug grin beneath that hood.

“You can clean your face after you finish yourself off, liebling.”

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[smilesatdawnmain]

ETERNAL LMK AU (Part 1) (Interactive Story)

Hello everyone! I welcome you with another interactive story. Instead of hand-drawn art, I am going to do some writing for this one.

This story will be using my "Eternal" au concept. ( I dunno if I'll ever post this as a fanfic, so might as well let those curious viewers get a chance to see this some way or another)

If interested you can go to my Au's listed at the top of my homepage to learn a few details of this au, or simply let the story play out to figure out what is going on.

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story: Eternal

Ships: Shadowpeach

Angst: You betcha

Fluff: With enough choices, maybe we'll get there.

------------story below------------------------

We often take for granted our senses until they are taken away. Touch and smell, these are the few things that we rarely go without as living beings in the world.

Ah, but he wasn't really living anymore, was he?

Liu'er Mihou, the Six-Eared Macaque, shadow of the King... quite literally now.

For years, he had observed Wukong struggling to understand death and desperately trying to avoid it. Time after time, the King collected and consumed immortality, hoarding it for himself without any intention of sharing it with others. Macaque supposed in his conquest to ensure he never died, Wukong didn't quite consider that those around him didn't hold the same invincibility. Macaque being one of those few who lingered around the King. He was a demon, of course, which naturally granted a long life span- but not eternal.

Perhaps that is why Wukong fought with such wild abandon when he struck the Moon Monkey down. And perhaps that is why Wukong's face contorted into a ghostly mask of shock and horror the moment he heard the bone wrenching snap of Liu’er Mihou’s skull.

The trembling of his hands as he held Macaque up, fingers stained red and eyes quivering like a leaf in the wind.

"I-I didn't mean- I thought you were- No... No!!"

Poor excuses to cover up that Wukong just wasn't aware enough to realize he had never once shared a peach of immortality with the raven furred monkey. Never shared a small cup of immortal elixir. Never mattered enough to the King who had everything.

Perhaps Macaque was just too good at pretending that he didn't fear for his life every time he followed the invincible Monkey King out into the world. If he was just a bit easier to read, maybe Wukong would have realized that is oldest friend, the holder of his heart, was just as afraid of death as he was.

So it didn't matter how desperately Wukong tried to stop the bleeding, or sobbed his name, there was no undoing that bludgeoning force that had bashed Macaque's head in two.

After that, a period of darkness ensued. The world turned cold and he couldn't feel the ground beneath him anymore. He couldn't even taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth; all that filled his ears were wet whimpers and the sound of his own heart beating erratically before slowing into silence.

Then even the crying faded away.

He thought the Diyu would claim him then. For what felt like years he waited in that darkness for something to happen. To realize the horrors that always left Wukong quivering in his boots when death took you.

There was nothing. Perhaps this was the punishment? Or was this just what death was- Nothing. How boring. How lonely.

“——-”

If his ears could move, they would have flickered. For a moment, a single moment, undoubtedly insanity, he heard faint murmurs and sounds?

Sometimes they sounded like people talking, a scolding tone or a bout of laughter. Other times it sounded like a battle or conflict. There was the sound of a trotting horse, clinking metal, and a crackling fire. He thought his own mind was torturing him when he swore he heard Wukong laughing.

It wasn't until he heard the sound of running water and a trickling waterfall one day that Macaque recognized a sound. It was hard to ever forget the sounds of one’s own home, after all.

Flower Fruit Mountain.

The sound of the waterfall that marked the entrance to his and Wukong's home was forever etched in his memory. Without hesitation, he traced the source of the sound. It was like swimming through mud, but it led him upward.

Then there was light and he could see!

He was home. He was within the mountain, in the safety of their hut- could he even call it “their” hut anymore. It didn’t matter.

He knew this place. He could see the colors and hear the noises- it only lacked it’s smell.

Dazed, he turned left and right, pinching his own cheeks but finding no sensation as he did so. It had to be a dream...

...a fleeting illusion framed by the memories of life he once knew. He blinked at the vibrant colors around him—the greens of the foliage, the warm browns of the wood, and the brilliant orange of a sunset spilling through the door just ajar. Oh, he was home.

He was home!

Then...

He saw Wukong.

He emerged from their- from the bedroom, removing the armor that adorned his shoulders. Glittering gold that matched his hair and eyes. Macaque staggered back in surprise.

When their eyes locked, he expected Wukong to say something- to glare or sneer- anything...

Wukong's steps were slow, but purposeful as he advanced towards Macaque. A sense of panic gripped Macaque, causing him to involuntarily retreat backwards in fear. Fear of pain. Of going from pain, to nothing, and then back to pain was an unbearable thought.

He inhaled sharply, his own skull aching- reminding him of what Wukong had done. What he could do again. What he would do again! "G-Get away-!" he threw his arm out with little avail to his murderer, his lover, his everything, "Wukong, please!" The tremor in his voice betrayed him, ringing hollow against the walls of their home.

One step, then two, unstopping and unrelenting. Uncaring…

And then moving past him?

Macaque gasped as Wukong’s form, sold and unbreakable, phased right through him. Eyes wide he hiccuped, turning to where Wukong was still walking down that hall. He hadn’t even batted an eye.

Macaque touched his own chest, finding he could, his eyes still glued to Wukong’s back. Eventually he tore his gaze away and looked himself over.

What?

The question held no answer. He heard the door open, and then close- Wukong had left. He was going somewhere. Leaving a mess of scattered belongings and clothes, armor strewn here and there… left to be examined and the house to be freely explored.

How long has Wukong been home? Was the journey over? Where was he going now? Why hadn’t he said anything? Too many questions to investigate.

Next part

[princessbrunette]

shy!reader who study medicine and spider!jj always goes there when he's hurt for care 🥺

˚ ༘ ���️⋆🩷｡˚

answering the door at 4am, there’s only one person it could be. the blonde listens to you unlatching your door before you’re revealed in all your sleepy glory, rubbing at one eye in the cutest little pyjamas.

he’s pretty banged up this time — a busted lip and his suit is ripped at his rib cage, nothing he couldn’t fix but the gash beneath it was definitely something you were going to have to stitch up. your brows knit together, eyeing him over.

“you should see the other guy, cupcake.” he jokes, despite being in clear pain. you huff out your nose, tugging him inside.

“why are you using the front door? did anyone see you?” you stress, leading him by the hand to your quaint little living room. it wasn’t much, rather shabby if anything — but living in the city wasn’t cheap and it was the best you could do.

“ah, i used the fire escape. this asshole spared me some brain cells when he was kicking my shit in. you really think i’d just walk up in here?” he scoffs, dropping down comfortably on the couch as you frantically make space on the coffee table, spreading out your first aid kit.

“you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, jayj.” you pout, beginning to dig for the antiseptic.

“oh but then who will patch me up everytime i get my ass beat?” he tilts his head and his messy blonde hair flops with it, grinning lopsidedly in the dim light of the room, the cut on his lip glistening with it. you hate how your stomach stirs with butterflies for your best friend. your face gets all hot, averting your eyes and you feel him grinning harder — he always did love how bashful you got.

things get quiet when you start to wipe up his rib injury, aside from his dramatic winces and curse words tumbling from his mouth.

“you’re going to wake my neighbours.” you giggle, after a particularly loud ‘fuck’ from him.

“hey, maybe they’ll think you’re gettin’ some.” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows. as you reach for another cotton pad, your mouth moves on autopilot.

“i wish.” you remark, straying from your usual shy ways. his brows instantly jump up with intrigue, and you avoid his eyes, pressing your lips together as you busy yourself. you’d always been shy, since he’d met you — that’s why he’d taken you under his wing. he was dorky where it counted sure, but also boyish and confident in a way a lot of guys your age lacked. it made sense that he was spiderman, the unexpected amounts of unbridled swagger mixed with the scrappy awkwardness you’d expect from your best friend. he was drawn to your shyness because of how different you were, and because he knew deep down there was a freak just waiting for him to break it free.

“you know, if you ever wanna set up a — uh, lil payment plan, if you will — i could show you a real good time, mama.” he lays it on thick, too thick — incase you reject him, and then he can play it off as a joke. the problem is his tone is so teasing, you don’t know if he’s joking. your eyes flicker up to him from your knelt position, all doe-like and sweet in the way that makes him wish his spider suit wasn’t so tight as to not reveal his excitement.

“huh?”

“nah nothing. unless…you really get desperate. can totally step in and help you out. y’know in the…sex department.” he shrugs, tonguing at his lip cut and internally cussing himself out for being such a weirdo.

you blink a couple times, shifting to sit on your feet.

“are you concussed?” you speak after the pause.

“am i conc— no, okay it was a — an offer. but i feel like i kinda made it weird so that’s my bad let’s just pretend that didn’t happen and we can—”

“i wouldn’t mind.” you suddenly but quietly break through his ramble. he blinks a couple of times, lips parted in surprise.

“you wouldn’t mind — like… pretending this didn’t happen? or… the other thing?”

“the other thing.” you’re reduced down to a whisper now, eyes locked. he sits up slowly, leaning forward on the seat with his elbows on his knees so that your faces were close. in the low light, your pupils are all blown out, searching his eyes.

“you mean that?” he smirks, almost like he doesn’t believe you. you swallow and nod, not trusting your voice. something about it being 4am made you braver, and you’d completely forgotten about tending to his injuries. “well alright then. how ‘bout when i’m not bleeding out on your couch? gotta be in top condition when i put the moves on you.”

just like that, you’re brought back to reality — this time with the whisper of a promise that the two of you could be something more. you could be more than a late night emergency patch up.

˚ ༘ 🕷️⋆🩷｡˚

[khattikeri]

prefacing this post by saying this is not a ship bashing post; i like all these ships; i am musing on my own personal preferences

i think the reason why i like wangxian and bingqiu just a little bit more than hualian boils down to the misunderstandings, with the sex scenes of their respective stories being insights into those misunderstandings.

in mdzs, lan wangji and wei wuxian's misunderstandings come about because 1) they were acquainted but not seriously close friends 2) they had to deal with a massive war and its aftermath. lan wangji was worried for wei wuxian's personal safety and had romantic feelings for him. wei wuxian was slowly led to believe over time that lan wangji didn't really like him much and wanted to harm him just like everyone else in spite of wei wuxian's righteous actions.

combined with their respective upbringings as a respectable second son and the dubiously accepted son of a servant who always has to watch his own back, there's a lot for them to untangle after the death and resurrection and feelings realization! but the moment they do realize that they're mutually in love, they jump on the chance to stay together, no more miscommunication, no waiting, no more turning away from each other again.

and the respective sex scene: you explicitly see the peerless illustrious hanguang-jun lan wangji straining, apologetic and still openly nervous during his and wei wuxian's first time. because they didn't talk things out! they were too excited! they were too happy and intent to have each other after all those years of pain so they rushed into it without really discussing anything beforehand. so lan wangji doesn't actually know if wei wuxian is going nooooo~ in a sexy way or if wei wuxian actually seriously wants lan wangji to stop. it's flawed and they work out each other's preferences later on, but they both enjoyed themselves and continue to do so even in future sex scenes.

in svsss, shen qingqiu and luo binghe's misunderstandings come about because 1) former is a modern day transmigrator compelled to not reveal anything about the story or what he actually feels for any of the characters 2) the latter is desperate to understand the former's contradictory actions and to not be abandoned.

combined with several miscommunications and hasty assumptions (e.x. luo binghe thinking that shen qingqiu must've harmed him because he despised luo binghe's half-demon ancestry; shen qingqiu thinking that luo binghe intends to torture him the way he tortured the original story's counterpart shen qingqiu) and you get a fascinating and heartrending dynamic where they clearly adore each other and are dismayed at the idea that it's inevitable for the other one to despise them and want to hurt them. things clear up because they show each other their devotion and intent to stay.

and the respective sex scene: their first time isn't even written to be titillating! they're still in the middle of battle. luo binghe's mind is being overpowered by the demonic sword xin mo, so even though shen qingqiu is okay with dual cultivation/sex to pacify the sword's lust for conquering, it's extremely rough and unpleasant. it is violent and painful and leaves shen shingqiu so battered he looks like he's been assaulted, which horrifies luo binghe when he finally regains his senses.

they're distraught as hell! it traumatizes them both! and yet in spite of that and in spite of their fears of being hurt they want to stay with each other and they actively choose to keep being with each other. they improve their communication and clearly seem to understand each other's quirks and sexual preferences better in the extras and after marriage.

versus in tgcf: xie lian and hua cheng got along with each other from day 1. there was a spark the moment xie lian met san lang on the back of that ox cart. they talked for ages and were endeared to each other basically immediately! even during the ghost bride mission where they didn't really speak to one another, xie lian clearly felt a connection to the mysterious groom who gently and safely led him through the blood rain.

through all their present-day adventures and the final battle, even when they separate by choice or by force of circumstance, hua cheng and xie lian don't ever have a serious falling out. hua cheng is loyal to the bone and xie lian is also deeply drawn to hua cheng; both their respective insecurities are treated seriously and with sincerity by the other. there may be some confusion about each other's feelings, but even that isn't twisted to the point that they completely misconstrue each other's intentions and characters.

there isn't a central misunderstanding or miscommunication between hualian the way wangxian or bingqiu had; just a mutual past to be unraveled, and the looming question of if xie lian will actually act upon his feelings/the fact that he's attracted to and in love with hua cheng.

and the respective sex scene: we don't have any explicit sex scenes due to censorship. everything is in xie lian's rather selective point of view (and he's the type who hides certain details from readers for entire volumes on end!) so the most we get is the skimmed summary: xie lian really enjoyed it and hua cheng is kind of rough. just the implication that hua cheng was naturally amazing and satisfied xie lian fully, without any particularly humanizing aspects or awkward/upsetting first time moments.

of course tgcf is a beautiful story and a lovely romance in its own right, but personally, i found mdzs and svsss's main pairings more compelling because of the misunderstandings and how the sex scenes tied into the characters' personalities and overall relationship arcs.

[butmakeitgayblog]

MBFW as parents sneaking in a quickie bc it’s been forever since they’ve gotten alone time? 🥺

It honestly felt like a page right out of their early days as a newly in love couple when they'd sneak away every single chance they could get.

A quick makeout in the third floor English department bathroom, slipping fingers beneath nudged aside underwear and breathing a sigh of relief into each other's mouth in the sorority house's coat closet during a rowdy party where they won't be missed. All the times they'd pulled at each other in desperate need for the world to wait just 10 more damn minutes, even though their schedules where constantly dragging them to the opposite ends of campus.

And having with two small children under the age of 5 certainly hasn't made things any easier this time around.

But what's exciting and exponentially better is the fact that now they have an actual bed.

A wonderful bed, with memory foam instead of cheap noisy springs, and a box frame that can handle whatever they throw at it.

Which was why they had grasped the opportunity to slip away from their house full of guests.

One look over the sea of party hat-topped toddlers and PTA moms working their way through a 3rd cup of 'Adult Juice' - that may or may not contain a healthy percentage of wine - and that was all it had taken for Lexa to fade into the shadows and slink out of the room with only fiery glance behind her. That was all it had taken for Clarke to laugh at the conversation she was no longer listening to before excusing herself with the excuse that she needed to check on something, uh... upstairs.

And Lexa had decided right in that moment that they would be rediscovering their lost art of disappearing more often in the future the second she pulled her wife into their room and latched on to that pretty mouth.

Seven years of marriage had done nothing to dull her addiction to taste of Clarke's lips. She moaned at the flavor of well salted pretzels and the triple berry punch their daughter had picked off the shelf at random for her 4th birthday bash, mixed with that flavor that she could only so elegantly describe as 'mmmm, Clarke tongue.'

Scrumptious.

Walking backward toward the bed and dragging her wife along for the ride, Lexa moaned with just how badly she'd been yearning for these few minutes alone. Between breastfeeding and diaper changes and treating a few hundred boo-boos on knees, it felt like it'd been an eternity since either could just enjoy a second to themselves without the heavy veil of exhaustion.

They smiled into their kisses, shushing each other's giggles of freedom as hands roved without restraint. The confines of time only made it all more giddy, more like a sweet rush of adrenaline as they collapsed into a graceless mess of limbs on the foot of their bed.

"What d'you think we got?" Lexa'd whispered while yanking Clarke's shirt clear from her jeans. "Fifteen minutes?"

Clarke shook her head at the hopefulness and tossed her leg over her wife's hips to straddle her. "Ten, tops, so long as the sangria holds out. Maybe five if someone starts crying."

Shoving the button through the hole and ripping down the zipper, Lexa gave Clarke a wicked grin.

"I can work with that."

"You're— ahh," Clarke cut off in a breathy gasp when Lexa raked her nails along the swell of her hipbone and slipped beneath the waist of her jeans. "You're very sure of yourself."

Dragging her fingertip along the damp strip of underwear, Lexa twitched them aside and hummed at the slick already waiting for her.

"Yes, I am."

She leaned up for another kiss, luxuriating in the tickle of dark curls as she traced the length of her wife's slit. A few passes left her fingers soaked in arousal, so thick she could almost taste it in the way it clung to her skin. She took her time smearing it around, making sure Clarke was completely ready despite the proper build up, coaxing strings up just to teasingly rub feather light circles over the clit that peeked out from its hood.

Pulling back from the kiss, she caught the darkened blue eyes and held then, soaking in the way they fluttered as she dipped down and pushed in with two fingers.

The wet heat that enveloped her was like an electric shock to her system. Every clench around her fingers made Lexa pulse in sympathy, so turned on she could barely focus on starting up a steady rhythm. It made Lexa realize just how much they had been letting this slide between them recently - neglecting this aching want that had always so powerful between them.

She had missed this feeling in the chaos of being moms. This connection and vulnerability that came from holding Clarke close while seated deep inside.

But as much as she'd have loved to lay her wife down and take her time with her, to fuck and cuddle and worship the way she'd been aching to for days, a muffled laugh from downstairs reminded her that they were indeed on a time crunch.

Shifting her wrist and shoving her thumb forward, Lexa swallowed her wifes gasp when she bumped the senstive underside of the bud. She pumped her fingers as deep the position would let her and found that deliciously spongy patch of skin that never failed to set her wife off like a rocket.

"Oh f— God, Lex," Clarke whined through clenched teeth, bucking into her palm and nearly crawling out of her skin when it rubbed Lexa's thumb firmer against her clit.

"I know, love, I know," she breathed against the fumbled slide of Clarke's kisses, ignoring the burn as her wife dripped down her wrist. "You feel so fucking good. Hold on a few more minutes. Just let me feel you a few more minutes, love, and then you can let go whenever you want to, I promise."

Lexa gave herself over to it, barely breathing as Clarke rocked against her with languid ruts of her hips as she curled her fingers against her front wall. Over, and over, and over. She threaded her fingers through blonde hair and pulled just the way Clarke liked it. Giving the illusion of her control - a hungered look of love and lust - as Lexa held her gaze and ruthlessly fucked her.

And she honestly didn't care about time or their friends or the party they'd spent two weeks planning when the liquid fire around her fingers pulsed and began to tighten.

Clarke gave a pitiful whimper. Bit her lip with a whined, "Please, baby, I want—," and that was all Lexa needed to give in. To nod for her to let go and trust her to catch her when she falls. To cup the back of her neck and pull her close, pressing her wife's mouth to the dip of her shoulder and bury her moans there, as Clarke clenched and spilled in a hot rush around her fingers.

Lexa let her ride out the waves of her orgasm. Guided her down with softened rolls of her thumb. She kissed everything within, peppered her lips along cheek and neck and temple, until her wife collapsed sated and thoroughly pliant in her arms.

In the quietening of their nesting, Lexa stretched her neck just far enough to look at the clock on her nightstand.

"Seven minutes. Three minutes to spare. Suck it."

"Fine," Clarke huffed against the collar of Lexa's shirt where she'd burrowed in to enjoy the afterglow. "So. Not out of practice then... Definitely not... out of practice."

Lexa laughed at her slurred white flag of defeat, but still felt the need to clarify, "Making you come, or making you come quickly?"

"Either. Both. I don't care, I can't feel my legs."

"That good, huh?"

"Don't gloat."

"I'm not gloating," Lexa insisted even as she preened a little inside. "Making you feel good is just second nature at this point. I know how to take care of you, love. Quick or slow... It's like riding a bike."

A finger roughly poked her in the ribs.

"Pfft, a romantic. Stop flirting with me, Woods."

Lexa grazed her thumb over the sensitive tip still within reach and grinned when her wafe gave a full body shudder.

"I don't think I will, actually."

Clarke sucked in a steadying breath and nipped a bite to Lexa's jaw. "You just wait until after bedtime. I'm going to make you regret that, sweetchee—"

The bang of metal against frame cut off the last of Clarke's words as the room suddenly exploded with a garbled,

"Oh sonofabitch."

Lexa felt all the heat disappear off of her in an instant at the spat out swear from above them as Clarke flung herself to the side... and took Lexa's wrist right along with her.

Her hiss and wince of pain as they both struggled to free her from the unyielding shackle of Clarke's jeans did nothing to drown out the enraged sounds coming from the moment-killer stood in their doorway.

"Am I in a goddamn time loop? Why does this keep happening to me?!"

Clarke groaned as she finally yanked Lexa's hand free and flopped angrily onto her back. "Maybe because you still haven't learned to knock before barging into people's bedrooms."

"Oh! Oh! Excuuuuse me," Raven whisper-shouted. "You guys only have a house full of your closest friends and their toddlers downstairs, why didn't I assume you two perverts were in here fucking."

"Shhh," Lexa immediately hissed as she rubbed at the throbbing joints in her wrist despite Raven having mouthed the swear rather than saying it out loud. "We just wanted to take a moment alone, alright? We never get actual time to ourselves, and we figured the kids would be fine with everybody—"

Raven shook her head and held a hand up. "Elgh, stop. Look at yourselves. You abandoned your children to come up here and get your jolly ranchers off."

"I... I think it's just 'get your jollies'..."

"Ah, well, thank you for your contribution, Ms. English Major." Raven grabbed the handle of the door and yanked backward out of the threshold, leaving only a slit big enough for her head to poke through. "Now will you two whores put yourselves back together, please. Some of us are waiting on birthday cake."

With a scathing look and final grunt of disgust, Raven snapped the door shut in her wake.

In the quiet that followed, Lexa let her head slump to the side, catching her wife's gaze as she smiled.

"That was embarrassing."

"Eh." Clarke flopped her hand above her belly. "She's seen us in worse positions."

"True. She's only mad about the cake anyway."

"Yeah, but she'll still never shut about this."

Lexa lifted the hand that had previously been shoved down her wife's pants and offered it up with a toothy grin. "Worth it."

Still flushed and beautifully relaxed from her orgasm, Clarke eyed her for a moment just to make sure she was serious, before laughing and slapping it in a high-five.

"Totally worth it."

[rabbittf2x]

Arg okay so- I recently got a hyperfixation on this 15 year old game, and have been desperately searching around for content like a hungry raccoon. I can not understate my excitement when I found this blog was active, so preemptively, thank u for posting in general 🫶

I would also like to say that I am extremely touch deprived, and usually avoid affection, that is until I’m super tired or drunk. Then I start confessing my love like a poet in a bad historical fiction. Like I just can’t help how in love I am with this person and don’t have the energy to hide it. How would the mercs be with someone like that? If you don’t feel like writing all of them just Sniper, Scout, and Miss Pauling. Thank you so much for ur time ❤️🫶

Ur very welcome!💖 sorry this took so long or if it’s weird😵‍💫 been busy and a bit uninspired🥴💖 pls enjoy!

TouchStarved!Reader confesses to mercs and Miss Pauling

Includes: Scout, Sniper and Miss Pauling

Scout💖

You could tell Scout liked you. To his awkward touching to poor flirting, all the way down to his constant attempts of impressing you (which almost always resulted in him dead). You liked him back, but didn’t know how to tell him. Work always got in the way

One night after taking a shower, you trudged back to your room in your pyjamas. You swung the door open, so ready to sleep when you spotted a certain someone sitting on your bed

“Oh, hey, Scout. So weird! I thought that this was my room!” You gasped sarcastically

Scout laughed nervously, and you smiled back playfully. You crept over and sat next to him on your bed, placing a hand on his shoulder

“What’s up? You have a nightmare again?” You continued to tease

Scout sputtered bashfully, trying to ignore your hand on him. You both liked it though. You loved how warm and toned he felt

“You’re real funny. Ya know that?” He chuckled. “But no. There was something I actually wanted to ask you…”

Your tired eyes slowly blinked, and your hand on Scout’s shoulder slowly slung around his neck. He seemed surprised at your gesture, cheeks growing red

“Me too…” you whispered

He stared at you wide eyed, but you were too sleepy to meet his gaze. Craving his warmness, you moved both of your arms around his neck and inched closer to him

“I know I don’t show it all the time, but I do like you. You’re sweet.” You smiled tiredly

Scout sputtered for his words again, but didn’t get very far. You let out a soft chuckle, inching closer to him

“Really? That was… kinda what I was gonna tell you.” He finally managed to choke out

You grabbed one of Scout’s bandaged hands, and gently placed it on your waist. He quickly got the memo, and immediately wrapped his arms around you. You hummed in content, feeling as if you could fall asleep right there

“Really.”

You pulled Scout into a desperate kiss, cupping his face and not letting him get away for a second. Not that he wanted to… you loved the way his hands slid up your sides, feeling you up before finding their way into your hair

Sniper💖

You and the whole team were celebrating a great win one night at the base. Well, almost the whole team. Sniper was missing, hiding away in his van outside. After sharing a few drinks with the others, you finally mustered up the courage to go retrieve him

You stumbled out of the base, walking towards the old camper van out front. Your fist bashed against the door, hearing an annoyed grunt from behind it

“Sniper…” you called

The Sniper’s footsteps shook the van momentarily until he stopped at the door, swinging it open to find you there smiling

“What do ya want?” He demanded

You swayed slightly from the alcohol, but caught yourself on his van. “Why aren’t you inside? Everyone’s in there having fun!” You asked

Sniper rolled his eyes with a groan, moving to slam the door shut. Before he could, you forcefully pushed it back

“Wait, wait, wait!” You protested

He growled your name, “what?” He spat

“You don’t have to be mean to me. I just… miss you.”

Sniper opened the door fully, making you stumble forward before catching yourself. He looked down at you with a frown, but then sighed

“Fine.” He grunted, turning back into the van but leaving the door open

You scampered in after him, watching him sit back down on his messy bed. You swayed there awkwardly for a second, before moving down to sit on the floor

“Just sit here.” Sniper interrupted, patting the spot next to him once

You quickly obeyed, perching yourself next to him. He stared at you for a few moments, finally noticing how drunk you really were

“Go back inside.” He said

You shook your head. “No, not without you.” You touched his arm, but was quick to recoil back

Sniper’s shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes. “You don’t need me. Go back inside.” He repeated sternly

“But I like you. It’s not the same without you.” You frowned

The dark van was silent as you stared at each other. Sniper sighed again, and planted a hand on your shoulder. You nearly purred in response, inching closer

“I do, you know? I really like you.” You whispered

You gazed lovingly into his eyes, setting a hand on top of his that still sat on your shoulder. Sniper stared back, but with a more surprised look on his face

“Yer drunk… ya know that, right?” He said

You laughed breathlessly, leaning in even closer and setting your other hand on his thigh. “I know what I’m saying.” You purred

Sniper took his hands away and cupped your face with them. He ran his fingers through your hair, and you were practically melting at the touch. He leaned in to press a small kiss to your lips, not letting it linger for too long. Even though you wanted it to last forever…

Miss Pauling💖

Miss Pauling came to visit you and the other mercs at your base. You were pretty tired from working all day, but toughed it out to hang out with her anyway. You knew she liked wine, so you snatched something red from Spy’s smoking room

It was late and all the other mercs had gone to bed. You and Miss Pauling sat at the blackjack table alone, laughing together. You had your chair pressed up against hers just a little too close, but she didn’t seem to mind. You took a sip of your wine as she giggled about something, but you were too tipsy to understand what

You just glanced back at the women, setting your glass down with a smile. She stopped laughing after a bit, meeting your blurry gaze. The dim light above you flickered ever so softly, giving your lonely eyes a dull twinkle

“Miss Pauling…” you whispered

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to get the drunken words out. They didn’t come though, and it all went quiet. You glanced back up at Miss Pauling, noticing that she had been staring at you the whole time

You felt so cold and alone. You craved the girl’s touch as you knew it would be sweet. Instead of speaking up again, you just went in for the kiss. Miss Pauling almost immediately leaned in as well. You couldn’t believe she was so keen to kiss you back. You had no time to tense up or be shocked though. All you could do was melt into it

Miss Pauling placed her hands on your chest, then slid them up to wrap her arms around your neck. You made a happy noise into the kiss, in which she smiled in return. You wasted no time to slip your arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer

You were desperate to kiss her forever, but you had to pull away to catch your breath. You gave her small, gentle kisses as you did so, keeping your arms around her

“Miss Pauling, I…” you breathed, gazing into her green eyes

Miss Pauling blushed and fixed her crooked glasses. “Yeah…?” She smiled shyly

“I kinda like you.”

You felt dumb saying that now. It was quite obvious, how you were practically on top of her. Miss Pauling’s smile widened, and she brought a hand up to stroke some hair from your face. You nearly purred, leaning into her touch happily

“I kinda like you too.” She giggled softly

[skazoo]

slow and blue and endless.

↳ kim taehyung x f!reader

someone stared at you through the window. you had always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. but a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily.

length. 1.7k

genre. angst, yandere

warnings/tags. language, obsessive behavior, implied stalking, yandere themes, mind break, emotional manipulation, love bombing(?), mention of mental illnesses, physical violence, kinda gruesome allusion to murder, dark themes overall, minors advised to dni.

networks. none for this.

notes. [THIS IS A REPOST BC TUMBLR TAGS WON'T WORK AND I ALMOST CRIED<;3]

GAH these photos are so 80s serial killer making a creepy videotape that's gonna get edited in a true crime documentary coded...... i know you're seeing my vision, i KNOW it.... anywayyyyyy this is kinda not proofread, and i wrote it while i was supposed to be studying for my exams a while back!! because when am i inspired if not when i shouldn't be?? i hope you like it and i swear something is almost ready for me to publish please wait a little longer (for my engenes and atiny besties)

⚠️ it goes without saying that i in no way condone any obsessive/stalking/creepy/violent behavior and despite this being "x reader" i'm not in any way romanticizing anything i'm writing. also this, as you all know, is fiction and names are merely a narrating mean. ⚠️

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

in a way you’ve always loved him. he knows. you don’t even have to say it out loud for him to be happy. 

but sometimes it feels like you take him for granted. sometimes you make him really, really angry and that, he can’t let pass. and it's not for his sake but for yours. always everything for you. he has to make you understand that there are things you can’t do if you want to stay safe from the outside world. safe from him, sometimes.

running away is one of those ugly, wretched things you know well he hates, and he slams you against the wall and drags you back through the front door into the house by your hair, he bashes your head on the kitchen counter, near the fire of the stove he’s been preparing lunch with to make you understand a concept you're apparently too dumb to grasp.

“what the fuck did i tell you about running, uh?” seething with undiluted rage .

“i just wanted to go outside, tae. i swear!”

“i said what the fuck did i tell you about running!? do you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?!” his voice booms inside the walls of your head, an endless echo that makes bitter tears gather at the back of your eyes and spill over.

your face is burning. tongues of fire lick at your cheeks, a scorching caress that reminds you of taehyung's. his palm always leaves a brand behind, reminding him and yourself that he’s there. 

your hands scramble for his in a miserable attempt to lessen his hold. “i’m sorry, tae! so sorry, please! please!”

his closed fist in your hair pushes your head closer to the heat. “i’ll fucking kill you if i have to, you know that right–” it’s not a question, merely a promise, but you nod anyway, frantically, desperately– “they’ll never stop finding your body, baby. do you understand?” he screams and shakes you with his hands tight in your hair when you only cry in response.

“i said,” leaning in, mouth brushing over your ear. chills go down your back as his voice turns sickeningly mellow as if he’s whispering sweet nothings instead of threats, “do you understand?”

“yes! yes! god, yes i understand! tae, i’m so sorry! it’s all my fault! it’s all my fault!”

your mindless babbles seem to humor him and he moves your head at a safer distance. “and why is that?”

“ ‘twas my fault! i put myself in danger if i run. tae, please! i’m so sorry!” 

and you cry and cry and cry until you have nothing to give. until there’s only emptiness in your head that’s resting on his shoulder. until his shushes really feel reassuring. until he sits you down at the table to eat the lunch he prepared, the one that was so close to killing you. you nibble on it, too weak to really even taste the flavors.

he breaks the empty silence between you with a question. you startle at the sound of his voice and force your heavy eyes to focus on him.

“aren't you curious? about why i chose you?”

“no.”

he scrunches his eyebrows and regards you with a slightly displeased look that has you shrinking back on your chair. 

“but i want to tell you…” he whines.

you don’t say anything about his antics. despite him behaving like a child you’re terrified of what his reaction would be if you actually treated him like one, so you press your lips together and wait. 

“i like people that like me.” and it’s so simple how he says it. obvious, even.

“but why do you think i like you?” quietly, meekly.

he seems to like the question, his boxy smile one full of teeth that in other circumstances you would have found endearing. now it only makes him look like a predator, an animal, drool dribbling down his fangs, jaw ready to snap close around your neck if —and ultimately, when— you say or do the wrong thing. 

“oh, i was so happy, Y/N,” he coos, your name curling in his mouth with ease, as if you’re always been around each other, as if it belongs there, “that when i chose you, you came with me.”

your mouth gapes open at the absurdity of it all. you wonder if he really thinks that you wanted all of this, that you wanted to be taken from your home. you’d ask your old psychology professor if you’d be correct to label him as a narcissist of sorts. a man with too much power, and free time, and loneliness to exhaust all on himself that he had to go around looking for a scapegoat for his secret misery.  

“i didn’t– i didn’t come to you, taehyung. i didn’t have a choice.”

“so you were almost forced to come?”

“no,” it comes out more as a question than an answer and you lower your head in search of a way to rationalize the conversation at hand, “i was completely forced–”

“that’s what you tell yourself,” he retorts before you can even finish your sentence.

“it’s what i know is true,” you spit somewhat offended by his insinuation.  

his smile is a sick thing when you raise your head from the food on your plate —cold and uninviting. the smell alone makes you want to throw up. 

“are you sure?”

your anger leaves space for an unnerving sense of confusion. “what does that– what?”

your frown deepens as you watch him play around with his lunch. you follow his hands pushing back his glasses on his nose. the sick look of complacency that dances on his face seems to speak words that make the hairs at the back of your neck raise in dreadful anticipation. i know something about you that you don’t, his eyes say, and that alone is enough to make you want to scream.

he knows nothing!, you’d be shouting to the usually calm neighborhood, i haven’t told him anything about myself. he can’t know anything! he knows nothing! he knows nothing! you’d holler to the kids walking home from school hand in hand with their mothers who’d be looking at you with contempt, unaware of who lives among them. a wolf in sheep's clothing that could easily make you look like a psychopath. 

you’d do it, you swear to yourself that you’d do it all if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve got the inkling fear that you’ve truly gone mad. the doubt that crawls on your back and makes its way in your ears, slithering then, with much glee into your delusional brain.

how long have you been in this house? his house or the one you bought together once you finished college? did you meet him on a slow rainy day outside a coffee shop or did you catch him staring at you from the window before he broke in and took you from your bed, leaving behind torn sheets and a broken frame with a picture of your friends? does your mind deceive you? are you sane? is he?

it feels like you've had this exact same conversation with him an infinite number of times, always stuck in a loop of unease and sadness that you really can’t explain. loving looks sent your way melt into scary grimaces sometimes and all you can feel is guilt because that’s tae. your tae. the man you chose, the man that chose you.

you realize your vacant eyes are crying when you feel a thumb swipe your cheek with a gentleness that makes your stomach churn in disgust and again a voice tells you that there’s something wrong with you.

“baby, are you alright?”

the way you look at him does nothing to the sick warmth brewing in his stomach. your shiny little doe eyes peeking up at him from under wet lashes, asking for forgiveness that taehyung would never deny you. nose red from the frustration of being lost in your own mind and mouth parted as if to ask him to show you the way, the truth that you seem to have lost.

he stands up and rounds the table to you for you to bury your head in his chest. sobs shake your tired form.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i swear everything it’s okay. it happens to forget.”

“i’m sorry, tae,” you plead through broken breaths. “i’m so sorry, please.”

he shushes you. lips plant themselves in the crown of your head, a hand rubs at your back soothingly.  

later, in the late evening, you lie in your bed. a bed. the sheets smell of him and the air you breathe does not feel like the one you're used to, but you’re calm. you think you are. maybe.

soft snores sound from behind you and you attempt to turn your head to make sure it’s him. 

“tae?” you let out a whisper. not one that expects itself to be heard.

“yeah?” voice hoarse from sleep.

“nothing.”

he buries his nose in the hair at the nape of your neck, inhaling the shampoo he bought for you. “what?”

“just wanted to make sure you were still here.”

“i’m always here, baby.”

you hum.

minutes pass slowly, like molasses, as if the hand of the seconds inside the alarm on your nightstand is fighting an invisible force, a wall of rubber that threatens to bounce time back. you think he’s fallen back asleep. breath slowing, chest heaving, lulling you to slumber.

you close your eyes. “tae?”

he doesn’t answer. a car alarm sounds from outside the closed curtains, its prolonged blaring bringing a certain agitation in your otherwise silent night. a breath of summer wind leaves bumps on your skin in its wake. you sigh and his arms tighten around your torso. an unconscious gesture, soft, loving.

“i dream of you–” you let your words sink into the air, into the boiling water you carry around in your lungs that doesn’t let you breathe properly, and you shiver again but not from the chill bite of the wind “–and it’s slow, and blue, and endless.”

behind you, taehyung’s mouth stretches into a smile.

in a way, you’ve always loved him. he’s certain of it now as he was before. and even if you didn’t, he will always make sure to make it a reality, one way or the other. wether you want it or not.

taglist: @taevestr @fa1ryjoons @vcutvante

[phr3ia]

I Got Isekai'd Into A World Where I'm Just The Side Character (Wuthering Waves x Fem!Reader) [Chapter 2 : Theories]

[On your way back to Jinzhou...]

The overwhelming situation left you in disbelief, prompting a quiet internal scream as you struggled to process everything. "This is crazy!!!" Doubt crept in as you questioned whether it was all a dream, forcing you to test reality by attempting to pinch your skin. "I think I'm not doing it hard enough!" In a moment of desperation, you dashed towards a nearby tree and forcefully bashed your head against it, causing you to collapse to the ground in a daze.

"AHHHHH!!!" Chixia screamed, taken aback by your sudden action. "Y/N!" Yangyang exclaimed, rushing towards you to assist you in getting back on your feet.

Rover was the last one to catch up to the commotion. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern laced in his voice as he approached you.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Chixia snapped. "Are you trying to kill yourself?!"

Yangyang's calm demeanor attempted to diffuse the tension, "Let's get her to the Capital. Once there, we can get her checked by Mortefi."

"Yes, let's move." Rover agreed, supporting your arm along with Yangyang.

"Shit! Why does everything feel so real? Even the pain!" you silently panicked, glancing back and forth between Rover, Yangyang, and Chixia. "I don't understand! Am I dead? Was I just dreaming the whole time? I can't tell what's real anymore!" Panic filled your thoughts as confusion clouded your mind. "No! I'm 100% sure that I'm just dreaming right now!" you declared firmly. "How do I bring myself back to reality?" you pondered as you began to feel unsettled by the situation.

"That's it!" you loudly exclaimed, a grin spreading across your face.

You shifted your gaze to the surroundings and noticed a pond ahead. Without hesitation, you pulled away from Rover and Yangyang, diving headfirst into the water.

"Wait. I'm not sure if ending my life in this dream would wake me up." Then a sudden realization dawned on you when you remembered what Ryuji did to you.

"I'M DEAD!!!!!" you silently exclaimed in your thoughts as the reality of the situation finally sank in.

"HELP!!!" "I CAN'T SWIM!!!" you screamed, flailing your arms as you struggled to stay afloat.

"Y/N!" Rover exclaimed as he leaped into the pond to rescue you, only to discover that it wasn't even that deep.

Rover sighed as he stood there with his arms crossed, watching you struggle in the water that barely reached your waist. He slowly lowered you down, your feet touching the bottom. His other hand was already gripping the back of your shirt, holding you up just in case. "You're okay." he calmly said with a chuckle.

"There's something wrong with you!!!" Chixia pointed at you, accusing you of being crazy. "We really need to get her checked." Yangyang suggested as she awkwardly smiled at Chixia.

The water was freezing cold, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. This prompted Rover to quickly wrapped his leather jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm. "Let's get going." He stated, his hand resting on your back to guide you out of the pond.

Upon your arrival at the Capital, Rover, Yangyang and Chixia escorted you to the Huaxu Academy. They had already informed Mortefi in advance about your situation. You lay on the examination bed, with Rover standing close by as you both waited for him. While the girls were outside, conversing with Baizhi to inform her about what happened.

"Try to relax." he advised, gently smiling at you.

Just as Rover's expression turned pensive, the door to the examination room swung open, Mortefi striding in. "Ah, Rover." he greeted.

Rover nodded in acknowledgement.

"We've brought her in for an evaluation, Mortefi. Her behavior has been quite peculiar since we found her in the forest." Rover explained.

Mortefi approached the examination table, his hands gripping the edge. His eyes met yours, and he began to inspect you from head to toe. "Let's find out what's going on." He said, giving you a reassuring nod.

"Thank you..." You replied, silently hoping that this man could provide you with answers.

Rover couldn't help but wonder where you came from. He was certain that you were not at the top of the Giant Banyan Tree when they first left the area. Your sudden appearance remained a mystery not only to him, but to everyone as well.

Mortefi's eyes narrowed as he observed you closely, his mind racing with a million thoughts. He could sense that there was something off about you. But he knew better than to jump to conclusions, instead preferring to gather all the necessary information before forming a hypothesis.

"Tell me, do you have any recollection of how you ended up in the forest? Can you remember anything about your past?" Mortefi asked, his tone curious.

You're somewhat giving a similar aura like Rover, but there was something about you that was different. Something 'strange'.

"Is it okay if I tell him everything?" you silently questioned yourself. "What if he doesn't believe me?" After all that happened, you were filled with doubt and had become more cautious about everything. "But this is my only chance..." If there's even a slight possibility that you are still alive, you are determined to seek justice for what those bastards did to you.

As Mortefi watched you, he could sense your mixed emotions. He was surprisingly patient this time, so he waited for you to start your story, never once judging or attempting to prompt you. He understood that some things needed to be said at the right time, and he was more than willing to listen when that time came.

You took a deep breath, your voice trembled slightly as you speak. "There's a lot to tell, but... it's better if I just tell it all, right?"

As you narrate your story , your eyes glazed over, as if you could still see the horrors in your mind. You bit your lip, trying to regain control. Rover gazed at you with so much concern in his eyes. Mortefi listened intently, his expression unreadable. At times, he would jot something down on his notebook or examine you more closely, as if searching for corroboration in your physical condition. "I'll need more time to process this information, but I believe you." He explained, his voice firm yet full of understanding.

Mortefi walked over to a nearby cabinet, retrieving a device that resembled a modern stethoscope. He listened for a moment as he pressed the metal diaphragm to your chest, his eyes widening as if he heard something unexpected. With a furrowed brow, Mortefi removed the device. "This is interesting. I need to run more tests."

"Rover, could you ask Baizhi to do scans and bloodwork for Y/N?"

Rover nodded in agreement, understanding the urgency in Mortefi's voice.

Mortefi's gaze never left yours as he began to walk around the table, making a mental note of your condition.

The pieces slowly fell into place, and he began to form a hypothesis. It was a theory as old as history itself, but recent events in Huanglong had made it more plausible than ever. He couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the possibility of finally having tangible proof to support his theory. It had the potential to change the course of history in Huanglong.

The test results would provide invaluable insight, and Mortefi knew that every second counted. He couldn't afford to let this opportunity slip away.

"I'm not sure if we'll find answers right away, but I'll use all my resources to uncover the truth. In the meantime, you're safe here. No one will harm you while we have you under our care." Mortefi said, giving you a single pat on the shoulder.

Baizhi and Mortefi spent hours conducting examinations on you. But they were surprised to discover that all your results from the Forte Examination came back as an error. You do not have any tacet mark, no Rabelle's Curve, nothing! Indicating that you are not a Resonator. A contradicting result from what Mortefi detected earlier as he sensed a very strong frequency and vibration coming from you, yet the tests gave them an opposite results.

Mortefi suppressed a smirk. "Well, this is a first. Our scans indicate that you are not a Resonator. So, what are you, exactly?" He asked curiously, his mind racing with possibilities.

Mortefi's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind racing to make sense of the seemingly contradictory findings. His intuition told him there was more to you than meets the eye.

He turned to Baizhi, "Baizhi, I've heard rumors of a third category beyond Resonators and Non-Resonators. Have you ever heard of anything like this?"

"Well, yes, there was a theory circulating amongst the ancient texts. Individuals who are neither Resonators nor Non-Resonators, but who possess similar abilities." she replied.

Mortefi's eyes widened in astonishment. The theory, though controversial, was intriguing.

"Y/N, I will not ask you to trust me, but you have no other option. There's a method I want to try, but in order for it to work, I need your cooperation. Are you willing to do this for the sake of finding answers?" He asked, seriousness etched in his voice.

"Like what he said, I have no other choice." you thought to yourself as you sighed, nodding in agreement with him.

After that, Mortefi offered you a few suggestions that would also benefit your current situation. He then instructed you to keep this information confidential, as he wanted the experiment to remain discreet.

Mortefi pulled out a small, black case from one of his drawers. "This is a device called Omnisensor. This will allow me to monitor your physiological and psychological changes in real-time." With gentle hands, Mortefi attached the Omnisensor to your wrist. It was slim and almost unnoticeable.

"I'll keep in touch through the Omnisensor. Make sure to inform me of any unusual occurrences, no matter how insignificant it may seem. Rest assured, I'll leave no stone unturned until we have answers." Mortefi reassured you before he left the room to continue his research.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

End of Chapter 2 🥀...

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[watchingyoufromthestars]

Finally cleaned this up so here’s my DnDads ultimate ship opinions list. I was waiting until after s2 ended to clean this up in case I had any final opinion changes with the last few episodes. Please don’t bash me for any of these. The DnDads fandom is generally very nice but shipping discourse is something that can get heated no matter the fandom.

Dads

Henry Darryl: very neutral. I understand the ship I just never fully got on the boat

Henry Glenn: absolutely fucking feral about them do not get me started on Glennry

Darryl Glenn: feral in a different way that I don’t know how to describe other than toxic yaoi in the way that they’re damaged but refuse to talk about it so they kiss about it instead

Loveeeeeeee polydads but only as Henry/Glenn/Darryl. Not really a Ron shipper I love him and Samantha too much. Ron and Glenn’s friendship is very important to me though

In terms of Jodie, I don’t really ship him with any of the main dads, ESPECIALLY not Glenn. Even if Jimmy didn’t play Jodie I’d still never ship them. Wish Scamster was real and not completely a scam because they’re literally a crackship become real except it was never a crackship before canon. It’s surprising to me that they weren’t really shipped beforehand

Henry Mercedes: THE T4T OF ALL TIME BABEYYYYY. Absolutely iconic couple, fate was in their favor with how they met they were destined for each other

Darryl Carol: After hearing how Darryl talked about his family in Heaven, I was actually really happy they ended up not getting divorced. They clearly had a rough patch as seen in s1, but they genuinely love each other and I love how devoted to her Darryl is. The little finger puppet he made of her in the time out zone… :,)

Glenn Morgan: GLORGAN!!!!!!!!! Oh my god these two tear me apart. I am feral for Glorgan angst there’s too much to work with. More people need to start calling them Glorgan instead of Morglenn please please please please pretty please indulge me in my silly ship name

Ron Samantha: sobbing. They’re so sweet. The distinction that Samantha is also a little silly is very important to me. They love each other so fucking much

Kiddads

Nicky Sparrow: didn’t realize how much I love them for a good while but when I did oh god I love them so so much. T4T it’s so real to me that they’re both trans

Nicky Lark: used to like it but yall mischaracterize Nicky so much in fics. If yall want toxic yaoi just ship Grant and Lark I’m so serious

Nicky Terry: sobs. They were best friends. I don’t personally ship them but the fact that Terry said he was his best friend… that line rattles around in my brain so often

Nicky Grant: recently learned this might get shipped and has THE coolest ship name. Crossfire I love you but for the ship name alone

Sparrow Terry: I think I’ve seen this shipped a few times but only in the context of Terry/Nicky/Sparrow. Not my personal cup of tea though

Sparrow Grant: I don’t see this shipped too often but they have the worst ship name ever /aff. Wtf is a spant lol. Also I’m too much team transfem Sparrow to feel comfortable shipping this

Lark Terry: do not know the appeal of Gun Control but their ship name is fun

Lark Grant: toxic yaoi central. They both need intense therapy but them both being so fucked up is what makes them interesting not that that’s healthy though

Terry Grant: I see them more in a qpr place than anything romantic. I have one fic of them that’s bookmarked on Safari because I think about a part from it from time to time

Don’t have any poly ships for them

In terms of s2 spouses I so desperately wished we could’ve seen more of them. We barely get to see them

Nicky Cassandra: Telling Taylor his dad was a good man and that she misses him every day makes me think they parted on good terms. But then Nicky disappeared because of FBI shit. In another life maybe they could’ve worked.

Sparrow Rebecca: more ugly sobbing. I’m unsure on my sparroace thoughts if they’d end up getting divorced post-finale but I know they’re not fully separating or breaking up. They really are in love but it’s unconventional and messy.

Terry Veronica: I think the reveal that Terry is infertile is a nice touch to their relationship. It sounds weird to say and I feel like I might word this all weirdly. Him being unable to have bio kids but finding love in someone who wants to raise a kid with him anyways. Veronica finding new love again after a supposedly abusive relationship. Both of those combined is something I really love.

Grant Marco: Canon gays ftw. The Titanic episode was so generous in letting us get to see their dynamic. Obviously Grant still has a long way to go in finding self love but I’m so happy he found someone who can support him and loves him back like this.

Teens

Normal Scary: ugly sobbing over them I love them so much. Cradling my madomagi and tma aus with them as madohomu and jmart

Normal Taylor: yearning for the early s2 days like when they went to Sonic and made some devious plan off screen I wish they had more silly interactions together. Was truly fed with the kareoke intro and them bonding over costume making for a minute. Tayloak could be so interesting if there was more material to work with

Normal Link: Childhood BFFs to Lovers; I wish they could’ve hung out more as kids but all that happened

Normal Hermie: I get the hype but I have personal reasons for feeling neutral on them that I wish I could get over. Good soup though /ref

Scary Taylor: see them too much as a sibling dynamic to ever ship them

Scary Link: respect to all y’all shippers but I do not gothcleats and will leave it at that forever. I can only accept the finale with my transfem Link hc

Scary Hermie: I love Scene Partners. These stupid kids and reflecting each other /aff

Taylor Link: one that I can’t believe I didn’t ship sooner they’re so silly

Link Hermie: I think this one is very funny (/pos) but not my personal vibe

Love love LOVEEEEEEEE Marloakworthy AUGH. A giant triangle of everyone paralleling each other

Polywagon I love you; cannot believe you’re real and genuinely canon. This is just Homestuck again when Hussie said all ships are canon (DnDads never beating the Homestuck allegations from me)

Scary Erica: wish there were more interactions I love Erica so much but alas she’s a guest NPC. “You awaken a lightness in me” sapphic ass Scary I know what you are

[inkedtae]

Are we gonna get a rac update 👉👈

please don't hate me 😭 but there will not a rac updated until december, mayhaps november. i have two main biases and one of the has a b-day month coming up sooner than the other so i am speed writing to fill that month up and i have concluded 1 series which now gives me time to focus on others (like rac)

HOWEVER!! i will add a sneak peek (i ensured it was a tad bit lengthy) to the next chapter under the cut to avoid any spoilers. i am so sorry for the long wait. i feel so guilty for leaving you all hanging! i promise i will do my best to write as fast as i can! 🥺💕

“You must be Taehyung!”

You hear Mrs Chu exclaim, eyes widening. What the fuck is he doing up here? You told him you’d be down soon, not even a second ag—

Shit.

A glance at your last message shows it was really sent about twenty minutes ago. You find he initially replied with acknowledgement. Later, perhaps growing concerned from the delay, he warns that if you’re not down in the next sixty seconds, he will be coming up.

Mrs Chu has been trying to meet Taehyung for weeks. You’ve always been able to come up with some sort of excuse, usually revolving around the lack of time. You’re always in a rush and he’s always busy.

“Once he figures his schedule out, I’ll let you know,” you had reassured. You could tell from they way she quirked her brow she wasn’t all that convinced.

With a huff, you grab your clutch, tossing in your lip gloss, keys, phone and wallet, and rush out into the hall.

Taehyung stands in a full black suit, only a silver tie shining between the lap of his coat. He towers over a five foot six Mrs Chu. His hair is slicked back, a sliver cuffed earring pinned to his lobe. He offers her a smile, a gentle nod.

He says something. The deep tone of his voice masks the words from a distance.

She’s practically giggling, though. Her face is a shade pinker and she forces herself to look away.

Is this what you look like? Is this what everyone sees? He towers, you cower, bashful and dazed, inching closer towards him. He calls, you fall, helpless and desperate, playing with the buttons of his shirt.

Is this why no one believes you’re friends?

Taehyung, eyes lazy yet intrigued, lips easy yet curved, draws Mrs Chu’s attention back.

“I see why ____ is so smitten,” she teases.

Your eyes widen. Heat rushes to your cheeks, hands suddenly clammy.

“Mrs Chu,” you call before she can go on any further.

You feel Taehyung’s eyes on you but can’t bring yourself to meet them. You keep your attention on Mrs Chu, making your way towards her.

Slipping between her and Taehyung, you pointedly glance at the couch. “Isn’t Wheel of Fortune on soon?” You ask through gritted teeth.

Mrs Chu rolls her eyes. She leans in towards you, peers up over the rim of her glasses, and mutters,“Subtle.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from groaning and you swear you hear Taehyung stifle a laugh behind you.

She then looks towards him, and smiles. “It was nice meeting you, Taehyung.” Exaggerating her features, she feigns surprise and adds, “I just remembered Wheel of Fortune will be on soon.”

“How is that any less subtle?” you whisper.

Mrs Chu opens her mouth to most likely tell you off when her eyes fall to your waist.

Taehyung wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you back against him. Your breath hitches as you stumble back.

“I would love to continue this subtle conversation, but we really should be going.”

[feralsteddie]

blame @grandwretch for telling me to listen to bad idea right?

Steve cringed at himself, contemplated bashing his own head in on his steering wheel, and got out of the car.

He was still slightly covered in glitter, some of it his, some of it Robin and Chrissy’s.

The two of them were still at the club. Where Steve left them. After getting a literal ‘u up?’ text like Eddie hadn’t watched Chrissy get ready to go out with them in their shared apartment and knew he'd be awake and out until 2 AM at the earliest.

God, when had Steve fallen so low?

He’d blocked Eddie’s number months ago, had even gone on a couple of dates! The last one had been with Levi. Steve liked Levi. Even if he kept making Dead Kennedy’s jokes that Steve didn’t get and kept insisting that Steve would just love The Front Bottoms if he gave them a try.

But he was nice.

A real gentleman.

Didn’t seem to have a whole subscription of issues that meant he was too afraid to use the L Word, or talk about the future, or even really answer any questions about what he wanted out of the relationship besides sex, all while being a completely possessive asshole like Steve already had his last name and a ring on his finger.

… Not that that was pointed or anything.

Anyways.

Point was, Steve had been doing good.

And then Dustin had given him a long speech about how they were all adults (Steve refused to believe the kids were adults, they would be kids until he was in the ground and half-rotted) and the weird tension between Steve and Eddie was making it very difficult to plan events if they were always having to take into consideration Robin’s Steve’s no contact rule.

So, Steve had unblocked him. Hadn’t made any move to text him though, just had a couple of stilted phone calls while coordinating who was giving who a ride to Nancy, Jon, and Argyle’s anniversary party.

But apparently Steve’s luck had run out. Some time between getting to the club, Chrissy posting a bunch of half-blurry videos of them dancing, and Steve getting very up close and personal with some guy who had tattoos up to his neck and biceps bigger than his, the universe had decided to tempt Steve.

He’d only seen the text when he’d broken off for a bathroom break, and despite the chorus of drunk girls he knew he would have had if he’d opened his mouth and said the magical words ‘Should I call my ex?’ his fingers had already made the decision for him.

Five minutes later he was telling the girls he had a headache, and that they should keep enjoying themselves.

Robin was going to kill him.

But that was a Tomorrow Steve issue.

He was already climbing the stairs- taking them two at a time even like the desperate bastard he was- and knocking before common sense could kick in and tell him to actually go home and sleep.

He was barely pulling his fist away when the door swung open, and god.

Eddie leaned against the doorframe, stretching his arm up as he smirked at Steve. Fucking shirtless and in sweatpants like the fuckboy he swore he wasn’t, and Steve’s thoughts were just static.

Did Eddie have to be so fucking hot?

It was truly annoying, like Steve was pretty sure he’d have been able to get over the asshole if he didn’t look like that. It was a travesty about his personality though.

“Damn, baby. You get dolled up all for me?” He was looking at Steve like he was a piece of meat he couldn’t wait to dig his teeth into.

Steve rolled his eyes and shoved his way into the apartment, “Actually it was for whoever I was going to bring home from the club, but you knew that already.” He snarked, looking around the living room like he hadn’t been there to help Chrissy and Eddie move in.

The door slammed behind him, making him jump a little, and jump again when he felt hands slip under his fuzzy blue sweater.

Eddie was a line of heat against his back, his long, thick fingers trailing up his sides and over his stomach, stopping to dig into the thick of his hips.

“But you’re not with any of those guys, are you?” He was halfway growling, like he had any say in what Steve did anymore. Possessive bastard.

Steve tilted his head back, resting it against Eddie’s shoulder while he placed little kisses up and down the offered skin.

No, I’m not. He wanted to say. Or maybe I don’t want them. Or even I wouldn’t have to settle for them if you had just loved me.

He didn’t say any of those, because they were too real for what was happening and Eddie would get spooked again and Steve was already there and thinking about Eddie’s dick, so.

“There’s time for that to change.” He settled on instead, curling his lip with all the bitchiness he could muster.

He felt teeth latch onto the side of his neck briefly, Eddie biting down hard enough in those couple seconds he knew it’d be a pretty bruise come morning, “Don’t be like that,” He sounded almost pained when he said it, and Steve had to clench his jaw, “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be.”

“God, do you ever shut up.” Steve turned in his arms and grabbed either side of Eddie’s face, pulling him into a kiss. Fuck, Steve missed kissing Eddie. Missed how soft his lips were, the curl of them like he couldn’t help the smile, the way he gentled it, slowed Steve down even when he wanted the frantic and messy, so he didn’t let himself think of it as romantic.

Steve pulled away slightly, “Bed. I gotta be in my own before Robin gets home.”

Eddie reattached their mouths, walking Steve backwards, down the hall and to his bedroom that still smelled like weed and the patchouli incense he always swore were fooling his landlord. “Don’t worry about them.” Steve felt his knees hit the side of the bed, and Eddie pulled his sweater and shirt off as he fell back onto the mattress.

“Yeah, you say that until Chris and Rob string us both up-”

“No, I mean her and Chris are heading over to Vickie and Eden’s.”

Steve paused, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his shorts, “… Did you plan this?” He kind of wanted to kick the stupid grin off of his face, and the urge only increased when he snorted.

“She texted me just before you got here, they ran into each other after you left.” Steve ignored the brief bout of disappointment in his stomach, covered it with an eye roll as he finished shoving the rest of his clothes off.

Obviously, it hadn’t been planned. He was booty called with the most obvious line in the history of texting, and he was probably just the first person desperate enough to take him up-

His thoughts were cut off by a hand grabbing his face, fingers and thumb pressing into his cheeks and pulling him into another kiss, “But I’m gunna count myself lucky I get to take my time with you now, sweetheart.”

Steve felt his chest crack a little, and he was so fucking stupid, it was such a bad idea, a colossal bad idea, he was going to make Dustin invent a time machine so he could go back and break his phone and tell him it wasn’t worth his stupid heart again.

Then Eddie was kissing him again, slow and deep and enough to scramble Steve’s thoughts because rule of thumb was Steve and Eddie were never not kissing when they were together and it was still his favorite thing in the world.

His face was released so Eddie could keep touching him, the calluses on the tips of his fingers scraping down his neck, over his chest and waist and hips until Eddie could grab a handful of his thigh and-

Fuck it, it’s fine.

[rodolfoparras]

Just thought of this, too lazy to make a fic so why not send it to a price lover??

Kissing Old man!Price so close to his lips but not quite.

As am older man reaching his 50s, over his prime to get a partner, he's resigned to just strictly work.. until reader comes in. Strictly professionally at first, but then, he gets a papercut looking over some information.

Nothing serious, so he cleans it and slaps a bandaid on.

The next morning at mess hall, reader sees it. The interaction goes similar to this:

Reader: "hurt yourself, cap?"

Price: "oh, no, jus' a papercut. No worries sergeant."

Reader: "awh, want me to kiss it better?"

Price: "..sure. go right ahead."

Reader slowly took his hand in his, lifting it up to his lips and giving it a sweet kiss before lifting it down.

Reader: "all good?"

Price: at an absolute loss for words "I..."

Reader: finger guns "catch ya later, cap'n."

He didn't actually think you were serious. But.. it felt great. God who was he kidding, it was amazing. Later that day, he pulled soap to the side.

Price: "Soap."

Soap: "ya cap?"

This was so ridiculous. There's no way you'll kiss him again.

Price: deep sigh "I need you to punch me in the mouth."

Soap blinked, utterly confused.

Price: "please soap, just do this for me."

Soap swallowed dryly.

Soap: "well.. if you insist."

Later he walked to you as you were making a cuppa, seeing an injured price. You looked at him for a solid second in surprise, scanning over his forming bruises on his lip.

Price: "need you to kiss it better, sergeant. If you don't mind."

He tried to say with authority, but all he sounded like was a bashful teenager. You smiled, chuckling slightly. You put a hand to his cheek, coarse beard hairs under your fingers and palm. You pulled him closer, your hand navigating to the back of his head and luring him in with your hypnotizing eyes and sweet smile. But however.. you didn't kiss him on his lips. No, just on the bruises, a hair away from his lips.

It drove him mad.

All week after that, he kept finding ways hurt himself on the mouth, never quite getting on his lips. He groaned in frustration, your kisses never hitting the correct spot. It was too much. He couldn't wait, and he also couldn't keep paying soap to punch him in the face. It started to hurt, and not only his bank account.

He had gotten the idea just to ask. It was too insanity inducing to wait for you to kiss him correctly. He had to take matters into his own hands.

One day, he requested you in his office.

Reader: "yes, sir?"

Price: "shut the door behind you sergeant."

You complied.

Reader: "what's going on? More information?"

Price took a deep breath, trying to soothe his thumping heart. It would be better to just get to the point, trying to ignore the hotness on his cheeks. You smirked, watching his face dust with a pretty light pink.

Reader: "cap, I think I know what you need."

You walked around the desk, leaning your face into his.

Reader: "you've got an aching for me, don't you cap? I bet I can make it all better..."

You whispered, taking your hand behind to feel his hair on the back of his head. It was soft like cat's fur. Price pulled you in, your lips locking together. It quickly became heated in the room, both of your faces reciving the heat from the other's soft breath. Your hand tugged at his beard, the kiss becoming more and more desperate. You both pulled away after about a minute, price whining.

(This next part is NSFW so I wanted to warn you ‼️)

Price: "(reader)..."

Reader: "yes cap?"

Price unbuckled his belt, his pants sagging ever so slightly in his chair.

Price: "I've got an aching down 'ere."

You smiled devilishly, your eyes becoming hungry as your strict and professional captain became weak at just your lips locking with his.

Reader: "want me to kiss it better?"

Price: "please."

Reader: "yes sir."

- 🎻 anon

SUGAR BEE I AM SCREAMINF

old man price who hates when someone dots on him turning into an absolute softey whenever you check on him going from subtly waiting for you to ask him if he’s okay to straight up complaining to you about his recent injure and sure it makes him sound like a whiny kid and he’s way to be old to be acting in such way but if it gets your attention then does it really matter? Price who huffs and puffs whenever you miss out on the fact that he’s hurt goes quiet all day and you’re confused as ever until you ask him about his recent injury and he absolutely lights up silently laughing at how he brags that he didn’t bother to patch himself up ALSO THE LASY PAERT HELLO?:?; I WILL KISS WHEECR HE WANTS ME TO KISS

[muraseclinic]

please just break me. beat me until i'm vomiting blood, cut me and make me cut myself, slit my wrists and drain my life away, bash my ugly fucking face in and shatter my skull - do whatever you please with me, as long as you make sure i'm never happy again. that for as long as you allow me to live i can never forget again how pathetic and unlovable and undeserving of life i am. tell me all about how worthless and unusable i am, how pretty real girls are and how badly i need to die for what i am. how i'll never be like them no matter what i do, how disgusting i am and always will be. crack my skull open if that's what it takes to make me understand that i'm only getting what i deserve for being this, that you're doing me and the rest of the world a favor by taking care of such a burden. nothing more than a blight on an otherwise beautiful world, one that just needs to be destroyed for the sake of everyone else. make me hopeless, show me that there's no point in trying to get better or live a good life, because there's no such thing as a good life for things like me. make me utterly repusled by the idea of myself happy. and when i finally get it through my skull how badly i deserve to die, how it's the only thing left for me, dangle it in front of me for your entertainment. force me to live in constant misery and torture, beating me just to the edge of release from all the pain i've felt and caused over my pathetic life, just to yank me back up out of the pit i've waited so long to finally hit the bottom of. laugh at the notion that i could ever deserve a life or a death. i could only ever be useful to anyone as a worthless little object to break and cut and kick and crack and stab and crush and bleed out. no love. why would i be loved? i'm so much less than a person anyway

.. oh wow !!✨≽^•༚• ྀི≼ this anon sure is desperate !

but i'd loveeeee to break you . beat you and fuck you because that's all you're good for !! anon thinks it's a real girl? no „ you’re not even a person ^^ the only thing you are is an object for my amusement „ something for me to play with and make cry when i want to.

i’d do whatever i want with you ,, destroy you because it’s what you deserve for being such a burden on the rest of society by simply being alive. i’d make you mutilate yourself for me ,, use your dirty body for my own needs ,, make you swallow blades or use you as my ashtray ~ ᥫ᭡

nobody could ever love a filthy ,, pathetic creature like you anyways.

you're worthless ,, something to be beaten and burned and broken. try and let others fool you all you want ,, we both know you’re a disgusting toy - you’ll never be good enough ,, you don’t deserve to be happy ,, and you don’t deserve to live .. but that doesn’t mean i’ll let you die <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>

i’ll strip away every last semblance of dignity you have left until you’re begging me to kill you ,, and then i’ll laugh in your face and leave you to rot ,, alive ,, because the only thing that you deserve is a life of me dangling death over your head like a carrot to a pig.

[ also if any one of you have dm’d me and i havent responded, be patient for me, kay? ( • ̀ω•́ )✧ ,, asks are open !! ]