#i fall deeper and deeper in love with this story the longer i live

[smiling-stel]

Tcf novel spoilers o7

Im all for Caleism my fandom friends, and also cooing or face-palming over how altruistic Cale's actions are

But thats the difference

◇ His [actions] end up being altruistic - that's an undeniable fact - but Cale, himself, isn't

And we know this from all his internal dialouge since the narrative is 98% from his perspective

Multiple times over does he advocate for survival above all, emphasizing this msg especially towards the children

His entire mentality is this. He would rather the crew Fail than ever get to the point of no return to succeed in whatever they're working toward atp

"Because you can always strike again as long as you're still alive" ~im paraphrasing from later chapters of Book 1 (i think this msg was directly said once Cale's backstory was touched into more)

The majority of the time, Cale's "acts of altruism" are him, not being fully aware of the consequences of using his ancient powers.

Either from miscalculation (ex. Second time he used Fire of Destruction after fortification + first time he uses Sky Eating Water in ch. 295) or from complete oversight, being caught up in the moment (ex. first time he uses Fire of Destruction in the elven kingdom)

◇ Sure, it all resulted in Cale coughing up blood or fainting after an Act that benefits someone other than him, but his intention was never "ill die for this cause" so therefore Cale cannot be called an altruist

♤ but ofc that doesn't mean his actions aren't altruistic

Because as always, there's a fine line between what someone [intends to happen] and [what does happen]- which also isn't helped by the fact Cale doesnt ever explain himself ((which, like valid sometimes- but dam communicate with ur found family please TToTT))

-

Anyways I just wanted to make a post saying this cause I've noticed a trend in the fandom babying or cursing Cale for being overly Altruistic 》》 playing with this borderline mischaracterization (which is fair cause its Hella entertaining, I get it) but practically simplifying a large part of Cale's character to JUST being a hopeless altruist,,

So I wanted to just get this out there that Cale isn't an altruist, but dam do his actions result in altruism.

Tldr; Cale's a begrudging altruist- an altruist only by the perceived situation, not the definition

-

But thats why his story and character are so beloved - at least for me that's why I like him as a character so much. This is one of my favorite stories, if not my number 1.

The misconceptions cause by Cale's actions seemingly being selfless, but then the complete opposite internal dialouge is so gold every time

☆ I really adore how Trash of the Count's Family is written with him as a biased narrator, but still showing glimpses of the other character's minds as well as the perceived opinion of the masses within that world. - which, i guess is the definition of Unreliable Narrator, but compared to ORV with Kim Dokja or Shen Yuan in SVSSS (ik, horrendous line up of stories, im cringing w myself too orz) it feels like Cale doesnt gaslight or fool the readers NEARLY as much--

Its 1st person POV like the other two stories mentioned, but its also more 3rd person restricted POV than ORV or SVSSS(?) Perhaps this is me going insane after staring at words on a screen for the majority of the day today, but TCF feels less of a biased perspective(?) If that makes sense..

[Edited thx to @/ghocty's comment <3!]

TCF is 3rd person while ORV is 1st person (tho ORV has its own nuances due to worldbuilding but we won't get into that rn) meaning we can see more of the other characters thoughts n other scenes we otherwise shouldn't know ab if it were 1st/2nd/or even 3rd person limited narration (because Cale isn't aware of some scenes, but we the readers know thx to the 3rd person omniscient narration)

However both TCF and SVSSS are 3rd person omni (unless I'm wrong again, to which, just shoot--- I mean plz allow me to correct myself again), but TCF, in my opinion, has waaaaaaay less bent or twisted truths from the narration than SVSSS (because Shen Yuan is legit a freak, we all been knowing)

♡ Its just how each story is written/how the characters interact w each other//the differences between the Genre of the stories bc SVSSS is mostly focused on the main pair's romance, so ofc the narration would be narrower than TCF which is around Cale's life, who he is as a person, and why it leads to him alw getting more work to do

Cale's POV doesnt feel like it warps the exposition it as much compared to Dokja or Yuan anyway-

This is reminding me of that one pic of the triangle titled "unreliable narrators" with Dokja as a liar, someone else as delusional, and Cale as oblivious - cause yea,, accurate.

[mariasont]

Can I request Hotch finding gender neutral reader asleep but they legit fell asleep to a true crime serial killer podcast- or they’re like obsessed with a new serial killer show (me with Hannibal rn 😮‍💨) thanks!!! Have a good day!!! <3

Late Night Podcast - A.H

a/n: omg i love love love this idea <3 thank you for sharing your idea with me i hope i did it justice! and i hope YOU have the best day 🕊️✨

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, hotch and reader being just so cute, bau!reader, reader and hotch are both simps

wc: 0.7k

Hotch's meeting dragged on, each minute stretched longer than the last tangled in bureaucratic red tape, and suits who really couldn't give a damn whether the BAU lived or died. It was all incredibly migraine-inducing, and he couldn't wait to go home and take you to bed.

He knew all too well that you'd be in his office, a realization that came with a twinge of regret. Not because your presence was unwelcome, but because your selfless nature meant you tended to put his needs before your own. You'd insist the after hours peace and quiet was perfect for catching up on paperwork.

He was very aware that was all a lie, you never needed to catch up on paperwork; he knew your work was always meticulously complete. He recognized your true motive; ensuring he got home at a decent time. And it usually worked everytime. The sight of you, patiently waiting, was the sweetest incentive to end his day.

"In this episode, we recount the tragic and violent story of Aileen Wuornos, a woman who turned from victim to perpetrator, ultimately becoming America's most infamous serial killer with seven murders to her name."

He stopped short in the doorframe, his eyes sweeping over the unexpected stillness of his office. There you were, draped across the couch in a tangle of limbs, one arm flung above your head while the other wrapped around your torso. The hem of your shirt had lifted just enough to reveal the softness of your belly. The rest and fall of your chest was the only movement, fast sleep.

You fell asleep to a seriel killer podcast.

He fought back a laugh, the sound caught in his throat as he laid the remainder of his work aside. You looked so peaceful, despite the macabre background that seemed to bounce off the walls. He paused your phone, knowing you'd hate to wake up and lose your place.

He smoothed your hair back, his rough hand lingering in the softness. The battle against his smile was lost; it warmed his entire face. He didn't want to wake you.

"Aaron?" Your voice was so sleepy, rough and cracked, but perfect all the same.

He wondered how long you had been asleep for.

"Hi, sleepy head."

Your eyes opened briefly, a couple of deliberate blinks as you nestled into a new position, curled on your side with hands tucked under your face. A smile, that you tried to hide, melted across your face as you quickly snapped those beautiful eyes of yours shut.

"Shh, can't hear you, sleeping," you mumbled under your breath, your nose wrinkling slightly as your struggled to keep a straight face.

A soft laugh broke through as he rubbed his face. "Well, this is the first time I've heard someone sleep-talk so clearly."

You said nothing, just the slight twitch in your lips as you pressed deeper into the couch.

"I'll take that as a yes to my carrying you out to the car then."

Before you could even muster a reaction, he scooped you up, your legs swept up in a fluid motion as you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder. Your breath hitched into a gasp, quickly transforming into laughter as you slapped your hands to his back.

"Aaron!" The word was muffled by the sound of his shirt as he started to march towards the door. "Put me down!"

"A lot of talk coming from someone who is supposedly sleeping."

His hand ground your ass, eliciting a burst of giggles from you as your hands roamed the expanse of his shoulders, legs dangling in front of him.

"Will you at least grab my phone? I need to finish that podcast on the way home."

A quick spin set your hair a flutter as he leaned down to grab your device from the table.

As he moved for the door, your hand found its way to his hair, mussing it fondly. "Thanks, handsome."

He finally let you down, hand entwining with yours. "Well finish the podcast together, but no more serial killer stories before bed."

regular taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash

[frostdayz]

Bed

Loki x reader

genre: Fluff

summary: You and loki tangled in each others arms and words while laying in bed.

note: Such a shit summary but this is just something small and loki themed because I recently read a long ass fic on ao3 that was a 10/10

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I blinked my eyes open, slowly adjusting to the brightness. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but then I felt it—the warmth, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath my cheek. I was curled up against Loki, our legs tangled together under the blankets.

I smiled to myself, savoring the rare moment of peace. Loki wasn’t exactly a morning person, and I had a feeling he was still asleep. Gently, I lifted my head to get a better look at him. His dark hair was tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead, and his face was relaxed, almost boyish in its softness. It was a side of him that few ever got to see.

Unable to resist, I reached up and brushed the stray hair away from his face. My fingers lingered, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. He stirred slightly, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Mm, what are you doing?” His voice was thick with sleep, and I couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it sounded.

“Just admiring the view,” I teased, resting my hand on his chest.

He opened one eye, peering at me with a mixture of amusement and mock annoyance. “You’re awfully chipper this morning,” he remarked, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Maybe it’s because I woke up next to you,” I replied, unable to keep the affection out of my voice.

Loki’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I let out a contented sigh, snuggling against him. “We should do this more often. Just…stay in bed, with no worries, no responsibilities. Just us.”

He hummed in agreement, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on my back. “That sounds like a perfect way to spend the day,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “But you know as well as I do that our lives are rarely that simple.”

I pouted, though I knew he was right. “Can’t we pretend, just for a little while?”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “For you, my love, I’ll pretend all day if you wish.”

I grinned, my heart swelling with warmth at his words. “Then let’s stay here forever,” I declared, burrowing deeper into his embrace.

Loki tightened his hold on me, resting his chin on top of my head. “As you wish,” he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat.

We lay there in comfortable silence, the world outside our little cocoon of warmth and love feeling miles away. It was a rare and precious moment, one that I wanted to hold onto for as long as I could. In Loki’s arms, everything felt right. The worries and challenges of the world could wait. For now, all that mattered was this—just him and me, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet beauty of the morning.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words flowing from my heart without hesitation.

He tilted my chin up, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice soft but unwavering.

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things words could never fully express—a promise, a reassurance, a shared truth. When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us.

“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” I murmured.

“Forever,” he agreed.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Broken Bonds

Fictober Day 1

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: the hardest part appeared to be keeping the word count under 1K and with this I miserably failed (as with some other stories too) but as much as I tried I can't find a way to cut it down so we are starting this fictober with almost a full fledged fic

Warnings: angst, betrayal, reconciliation sex, SMUT 18+

Word Count: 1,8 K

Please remember that comments and reblogs keep us writers motivated.

“Yield to me,” Sihtric demands, the tip of his sword inches from Uhtred’s throat.

Your eyes lock onto Finan and Osferth, hand gripping the hilt of your sword, yet neither of you moves. He was once a friend, a brother, even something more to some of you. Now he’s a traitor. But no one dares to draw their sword to confront him—everyone’s gaze shifting to Uhtred.

The silence is suffocating, as if the very air has thickened into water. Each breath is a struggle. Anger and resentment churn within you, like a storm waiting to break, coiling tighter around your heart like a venomous snake until it threatens to stop beating altogether.

Uhtred’s sword pokes the ground, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. They embrace. 

You see Osferth's eyes light up, a flicker of realisation crossing his face. He’s the first to shout, “They played us! Finan, they played us!”

His words echo in your ears as you notice the smile spreading across Finan’s lips. A ripple of excitement stirs among the men, their hushed murmurs swelling into a cheer. For them, the world has just snapped back into place, the chaos neatly resolved. But for you? For you, the real chaos has just begun.

Uhtred continues to press Sihtric with questions about the camp and the Danes. Though Sihtric responds, his gaze drifts across the gathered men, as if searching for someone. You can't bear it any longer. You need to get away. But just as you’re about to turn, your eyes lock with his.

A hesitant smile tugs at his lips as he watches you. Is it pride for a job well done that makes his eyes shine? Doesn’t he understand what he’s done? He’s broken it—shattered it, as fragile as it was—your friendship, your trust, your love.

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes. You can’t let him see them. Before the first one falls, you turn and run, as if a wild beast is on your heels. You push forward, deeper into the woods, until the dizziness rising in your chest forces you to stop.

Your back slams against the rough bark of a tree, your breaths ragged. Gripping the hilt of your dagger, you pull it free and press it tightly to your chest, your heart pounding beneath it. You don’t need to look. You already know whose hurried footsteps are closing in on your hiding place.

You wait, the careful shuffle of footsteps mixing with the thunder of your racing heartbeat, both echoing in your ears. You close your eyes for just a moment, and when they reopen, you find yourself staring into two deep pools of blue and brown. Without thinking, your arm shoots out, pressing the dagger against Sihtric’s throat.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even try to avoid it.

“Do it,” he whispers, his breath forming small clouds of mist in the crisp morning air, hovering between you like a fragile veil. “I know I deserve it.”

“Traitor,” you hiss through clenched teeth, your voice cold enough to make him wince.

“Do it,” he repeats, his voice growing louder, more desperate. “I’d rather die by your hand than live another moment with that cold emptiness in your eyes.”

You stand there, weapon in hand, trembling. His words pierce through the walls of anger you’ve built around your heart, the resolve you thought was unshakable now beginning to crack. His eyes, once filled with pride and defiance, now plead for release, for something more than this unbearable silence between you.

Your grip tightens on the hilt, your knuckles white, pressing the blade harder against his skin. A small cut forms, and a few drops of blood slide down the blade, like crimson tears but the weight of the blade feels heavier than ever. 

You want to hate him. You want to believe that the cold fury in your chest will give you the strength to strike. But his broken voice, the rawness in his plea, has chipped away at the resolve you clung to so fiercely.

“You think it’s that simple?” you whisper, voice trembling, not with anger but with something far more dangerous—pain. “You think death will absolve you of everything? You’re still a traitor, Sihtric. To me, you’ll always be a traitor. You left me, without a word, without anything. You betrayed my trust, my loyalty, my lo...,” your voice trails off.

He says nothing, his gaze locked on yours, waiting. His chest rises and falls with heavy, shallow breaths, but the anguish in his eyes only deepens. The fire of defiance that had once sparked between you is now replaced by a painful understanding—an understanding that neither of you can outrun the choices that brought you to this moment.

The blade lowers, your arm trembling from the effort of holding it aloft. You can’t do it. The anger dissipates, leaving only a hollow ache in its place.

“I hate you for what you did,” you say, voice barely a whisper, your words a confession more than an accusation. “But I can’t hate you enough to kill you.”

Sihtric’s eyes flicker with something—relief, guilt, perhaps even hope—but he remains still, waiting for your next move. You take a shaky step back, releasing the blade from your grip. It falls to the ground with a dull thud, a weight lifted from your hands but not from your heart.

Sihtric moves toward you, cautiously, as if fearing you might change your mind. His hands reach out but stop short of touching you. His breath is still ragged, and you can see the struggle in his face as he searches for the right words. But there are none. Not now.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to earn your forgiveness,” he finally says, his voice hoarse. “If you’ll let me.”

You don’t respond. Not with words. Instead, you close the distance between you, leaning your forehead against his chest, letting yourself feel the warmth of his body, the rhythm of his heart against yours. 

His rough, calloused fingers cup your jaw, and before you can protest, his lips crash against yours. The whimper you’ve been holding back escapes, muffled by the force of his kiss. It’s a kiss filled with anger, desperation, and regret—a kiss that takes rather than asks. 

Your hands find their way into his thick, curly hair, fingers tangling in the strands. Your nails scrape against his scalp as you tug hard, wanting to hurt him, wanting him to feel even a fraction of the pain he’s caused you. Sihtric groans into your mouth, his kiss raw, demanding, laced with unspoken apologies.

In a swift, rough motion, he spins you around, pressing you hard against the coarse bark of the tree. The wood bites into your skin, but you barely register the discomfort, your senses overloaded by the heat of his body and the fevered trail of kisses he leaves along your neck. His breath comes in ragged pants, brushing hot against your ear as his fingers fumble with the laces of your breeches, his frustration palpable.

“There hasn’t been a single night I didn’t dream of you,” he hisses into your ear, his voice thick with longing and regret.

Before you can respond, your breeches are yanked down in one swift motion. The cold air stings your exposed skin as Sihtric’s hand slips between your thighs, his fingers finding your wetness with a practised ease. A gasp escapes your lips when his fingertips brush against your pearl, sending an electric shock through your body. The fury that coils within you clashes with the desire that sparks to life under his touch.

“Sihtric,” you breathe, a warning and a plea all in one.

“I need you,” he rasps, his body pressing firmly against yours, his desire undeniable. “Just as I know you need me.” The sound of his belt unbuckling cuts through the stillness of the morning, sharp and ominous. Anger still simmers in your chest, the betrayal still fresh, but your body betrays you, responding to him in ways you can’t control.

Despite the rage that still burns beneath your skin, a moan escapes you, involuntary, as you instinctively push back against him the moment you feel the hard length of him pressing at your entrance. 

He groans, the sound low and guttural, and then he’s inside you, thrusting hard and without warning. His grip on your hips is bruising, fingers digging into your flesh as he sets a brutal, unrelenting pace. Each thrust stretches you in a way that only he can, a mixture of pleasure and pain that blurs the line between anger and desire.

His fingers find your pearl again, brushing against it in a way that makes your breath hitch, your body betraying you once more. You’re torn between the fury still simmering in your chest and the raw, undeniable need that pulses between your thighs.

“You are everything to me and I'll never lie to you again,” he pants into your ear, his voice breaking, his thrusts growing more erratic, more desperate. His hips slam into you fiercely, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the cold morning air. The flames of anger and hurt that once consumed you begin to flicker out, dimming in the face of the growing hum of desire coursing through your veins.

Your anger falters, slipping away as you release it with a loud moan, Sihtric’s name falling from your lips, soft and breathless, carried away by the cold morning air. 

“I’ll keep pleading for your forgiveness, as long and as often as it takes, until you’re ready to grant it—until you trust me again,” he begs, his voice tight with strain, growing more desperate with each word.

“Please… forgive me,” his breath, ragged and uneven, fans hot against your neck as he shudders, strangled moans roll over his lips as he spills his seed deep inside you.

For a moment, the world stands still, the heat of his body pressed against yours. He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against the back of your neck, his breath slowly evening out. You feel the trembling in his limbs, the way his body still clings to yours as if afraid to let go.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispers, the vulnerability in his voice so raw it makes your chest ache. “But I did... and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

You close your eyes, trying to make sense of the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you. The anger isn’t gone, not completely, but it’s softened by the realisation that he’s just as broken as you are. And in that moment, you realise that forgiveness isn’t something you can give freely—it’s something you both have to earn.

With a shaky breath, you turn around to face him, your hands resting gently on his chest. His eyes meet yours, and you see the guilt, the sorrow, the regret etched into his features. There’s no denying the pain he’s caused, but there’s also no denying the depth of his remorse.

“I’m not sure I can forgive you,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “Not yet.”

Sihtric’s gaze drops to the ground, but you lift his chin gently, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“But I’m willing to try,” you add softly, the weight of those words hanging between you.

A flicker of hope passes through his eyes, and though it’s fragile, it’s enough.

[l0vesecretsociety]

PATHS

“I hope our paths cross again.”

tags: ekko x fem! reader, angst, closure. warnings: none. art, not mine.

You never imagined, for all the moments you’ve spent together, and the years you’ve ‘wasted,’ this fleeting youthful love between you and Ekko has ended. There wasn't an end credits that rolled to your story, only that soft hum you used to hear from him. Silly you, unprepared and wounded, clenched into a fetal position. You savor your tears for tonight, and tomorrow will come where you will no longer walk the same path as his—no longer wake up on the same side of the bed because you took over his. His space was void and empty, so you fill it with your body still trying to cling to the scent he left. But every time you do, his shadow fades away and you think, no, know, he will soon drift into another’s arms. Your tears stained the sheets of his pillows, or what was once his. And you scream for days on end. Your friends try to pull you from the cliff you fell from, to cheer you up and they tell you, “You’ll meet others,” but how can she? When all Ekko had done was be good to you, provide for you, care for you in ways you thought was irreplaceable. You’re a mess and you can’t help it, that’s why he was there. To clean you up and love you even though… you’re different.

“I think we should end this.” You could still hear his voice like it was yesterday, even though a few years had already passed by. You froze like a deer on headlights, you see the light but you don’t move. You wait for it to crash onto you and kill you. “I’ve got a thing going on with the firelights now, and… I, I can’t have you there anymore.” But it doesn’t and you live to see another day. He left you bleeding, like a wounded soldier, a cut that runs deeper than it looks. Questions inside your head were not doubt, but a question of loss. Where were the signs?

You try to piece the puzzle of his mind, but in the years to come, you give up attempting to find the answer. You both were young, and sure, it was a heartbreak but you’ve learned a lot. You keep him in your heart, because you promised that you would. You reminisce at the memories you shared, the anger that boiled your blood leaving your body and soul, the butterflies every time he kissed you softly now flew away, leaving your stomach empty. And that one time he built a little stargazing hideaway for you, just for it to run down with cobwebs and overgrown with earth returning. The futures you both wrote together now feel ghost stories you remember like a memoir for the people that never existed.

Even as a war passed through Piltover like a storm, a thousand deaths, and a thousand more griefs. As the city rebuilds itself, you do too. You’ve got an amazing job! After the mess he left you in, it took awhile… but you did your best to pick yourself up and bandage the wounds and you’re doing so well.

The bridge that used to separate Piltover and Zaun, now collectively crowded and busier than before. You find yourself browsing the fresh produce, hearing the bustling vendors to come by at their shops. Street food never smelt so savory and the sun shined brighter than before. Everything has changed, but the bridge remained. You’ve changed too. With your hair longer than the awful cut you had before and your fashion fancier, something you’ve always been proud to afford.

You were in through the fruits, looking to satiate your sweet tooth. A peach would do, you might make tea out of it later. Just as soon as your fingers touch a piece of that peach—the one below it rolls down the mountain, almost falling. Luckily for you, there lay a hand that caught it quickly. You look up preparing yourself to thank the person.

“...Ekko?” You say in complete disbelief. But sometimes, it takes only one thing to bulldoze progress.

"Never thought I’d run into you here. Small world, huh?”

He’s rendered you speechless again, he does have a way of doing that. “It’s a typical day,” you nod. You observe him a little and see the way he’s changed too. He’s gotten taller and muscular the last time you remember. You receive the peach from him, placing it on the basket so you could pay. Before you could reach for the money, he’s already placed it on the platter. “You don’t have to-“

“No.” Firm and true. “I owe you.”

You couldn’t tell what he was referring to—was it the peach that maybe had something to do with him? Or the favors of the past? Or was it the ripping of your heart that left you in a lifeless condition? You certainly don’t want to know, but a small voice inside of you does want to. He’s doing it all over again, that same devilish closed lip smile that etched your memory. No! You tell yourself.

He’s been observing you too, looking at you like he used to, admiring the way you dressed in skirts now. The way you parted your hair somehow changed the shape of your face, and the way the gold ring on your ring finger perfectly snuggled and decorated you. He assumes it's just a decoration, he hopes it is just that. But he knows, there was a full possibility that it was not just for display. He blinks twice. You stayed…beautiful.

“It’s not fair,” you say before turning away from him, the peach sleeping in your basket.

“Wait!” He speaks your name like a prayer. It was not silent, it was loud, and begging.

You clutched the rattan in your hand, your right foot a step ahead yet refuses to move as if it was glued to the floor. You wanted to leave. You don’t need explanations from him. But you do.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t speak. But him saying that lifted the burden off your shoulders, somehow releasing the tension in your bones. Something very deeply engraved inside you was the hope that one day your paths would cross again. A simple phrase extinguishes that fire in you; your hands relaxed and your shoulders loosen. It was not bad, and you were glad.

Finally, you can now leave the path the youth in you built, no longer leaving behind a trail of tears. A silent goodbye to the girl that you once were with and without him, letting yourself walk away, full and sure.

[fumifooms]

Firefly Wedding is so…

It’s so

It’s them. It’s "It’s just a firefly, they’re meant to die soon. Why should I care about the sick, or the poor?"

It’s "I was purposely trying to scare you and push you away to see how far you were willing to go with your act, how desperate you were to play with my feelings as if I was a fool, but it didn’t work."

It’s "I know you’re just using me but now I care. Please keep using me. I need you to need me."

It’s choosing to give her her freedom anyways. Because your love is no longer all about you, no longer selfish. Because this love isn’t just a shallow balm to soothe your complexes anymore.

It’s being betrayed, finally facing the lies and no longer pretending you both don’t know that this is a farce, but desperately wanting to keep it going anyways. It’s "I should hate you now. Why don’t I? Hey, tell me we’ll go through with the plan, tell me you’ll marry me after all. Otherwise, why am I still here? Why don’t I want to leave? You act like you don’t need me but I still need you."

Like that’s so revolutionary for a yandere story. The self-delusion is strong, denial that things have changed despite it being impossible to truly believe, BUT HE STAYS. It’s no longer selfish 😭😭

"I don’t care about you anymore, I won’t help you. Get yourself killed for all I care." <- Jumps to her rescue 3 milliseconds later when she almost falls down a ladder/roof. It happens twice. The ‘lying and trying to emotionally distance yourself from something to protect yourself and not get hurt’ defense mechanism is blatant and it’s failing really bad.

It’s "My sense of duty and goals to have accomplished something useful in my short life are making me do this, but I do want you to stay with me." The yandere stuff here gets turned on its head because what he says is empty where it matters and meaningful where it matters. It’s knowing that if Satoko asks him not to kill anyone he won’t, but knowing that he won’t give up on her no matter what, even if she’s unattainable, even if she’s sickly, even if she pushes him away like just before. It’s so thinly veiled for "I’m determined to see my goal through, but that’s not what I want. If you just so happen to take me away and I don’t try to run away hard enough then we can elope and be free. I want to have an excuse to leave with you. Please give up on marrying me. Please don’t. I want that, but I can’t."

It’s "If I didn’t burn brightly in my short firefly life, then what was the point?"

Except that burning brightly doesn’t have to mean making big achievements, or being useful to your family.

It can be living happily, living for the ones you love, fighting for them. It can be worth to risk it for things that actually matter to you.

It’s giving your heart to someone, figuratively and literally. To lend it to them even if it might get used or battered, for as long as it beats to use your body to protect them, even if you have to sacrifice yourself. A love that burns bright into a bonfire before they both turn to ashes. Unwise but wholehearted.

It’s despite even that, needing grandiose gestures to be able to trust that this is real. It’s needing external cues that prove it to feel safe in their love existing, other people to confirm that he’s not crazy, that this is happening and this is how they both feel. Their love has been fake, both being a warped love and being a lie, only being out of necessity or because the other was the only one willing to offer it to them, offering comfort, safety, support and care. And showing that they care is the most loving of all. It’s despite everything falling back into old habits that "Oh if she was miserably worried for me then that means she’s not indifferent to me! That’s good!" And then once again being taken aback by her, by her earnestness and by her will. Because oh, no, this goes deeper than that. She cares. It’s love.

It’s opening your heart up to love, and both being punished and rewarded for it.

But most of all it’s

And it being the most loving thing he’d ever heard

Firefly Wedding is so…

And yet it’s also

The complicated and hurtful nature of love and the joy and light it brings are two sides of the same coin, because that’s what inevitably happens when you care about something. But caring about a firefly isn’t a waste even however short lived it is, or how hard the loss will inevitably hit you. Isn’t their light just such a wonder to witness?

[winchesterwild78]

A Shattered Heart

Master List

Jensen x Reader (girlfriend)

Warnings: Lots and lots of Angst, language, Jensen being a dick (sorry)

A/N: Just kinda in my head and feelings today…This story just popped in my head. Not sure if it’s going to be a one shot or a few chapters. I’ll play it by ear. I had to get this out before I could finish any of my other stories. 🫤 This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. All work is my own and absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. No idea why my head is filled with this story…..it’s brutal. I wrote it fast-like 30 minutes, and didn’t do a great job editing. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The soft glow of the lamp cast long, dancing shadows across the room. Jensen and you had been dating for a few months now, and while there were moments of pure bliss, the weight of his recent divorce often hung heavy in the air. His ex-wife had been particularly cruel during the proceedings, leaving him emotionally scarred.

You’d tried to be there for him, but he would often push you away to deal with things himself. He tried to keep things civil between him and Danneel, for the sake of the kids, but it proved to be a daunting task at times. 

After months of back and forth, they finally arrived at a custody agreement. He would get the kids when he wasn’t filming, and for some holidays. She kept the house in Connecticut and he got the one in Austin. Danneel tried to get both, but the judge decided she had gotten enough from him. Between child support, alimony, half the brewery and half the production company, she was practically set for life.

You had absolutely no problem with the child support, but you felt it was ridiculous she received alimony too. Jensen didn’t put up a fight about that. You respected him so much, the only thing he did fight for was his children. 

After the divorce was final, you moved in with him, into his Austin home. He told you to make any changes you wanted, because as he put it, “It’s your home too.” So you made some changes here and there, but keeping all of the things that were Jensen and of course his children. 

Danneel barely spoke to you, and would often refer to you as a homewrecker, trash, or some other derogatory term she could think of. It pissed Jensen off, because the two of you met after they split up, and you didn’t move in until after the divorce was final. 

You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you, but it really did. You fell in love with Jensen when you saw him at a convention, but you didn’t pursue him until after you heard they had split. Well, you really didn’t pursue him, you two just hit it off and got to talking. You both flirted, alcohol was free flowing, and then you kissed. That was it. Days later, after the convention ended, Jensen reached out to you on social media. You thought it was a joke until he sent you a picture and then video called you. After that you were completely smitten by him.

So now here you were months later, living with him and falling deeper in love with him. You hoped he felt the same way about you. The only obstacle was his filming schedule. It was something you weren’t used to yet, and sometimes it caused tension between the two of you. 

As Jensen’s marriage started to fall apart he purposely spent more time away from home. He took guest starring roles, did more conventions, and even started some new projects. It became a habit that was hard for him to break.

So now even though your relationship was good, he had commitments he had already made. It’s been an adjustment to say the least. Jensen was off filming again, and you were left alone, again. Your heart ached for him, your arms ached for him. The longer he was gone the more in your head you would get, and that was never a good thing. 

After a month-long shooting schedule, Jensen returned home looking haggard and exhausted. you could see the toll it had taken on him. The two of you had spent the evening cuddling on the couch, with you trying to soothe his weary soul. You made his favorite dinner, steak and potatoes, and even baked him a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. 

“Thanks sweetheart for dinner and dessert. You didn’t have to go all out for me.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Yes I did, you’ve been gone for too long and I wanted to show you how much I missed you. Besides, who can say no to chocolate cake?” You winked at him. The two of you spent the rest of the night snuggled together under the blanket and talking while the tv played softly in the background. 

He told you about the latest project he was on, how he’d been called back to guest star in Tracker again. You could see his excitement, but part of you felt a pang of sadness, because that meant more time away from you. You bit your lip to prevent the tears from flowing. You were so proud of him and all his projects, but part of you wanted to be selfish and have him to yourself for a little bit.

Just as you were about to settle in for the night, his phone rang. It was Danneel. You could hear the anger in her voice as she berated him about his absence and how the alimony check was 2 days late. “Fuck, Danneel, it was only 2 damn days. You act like it’s the end of the world. Maybe if you got off your ass and worked it wouldn’t be that big of a deal! I was in Canada and the mail takes longer. Yes, it has to be a check. I want a paper trail to prove I paid it! Bullshit! You would throw me under the bus if you could. You’re just waiting to screw me over!” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. You sat in silence as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. “No! I already told you I’ll be filming. I can’t keep the kids for spring break. That’s not fair, Danneel. Fine! Do whatever the fuck you want!” He hung up with a growl. 

You stepped closer to him and touched his arm, trying to offer some comfort. He shrugged you off, “Not now, Y/N! Fuck!” You flinched at his anger and his words. He’d never spoken to you like that before. It took you by surprise and it hurt. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I was just trying to help.” Your voice came out softer and smaller than you’d ever heard. “Well don’t! You’re not a part of this, you can’t help! Unless you know how I can continue to work and see my kids, while supporting them, my ex and you!” You gasped at his words. “What?! You don’t support me? I work, I make my own money.” 

Jensen scoffed, “Yeah right. Your little paycheck, honey I make that in a fucking day!” Tears filled your eyes and you let out an audible sob. Jensen turned and looked at you as you cried. His eyes were full of rage, his jaw tight with anger. You had no idea why he was taking his anger out on you. 

He ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated growl. “Fuck this shit! I can’t handle my bitch ex wife and now you crying like you are. I’m going out!” He grabbed his jacket and keys and left. 

As he stormed out of the house, you crumbled onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. His words, his anger playing over and over in your head like a record. Each harsh word, like a punch to the chest. You felt incredibly hurt, so betrayed, and so utterly alone. 

You eventually moved off the floor, when the tears refused to fall anymore. Exhaustion overtaking your body, your head pounding from the crying. Hours passed as you laid on the couch, curled in a ball. You checked your phone, hoping for a text or a call from Jensen, but nothing. As the hours ticked on your heart broke more. 

Around 4 am you were startled awake by the sound of the front door opening. Jensen came in, drunk. You could smell the whiskey on him. You sat up and looked at him, “Jensen, do you have any idea what time it is?” You asked softly.

“Nope, don’t care either. Why are you still here? I figured you’d be gone by now.” Jensen asked through slurred speech. You bit your lip and swallowed hard, “You don’t mean that Jensen.” 

You stood up and walked over to him. He stepped closer to you, saw your red, puffy eyes, “Yes I do, darlin’. I thought I made it clear I don’t want you here anymore. It’s only complicating things with my kids.” 

You scoffed as the pain and hurt shot through your body, “Okay, I’ll leave. Just know you’re the one who asked for me to leave, Jensen. I love you.” You walked upstairs without looking back at him. The tears were flowing freely now. Your heart was shattered. You’d given him everything, including your heart, and he just threw it all away. 

Walking into your shared bedroom, you looked around at the life you two had created. You grabbed a suitcase and started filling it up with things. You glanced at Jensen’s side of the bed and saw the picture Chris took of the two of you at the convention you met him at. You saw the love in his eyes and in yours. 

As you left the bedroom you walked back downstairs and found Jensen sitting on the couch. He glanced up at you and saw the suitcase in your hand. You walked over to the kitchen counter, took your key off the ring and set it down. 

Before you walked out the door, you turned around and locked eyes with Jensen. “I love you Jensen, please don’t forget that. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you.” You swear his breath hitched at your words, but you turned so quickly you weren’t sure. 

You put your suitcase in your car and climbed in. Putting the car in drive you pulled out of the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror at the life you were now left to mourn. 

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

[redvexillum]

Here me out. Vox working on wiring some new monitors and getting tangled in the wires. His lovely little assistant finds her boss stuck, wires pulling his shirt a bit up and... well... Vox is pissy becasue he's being seen stuck but he needs help. And the more he tries to wiggle out of the wires, the tighter they get and oh my, does he like that?

🦊- just a random fox passing through, nothing to see here. Def Not Kit.

Dearest Kit or Def Not Kit, I've been going feral over Vox x Reader and I have no one to blame but you for making me fall deeper in love with the flat screen TV-head demon. Your request has been living rent free in my head since the day I saw your devilish prompt sitting sexily in my inbox. Kit or Def Not Kit. Do you see my request list on my front page? Do you see how long it is? I say this with utmost love and respect for you, but damn you for making me possessed and open my word document at 1 in the morning as the story gets longer and longer. XOXO, RedVexi 💋

SUMMARY: Your boss is a class-A hole, and you had envisioned tormenting him for all the overtime he was forcing you to work. Truly, he was ensuring that your time in Hell was...Hell. Perhaps it was you burning out, but you had a very vivid, steamy dream of your boss.

...At least, you were pretty sure it was a dream.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, assistant!reader, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, hating your boss to confused h*rny, reader has vivid s*xual imagination, reader is extremely sleep deprived and is so done with Vox's shenanigans, Vox is sort-of a jerk, fluff if you squint

At first, the letters on your document seemed to shift ever so slightly, causing you to misread some of the words. You squinted, trying to focus on each letter, but it was no use. The words began to dance and twist, performing their own chaotic ballet at an infuriatingly quick tempo. Your head spun, the floor beneath you tilted slightly at an angle, and a sharp pain pierced behind your eyes.  

“Ah, fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand against the middle of your throbbing forehead in a futile attempt to alleviate the discomfort. You took a deep, fortifying breath and reached for your energy drink, downing the sickly sweet liquid that had become your elixir of life. You had lost count after the tenth can, and the end of your workload seemed to grow every time you checked your to-do list.  

Everyone else had long since left the office, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of mandatory overtime, working under the relentless demands of the most unreasonable, Hell-worthy, boss.  

The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, the muscles in your back and neck ached, and your mind screamed for a moment of reprieve. The flickering fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glare on the endless sea of paperwork before you. Each page mocked your efforts, sadistically laughing at you to try to make sense of the cryptic mess of letters and numbers that the previous assistant had left behind.  

As you took another swig of the energy drink, the taste no longer registered, your tongue felt tingly yet numb. It was just a means to an end, a way to keep pushing forward despite the shroud of fatigue threatening to take away your sight.  

“Just a few more hours,” you whispered to yourself, a mantra of survival in the face of exhaustion. The words offered no comfort, but they were all you had now. Taking another deep breath, you picked up one of the many documents littered across your desk. One look and a wave of frustration crashed into you. What was the previous assistant even trying to achieve? 

Nothing made sense.  

Groaning, you leaned back in your chair, letting your head fall back as you squeezed your eyes shut. How many days had it been since you’d had a full night’s sleep? You’d thought being a personal assistant to the CEO of VoxTek – an Overlord of Hell – would pave your path with literal gold.  

Instead, you were wading through a relentless tide of paperwork, guzzling obscene amounts of energy drinks, and simmering in a pit of sexual frustration. Seriously, when was the last time you got laid? Every single one of your partners had left you, fed up with being forever second to your work.  

This morning, your girlfriend – ah, ex-girlfriend now – had screamed at you to choose between her and your job. Before you could respond, your Vwatch buzzed, reminding you it was time to pick up your boss’ dry cleaning.  

With an apologetic smile, you gave her a quick peck on the cheek and pleaded to postpone the conversation until after work. The last thing you heard before you closed the door was her muttering: “Go fuck yourself.” 

And…fuck yourself indeed because the moment you sat at your desk to slog through another hellish day of ungodly work hours, your phone vibrated with her text message. Her final text message telling you that she was leaving you.  

Sighing deeply, the weight of her words pressed down on you. It was a reminder that you were sacrificing everything for your job once again.  

Slowly, you opened your eyes, the fluorescent lights blinded you temporarily. You had died like this – overworked to death for a massive corporation when you were alive. Was this truly your fate, to repeat your human life in Hell?  

Could you find happiness even in this damned place? 

Your shoulders jolted up, and you scrambled to sit upright as you heard the loud crackle of electricity echoing inside the empty room. The demon responsible for your lack of sleep and failing relationships boldly strolled through your office the moment he materialized out from the security camera.  

The prick, a.k.a. your boss.  

“There you are!” Your boss, with all the glory of a cheap flat-screen TV for a head, loomed over you. With a click of his tongue, he narrowed his red digital eyes. “I asked you to bring me the reports thirty seconds ago!” he pointed at your Vwatch, the manacle chaining you to the company, to him.  

You felt your left eye twitch once, twice.  

Thirty fucking seconds.  

Was this for real? Was he seriously pissed off because you didn’t run to his fucking safety hazard of an office within thirty seconds?  

The rage simmered beneath your exhaustion, a boiling, whistling kettle ready to blow its top. The audacity of this bitch-ass baby, to demand so much for so little recognition. Every muscle in your body begged for rest, for a break from the relentless grind that had followed you from the mortal world to damnation.  

Lord, you hated him. Never mind that he could have picked up the fucking report himself.  He literally had the power to teleport anywhere in the building through the security cameras, which were everywhere.  

A sudden, intrusive thought barged its way through your mind. This was your moment. Your moment to finally release the manacle that had been wrapped around your right wrist for the past nine and a half years. A moment to throw this cheaply made watch at his equally tacky flat-screened face.  

Your left fingers twitched, but you remained still, sitting in the chair with your head bowed.  

Were you being too rash?  

Yes. You were.  

You weren’t thinking clearly, overworked and burnt out as you were. 

You couldn't quit even if you wanted to...at least not right now.

The muscles in your eyes continued to twitch as your ears slowly honed in on the sound of Vox throwing a bitch-fit, comparing you to his last assistant, who was “so” much better. He made sure to stress the word “so,” emphasizing your supposed lack of drive, productivity, and quality of work.  

You weren’t really listening to his words. His voice melded seamlessly with the whirring of the computer fans, a droning background noise to your mounting frustration. Each of his cutting remarks sliced through the restraint that held your volatile anger at bay.  

Vox could leave now that he had his report, but he chose to belittle you instead. Your gaze flickered to your wrist, to the cursed device that had dictated the course of your life. You were sure that if you threw this watch at his face, the look of shock glitching across the screen would be quite hilarious.  

“Are you even listening?” he snapped, his voice pulling you back from the haze of your addicting, intrusive thoughts.  

Your eyes flicked back up, meeting the static-filled screen that served as his face. “Yes, sir,” you lied, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.  

“God, I’m surrounded by imbeciles, you and Val–” Vox continued to rant out into the vast empty office that only housed the two of you.  

Couldn’t he see that everyone else had already left? Couldn’t he appreciate that you were still working after hours every single day for almost a fucking decade just to meet his unreasonable expectations? 

Jaws clenching, you continued to hold back your frustration and ire by the skin of your teeth. Couldn’t he just let you catch a single break? For fuck’s sake, you had just gone through a breakup because, once again, you had chosen work – chosen him – instead of your girlfriend, instead of your happiness.  

The desire to pull on his gaudy red bow tie tight, making sure he felt the constriction around his throat, was overwhelming. You imagined pushing him onto your desk, straddling him. You would make sure to crinkle all his precious reports for good measure too.  

Your gaze landed on the way the light reflected off the flat screen of his face. You would smack him, open-handed, just like you used to do with your grandpa’s old television when it fritzed out.  

You remembered your grandpa’s words: You only need one good smack to get it working right again, dear.  

Maybe all Vox needed was that one good smack to be fucking humble for once. Then your eyes dropped to the front of his pants. He was such a massive dick, probably compensating for the size of his package.  

How you wanted to strangle his limp, tiny dick, to see him helpless and subdued. Maybe you could wrap his dick with the goddamn cables you always tripped over whenever you visit his office.  

A smirk lifted your lips as you envisioned the scene. Vox, strung up by his pathetic, limp dick, his eyes wide with fear and humiliation. He would cry and whine, begging you to stop, but you wouldn’t. After all, this had been a long time coming, a deserved retribution for all the bullshit and verbal abuse he had hurled your way.  

“— and don’t get me started on the fact that you look like a hot mess! Don’t you know that VoxTek has an image to uphold–” 

You imagined forcing him to fold over your desk. You’d make him take his cock into his mouth, the humiliating act of self-servitude making him gag. With one hand, you’d grip the edge of his head, shoving his face down further, and with the other, you’d ram a thick, fat dildo into his tight, unused ass.  

His pathetic whimpers would be muffled by the growing hardness in his mouth, a pitiful noise that only drove your desire to dominate him completely.  

You’d thrust into him relentlessly, the dildo filling him over and over. The tight ring of his ass would pucker up, trying to grip the dildo, to keep it shoved up all the way in his ass. Each thrust would be a punishment, a reminder of every insult and degrading comment he had thrown at you.  

“All I’m saying is, I expect better from you–” 

You would fuck him hard and fast with the toy, spurred on by his moans he would desperately want to hold back.  

Vox let out a sardonic laugh. “Then again, maybe that’s asking too much, expecting something incredibly simple from you–” 

You would thrust into him, again.  

“You had one job, and you can’t even–” 

Again.  

“Are you even trying–” 

And again, until you forced him to swallow his own pathetic release. The thought was intoxicating, having Vox submit completely to you. You could see it vividly: his face contorting with a mix of pain and unexpected pleasure. His eyes would squeeze shut, trying to stop the tears forming in his eyes. 

“Sorry, sir,” you blurted out, feeling the heat creeping up to your cheeks and below your gut. Holy shit, were you seriously just thinking of all that? Were you fantasizing about… 

Your boss. 

Your fucking boss.

Shit.  

You were more exhausted than you thought. Clearly, you were horny, tired, and caffeinated to the point of insanity to even entertain the idea of touching your fucking boss.  

Fuck, you desperately needed rest.  

Vox paused, his eyes widened giving you a glimpse of a myriad of emotions you couldn't recognize except one: vulnerability. But that didn't make sense because you meant so little to him – he gave two shits about you.

Before you could scrutinize further, he cleared his throat drawing you away from your circling thoughts. “Yes, well, I expect you to get the reports for the new project organized before tomorrow morning.” 

This time, it was your turn for your eyes to widen. “B-but, sir, th-that's going to take me all night!” You couldn’t stop the whine from spilling out.

His expression remained impassive, the flat screen of his face reflecting your frustration and fatigue back at you. “And?” he said, his tone cold and merciless. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” 

The weight of his words doused your initial flare of anger and was now replaced with perpetual exhaustion. Your body screamed for rest, for a break from this endless cycle of work. But as you looked at Vox, you knew there was no escape, at least not tonight.  

You would push through, as you always did, because, like an idiot you had signed a contract with him to work for Voxtek for the next ten years. You couldn't afford to break that contract, as it would be an automatic forfeiture of your soul.

Curling your fingers into a tight fists, you repeated the same words that acted as your only saving grace for the past two years. You counted down the time before you could finally be freed.

Six more months.

Six more months of working under your shitty boss until you could quit and never look back.

The thought of freedom was a fragile hope, barely enough to sustain you through the grinding monotony and constant humiliation. The tension in your body slowly eased as your fists unfurled, letting your hands hang limply by your sides.

Swallowing the bitter taste of frustration, you forced yourself to nod. "Yes, sir, I'll get it–"

Vox walked away before you could finish your sentence, disappearing with a flash of electricity through his security camera.  

Sighing, you looked at the pile of papers haphazardly covering your desk. The faint hum of the overhead lights and the whirring of computer fans were your only companions. You rubbed your temples, feeling the tension in your head intensify.  

You picked up a stack of papers, and your eyes caught sight of your cell phone peeking out from the mound of documents.  

It looked like you had another long night ahead of you.  

Not that it mattered.  

You had no one to come home to anyway.  

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠 © Fanart of Vox by@glitterypeachy

[ginxyy]

First Snow

It’s been snowing in the UK so now i feel some type of way about Seungcheol in the snow

The first whispers of winter ripple through the vibrant streets of Seoul, where the city breathes in a dance of shimmering lights and festivities. You pull your cozy scarf tighter around your neck, glancing up at the sky as the first delicate flakes of snow begin to drift lazily from above. Each flake is like a wish falling from the heavens, gently thickening until they blanket the ground in a soft, white embrace. It’s the magical beginning of the season, and something stirs within you an adventurous spirit longing for serendipity.

You slip on your gloves, feeling the chill bite at your fingertips, yet the thrill of a night wrapped in snow entices you out of the warmth of your home and into the heart of the city. The sounds of laughter and chatter fill the air as couples stroll hand in hand, their cheeks flushed from the winter chill. You stroll through the streets, mesmerized by the warm glow of shop windows adorned with twinkling lights, feeling the world begin to make its own kind of magic around you.

As you make your way to a nearby park, the snow piles higher, cushioning your steps. The familiar scent of roasted chestnuts wafts in the air, drawing a smile across your face. You find solace within the park's serene embrace, the city’s bustling life muted by the soft blanket of snow. You take a moment to breathe in the freezing air, your heart alight with the enchantment surrounding you.

Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted by a playful bark that cuts through the captivating silence. A frisky Maltese , fur flecked with snowflakes, bounds toward you, tail wagging furiously. You kneel down instinctively, feeling an irresistible pull to meet this exuberant creature. “Hey there, buddy! Aren’t you a sight in this cold?” you say, laughter spilling from your lips as the dog playsfully nudges your hand with his nose.

At that moment, a figure emerges from behind the trees, and your heart skips a beat. He’s taller than you expected, his smile warm and inviting as he calls out gently,” Kkuma! Come back here!” It’s Seungcheol, from Seventeen. You recognize him instantly, no longer just a name spoken in fervent whispers among friends but a living, breathing embodiment of the boy who has captured your attention countless times across your screen.

“Is this little girl bothering you?” he asks, strolling closer, his voice smooth and endearing.

You shake your head, unable to stop the shy smile creeping onto your face. “Not at all! She’s adorable.”

Seungcheol kneels to join Kkuma, tousling the dog’s fur as he explains, “She loves the snow. It’s her first winter too.” There’s a warmth in the way he speaks, a brightness that effortlessly draws you in. You find yourself leaning closer, your heart fluttering like the snowflakes drifting from above.

“I can see that! It’s a beautiful night to be out. Is it your first snow of the season too?” you ask, genuinely curious. The small talk turns easily into deeper conversations, as if you’ve known each other longer than this fleeting encounter.

As the dos and the cold air speed your words between you, you discover shared stories about childhood adventures in winter’s revelry and dreams that flicker like the distant city lights. Each laugh shared weaves a thread of connection, and with each passing moment, you can feel the time stretching and bending around you, almost as if the world has paused to allow this fragment of enchantment to unfold.

“Do you have plans for the evening?” you venture, your heart racing at the possibilities. The night feels alive with electricity, the air thick with the scent of impending romance. Seungcheol looks thoughtful, his gaze locking onto yours, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks.

“Actually, I don’t,” he replies, a soft smile breaking across his face. “I was just planning on enjoying some time with Kkuma, maybe grabbing some hot chocolate later.”

Your heart swells at the thought. “Would you want some company?” The words spill out before you think twice, but the hopeful glint in his eyes mirrors your own sentiments perfectly. “I mean, if Kkuma approves, of course.”

A soft chuckle escapes him, illuminating his features as snowflakes cling to his dark hair. “Well, if Kkuma likes you, I think it’s a solid yes!”

With a sudden rush of audacity, fueled by the warmth bubbling beneath your skin, you suggest, “How about we make it an official date? You, me, and Kkuma? A winter adventure!”

The moment stretches out as Seungcheol regards you with that same warm smile, sparking an undeniable glimmer of interest in his eyes. “I’d love that,” he finally says, his voice low and earnest.

With Kkuma bounding between you, you and Seungcheol walk side by side, the world around you fading away. The park becomes your domain, littered with laughter and snowflakes as you navigate the beginnings of something beautiful, something delicate, just like the glistening snow around you.

You discover a nearby café, its inviting warmth wrapping around you like a loving embrace as you step inside. The rich aroma of hot chocolate rises to greet you, and soon, cups are nestled between your hands, warmth layering against the winter’s chill. Each sip is sweeter than the last, but the moments shared are far sweeter radiant stories exchanged beneath soft lights, your laughter mingling with the sound of clinking cups and the distant music of the bustling world outside.

As the hours slip by, beneath a night sky blanketed in stars and whispers of snow, you realize that this night holds a promise of more than just a fleeting moment among strangers it holds the potential to blossom into something tender and lasting, like the glistening snowflakes that dance on the wind.

For one magical winter night in the heart of Seoul, amidst the laughter of newfound connection and the soft glowing endearments shared, you find yourself captivated not just by the beauty of the season, but by the warmth rising within your heart the kind you can only find when you least expect it, in the most enchanting of ways.

[brainddeadd]

The Meeting

masterlist

The sun is high over Charleston, casting warm light across the quiet set of Outer Banks. You step onto the lot, squinting at the maze of trailers and tents, a little overwhelmed but grateful Maddie invited you. It feels surreal being here, watching her live her dream.

Just as you're turning the corner to find her trailer, you hear a familiar voice.

“Y/N!”

Madelyn Cline bounds toward you, wrapping you in a tight, sun-soaked hug. "I can’t believe you're finally here!" she exclaims, her excitement infectious. "I’ve been waiting all day!"

You grin, feeling lighter already. "Had to come see you in action, superstar."

She loops her arm through yours, chatting a mile a minute as she drags you deeper into the set, pointing out different areas and crew members. “The cast is around here somewhere. You’re gonna love everyone,” she says with a mischievous twinkle.

Just as you approach a group of actors lounging between takes, Madelyn grins wider. “Oh, here—perfect timing. Drew! Come meet my best friend!"

You glance up, and there he is. Drew Starkey, taller in person, standing with a casual sort of confidence that feels effortless. His blue eyes catch yours, and for a second, the rest of the world seems to fall away.

"Hey," he says, extending a hand, his smile easy. "I'm Drew."

You swallow hard, feeling a little flustered under his gaze but managing to smile back. "Y/N."

He holds your hand a moment longer than necessary, his expression thoughtful—like he’s committing your name to memory.

Madelyn notices the subtle shift in his demeanor and smirks. "You two better behave,” she teases. "Y/N’s only here for a few days, so don't scare her off, Drew."

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

And just like that, the conversation flows easily. Drew makes you laugh with stories from set, and you find yourself more relaxed than you expected.

Later, as Maddie gets called away for a quick shot, Drew leans closer, his voice low. "So, what’s the plan for your visit? Think you'll have time to let me show you around Charleston?"

Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you play it cool. "Depends—are you as good a tour guide as you are an actor?"

His grin deepens, the kind of smile that feels like a promise. "Guess you’ll have to find out."

[escapingrealityforamoment]

can you do a conrad x reader and he meets yn at one of his moms chemo sessions- yn being a cancer patient- always sitting with susannah because she’s always wanted a mother figure so she starts spending time at the beach house and conrad falls for her pls!

Thank you so much love for this request!

Conrad Fisher walked into the hospital, his heart heavy with worry and sadness. His mother, Susannah, was battling cancer, and each chemotherapy session weighed heavily on his soul. As he entered the treatment area, his eyes scanned the room, searching for his mother amidst the sea of patients.

And then he saw her.

A young woman named Y/N, sitting next to his mother with a soft smile on her face. Y/N had been attending the sessions, seeking comfort and companionship from Susannah, who had become a mother figure to her. Conrad couldn't help but be struck by the strength radiating from Y/N, despite the weight of her own battle with cancer.

Intrigued by her resilience, Conrad approached Y/N and Susannah, introducing himself with a warm smile. Y/N's eyes flickered with surprise and curiosity as she returned his greeting. They soon struck up a conversation, their words flowing effortlessly as they discovered shared interests and dreams. There was an undeniable connection between them, an unspoken understanding that transcended the confines of their current circumstances.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N began spending more time at the beach house with Conrad and his family. The ocean breeze whispered secrets of healing and hope as they laughed, shared stories, and created new memories together. Conrad found himself falling deeper for Y/N, captivated by her spirit and unwavering determination in the face of adversity.

As their friendship blossomed, Conrad discovered a newfound purpose in supporting Y/N through her cancer journey. He became her rock, her confidant, and her source of strength. Together, they navigated the highs and lows, finding solace in one another's presence.

One evening, as they sat on the porch, the sun casting a golden glow over the beach, Conrad found himself unable to contain his feelings any longer. He took a deep breath, the weight of his emotions spilling out in a rush of words.

"Y/N," he began, his voice filled with sincerity, "you've come into my life like a ray of sunshine, illuminating even the darkest corners. Your resilience, your grace—it's unlike anything I've ever witnessed. And I... I've fallen in love with you."

Y/N's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and vulnerability dancing within them. She reached out, gently touching Conrad's hand, her voice trembling with emotions that mirrored his own.

"Conrad, you've been my pillar of strength through this journey," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "And I've fallen for you too, in ways I never thought possible."

In that moment, the weight of their shared experiences melted away, replaced by the tenderness of their love. Conrad and Y/N embraced, their hearts intertwining like the crashing waves on the shore. The beach house, once a place of solace, now transformed into a sanctuary where their love could flourish.

Together, Conrad and Y/N faced the challenges that lay ahead, finding solace in the knowledge that their love could weather any storm. They shared stolen kisses under the moonlit sky, danced in the rain, and cherished every moment, knowing that life was a fragile gift meant to be treasured.

In the midst of their own battles, Conrad and Y/N discovered a love that transcended illness and hardship—a love that brought light to the darkest corners of their lives. And as they stood together, hand in hand, their hearts beating in unison, they knew that their love story was the most beautiful symphony they could ever compose.

[sol-lar-bink]

Halaro New Ref!!! Halaro New Ref!!!

A revised, finalized look, and a lil deeper look at his electric magic (: ... I prooobably should have designed another outfit for when he's on Venostar, but the Casual look will work for now.

More info under the cut!

Name- Halaro

Age- 25

Gender- Male (He/Him)

Species- Floralian Spider

Sexuality- Bisexual

Occupation/ Job- 

During Sectonia's reign= Royal Cleaner/ Butler

After the events of Triple Deluxe = Works at Castle Dedede & also works with Puffe as part of Haltmann Works Company, Galactic delivery services.

Future - Works with Medea in her bakery 💙🧡

Bio- Halaro is a Floralian spider who grew up in Wild World with his parents. He worked for Sectonia for a few years before her demise in Triple Deluxe. Afterwards, he remains at Castle Dedede, only for adventure to drag him away from Planet Popstar and explore the galaxy!

Halaro himself is a pretty standard spider that you'd expect from Floralia. Black horns with cool ivory tips, a band of orange separating the segments. He has 6 orange diamond shaped spider eyes, two pure white eyes and orange fangs. His hair is a warm grey color, and is rather spiky, pointing downwards. The top of his hair is smooth. Six floating hands in white gloves, with a dark orange cuff and triangle pattern on the back of the gloves- and the thumb too.

As a kid he was happy and bouncy, always making friends, happy to help others... but once he got older, his personality shifted (Mostly due to his first jobs boss being such a terrible person). He keeps to himself, he gets easily irritated, he can get loud if pushed over the edge, but deep down he's still trying to be nice. The people he does care for help bring him out of that secluded shell.

Story: He grew up with his mother and father in Wild World, living in an jungle beside one of the many golden pyramids. His father was a chief leader, while his mother came from Royal Road. Halaro was a wild kid, but as he grew, he became more interested in his mothers live in Royal Road. They would go to yearly festivals, and he loved them. This was the spark that made Halaro want to live and work there.

Fast forward to him as an adult, he worked at a blacksmith with a Bonkers boss who abused and overworked him. Despite living through this nightmare, he would eventually meet Taranza, who offered him a job in the castle as Halaro had unknowingly been tending to some of the castles pieces, including some of Sectonia's jewelry.

After two long years of waiting to get in... by the time he arrived at the castle, the Queen was no longer recognizable to him.

His time in the castle was tough, but leagues better than the prior job. He started out as a simple polish boy, but would quickly become one of the main butlers.

He'd befriend Taranza and Medea, one of the maids- as well as meeting his mirror counter-part, Halara, whom he pretends is a long- lost cousin or step sister... they could never agree on an idea.

After Sectonia's fall, and Dedede destroying the Dimensional Mirror, Halaro and most of the others end up living in Castle Dedede, after he so generously offers a place to stay while Sectonia's castle is in need of repair.

Life seems chill for once, until they realize Halara can't get home with the mirror being shattered. Its pieces cleverly scattered across Dreamland by Dedede, so that it won't harm anyone again.

Halaro, Halara, Medea and a People of the Sky (PotS) named Petalia go in search of the mirror shards. Halaro teams up with Marx at one point, which leads him to sneaking into a Haltmann Works. Delivery Ship, where he would be whisked away with one of the mirror shards in his pocket.

Puffe, the delivery driver immediately punishes them and takes them to headquarters, where Susie decides the two boys must repay their actions through work. Halaro gets paired with Puffe, while Marx gets paired with Pierce.

It would be this decision that leads Halaro and Puffe on a strange quest across the galaxy, finding mirrors of similar power scattered around the various planets.

One of such is Venostar, where Puffe's ship is attacked by a strange creature, crash landing on the planet and separating the two. It is on Venostar that Halaro meets Toxecia, Sylvette, Galene and the Mage Sisters; Zan Partizanne later teaching him electric magic, sensing a potential in him.

There's more to the stories to come, but I'll save that for later!

[ferrstappen]

mónaco l Carlos Sainz

(a/n): this is a very short piece based on one of my favorite songs of all time which, by coincidence, is called Mónaco by Lagos and Danny Ocean. If you listen to it you can picture yourself having a summer romance with Carlos, true story. I'd love to dive deeper into it, but idk I just needed to get it out fast for some reason. hope you like it, feedback is always welcomed<3

summary: pero si algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco (but if there’s something left in us then it’s everything that happened in Monaco)

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre

she'd never forget the warm september night when Carlos took her to the casino for the first time. He still wasn't very familiar with the principality and she was just a fleeting person for a couple of weeks, months, and he couldn't count on her of all people to know the streets of the heavenly Monaco.

As the flutes of Don Perignon continued to flow, he became more and more animated, trying his best to explain the intricate science behind poker and the true meaning behind each card. But despite his best efforts, she found herself unable to concentrate on his words. Instead, she was deeply lost in his eyes, taking in every detail of his sparkling hazel hue.

As she continued to stare, he finally noticed the piercing gaze, causing a warm flush to rise in his cheeks. A shy smile appeared on his lips, and she couldn't resist the urge to lean in and place a gentle kiss on them and when she pulled away, his smile grew wider making her fall deeper and deeper in this announced tragedy.

Everything was good until Carlos realized he was drunk, couldn't drive and didn't remember his address, eyes growing comically large as he came to terms that his alcohol-consumed brain really couldn't remember the name of his street, meaning someone had to drive him and his companion through the beautifully and carefully lit streets until one of you started to recognize his complex and as unusual and absurd of a situation they were in, she couldn't stop giggling as the streets kept passing by in a blur and watched Carlos still trying his best to remember.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar.

her time in Monaco was over and Carlos' career in Toro Rosso was steadily climbing, he couldn't afford to take his mind off the track and she understood, she was willing to fly over just to see him.

but it started to fade away.

she was still willing to deal with three layovers to see Carlos, and his caramel eyes still sparkled when he saw her, but there was something missing, this wasn't like their late nights in strolling around Monaco, drinking cheap wine even if they could afford a way nicer bottle.

they weren't stupid, this wasn't meant to last any longer than a couple weeks in autumn, a simple memory, one of those people you can close your eyes and feel their scent, mind playing tricks that maybe if they closed their eyes long enough they might get a feel of the soft skin of each other, running her thumb through his cheek while he tried to fall asleep.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco.

she stopped flying over, Carlos stopped asking her to spend the weekends off in his apartment, just the two of them

Both reminded themselves this wasn't meant to last, wasn't supposed to create one single string, but they both failed.

chances were, they would find each other again maybe on another holiday, another masters degree, PhD, Grand Prix; a part two, a proper goodbye to te September walks in heels she couldn't take off in order to not get a fine, pouting so Carlos would carry her on his back, as if they knew each other their entire lives.

it wasn't important now.

all they had left was what happened in Monaco.

-------------------------------------------------

translations <3

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre: i don't know if you remember about the time we got lost in September.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar: so many times i took three layovers just to see you, I think I got used to having you as if it was never gonna end.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco: i know it's too late to come back and staying wasn't our plan, i don't know if there's gonna be a second time, but if something's that's left in us is everything that happened in Monaco.

[strawbrrycuteblog]

Hiiiiii,Just a quick ask.

Hybridjungwon!

kitten jungwon feels so needy during his heat cycle,and if you piss him off by the slightest he won't hesitate to get off teasing you for hours as he comes almost everywhere on your body even in you not letting you get off until the last 5 minutes before he falls asleep happily dripping naked with his own juices.

xx,I love your work and I don't see many writers who like hybrid enha so I'm grateful that you like it ,I'm not alone.xx ily <3

Feeling faint.

Pairings: hybrid!jungwon x human!reader

Warnings: mature story, jungwon calls reader slut, kinda filth?, cum play a little, messy, cussing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) , reader annoying wonie, hard Dom jungwon ☺️ reader has pussy btw

A/n: This. Is. My. Favorite. Ask. So. Far.

jungwon had been sitting on the couch for an hour now, trying to distract himself from fucking the living shit out of you, watching many episodes of some show he didn’t every remember the name of all while you were next to him, pinching him softly but enough to piss him off, “y/n I’m not fucking joking, quit it.”

you only laughed at this, “well if I do then what am I gonna do? I’ll be bored.” you continued to pinch him then poke his cheeks, “you’re such a baby.”

His eyes narrowed as you toyed with him, his powerful hand reaching down to grab your wrist tightly before pulling it towards him, forcing you onto your lap. “Here,” you heard him say through gritted teeth, “is where you belong when you want to annoy me.” He began rubbing your hips roughly against his growing bulge, causing both of you to moan. As his excitement grew and you felt him pulsing against you, he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “I'll make sure you regret ever annoying me again. Would you like that?”

you let a moan slip but quickly thought of a bratty remark, “as if you could even make me come.”

Chuckling darkly, Jungwon eventually removed your clothing, leaving you practically naked, save for the lacy red thong you wore. He stared at you hungrily before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his impressive masculine form. "Watch your mouth, slut," he growled, bending over to pull off your underwear, throwing them aside roughly. With one final smirk, he sank down onto the couch, positioning you above him, his cock already throbbing against your entrance. "Try saying that to me now."

you tried to move so his cock head would go inside of your dripping heat, but he barely let you move. “wonie please..I’m sorry..”

"Apologies mean nothing right now, bloodslut," Jungwon murmured, his grip tightening around your waist as he pulled you closer, finally allowing his length to slide into you in one swift motion. You gasped at the sudden invasion, welcoming his girth inside you. "This is what happens when you annoy the wrong person," he reminded you, thrusting into you hard and fast, taking exactly what he wanted while dominating you.

The ecstasy and pain mixed within you only made you crave more, pushing back against him as much as you could, your nails digging into his chest. "Fuck!" you cried out, unable to hold back any longer.

“I’m not a bloodslut.” you remarked to defend yourself, the intrusion witching your warmth had you whole body twitching, sucking him in but he wasn’t gonna let you cum.

Jungwon's smirk remained as he slammed into you relentlessly, each thrust driving him deeper inside you. "Whatever you want to call yourself, you're mine when I claim you," he said, grasping your hips tighter to keep you in place. His other hand traveled up to tweak your sensitive nipples, knowing just how much that would irritate your body in the best way possible. Every harsh thrust of his pelvis against yours brought you closer to the edge, but he refused to let you fall over it yet. Your combined bodies sweat-soaked and tangled together created a beautiful sight as they moved in tandem, filling the room with wet, slapping sounds. "Goddamn, you're so fucking sexy when you scream my name."

“jungwon im gonna cum!” you screamed out, clenching around his member, every small vein rubbing inside of you just right.

Feeling your inner muscles tighten around him was the trigger Jungwon needed, sending him spiraling over the edge of release. With a strained groan, pounding into your womb and stretching you beautifully wide. Hearing and sensing you were about to cum, he pulled out, following him by cumming on your tummy, he didn’t even expect him to finish so fast but he knew he wasn’t done. Far from it.

you started to move before he pushed you down on the couch, “you didn’t think that was it did you?” he spoke hardly, “I’m gonna ruin you, maybe even make you cry.” he spoke again before he stucked his fingers back inside of you, scissoring them and rubbing your gummy walls until he curled his fingers and touched your g-spot, “jungwon im still sensitive!”

Despite your protests, jungwon couldn't help but revel in torturing your sensitive core. He moved his fingers in a circular pattern, driving you wild with heightened need once again. "Shut up, whore," he growled possessively before swiping his thumb across your clit, causing you to collapse further into the couch. Your body writhed beneath his skilled touch, every nerve ending shimmering with pleasure. He continued to torment you, having full control over your body as your moans filled the air. Finally, he couldn't resist any longer, plunging his fingers in deep and pumping them insistentely, making you see stars as you climaxed hard around them. Only then did he remove his fingers, leaving you spent and quivering on the couch, panting heavily. "And that was just round one," he whispered menacingly, running his hands lightly up and down your shaking legs.

“I can’t do more..” coming out of your mouth whilst looking at him, crawling from him before he grabbed your hips and pressed his body against you, “so we’re just disobeying me now?” His ears flickered “don’t think I won’t torture you all night.

And he did, for the next two hours he hand you upstairs, your hips jerking and pulling in different angles, you’re sure the sheets were soaked, you’d squirted so many times already.

“Jungwon I can’t give more..” you repeated like earlier, he only jerked off in front of your face, glazing it with the salty cum, lightly tapping it against your lips, “open.”

And you did, taking his length into your warm, welcoming mouth. Groans came from his lips, his hips pushing against your face, making your head press into the mattress.

You hallowed your cheeks, the invasion of his head in your sore throat brought tears to your eyes, gagging around him but not stopping, wanting to please him until the very end.

Jungwons body was sweaty and half covered in your juices, the other half being his own. His cum was splattered along your body, from you ankles to your knees, thighs, stomach. Anywhere he could jerk off on.

“Such a warm mouth baby..”

You couldn’t stop your self from grinding against nothing, wanting to cum so so bad knowing you probably wouldn’t get it.

You moved your hand and took a hold of hid balls, squeezing them which made him mewl, you didn’t understand how he wasn’t shooting blanks at this point, did his heat mean an endless supply of semen or something?

Cause that’s for sure what this fucking felt like.

His hips stuttered and his tail wrapped around your head, pushing you face until your nose met his hair which were trimmed but still there. “Ah! Y/n! Yes yes yes!!”

He pulled out, you stuck your tongue out, showing him you’d swallowed it and he smirked, “after all this..” he panted. “You deserve a reward don’t you think?”

You sat up, if you had a tail it would be wagging so much right now. But you didn’t know if you could handle another round, you’d probably be the one having blanks.

Jungwon took his sensitive dick in his hand again, pumping it a few times to get it hard as he hissed, it didn’t take much when he was in heat, he got hard even just smelling your pillow. He took the tip, aligning it with the warm hole he already wanted to ruin.

He plunged deep into you, gasps eliciting from both parties as he looked at you, your eyes were nearly closing, he realized you were about to faint on him, the pleasure being too much as you were both exceedingly over stimulated, “hey, open those pretty eyes for me baby.”

He took your chin between his thumb and index finger, hitting against your g-spot, his cock going over it again and again, you opened your eyes.

“That’s it, look at me yeah?”

You nodded, trying to not faint, high pitched whines drawing out of your throat, you squeaked as he sped up, you pulled him close and he tried to keep his dominant look up, but losing it while he saw how helpless you looked, he always loved how desperate you got to having an orgasm. He pulled almost all the way out before slapping back in and making you cum, your mouth agape, back arched, stopped breathing for a second as you seemed to be in a sub space.

He only collapsed on top of you, both covered in sweat and juices, his cum seeping out of whatever side it could escape from, he pulled the blanket over y’all as you’d finally passed out. Both weak and almost shaky. Eventually over the next few minutes you both fell asleep.

[cailinsblog]

"Autumn Leaves and Heartstrings"

Jack hughes x reader

This one is really long

The crisp autumn air was settling over the New Jersey landscape, the trees painting the town in shades of red, orange, and gold. You and Jack Hughes had always loved the fall—when the days became shorter, the evenings grew colder, and every breath you took outside felt fresh and full of possibility. It was the season of your lifelong friendship, the one time of year when you could spend hours together, walking through the colorful streets, sipping on hot drinks, and simply enjoying each other’s company.

You and Jack had known each other for as long as you could remember. Growing up just a few houses apart in your quiet neighborhood, you had spent every autumn jumping into leaf piles, carving pumpkins, and watching Halloween movies. Even now, as you both stood on the brink of adulthood, with Jack thriving in his NHL career and you navigating your own path, that childhood bond had never broken. If anything, it had grown stronger over the years.

But lately, something had changed between you and Jack. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was there, lingering in the air between you. Maybe it was the way Jack’s smiles seemed softer when he looked at you or how his touches lingered just a little longer than they used to. Maybe it was the way your heart fluttered whenever you saw him now, a feeling that had been creeping up on you since the summer. Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny it anymore: Jack was no longer just your best friend.

He had become something more. You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way.

"Y/N, you coming?" Jack’s voice called out, breaking you from your thoughts.

You blinked and realized you were standing on the porch of Jack’s house, staring out at the falling leaves while Jack, his brothers Luke and Quinn, and a few of their friends were gathering inside for a cozy autumn evening together. Jack was holding the door open, grinning at you with that easy charm that always made your stomach do flips.

"Yeah, sorry! I was just admiring the leaves," you said, stepping inside and shaking off the slight chill from the evening air.

"It’s beautiful out there, isn’t it?" Jack said, handing you a mug of hot apple cider. "Perfect night for some fun."

You took the warm mug gratefully, your fingers brushing against Jack’s as he passed it to you. A spark shot through you, and you quickly looked down, hoping he didn’t notice the flush creeping up your neck.

"Thanks," you murmured, taking a sip and letting the sweet, spiced cider soothe your nerves.

Luke and Quinn were already lounging on the couch, arguing over some old Halloween movie they wanted to watch. You laughed at their banter, settling into the familiar rhythm of being with the Hughes brothers. It always felt like home with them, especially Jack. But tonight, that feeling was tinged with something deeper, something you weren’t ready to admit out loud.

As the evening went on, the group sat around in the cozy living room, playing card games, laughing over silly stories, and reminiscing about your childhood. The house smelled like cinnamon and apples, and the fire crackled softly in the background. It was the perfect fall night.

"Hey, Y/N," Jack said suddenly, nudging you with his elbow as everyone else got distracted with their conversation. "Wanna go for a walk? Just like old times?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you nodded, trying to keep your cool. "Sure, I’d love that."

He grabbed his jacket, and the two of you slipped out of the house, leaving the warmth and noise behind. Outside, the cool autumn breeze rustled the leaves around you as you walked side by side down the quiet streets, just like you had done countless times before. But this time, it felt different.

There was a comfortable silence between you, broken only by the crunch of leaves underfoot. Jack kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. You could feel your own nerves buzzing, the unspoken tension building with every step.

"Remember when we used to come out here after school?" Jack finally said, his voice soft.

You smiled at the memory. "Yeah, we’d race to the park, and you’d always let me win."

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "That’s because I didn’t want to deal with you pouting when you lost."

"I did not pout!" you protested, giving him a playful shove.

"You totally did," he teased, catching your hand before you could push him again. His hand was warm against yours, and suddenly, the playfulness between you faded into something more serious.

You stopped walking, your hand still in his, and turned to face him. Jack’s expression had softened, his blue eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart race. The cool air around you seemed to disappear as warmth spread through your chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the cider or the fire back at the house.

"Y/N…" Jack began, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, and suddenly you were hyper-aware of how close he was, how his thumb brushed lightly against your hand, how his gaze had dropped to your lips.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You had wanted this for so long, but now that it was happening, you were terrified.

"What is it, Jack?" you asked softly, your voice trembling.

"I…" He hesitated, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words. "I don’t want to mess this up, Y/N."

You frowned, confused. "Mess what up?"

"Us." He let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your hand. "I know we’ve been best friends forever, but…I think I’m in love with you. I’ve been feeling this way for a while now, but I didn’t want to ruin what we have. You mean too much to me."

Your heart stopped for a moment, the words sinking in. He loved you. Jack Hughes, your best friend, loved you.

"I…Jack, I—" you started, but he quickly cut you off, his expression suddenly anxious.

"It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way," he rushed out. "I just couldn’t keep it in anymore. I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking about it."

You stared at him, your mind racing. All the years of friendship, all the moments that had led up to this one—they suddenly made sense. The butterflies you felt around him, the way your heart would leap whenever he smiled at you, the warmth that filled you whenever he was near. You had been in love with him for just as long, but you had been too scared to admit it.

"Jack," you said softly, stepping even closer to him, "I feel the same way."

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he just stared at you in disbelief. "You do?"

You nodded, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "I’ve been falling for you for a while now, but I didn’t want to risk losing you as a friend. I was scared too."

Jack’s face lit up with relief and joy, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was both tender and full of passion. The world seemed to disappear around you, and all you could feel was the warmth of Jack’s embrace, the softness of his lips, and the overwhelming love that had been building between you for so long.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Jack rested his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped tightly around you.

"I can’t believe this is real," he murmured, his eyes filled with wonder. "I’ve wanted this for so long."

"Me too," you whispered, your heart swelling with happiness.

You stood there for a moment, holding each other under the soft glow of the streetlights, the cool autumn breeze swirling around you. Everything felt perfect.

As you made your way back to the house, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something beautiful. Jack’s brothers, Luke and Quinn, teased you both mercilessly when you walked in, but Jack didn’t care. He just smiled and pulled you closer, ignoring their jokes.

"About time," Luke said with a grin, nudging Quinn.

"Yeah, we’ve been waiting for this forever," Quinn added, smirking at Jack.

Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t let go of your hand. "Laugh it up, guys. I don’t care."

You laughed along with them, feeling light and free. This was the start of a new chapter, one filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of Jack’s heart.

And as you settled in for the rest of the night, surrounded by Jack and his family, you knew that this fall would be the most unforgettable one yet.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED BY DECIDER MAGAZINE.

I THINK THE MOST WHOLESOME AEGON MOMENT EVER WAS WHEN SUNFYRE GREETED HIM BEFORE ROOK'S REST. KIND OF LIKE A DOG NUZZLING ITS OWNER. HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE THE BOND BETWEEN AEGON AND HIS DRAGON AND WHAT IT MEANS TO HIM?

"I think you’ve just done it very well."

"I think it is like a dog and his owner."

"It was interesting."

"My dad was talking to me about how that scene was very touching and stuff."

And I was just like, 'You know what? You know what I felt when we did it on that day?'

"When the amazing puppeteers came over with the big, blue dragon head that would later be CGI-ed into Sunfyre."

"The way they were moving and breathing with this big piece of set was just like, it just reminded me of my dog, Ziggy."

"So, yeah, I fully leant into that and imagined it was him nuzzling me in the chest."

"And he’s sat with me right now, and that’s how it felt on the day."

"So, yeah, I’m glad that came across."

SUNFYRE IS CONSIDERED DEAD NOW IN THE STORY, BUT IN THE BOOKS, AT LEAST, A HUGE TURNING POINT FOR YOUR CHARACTER DOWN THE ROAD IS WHEN HE'S REUNITED WITH SUNFYRE. ARE YOU HOPEFUL THAT WILL INDEED PLAY OUT IN THE SHOW? AND WHAT DO YOU THINK A REUNION LIKE THAT COULD MEAN TO AEGON?

"Oh, we’ll see."

"Well, I’m not sure."

"I’m not sure."

"I mean, that’s not up to me either, is it?"

"But, yeah, that would be lovely."

"It would be lovely."

"I think it’s important for a dragonrider to have a dragon with them and have a companion in that sense."

"Yeah, there’s just that sort of extra connection, that sort of deeper connection that you have with your dragon, in the same way that you have with your dog, than with all human beings."

"Your dog knows so much more about you than most humans do."

"[Laughs] So, yeah, I think it’s the same thing."

WHEN I SPOKE TO MATTHEW NEEDHAM BEFORE THE SEASON BEGAN, HE HAD MENTIONED THAT HE HAD ALWAYS FELT THAT LARYS AND AEGON WERE CONNECTED IN THE SHOW AT LITTLE AEGON'S NAME DAY. NOW I'M CURIOUS. BECAUSE RIGHT NOW LARYS IS KIND OF AEGON'S ONLY FRIEND, WHAT DO YOU THINK IS BONDING THESE CHARACTERS FROM AEGON'S PERSPECTIVE?

"Yeah, I think there’s definitely common ground with Aegon and Larys."

"There’s now this shared experience of being, you know, physically impaired."

"This is something that Larys has had to live with his entire life, but it is very new to Aegon."

"So any advice or any talks or anything like that that Larys has to give Aegon, Aegon is listening to him."

"For the first time in a long time, he’s listening to somebody and trusting them."

"Aegon feels like Larys has Aegon’s best interests at heart."

"Yes, there may be some personal gains eventually, but for now Larys seems legitimate and like he will actually help Aegon help in his pursuit to survive and thrive."

"I was talking to somebody before about it, and I’m saying, out of all the bad options that are sort of laid in front Aegon at the moment, this seems to be the least damaging and most likely to help them survive a little bit longer."

YOU MENTIONED AEGON'S PHYSICAL IMPAIRMENT. OVER THE WEEKS, WE'VE SEEN JUST VARIOUS STAGES OF MAKEUP ON AEGON, AS HE'S BEEN IMMEDIATELY IN THE AFTERMATH, AND NOW HE'S BEEN IMPROVING. WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO DEAL WITH ALL THE PROSTHETICS? HOW DID IT CHANGE FROM WEEK TO WEEK? AND DID YOU HAVE A FAVORITE OR LEAST FAVORITE LOOK?

"I mean, for a start, it was an experience I’ve never had before."

"Being clad in all that prosthetic, it takes a lot of time."

"It takes a lot of patience from the artists themselves and a lot of skill."

"I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, you know, I get the easy job."

"I just have to sit there and have it put on me in bed."

"People are getting up at ridiculous hours of the morning and preparing everything even before I arrive."

"Then once I’m sat in the chair, they spend six to seven hours applying it."

"At which time, I get to fall asleep or read a book or listen to a podcast."

"I get the easy side of things, but, yeah, it’s definitely an experience I’ve not had before."

DID YOU SAY IT WAS SIX TO SEVEN HOURS?

"Yeah, sometimes."

"That’s my least favorite part of it, the amount of time spent in the chair."

"But also, it does get quicker as the healing process improves."

"For example, like the initial burns where the armor was being peeled out and you could see, you know, torso, arm, face, neck, all that… That was six to seven hours."

"Really raw burns."

"But as that starts to heal, we shaved a couple of hours off it."

YEAH, ONE DETAIL THAT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE IN THE FINALE WAS TO REVEAL THAT AEGON LOST A KEY PART OF HIS MANHOOD IN THE FIRE. SO AT WHAT POINT DID YOU KNOW THAT WAS AN ELEMENT TO HIS INJURIES? AND HOW DRASTICALLY DOES THAT CHANGE HOW HE SEES HIMSELF?

"[Chuckles] Yeah, yeah."

"What a shame."

YEAH, HIS POOR PENIS. I WAS LIKE, 'OH NO!'

"Understatement of the year! I first realized that was a part of his injuries in the read-through week."

"[Both laugh.] Around the table with everybody."

"So that was interesting."

"Actually, you know what? Who knows what he thinks?"

"I haven’t had that much time to think about it."

"I don’t think he’s had that much time to think about it in great detail."

"I don’t think a lot of his injuries have really sunk in yet because he’s been laying in his bed."

"I think they’ll really start — particularly once he starts moving around and using his body again and being physically more engaged in his body — that’s when he’ll start to realize what damage has been done."

"Yeah, I think that will all become clear as Season 3 unfolds."

"But, yeah, I don’t think he’ll be spending much more time in Flea Bottom."

I WAS JUST SPEAKING WITH EWAN, AND HE MENTIONED OFFHANDEDLY THE AMBIGUITY OF THE SCENE IN WHICH AEMOND PRESSES THE KING'S BALL FROM THE SMALL COUNCIL INTO AEGON'S CHEST. HE SAID IT WAS VERY AMBIGUOUS ON HIS END. DID IT FEEL AMBIGUOUS ON YOUR END? DOES AEGON CONCEIVE IT AS A THREAT, OR DOES HE SEE IT AS POTENTIALLY HANDING THE KINGSHIP BACK?

"I think, as Aegon, I just saw that as Aemond playing little sort of status games with him and trying to be threatening, but really just sort of… I’ve taken a personal dislike to Aemond."

"[Chuckles] Yeah, I think he’s a little weasel that needs punishing now."

WHEN I SPOKE TO YOU BEFORE THE SHOW CAME OUT, YOU MENTIONED THE PHILIP LARKIN POEM, 'THIS BE THE VERSE' INFORMING AEGON'S RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS PARENTS. THERE IS THIS HEART WRENCHING MOMENT WHEN AEGON IS FIRST COMING TO AFTER ROOK'S REST. HE ONLY SAYS 'MUMMY,' AFTER ALICENT LEAVES HIS SIDE. CAN ALICENT STILL REACH HIM? DO YOU THINK THAT RELATIONSHIP IS COMPLETELY RUINED? AND WHAT DOES AEGON NEED FROM HIS MOTHER AFTER ROOK'S REST?

"I don’t think they really ever had a relationship to ruin, to be honest."

"There’s always been fractures in it."

"There’s always been a severe case of approaching things from totally different angles."

"Neither of them really have the tools or the know-how to give the other what they need."

AS A FOLLOW UP, HE LEAVES KING'S LANDING BEFORE RHAENYRA ARRIVES IN THIS VERSION OF THE STORY. SO HE HAS NO IDEA THAT ALICENT HAS BASICALLY BARTERED HIS LIFE OVER. DO YOU THINK HE WILL DISCOVER THAT HIS DEATH WAS PART OF ALICENT'S BETRAYAL? AND DO YOU THINK THAT WOULD FURTHER JUST PUT THEM AT ODDS?

"Yeah, of course."

"I think the writers are clever enough to pick up on those little details and to use those as ammunition."

"I mean, I hope so."

"That’d be great, wouldn’t it?"

"But then again, I’m not a writer, and those guys are absolutely phenomenal."

"So I will leave them to do that, and I’ll do my job."

YOU'RE NOT A WRITER, BUT DO YOU HAVE ANY HOPES FOR WHERE AEGON MIGHT BE NEXT SEASON? DO YOU WANT TO HAVE A BUDDY ROAD TRIP MOMENT WITH LARYS? DO YOU WANT TO GO TO ESSOS? IS THERE ANY AREA IN WESTEROS OR ESSOS THAT YOU REALLY WANT TO EXPLORE WITH MATTHEW NEEDHAM NEXT YEAR?

"Do you know what? Me and Matthew spend the majority of our time, if not all of our time on Season 2, in the studios at Leavesden."

"So I think we’re both just grateful for any opportunity we get to be on location, have some fresh air and see some new places."

"These beautiful landscapes that literally every other actor got to experience on Season 2, but we didn’t."

"So, yeah, anywhere that takes us away from the studio would be fantastic."

YOU'VE TALKED A LOT ABOUT HOW ROOK'S REST GIVES AEGON SO MANY PHYSICAL AILMENTS, BUT IT ALSO SEEMS TO CHANGE SOMETHING IN HIM. DO YOU THINK THERE'S ANYTHING TO A 'PHOENIX RISING FROM THE ASHES' METAPHOR THERE, WHERE AEGON IS SORT OF GETTING A NEW CHANGE TO ASSERT HIMSELF AS A DIFFERENT KIND OF LEADER, RULER OR MAN?

"Absolutely, Meghan."

"I think you’re absolutely right, for sure."

"The phoenix rising from the ashes is a great image, and I think that’s spot on."

"He becomes colder."

"He becomes more driven."

"He becomes less attentive to how people receive him."

"I think he’s in business mode now."

"There’s been too many people taking advantage of him and whoconsider him useless or ineffective."

"So, yeah, he’s now going to I think he’s now going to buckle down."

"That’s perceive him, anyway."

AND IS HIS ULTIMATE GOAL JUST THE IRON THRONE? OR DOES HE ALSO WANT TO ENACT REVENGE ON THOSE HE FEELS HAVE HARMED HIM OR NOT TAKING HIM SERIOUSLY?

"Yeah, I think he wants to inflict pain now at that point, and I don’t know if it will make him feel any better, to be perfectly honest."

"I don’t think revenge ever fully does give you that peace."

"He’s a man with nothing to lose."

"In the sense that, of course, he has the throne to lose, but it’s not really his throne to lose."

It’s much greater than him."

"You know, it’s his family name."

"It’s his pride."

"It’s his manhood."

"It is everything."

"Somebody has come and killed his child and then he’s been attacked by his own brother."

"You know, there’s nowhere to turn that’s safe."

"So, yeah, he feels very much like a one man band — with the added assistance of good Lord Larys Strong." [Chuckles]