#i promised i'd draw them for our wall

[kuppikahvia]

Gay dads on a boat and in between the pages of Arthur's journal

[iamgonnagetyouback]

I'D MARRY YOU WITH PAPER RINGS.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤ ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ J. POTTER

SUMMARY ৎ୭ ever since you were kids, james has always given you paper rings—little promises of forever. but as you both grow up, things start to change. the rings stop, the treehouse burns, and suddenly, james is standing with lily, holding a paper ring meant for someone else… or so you think

WARNINGS ಇ. fluff overload, pining, a sprinkle of angst but resolved quickly, excessive paper rings INSPIRED BY ಇ. (a bit) ➺ paper rings by taylor swift A/N ಇ. childhood best friends to lovers is james potter’s ultimate trope. argue with the wall ‹𝟹

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 3,438

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

James Potter was seven years old when he decided that he was going to marry you. He didn’t understand much about marriage—only that it meant you’d be together forever, which sounded like the best thing in the world. After all, you were his best friend, and if forever wasn’t you, then who else could it be for?

The Potters and your family were close friends, and most weekends, you were bundled into the fireplace to floo to their house. James would meet you on the other side, grinning wildly and already tugging your arm to drag you outside. The two of you were inseparable, whether you were building forts in the garden or chasing each other around with toy brooms.

“Sunny, you’re supposed to catch it!” James exclaimed one summer afternoon as he tossed a quaffle your way. His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them up impatiently.

“I’m trying!” you yelled back, laughing as the ball sailed past your outstretched arms. You were too busy giggling to notice James running to retrieve it. He came back with dirt on his knees and his hair even messier than usual.

“We’ll practice until you’re as good as me,” he declared, puffing out his chest in mock importance.

You scrunched up your nose, sticking your tongue out at him. “What if I don’t want to be good at Quidditch? What if I want to be the best cake-eater in the world?”

James grinned, his own cheeks turning pink. “Then I’ll be the second-best. We can do it together.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

By the time you were eight, James had discovered the fine art of crafting paper rings. It started when he saw his mum making origami flowers for a party. Naturally, he wasn’t allowed near the good parchment—but his dad handed him some scraps, and the rest was history.

The first paper ring James gave you was lopsided, crumpled at the edges, and had a faint ink smudge from where he’d tried to draw a flower on it. You’d accepted it with wide, delighted eyes, slipping it onto your finger like it was made of gold.

“What’s this for?” you’d asked, holding it up to inspect the crooked folds.

“It’s…” James hesitated, suddenly bashful. “It’s a promise. You’re my best friend, and I’ll always be there for you.”

You grinned so brightly he thought his chest might burst. “I’ll always be there for you too, Jamie!” you chirped, and the name stuck, much to his parents’ amusement.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

At nine, you and James built a treehouse. Or at least, you started to. James had insisted on using magic, and after much begging and wheedling, his mum had charmed a few planks of wood into place.

“It’ll be our secret hideout,” James said as you hammered nails into the rickety ladder.

“For what?” you asked, holding the ladder steady. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, and there was a streak of mud on your cheek, but you couldn’t have been happier.

“For… secret plans,” James decided. “Like how we’ll sneak extra pudding without anyone noticing.”

You beamed. “And maybe we can put all the paper rings here too. Like a treasure chest!”

He thought that was the best idea ever.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

By ten, James had made you more paper rings than either of you could count. Some were decorated with little doodles, others with clumsy attempts at flowers or hearts. You kept them all in a shoebox under your bed, treasuring them like the precious artifacts they were.

One rainy afternoon, you and James sat cross-legged on the rug in his room, watching the droplets streak down the window.

“Sunny,” James said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you know what love is?”

You tilted your head, considering. “Not really. I think it’s when someone makes you really happy. Like my mum when she bakes my favorite cookies.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I think it’s when someone does things for you. Like… like when you gave me the bigger half of your pie last week.”

You grinned, your toothy smile making his cheeks heat up. “Then I think love is when you gave me your scarf when I was cold.”

He grinned back, lopsided and bright. “Maybe love is when we’re best friends forever.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

When you turned eleven, everything began to change. A letter arrived, delivered by an official-looking owl, and James practically dragged you across the room to celebrate.

“We’re going to Hogwarts together!” he exclaimed, lifting you off the ground in his excitement. “This is going to be the best year ever!”

You squealed, clutching onto him as he spun you around. “Jamie, I’m so excited!”

Later that day, he gave you another paper ring. It was neater this time, folded carefully with gold-trimmed parchment he’d begged off his mum.

“This one’s special,” James said solemnly as you slipped it onto your finger.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Because it’s the last one before Hogwarts,” he said. “But I’ll make you loads more when we’re there.”

You beamed, clutching the ring to your chest. “Best friends forever?”

“Forever,” he promised.

And that was the thing about James Potter. Even when he didn’t fully understand what love was, he knew one thing: it was always going to be you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

At Hogwarts, you quickly became part of the infamous Marauders. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and you. Whether it was sneaking into the kitchens for late-night snacks or plotting pranks on the Slytherins, the five of you were inseparable.

James had a knack for getting the group into trouble, and you had a knack for talking your way out of it.

“It’s not my fault Snape looks so funny when his robes turn pink,” James argued one day, as you all hid in an empty classroom after a particularly successful prank.

“You used an entire bottle of dye,” Remus pointed out dryly, though he was biting back a smile.

“Totally worth it,” Sirius said, high-fiving James.

Peter chuckled nervously. “Do you think he’ll ever figure out it was us?”

“Who cares?” you said, laughing. “Jamie, you’re brilliant.”

James beamed at your praise, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face.

But while James was fearless in most things, there was one subject that turned him into a bumbling mess: Lily Evans, although you understood the feeling, cause she was gorgeous.

“Merlin’s beard, just look at her,” James sighed dreamily one afternoon as the five of you sat under a tree by the Black Lake. Lily was a few yards away, reading a book and flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“You’re staring again,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

James turned red. “I am not!”

“You absolutely are,” Sirius chimed in, smirking. “If you’re going to pine, at least do it with some dignity, Prongs.”

“I’m not pining!” James protested, though his voice cracked slightly.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You drew a heart with her initials in your Transfiguration notes yesterday.”

“I did not!” James said, horrified.

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “You did. I saw it too.”

You burst out laughing, leaning into James as he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Jamie, it’s okay to have a crush. Especially if it's on Evans. I do too but the difference is you’re terrible at hiding it.”

“You lot are the worst,” he muttered, though he couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Despite the relentless teasing, you were always James’ biggest supporter. When he finally worked up the courage to ask Lily out in your fifth year, you were the one who gave him the pep talk beforehand.

“You’re James Potter,” you said firmly, gripping his shoulders. “You’re charming, funny, and completely brilliant. If she doesn’t say yes, it’s her loss.”

James smiled nervously. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you said confidently.

And even though a small part of you felt a twinge of something you couldn’t quite name, you pushed it aside. Because James was your best friend, and you’d always be there for him—just like he’d always be there for you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

It happened gradually, so slowly that you didn’t notice at first. The paper rings, once a constant in your life, became fewer and fewer. By sixth year, they stopped altogether. You told yourself it didn’t matter—after all, you and James were still thick as thieves. He was busy with Quidditch, the Marauders, and his relentless pursuit of Lily Evans.

But deep down, you missed them.

Then one day, an owl from your parents arrived during breakfast in the Great Hall. You tore open the envelope eagerly, only to feel your stomach drop as you read the letter.

The treehouse at the Potters burned down.

Your chest ached as you reread the words. The treehouse, your secret hideout, the place where you’d kept all the paper rings James had ever given you—gone. Reduced to ashes.

You left the Great Hall in a daze, clutching the letter as tears blurred your vision. It wasn’t just a treehouse. It was years of memories, laughter, and promises that now felt lost forever. You needed to tell James. He would understand.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You found him in the courtyard, a broad grin on his face as he spoke animatedly to Lily. She was laughing, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, and for a moment, you hesitated.

Then you saw it: a paper ring in his hand. Your heart clenched painfully as he turned it over in his fingers, showing it to Lily with the same excitement he’d once reserved for you.

You felt a lump form in your throat. It was silly, really. You’d known for years that James fancied Lily. You’d encouraged him, teased him, supported him. And yet, seeing him with a paper ring—your paper ring—meant for her…

It felt like losing a part of yourself.

You turned on your heel and walked away before he could see you, the letter crumpled in your hand. As you hurried back to the common room, you tried to push the image from your mind, but it clung stubbornly.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. Maybe Lily had finally agreed to a date. Maybe the ring wasn’t even for her. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

But the ache in your chest told a different story.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You didn’t sleep much that night. The weight of the treehouse’s destruction—and the memories it held—pressed heavily on your chest. When morning came, you dragged yourself to breakfast, your usual bubbly demeanor dimmed.

James was already there, sitting with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, recounting some Quidditch play. He caught sight of you as you approached, and his grin faltered.

“Morning, sunny,” he greeted, nudging the bench beside him. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

You plopped down next to him, twisting the edge of your sleeve. “James… the..the treehouse, it burned down.”

His face froze, confusion quickly giving way to shock. “What?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

You handed him the crumpled letter. He read it, his expression shifting to heartbreak. “Our treehouse? The one we built with my mum’s old cushions and all the fairy lights?”

You nodded, your throat tight. “All the paper rings… they were in there, James.”

For a moment, he just stared at the letter. Then, without warning, he pulled you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you like they used to when you were kids, and you buried your face in his shoulder, letting the familiar scent of parchment and pine comfort you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t think—I didn’t realize—”

You missed the way his breath hitched, his soft oh of realization. Missed the quick glance he threw across the table to Lily, whose knowing gaze met his. Her lips curled into the faintest smile, as if she understood something neither of you had quite pieced together yet.

But you were too caught up in the hug, too lost in your own heartbreak to notice anything else.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

James Potter was not one to do things halfway. The moment he realized how much those paper rings had meant to you, he made it his mission to bring them back into your life in abundance. It started small—a single paper ring folded neatly and tucked into your Potions book during class.

“James,” you whispered, holding it up with an amused smile. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“Trouble’s my middle name,” he whispered back, grinning mischievously before turning back to Slughorn’s lecture like he hadn’t just slid a tiny masterpiece of folded parchment into your life.

But James Potter didn’t stop at small. Soon, the paper rings started appearing everywhere. One in your bag during Transfiguration. Another tucked into your scarf at breakfast. A stack of them slid under your pillow one night. He even charmed one to float down from the owlery like a paper snowflake as you walked past.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The grandest moment came during Transfiguration. James, thinking he was being discreet, crept over to your desk mid-lecture to slip a particularly colorful ring onto your parchment. Just as he leaned down, a shadow loomed over both of you.

“Ahem,” Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice cut through the room like a knife. The class went silent, every head swiveling to witness James Potter caught red-handed.

James straightened, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Just delivering a very important piece of classwork, Professor,” he said smoothly, holding up the paper ring as if it were a prized essay.

McGonagall’s lips twitched, though she worked hard to suppress a smile. “Very well, Mr. Potter. But if I catch you again, you’ll be writing lines until your quill runs out of ink.”

“Yes, Professor,” James said solemnly, though his wink to Sirius betrayed him.

As McGonagall turned back to the blackboard, you swore you saw her glance over her shoulder and wink—wink—at you. For a moment, you questioned your sanity.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

By the end of the week, you had more paper rings than you knew what to do with. You didn’t have the heart to throw them away—not after all the effort James had gone to—so you started collecting them in an old chocolate box you found in your dorm.

Every night, you added the day’s rings to the collection, tracing your fingers over the creases and folds as you smiled to yourself. It was ridiculous, really. They were just bits of paper, after all. But each one felt like a tiny promise—a reminder of a boy who made the world brighter simply by being in it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

It was another morning at the Gryffindor table, and James was unusually quiet. Normally, he’d be drumming his fingers on the table, bantering with Sirius, or laughing at something Peter said. But today, he was poking at his eggs, lost in thought.

Remus noticed first. Of course, he did. “You haven’t mentioned Lily in a while,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow. “What happened? Did she finally hex you into silence?”

Sirius barked a laugh, and Peter snorted into his pumpkin juice. But James just shrugged, looking nonchalant.

“Oh, yeah, about that,” he said casually, as if he weren’t about to drop a bombshell. “Well… that’s not happening.”

Your fork clattered onto your plate. “Really?” you blurted, a little too loudly. You immediately ducked your head, heat rushing to your cheeks.

James smirked, but it wasn’t his usual mischievous one—it was softer, more thoughtful. “Yeah, she kind of pointed out that I might have feelings for someone else.”

The table went silent. Even Sirius, who rarely let anything keep him quiet for long, was staring at James in surprise.

“And?” Remus prompted, leaning forward like he already knew the answer.

“And I realized… she was right,” James admitted, his voice quieter now.

“Oh,” you said softly, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. “That’s… interesting.”

“Yeah,” James said, turning to look at you with a curious expression. “It is.”

For a moment, his hazel eyes seemed to search yours, like he was trying to figure out if you knew what he meant—if you felt the same.

But before he could say anything else, Sirius, who clearly couldn’t handle the suspense, interrupted with a loud, “So, who’s the lucky person, Prongs? Don’t leave us hanging!”

James flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink as he grabbed a piece of toast and stuffed it into his mouth, muttering something unintelligible.

“Oh, come on,” Sirius teased, elbowing him. “Out with it, mate!”

But James just shook his head, laughing nervously. “Not telling,” he mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

The conversation shifted after that, Sirius dragging Peter into a heated debate about whether or not owls secretly judged their owners, and you found yourself staring at your plate, your thoughts spinning.

You didn’t know what to make of James’ words. Who was he talking about? Was it someone you knew? Was it… you?

You glanced at James out of the corner of your eye. He was laughing now, teasing Peter about his messy handwriting, but there was something different about him—something softer.

You pushed the thought away. It couldn’t be you. Could it?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The Owlery was quiet, save for the soft hoots of the owls roosting in their perches. You had just tied your letter to your parents onto a barn owl’s leg, stroking its feathers as it took off into the morning light. Beside you, James was doing the same, his handwriting as messy as ever but filled with his usual warmth and charm.

As his owl soared into the sky, you lingered by the ledge, watching the horizon. James leaned beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was comfortable, the kind that came with years of friendship. But you couldn’t stop thinking about breakfast, about what he’d said, and about the way he’d looked at you.

“So,” you started, your voice soft, “this… someone else you might have feelings for.”

James froze, his hands gripping the stone ledge. “Oh,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. “That.”

You turned to face him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah, that.”

James rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Right. Well…” He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” you asked, taking a step closer.

He glanced at you then, his hazel eyes searching yours. “Because, well because it’s you,” he said quietly.

The words hung in the air, delicate and trembling. You stared at him, your mouth slightly open in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah,” James said, his cheeks flushing pink. “It’s always been you, I think. I just… didn’t realize it until Lily pointed it out. And then when I thought about it—about us—it just made sense, you know? You’ve always been there. You’ve always been you.”

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “James…”

“I know it might be weird,” he said quickly, misinterpreting your silence. “And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just thought you should know, because I—”

“I feel the same,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

He blinked at you, his mouth hanging open. “You do?”

You nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. “I do.”

For a moment, James just stared at you, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, his lips curled into the biggest, brightest grin you’d ever seen.

“Brilliant,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You laughed, the sound light and bubbly, and he joined in, his joy infectious. Before you knew it, he was stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours.

“I, uh, don’t have a proper ring,” he said, his voice nervous but warm. “But…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar folded strip of parchment.

Your breath hitched as he gently slipped the paper ring onto your finger, his touch lingering. “There,” he said, his smile soft and a little shy. “Perfect.”

You looked down at the ring, your chest swelling with warmth. It was so James���simple, sweet, and utterly wonderful.

“Perfect,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

When you looked up, he was already watching you, his hazel eyes filled with something so soft and tender it made your knees weak.

“Does this mean you’re stuck with me?” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“Forever, if you’ll have me,” James said, grinning.

And as the owls cooed above and the sunlight bathed the two of you in gold, you knew you would. Forever and always.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[jjjjisun]

Sweat & Desire

Sooyoung X Male OC | 2119 words

TW: Incest

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Buy me a Ko-Fi.

Book commissions here.

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Request from Discord: Snsd sooyoung with her 21 year old nephew. Her nephew and her went to the gym for a workout, but things go feral when Sooyoung wants a harder workout

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Author's note: I'm still sick :<

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In the heart of a bustling city, nestled between towering skyscrapers, lay our local gym, "Fitness.mode." I'd been frequenting it since I moved in with my mom after my dad's sudden passing. The spacious, echoing arena buzzed with familiar faces and shout-outs between regulars. Yet, my heart hadn't truly been in it until today.

Sooyoung, my mom's younger sister, was a rush of color and energy among the monotonous machines. She'd shown up unannounced, eagerly wanting to join my workout routine. Her laughter filled the space, drawing unwanted eyes. I couldn't blame them; she was gorgeous, all curves and confident. But she was also my aunt, or so I kept reminding myself.

We started on the treadmills side by side, breaths syncing as our muscles warmed up. She kept chattering about the new coffee shop downstairs, her hands animated, grazing mine occasionally. Her fingers were soft, and her laughter infectious. I found myself leaning in, forgetting we were in public.

"Hey, watch it, Speed Racer," she teased, as I nearly collided with her when she suddenly stopped. Our faces were inches apart, her breath minty and warm. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, echoing hers. Then she did something unexpected—she winked, and my world tipped slightly.

Circuit training followed, and shared mats and weights led to near-misses and unintended touches. There was a tension building, electric and undeniable. Her boyfriend, what's-his-name, was far from her mind, or at least, she seemed to want me to think so. Each time our skin brushed, she'd linger, hold my gaze, bite her lip. Was this just our newfound fitness high, or something more?

She "accidentally" dropped the medicine ball in the middle of reps. I reached for it, and she did too, our fingers tangling, breasts pressing together. We froze. Her eyes were pools of brown smoke, drawing me in. Her lips parted, inviting. The world around us blurred. I could smell her, citrus and sweat and something uniquely Sooyoung.

Desire coursed through me, hot and primitive. I wanted to push her against the wall and kiss her till she melted. My cock hardened, throbbing against my gym shorts. She had to feel it pressed against her belly. She must have, because she gasped, her pupils dilating.

"Umm," I ranted out, finally breaking the spell. She laughed, a breathless, hungry sound, and picked up the ball. But her eyes never left mine, promising MORE.

We finished our workout in silence, tingling tension palpable between us. As we walked out, sweat-slicked and breathless, I glanced at her, my aunt, my Sooyoung. And I knew, tonight, we'd ignite.

Sooyoung was waiting for me at the gym entrance, her hair still damp from a post-work shower, her cheeks flushed with anticipation. "I thought we could use the studio tonight," she said, nodding towards the soundproof room reserved for private training sessions. My stomach fluttered. I knew what that room was used for, and it wasn't just push-ups and squats.

"I thought you had plans," I replied, trying to hide my eagerness. Her "plans" were her boyfriend, but we both knew that was a sham.

"I changed them," she smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. "You're more fun anyway." She grabbed my hand, leading me down the familiar hallway. My pulse quickened at her touch, her palm warm and smooth against mine. I could feel the pressure building, the temptation pushing against the boundaries of our relationship. But fuck it, I wanted her. And so did she.

The studio was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sweat and desire. She closed the door behind us, locking it with a decisive click. "Just in case anyone gets any ideas," she murmured, turning to me. Her eyes were hungry, devouring me whole. I couldn't help but smile, my body responding to her, my cock hardening in my workout shorts.

She stepped closer, her breath ragged. "You know, I've been thinking about you," she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw, neck, and chest. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves through me.

"Me too," I admitted, my voice hoarse with desire. I gripped her hips, pulling her against me. She gasped, feeling my hardness pressed against her stomach. Her eyes darkened, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Fuck, she was killing me.

She reached up, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling my mouth down to hers. Our lips crashed together, a fierce, desperate kiss. Tongues clashed, teeth clicked, and we groaned into each other's mouths. She tasted like mint and desire, and I couldn't get enough.

Her hands sliced under my shirt, nails digging into my back, marking me. I growled, cupping her ass, lifting her against me. Her legs wrapped around my waist, her heat pressing against my cock. Fuck, I needed more. I needed all of her.

I backed her against the mirrored wall, pressing her against it, grinding into her. She moaned, arching her back, pushing her tits against my chest. I trailed my mouth down her neck, biting, sucking, marking her as mine. Her hands fisted in my hair, holding me there, urging me on.

I grabbed the hem of her top, pulling it off smoothly. Her breasts spilled out, glorious and round, straining against the lace of her bra. I captured one nipple in my mouth, sucking hard, while my fingers rolled and tugged at the other. She cried out, her head falling back against the wall, her breath coming in short gasps.

I slipped my hand into her shorts, finding her wet and ready. She moaned as my fingers slipped inside her, my thumb rubbing her clit. She was so fucking hot, so fucking ready. I could feel her pulsing around my fingers, her juices coating my hand.

"Fuck, Jae," she gasped, her hips moving in time with my hand. "More. I need more."

I removed my fingers, licking them clean, tasting her sweetness. She watched, her eyes wide and wanton. I unbuttoned my shorts, pushing them down, my cock springing free. She leaned forward, her lips wrapping around me, taking me deep. I groaned, my hands fisting in her hair, guiding her.

But I needed more. I needed to be inside her. I pulled her up, turning her around to face the mirror. She braced her hands against it, looking at me over her shoulder, her eyes fiery. I pushed her shorts down, her ass round and firm. I rubbed my cock against her, coating it with her juices. Then, holding her gaze, I pushed inside.

We both gasped, our eyes locked in the mirror. I gripped her hips, pulling out slowly, then slamming back in. She moaned, meeting my thrusts, pushing back against me. The room filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together, our moans and gasps, the scent of sweat and sex.

I reached around, finding her clit, rubbing it in time with my thrusts. She cried out, her body tensing, her inner muscles pulsing around me. "Come for me, Sooyoung," I growled. "Come all over my cock."

And she did, her body shaking, her mind screaming. I thrust into her once, twice more, then groaned, releasing inside her, filling her up.

We stayed like that momentarily, our bodies pressed together, our breathing ragged. In the mirror, I could see the Mark of my mouth on her neck, her breasts heaving, her eyes closed in sated pleasure. She leaned back against me, her body pliant.

"This is a dangerous game we're playing, Sooyoung," I whispered, my lips against her ear.

"I know," she replied, turning her head to kiss me. "But fuck it. I've always loved a good challenge."

And with that, she pushed away from the mirror, ready for round two. I smiled, my body already responding. This night was far from over.

We stumbled into the gym's far corner, away from the late-night stragglers, our bodies still feverish from the studio. Sooyoung's nipples were hard, visible through her sports bra, and her face flushed. She pushed me against the wall, her hands eager, finding the waistband of my compression shorts.

"Fuck, Jae," she breathed, her fingers wrapping around my cock. "I need this. Need you." Her voice was a growl, primal and hungry.

I groaned, my head falling back against the wall, as she sank to her knees. She looked up at me, her brown eyes filled with debris of desire, then leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the bead of pre-cum from my tip. I shuddered, my hands fisting her hair.

"So greedy," I muttered, my voice ragged.

She smirked, opening her mouth wide, taking me in. I groaned, my hips bucking slightly, fucking her mouth. She took me deep, her gag reflex nonexistent, her nose brushing against my groin. Fuck, she was incredible. I could feel my balls tightening, my orgasm building.

Just as I was about to explode, she pulled back, a string of saliva connecting us. She stood, wiping her mouth, smirking. "Not yet," she said, her voice sultry. "I have other plans."

She stepped back, pulling her shorts down, her ass bare, her pussy glistening. She turned around, facing the wall, presenting herself to me. "Fuck me, Jae," she said, her voice ragged. "Hard."

I growled, grabbing her hips, positioning myself at her entrance. I pushed in, hard and fast, making her cry out. She went back against me, her ass slapping against my pelvis. We found our rhythm, our bodies moving in sync, the sound of our flesh slapping together filling the quiet corner of the gym.

"Fuck, Sooyoung," I groaned, my fingers digging into her hips. "You feel so good." She moaned, her inner muscles pulsing around me. I could feel her close, her body tensing, her breathing ragged.

Suddenly, her phone rang, the sound harsh and intrusive. She paused, her body still, her orgasm interrupted. "Ignore it," I gritted out, thrusting into her again. She gasped, her body responding, but her eyes were on the phone, a crease forming between her brows.

She reached for it, her voice breathless as she answered. "Hey, what's up?" I could hear the deep baritone of her boyfriend on the other line, his voice annoyed. She listened, her face losing some of its then lust, her body still impaled on mine.

"Yeah, I'll be home soon," she said, her voice normal but her expression detached. She hung up and turned to me, her eyes filled with turmoil.

"Well, that was a buzzkill," I muttered, pulling out of her. She nodded, her arms wrapping around herself, her body suddenly guarded.

"I need to go," she said, her voice distant. "I'll just...clean up."

She walked away, leaving me standing there, my cock still hard, my brain muddled. I leaned against the wall, taking a few deep breaths, willing my body to cooperate. This game was getting messy, and I wasn't sure I liked it. But fuck, she was addictive, and I wanted more.

As I was about to leave, I saw her. She was bent over, washing her hands in the sink, her shorts still around her ankles. Her ass was a thing of beauty, round and firm, her pussy still glistening with our juices. I couldn't help myself. I walked up behind her, grabbed her hips, and plunged back inside her.

She gasped, her body tensing, then relaxing, accepting me. "Jae, what are you doing?" she moaned, her head falling forward, her hair hiding her face.

"Fucking you," I growled, my hips moving. "Ignoring reality. Just like you wanted."

She moaned, her body responding, her ass pushing back against me. I gripped her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck. I licked and bit, marking her, claiming her. She shuddered, her body tensing, her orgasm building again.

I felt mine coming too, my body coiled tight, my breath ragged. "Come for me, Sooyoung," I grunted, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing it. "Come all over my cock."

She did, her body shaking, her inner muscles pulsing around me. I thrust into her once, twice more, then groaned, releasing inside her, filling her up, marking her.

We stayed there momentarily, our bodies pressed together, our breathing ragged. Then I pulled out, tucking myself back into my shorts. She stood, turning to face me, her eyes filled with tenderness and regret.

"I should go," she whispered, her voice soft.

I nodded, my heart aching. "Yeah. Me too."

But as we walked away, I knew this wasn't over. Not by a long shot. And we'd be back here, in this gym, fucking like animals, ignoring the world. Because, fuck, it was good. It was too good to stop now.

[aoflameandco]

Netflix DanteLady: in depth analysis

I ship Dante and Lady. And it makes really hard to miss a big controversy, surrounding the Netflix version of characters. There's a lot of negativity out there, and while I see some valid points, my shipper heart absolutely disagrees with the harsh takes on DanLady's development. So let's break it down and highlight some nice things about this particular interpretation of our beloved ship.

Warning:

1) This post treats the Netflix anime as its own thing. I'm not comparing the show's DanLady to the game's DanLady maybe some references aside bc imho it would request another big meta and a couple more Seasons to make a fair judgment.

2) The analysis mainly focuses on the scenes that Dante and Lady share together. The show also likes to draw parallels between them, but once again, I'd need another big meta to cover that. maybe one day

3) I call Lady "Mary", bc that's who she is from her POV right now. I like Lady better too and know the dmc3 nuances, but the show didn't reach the point yet.

Starting from the bottom

She hated demons with a passion. He exterminated them with joy. So much in common and yet — a shared distaste for the demonkind caused an all-time-low first impression.

But things looked fun at first! At least from Dante's POV. Just when the party seemed to be almost over, another pretty guest flew through his window. There's no doubt that Dante was having a blast, dominating the entire battlefield, so he accepted his new challenger eagerly, his wild grins don't lie.

Too bad, Mary was a woman with a mission. Careful calculation behind every move. Strategy instead of brute force. If her theory is correct, it's the only way she can win. And she succeeds, securing the amulet. The soldier's cold mask falls for a second, revealing how much she enjoys being in control after Dante carelessly underestimated her.

Jokes are over, Dante is pissed and Enzo's suggestive remarks the og captain of the ship don't help either. He doesn't care about the pretty thief, all he wants is to keep his sacred promise and return his precious necklace.

And so the battle for dominance begins. The episode emphasizes that Dante and Mary are birds of a feather. Both smirk when they think they have situation under control, about to catch their prey. It's not a sweet kind of smirk, they're serious and even manage to cause minor damage, but Mary wins this round by introducing an anti-demon weapon Dante never saw before.

Time to test the demon theory. Which completely takes Dante by surprise. No wonder, the whole animation looks rather suggestive, if we ignore Mary's gun pointed right at him. But that's not what confuses Dante the most, it's Mary's words. A mere thought of him being a demon is quite insulting, so he immediately laughs at her failure, hiding his own stupor behind cheeky jokes.

But this lady is too smart for her own good. She continues her musings, so deep in thought that she loses her grip, and Dante is quick to use it against her. His ruthlessness gives another hint that she has touched on a sensitive topic, triggering him further.

Mary immediately retreats, most likely blaming herself for relaxing in front of such a cunning foe. Her jumps and blasts are more uncoordinated than usual, she clearly panics and Dante has to save her at the last second from his own counterattack.

And he's still mad and demanding answers. Although the scene clearly references "my type of rain" this Dante is in no mood for flirting. The gentleman dies: he slams Mary's wrists against the wall, ignoring the close proximity he created, yanking her body like a rag doll, when she touches his nerve.

To Mary's honor, she keeps her cool even cornered, this time determined to overpower her opponent mentally. Dante's anger makes it easier, yet her cocky pocker face falls under his touch. That's really not her type of "getting personal", though he walked right into her trap.

The whole scene radiates the hateful tension that is clearly mutual. Both are a bit too petty. For example, Dante takes offense at Mary's implication that he's a brainless demon and he immediately rubs her current helpless situation in her face. Only for Mary to strike back a minute later. A great uno-game, what to say.

Slightly touching on the topic of power scaling: nope, the show doesn't make Mary stronger than Dante. Even though currently she's way down on his favorite people list, Dante has no intention to kill her, because: A) He got his morals and B) He seeks information, which she processes. And Mary thanks to the extra ammo and lack of moral limits takes full advantage of it.

Dante's hot anger subsides the next morning. Maybe because he's had time to calm down, maybe bacause Enzo's presence provides him sort of comfort their bond is truly wholesome. Either way, he decides to stand his ground, calmly denying all the demon allegations.

Meanwhile Mary's cold hatred has grown. After nearly failing the exam she did her homework — this damn hellblood won't ever get the upper hand over her. Mary demonstratively ignores Dante's small talks, turns away whenever he opens his mouth, takes every opportunity to punish him for his silly escape tactics, bluntly dehumanizes him referring to him as a "thing".

While, yeah, Mary is being a bitch in this episode, the reason behind it isn't just a sore victory. Dante is ruining her simple world. Demons are bad. But Dante is acting like a deviant, so human-like, Mary can't help but think that he's up to something. She doesn't believe in his ignorance, she tries to warn Baines that even a half-demon is a demon and doesn't deserve any special treatment. And she surely is annoyed that Dante denies his blood and has a sad backstory, quite similar to her own. Nope, she won't succumb to this demon's manipulations.

Yet, despite her cold facade, Mary isn’t as heartless as she pretends to be. After Rabbit's attack she pauses for a second to make sure her prisoners are in fact fine, before running to her teammates. And for someone who was so enthusiastic about the bomb in Dante's neck, she certainly seems a little too concerned when she realizes he’s crossed the one-mile radius.

Still at this point of story DanLady are bitter strangers. Dante isn't one to hold long grudges (given his dynamic with Enzo), but Mary's hostility doesn't help his insecurity about his origins. Meanwhile her prejudice prevents her from seeing him for who he is. They both value the amulet above all else, so they spare no extra though for each other, before diving into their own separate arcs. Which change their perception of demons forever.

Change of heart

Next reunion highlights the progress both Dante and Mary have made. She has realized that the world isn't black and white, there're different types of demons out there, even those she can't consider her enemies. And he has faced the truth, came to terms with his father's heritage and been forced to see the world through the eyes of a demon himself.

The character's journey greatly affects their dynamic. Mary doesn't hesitate to save Dante from Rudra. And Dante immediately confesses that she was right about him all along. Burying the hatchet of their first disagreement, they slowly learn to compromise.

Mary lowers her gun once Dante confirms that he won't transform again. Given how wary she was of his human form before, the new info about his power-up would naturally raise her alertness, but she trusts his words now. Besides, she isn't afraid of him, she's pretty comfortable with his harsh truths duh, she already figured it out And that means a lot to Dante, who's still struggling with self-acceptance.

Still having his head blown up might be quite a painful experience, and Dante can't help but tease about her change of approach. Mary simply rolls her eyes, but still accepts him as a reluctant ally, untill the amulet tears them apart.

The first sort of teamwork estabilishes who's the braines and who's the brawn. Dante certainly prefers a direct confrontation while Mary engages in a battle of wits with Rabbit. Still, it's impossible not to notice her distressed state, and even though Dante feels awkward witnessing it, he doesn't walk away as soon as he is instructed to work solo. In fact, he pays attention to the smallest shifts of her mood.

His attentiveness and demonic instincts save Mary's life. He cradles her close to his chest, shielding from the blast. Mary certainly has no time to react when he jumps through the window with her in his arms. Looking very mad. No wonder, his strength keeps being tested, but he's determined not to let anyone die on his watch.

Mary wakes up to find herself in a rather compromising position. Dante groans beneath her, for the first time she sees his face so close. And she's mesmerized, his soft surprised gaze doesn't help either. It's a very short lived moment of vulnerability between them, where they're stripped of their confident, smug demeanor. A blush covers her cheeks, and Mary rushes to break the magic, too afraid of the unspoken feeling that has arisen between them.

While this scene surely echoes the classic tsundere trope, Mary's reaction is easy to understand. She's a soldier, a tough one, who can't afford the luxury of weakness. Dante's existence was already confusing enough, and she'd just come to terms with his not-so-bad demon side — but feeling something for him? No, no, no, that's taboo! And so she lashes out at him in frustration.

Dante's reaction is slower. To his credit, he took the brunt of the fall on his own back, which hurts even with his healing, but the grimace of pain magically disappears when he meets her eyes. Unfortunately, he gets no time to enjoy the view, because his face meets her palm too quickly. There she's, the lady he knows, brutal and rather ungrateful, not that he expected a thank you. Well, his pout might tell other story.

Still, his soft spot for Mary is clear as day when he tries to console her about the fallen soldiers. She is also a good listener and Dante confides in her so easily, telling her about his father and the mission he intends to inherit from him. Too bad, she has other plans.

Another disagreement emerges between the pair. Both believe that Rabbit is their personal nemesis, while the other party should stay away from him. The truth is that both are wrong, bc the Rabbit's heart is big enough to hate both Darkcom and Sparda.

Anyway, while Mary's "courtesy" is definitely not for every court, she doesn't knock Dante down, even though it would've been more convenient for her plan. But at this point, she definitely sees him a person. A person she struggles to reason with, heck, the "demonic dumbass".

Dante, who just can't catch a break with his lady, is very unamused by the following development. But instead of anger, his expression is closer to despair. As if it's not just a matter of a stolen fight, but also the fear that someone will die in his place. Again. Eventually, he'll be able to break free from the truck, but who knows, if Mary will be alive by then.

In this end, this small arc points the growing attachment between the two. Mary's presence and honest approach help Dante grapple with his own insecurities, and it's clear how much he needs someone to lean on in his vulnerable moments. Meanwhile, Mary realizes that the guy in front of her is too pure for his own good, far from the cunning demon she imagined. His kindness and relatable family values keep messing with her head, but she shields her heart, knowing full well that his careless actions put the entire world in danger.

Back to back

Mary's change of heart doesn't escape Rabbit's attention. No matter how indifferent she tries to sound, using Dante's life as a bargain, her opponent calls her bluff. Without even realizing it, Mary lets it slip by using Dante's name and considering him a part of both species. The fact that she never planned to detonate the real truck adds to the point. Even though from her POV the human world would have been saved without Dante around he'd have probably survived it though and she was never into Baines' idea of using him as a weapon, she just can't. He's no longer a "thing," not an evil demon to her.

Mary's plan was quite self-destructive from the start, but lucky her, her knight in the red armor is punctual. Once again Dante saves her, giving her a cocky grin, a silent "told ya". Instead of gratutude he gets a groan from the paralyzed Mary. Of course, she's furious because he ignored her warnings again and walked right into a trap.

Mary hates being helpless, but she underestimates how much her mere presence helps Dante. He remembers Eva's words about Sparda just by looking at her. In this moment, Lady embodies the world he wants to protect. Her voice of reason is his wake up call, she drives his doubts away, leaving Rabbit no chance to use Dante's insecurities against him.

Mary does her best to be useful. She warns Dante about the poisoned blades and breaks through her paralysis to join the fight. But she still isn't strong enough, causing Dante to worry sick about her. Since this episode his protectiveness reaches a new level.

After the fight Mary reaches him, noticing, that he's again troubled by Rabbit's words. And she talks about his mother's necklace. It's a small thing, but she doesn't call it an "amulet" — instead, she understands and points out the special meaning this victory has for Dante personally.

Given this, it is no wonder that Dante looks extremely happy when Mary confirms that she will not take his amulet anymore. Too bad, both misunderstood each other. Dante is full of hope, that Lady has accepted him as the best protector. Mary — confident that Dante has understood the danger and will cooperate willingly from now on.

That's where their third conflict blossoms. But unlike the previous ones — about the demon nature or the Rabbit fight — this one lacks the edge and feels like a flirting banter. Especially if you watch their body language and face expressions closely, both are challenging each other, clearly enjoying the tension. The changes Enzo the og captain of the ship immediately notices and points bluntly. Funnily enough, none of the two try to beat allegations.

At this point Dante uses "we" heavily, viewing himself and Mary as an inseparable team, after everything they went through. His childishness is contagious and Mary finds herself engaging in his silly points, arguing about their saving score. Still, she reminds him that's she is a part of Darkcom and that's not just a matter between them two.

Dante's sympathy for Lady doesn't apply to her organization at all, and their opinions on Baines' methods clash. Ironically enough, Baines decides to play a harsh boss right afer Mary defends his honor. But Dante isn't one to watch how his lady get reprimanded in front of him. Besides, he realizes that he's the main cause of her struggles, and quickly covers for them both with a lie. Mary, still visibly torn, agrees and doesn't reveal that the amulet is in fact in his pocket.

However, Baines sets the stage to make the choice between heart and duty even more difficult. Once again the Lieutenant Mary Ann Arkham is acting out of character, questioning orders and hesitating to take the "demon" in custody. For someone who teased Dante about blusting his haircut a minute ago, Mary looks terribly hurt when she actually gets an opportunity to do so.

The inevitable confrontation gets cancelled by the mutated Rabbit, who gives DanLady a chance to show the best of their teamwork. Without hesitation Mary entrusts Dante with her gun, but his unholy strength quickly breaks her gear. They even find time to bicker about it, between the shooting and strategizing. Dante's face doesn't look very remorseful though, it seems he enjoys being scolded by her.

But his confident smirk vanishes immediately when his partner gets hurt. Once again, Dante can't hide his fear of losing Lady. Her life has skyrocketed to the top of his priorities: after the helicopter crash the first thing he does is checking on her, rather than securing his precious necklace.

Mary is hard to kill though. Not only does she always rise up, but also comes to Dante's aid at the most critical moments. She pays her debts, saving him twice. Finding the strength to pilot a helicopter and fire the last anti-demon bullet, when Dante is cornered. His influence on her is hard to deny when she adapts his famous catchphrase for her final shot.

The way they look at each other after the enemy is defeated speaks volumes. They won and saved the world, working together. Quite a solid foundation for a bond.

Sunrise finds them together on the bridge, the shortest distance between them. Mary consoles Dante over Enzo's death, at this point perfectly understanding how much the loss affects him. She sees right through his cheerful facade and when Dante tries to escape with another joke, she opens up to him too. The honesty is mutual and Dante tells her of his latest discovery: his brother may be alive. Finding Vergil becomes his primary goal. But suddenly Dante, the former lone wolf Dante, who didn't want anyone to pry into his family's affairs — invites Lady to come with him.

This is not something Mary ever expected, her expression softening, surprise evident in her eyes. Dante doesn't give her a break, immediately coming up with the name for their future duo. It all makes sense from his perspective, they fight great together, they complement each other, they share similar regrets, they'll make it work. The only snag is the order of their names and Dante laughs heartily, looking genuinely happy for once.

Little did he know about the turmoil his Lady was going through at that moment. Her weak smile dies with their silly argument and shifts into a somber expression. And she does what her duty requires, looking absolutely heartbroken.

The disbelief on Dante's face doesn't make Mary's explanation any easier. Yet, as he falls, we see Lady from his slowly blurring POV — and it's not the face of a traitor, but the small lost figure of someone who regrets this outcome deeply. Her guilt echoes in her apologize, which, sadly, he can no longer hear.

Their last crucial disagreement finally comes to light. Mary has witnessed the danger of a demon invasion first-hand, so she can't let Dante and his amulet go on another risky adventure, especially knowing how unstoppable he'll be with his newfound motivation. And even though Mary the person clearly sympathizes with Dante's passion, Mary the soldier makes the final decision. However, it immediately backfires, because it's Baines who throws the safety of their world into the trashcan.

Well, long story short, it's hard to deny how much the bond between Dante and Mary has changed over the course of the first season. From bitter enemies to reluctant allies to ride-or-die comrades. All with a tension in the air that the show isn't shy about calling romantic. And yet, Netflix DanLady takes a complicated, but realistic route.

Lady doesn't join Dante at the end of the day, and they don't walk into sunrise hand in hand. After all, they've only known each other barely more than a day. That was enough to develop a great sense of understanding and care for each other, but not enough to give up their old lives. Both still in the middle of their character arcs. Mary isn't ready to be Dante's Lady yet, but her trust in Darkcom is clearly crumbling. Dante's straightforward approach would've result in the world's collapse if Mary hadn't cover for him, he still needs to learn to be less reckless. And the next Season looks very promising for both of their arcs, which will clearly collide at some point and take their relationship to the next level.

Thanks for reading till the end! Of course, this analysis is nothing but my personal interpretation. I'd love to hear your thoughts too! What do you love about Netflix DanteLady? Are you looking forward to Lady's "redemption"? What do you expect from Tony Redgrave? Please, let me know 😌

[mykoreanlove]

submissive

Y/N...

I'm thinking of you laying there on the kingsize bed of a dimly lit room, in your flirty little plaid skirt just waiting for someone to take you.

I start slowly getting closer to you starring you down, letting you know just how bad I want you. Can you feel the intensity of my gaze?You start to feel the tension in the room escalating and I can hear your breathing pattern changing. I’m now just next to you, I start softly running my hand up the inside of your leg, inner thigh, so soft, all the way to your stomach. Your cute little stomach.

I pause, take a glimpse at you, I want to see how you’re reacting to my tender touch. We briefly lock eyes and that’s my signal, your insistant lustful gaze has betrayed you. You haven’t uttered a single word but your body has now made it clear, you’re enjoying this moment and you sure as hell don’t want this to stop.

So I pick up where I left at, I start to run my hand on your body once more reaching for your hips, I lean my head closer to yours, gaze at your face for awhile. I slowly run my other hand trough your silk hair, down your neck and shoulder. Your skin feels so soft.

I decide to play with the strap of your lace bra for a while, trying to figure out if I should take it off just now, as I push your strap to the side of your shoulder. And in that moment, as I begin to undress you, you start to feel particularly vulnerable, the intimacy of the moment is very shooting, isn’t it?

As I make my way up your upper back with my hand, you start to blush, your cheeks are turning red and you are submerged by a wave of burning desire, and you probably haven’t even noticed but your hips instinctively moved closer to me, y/n.

I have you stand up for me as I begin to wonder just how to dispose of you.

Should I start by making my way up, slowly grazing the exterior of your thighs with the back of my hand ?

Or perhaps I should start by standing firmly in front of you, pinning you up against the wall, staring you right in the eyes.

Yeah.. I like the sound of that.

So I get real close to you, you start to take a step back. I keep trying to get closer and you match my pace, for every step forward I take, you take one backwards. Our eyes are locked and you start to grin because you know what’s coming next, it’s almost like we’re dancing really.

But now I have you cornered, your back’s against the hard wall. So I lean in real close to you, guide your arms above your head, let out a couple of warm heavy breathes onto your neck. Do you feel the goosebumps?

You have me seduced, I can barely contain myself. Having you there hands up against the wall, it’s a bliss but you realize there's no going back. It's just you and me baby girl, in that moment you become entirely mine.

I have you spread your legs open for me, just a little bit.

I’m taking my time with you, contemplating that beautiful body of yours.

You're eye candy to me, and I'd make sure you know that by the way I looked at you. Let you know how every single one of your curves draws me just a little bit closer to the edge.

Y/N...

I’m thinking about just how hard it is for me to contain myself, but you're worth it, I want to take all the time in the world for you.

I take your cheek in the palm of my hand and slowly move my lips closer to yours, only to deny you of that kiss at the last moment and get close to your ear.

Whisper something along the lines of:

"you know.. I'm really enjoying this. Knowing that you're mine to take. Having your body under my control, all of you, at the mercy of my touch. Yeah that's right, I want you to surrender your body to me, surrender to my touch, precious."

Of course I'd have started to run my fingers around the string of your panties, playing around with them, teasing you.

Y/N...

Should I push them aside and reach for the promised land like your body is begging me to do ? Or should I continue to tease you and just pull your panties upward just a bit, have them spread your lips open for me..?

Y/N...

What do you want me to do?

[authorsofghosts]

Club in Love | Morph x Reader

Summery: Morph decides to take you out on Valentine's Day since you're both dateless. Of course, they think the best place to go on a date for two mutants like yourselves is the club.

Themes: Fluff -> Angst -> Fluff, Confessions, Mutual Crush, Open Ending, Clubbing, Drinking, (Slight) Drug Mention, Morph does Morph things, Morph doesn't use their Birth Name, Reader is a mutant/X-Man (no powers written), Wolverine cameo.

Word Count: 1.5k (not proofread)

"Come on, we're not gonna make it for the 'Couples Get in Free' hour if you have to spend thirty minutes just picking an outfit." Morph laughs, creeping ever so slightly closer.

"We're not a couple, Morph." You laugh out softly, shaking your head as you took out some shirts to look at them.

"Not yet," They smirk, getting closer and poking your cheek. As you go to protest, they grin wider. "I'm kidding, come on. It was funny."

"No, it wasn't." You mumble, remembering the fact that the only reason you agreed to do this was both of you were painfully single. Morph's smile drops as they see you lost in thought, quickly trying to figure out how to cheer you up.

"Hey, just think of it as a..." They start, pausing to tap their chin in thought, trying to find the right words. "A special Co-Ops mission. I mean, the best mutant on the team for having to undercover is moi, huh?"

Morph spins, with their hands in the air, switching between different forms and disguises, finally resting on their 'Public Face'.

"Come on, it can't be that hard to pick an outfit."

"Says the person who can shapeshift into any outfit they want." You grumble, shoving them away.

They laugh softly, smiling as they lean against the wall. Finally picking an outfit, you shoo Morph away to get dressed. As you walk out of your room, you hear a low whistle. "Morph-"

"Non, non, cher." You hear and see Gambit, but know better. "You look magnifique, chouchou."

"Morph."

"Fiiine." They laugh, transforming back into themselves. "You're not fun."

"I am, but not when it comes to you trying to seduce me or whatever with our friend's faces." You shake your head, grabbing your stuff and making your way to the stairs. "Come on, 'partner'."

"Is that a cowboy joke or a date joke?"

"If I said date joke you'd be happy, so it's a cowboy joke."

You stomp down the stairs of the mansion, rolling your eyes as you laugh with Morph. Before you can make it to the door, Logan steps out in front of you both "W'ere the hell do you two think yer goin'?"

"Relax, we're going to the club. You coming with?" Morph smiles. "Or are you gonna sulk and whimper like last year." They snicker.

"Morph, be nice-" You say, quickly being cut off by the chuckle of Logan, making you quickly turn your attention back to the gruff man.

"No, they're right. But I ain't going to yer fancy club, Morph. I'd rather stay 'ere tonight. Thanks though."

Morph pats Logan's back, tsking softly, "There isn't anything 'fancy' about it other than the way it overstimulates you with all the flashing, multicolored lights. But I promise it'd be much chiller since, you know, they're trying to draw in couples for their jacked up drink prices tonight."

You watch as they try to convince Logan to come, but there really wasn't much getting through to him. Not today, at least. "Well, you kid's have fun. I'mma get some shut eye." He finally grunted out, walking off.

"Welp, that's our queue, I assume, to get going. You know?" Morph laughed softly, pointing towards the front door.

"Mhm." You prompt, walking forward and paying them no mind. For someone who was just flirting with you, or so you think, they sure did ignore you for about five minutes. So clearly, they can't like you like that for real, right?

You don't see it, but their face drops as you walk out the mansion. "Shit-" Them mutter to themselves. Quickly running up to you, they wrap an arm around you and grin. "Oh, come on, don't get sour before we get Lemon Drops. Or maybe something stronger? Oooo, maybe one of those overpriced Valentine's Day themed drinks."

Morph shifts to their public face, opening the passenger side door and bows slightly. This causes you to chuckle out, shaking your head and flashing a soft smile in their direction. This satisfies them enough to shake off their mini-dread.

As you pull up to the club, Morph looks around at the crowded line outside. "Shit, really? No way there's this many people just cause tonight's so marketable." They chuckle, leaning against you with an arm on your shoulder.

"You'd be surprised how normal, happy people like this holiday." You mumble in a half-sarcastic laugh.

"Normal, happy people?" They repeat, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Non-superheroes fighting off whatever the fuck? People who don't have the stress of protecting the whole world?"

"Oh." They grimace, looking at you softly. "Let's try to not think about that, huh? Come on, I'll buy you whatever drink you want." They smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Come on, just act natural." They mumble, walking closer to the bouncer.

"Yeah, yeah." You shake your head smiling, leaning into their touch. You feel them tense for a slight moment before relaxing. They press a soft kiss to your forehead in sight of the bouncer, then lean over to whisper in your ear.

"Don't be such a grouchy pants. We're supposed to look like a couple."

You blush slightly, looking away as the people in front of you step into the club. Morph grabs your hand and pulls you forward.

You enter the club and are immediately met with red light instead of the normal multicolored flashing. "See, I told Logan it'd be calmer tonight. There's just more people."

"Yeah, Logan doesn't like people neither." You laugh, walking over to the bar with them. "Any drink, huh?"

"Any drink." Morph repeats. "We could share, you know. They got couple's drinks or whatever."

"We're not-" You start, looking at the size of the couple drinks tat two people are sharing at the other end of the bar. "Okay maybe. Those are like... five times the size of my fist."

They chuckle softly, shaking their head. "I'll order us one."

You both sit at the bar, sipping on the drink. It's some kind of strawberry vodka cocktail, and if you were being honest? It was amazing.

You go to sip from your straw and find your face only a few inches away from Morph's. You awkwardly laugh and pull back, but that only makes them smirk wide. "Don't be shy now. I mean, we have to pretend to be dating to not get kicked out. What's a little eye contact gonna do?"

You puff your cheeks out, slightly annoyed by how nonchalant they are about this. Taking up on their challenge, you lean back and take a sip of the drink as they do. That's when it finally hits you.

The alcohol that is.

The soft, red lights in the club feel a lot heavier than before and as you look in Morph's eyes, they almost shimmer. Your cheeks heat up and you can't help but look at them, really look at them.

They usual confident, almost a little bit snarky person is taken aback slightly at the change in your demeanor, letting out a laugh that was easily readable as nervous. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Feeling, uh... Peachy." You say, slurring your words despite how slowly you were speaking.

"Oh, you're a lightweight aren't you. Fuuuck, I'm gonna have to babysit you? No, not happening. We're going home."

"No, what? Come on, what happened to having fun?" You ask, a wide, almost goofy grin on your face. You stand up, taking another quick sip of the large cup before pulling them by the hand. "Let's dance."

"Woah- okay, okay, I'm coming." They laugh, shaking their head but following. Whenever you get on the floor, the song playing is lively, about drugs and sex, like most music. You watch Morph's face distort slightly with worry.

"What's wrong?" You slur out, getting a little bit closer to Morph.

"Well, I usually... I usually dance while, you know Morphing. Shifting to different forms with each flash of the lights, cause it's... " They trail off, the song ending.

"It's cool. You're cool." You say, your eyes flickering around.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Did you just say I'm cool?" Morph laughs, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Well- I mean, yeah." You say, your cheeks heating up slightly. For what reason, you have no idea. It's not like you....

Shit.

Fuck.

You laugh, shaking your head, "I mean, what's wrong with saying your cool?"

They smile, eyes lighting up as the next song that's playing in the club is a slow, romantic one. Almost... bedroom-y. "You wanted to dance, right?" Morph asks, putting out their hand.

You look down at their hand, even in your drunken state, understanding where this is going. You take it, yelping out and laughing as they pull you closer, wrapping a hand around your waist. "Hey!"

"Then we're dancing." They say just for your ears.

Morph sways you from side to side slowly, in rhythm with the song. You're a little starstruck, flabbergasted even, at the moment. They put their cheek against yours, smirking. "You're blushing."

"N-no." You stammer, shaking your head.

"You're either extremely tipsy, orrrr... did you find something out?"

"Maybe. Both. Probably both." You mumble. Morph laughs softly, pulling you closer.

"That's alright. Was gonna tell you anyways." They say, forehead against yours.

You pull back slightly, "Huh? Tell me what?" You ask, eyes widening. "You like me, too?"

"Too?" They laugh, shaking their head for a moment. "You like me back?"

"Yeah, no, I just realized this, how long have you liked me???"

"Shit-"

[vickyvicarious]

3. cold hands in warm hands Jonathan+Quincey

6 October, morning.

"I shall not wait for any opportunity," Quincey said fiercely. "When I see the box I shall open it and destroy the monster, though there were a thousand men looking on, and if I am to be wiped out for it the next moment!"

Almost before he had finished speaking, Harker stepped up to him and reached out to clasp his hand. His grip was strong, his eyes blazing, and in that moment a solemn promise was agreed upon between the two of them without a single word spoken. They were in agreement: neither of them would let any chance slip by. This Count would die at their hands, no matter the cost.

It was no longer any real surprise at this point, but Quincey still found himself thinking it again: there's the man who made it out of that castle.

After Van Helsing finished speaking, all the men turned to disperse. Quincey stood behind for a moment or two, lost in thought. He had less to arrange than the others. Watching over Art after his father and fiancee's death, he'd taken a notion - and then an afternoon - to update his own will. He hadn't known exactly why, then. The musing over where the blood had gone had reminded him of the Pampas, sure, but he hadn't truly expected anything like what was to come. He'd just seen all Arthur had to deal with, and thought to smooth the path back home should the unexpected come to pass.

For all that everything had changed in the past few days, not much about his affairs would stand any different now. The only exception, perhaps, was the man whose oath he now shared, and that excellent, kind lady to which he was married. Perhaps he should add a proviso for their sake as well.

Thinking of the couple got Quincey's feet moving, and he quickly moved down the hallway. He caught up just before Harker stepped back into his own room, calling out to him.

"Might I have a word before you go?"

"Of course, Mr. Morris. What can I do for you?" He turned away from the door, his hand slipping off the handle.

"Pardon me for this, but," Quincey said, reaching out to grasp that hand before it fell to the man's side, "it's more yourself."

"I... don't understand," Harker said, his tone mildly confused. He didn't pull his hand away, but Quincey noticed him sliding a foot back an inch, firming his back to the wall. He looked straight up into Quincey's eyes.

"I couldn't help but notice," Quincey said. He reached up to fold both his palms around Harker's hand, squeezing a little. Hopefully sharing a bit of warmth.

Harker's hand was ice-cold between his fingers. He knew he ran a little hotter than most, but still he'd noticed the chill the moment they'd touched. Harker's face was pale, his eyes fierce but tired, all color washed out of his hair. For the past three days, he'd been moving about as if there was lightning running down his spine; a deep well of crackling energy barely hidden within his body, and rising almost to the surface whenever talk turned to their foe. Quincey respected it like anything. And yet...

"I apologize if I'm poking my nose where it isn't wanted. But I'd like to suggest you take it easy, today. Join your wife in her rest." Quincey rubbed the hand between his a little, drawing Harker's gaze and attention down to the point of contact between them. "We'll need all our strength when the time comes."

There was a long pause before Harker spoke.

"Thank you," he said, very quietly, eyes still on Quincey's hands. He looked back up again before going on: "I will try to keep that in mind."

His eyes were cold, too. Not heartless, just the opposite - all the heart within him set so firmly on his goal that everything else froze over. A deadly storm, just waiting to break loose, an intention sharp as a knife. Quincey felt a little hint of that lightning slip between them, settling against his own spine.

He let go, confident that Harker understood. The man might need a reminder or two in the days to come, but he'd make it through without collapsing prematurely. He'd do what it took to be there at the end, and he'd be ready when it came.

"That was all," Quincey said, stepping back. He nodded with a smile, and Harker smiled back. It was a small enough one, but that it was there at all was probably enough.

He headed off further down the hall, but didn't go right to his own room. He'd add the Harkers in, sure enough, but the worst eventualities could wait a little longer. First, he'd like to do something to help them before that day. They'd be heading out in the morning; that gave him an afternoon to find what he needed.

After it was all over, Mrs. Harker would probably want to write up their stories again. He'd seen that typewriter of hers, and surely there was something in London better-suited to bring along. And her husband... well, perhaps he could use a pair of gloves.

.

5 November, evening.

Harker wasn't wearing his gloves. Quincey had seen him wearing them when he set out with Art, so he didn't know why not today. Maybe he, too, had gotten hot during the headlong chase.

He must have, Quincey decided, because his ungloved hands felt so warm. He could feel one behind his head, supporting him, and one was reaching down over his own hand, pressing hard into his side.

It hurt. It hurt like nothing he'd ever felt, but Quincey didn't mind. Because he was cold, and getting colder. It was funny how the blood against his hand felt so hot, when his hand itself was trembling from the cold. Maybe it wasn't that Harker's hand was warm, but just his own that was cold.

Mrs. Harker's hand was warm, too. So warm around his other hand, and her eyes were welling up with tears, but full of life as well, for the first time in so long. He smiled to comfort her before the end came.

But it was all right. Wracked with shivers as he was, he didn't mind. The cost was paid. They'd agreed on that, and if anyone had to pay it, better he than...

It was good Harker wasn't wearing his gloves. The fabric would be clean later, not stained with the blood leaking out around both their fingers no matter how hand they pressed on the wound. Clean like Mrs. Harker's forehead, smooth and unblemished. Thank God. Thank God, that was truly a gift to see!

"I am only too happy to have been of any service! Oh, God!" he cried, shoving himself upright, pulling his hand away from Harker's to point to her. The wind bit at his exposed fingers, and he felt so cold, but it was okay. It was worth it to show them, in his last moments, now that the end had truly come. "It was worth for this to die!"

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 1

Rules to Follow | Loki x Reader

The Avengers bring you to the compound after a series of odd events draws their attention. Life seems to be looking up, until your abilities start to show again.

Chapter warnings: 18+ for implied sexual content, false/medical imprisonment

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

The cold, bleak conference room was a welcome balm against the uproar of the last two days. 

You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were furious, staring down from the balcony of your flat, anger bubbling through your veins. And then you were watching a row of cars burn in the car park below. 

Maybe you would've gotten away with it if the weather was bad. If less people had been around. If it hadn't gone viral on TikTok. If it was the first time you'd done something weird. 

It wasn't unusual for people to have strange powers, not anymore, but there were certain rules to follow. Rules that included not setting cars on fire and frightening passersby. Rules your grandfather had set about staying in the flat and controlling your emotions, taking your medicine and laying low. 

A hand snapped in front of your face.

“Okay kid, spill. What are you?” Tony asked. 

“Uhm, I’m not anything at all?”

“No, come on. Setting shit on fire, what’s that?”

“Monster, alien or wizard?” Sam piped up.

“I swear to god Samuel quit it with that,” a pen flew across the room with surprising accuracy and embedded itself in the wall behind Sam’s head.

You’d seen them on TV, the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Vision, Scarlet Witch and Iron Man. It’d be cool if you had any idea why you were here.

“Mr Stark. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. I don't know how it happens, but I promise I’m not a threat. It wasn't deliberate, you have to believe me." Your voice wavered, tears pooling in your tired eyes.

“Tony, let her sleep. She can use the spare room on our floor. We’ll keep an eye on her”

“Thank you Mr Rogers” you choked, wiping your eyes.

“Steve, please” his face was soft, reassuring.

It took an hour to find you something proper to wear.

A day to get your room fixed up, belongings brought from your little flat in London and new furniture procured

A week before you ate with the team, although you watched them from a safe distance. 

A month before you really spoke to anyone. Eventually they called in a therapist. 

The compound was nice, spacious and modern. There was no work to do, like at your grandfather's flat, just lots of questions that left you tired and disoriented. 

Lauren the therapist was the only person you'd really communicated with, even though you were sure she was relaying the information back to the Avengers anyway. 

"So from what I can tell, she's around twenty five to thirty." Lauren addressed the room, taking in the gathered Avengers. "The details of her life are very hazy, she lived in that flat you visited, Steve, with her Grandad. I know she cared for him and he died some months ago leaving her the flat in his will. She takes medication every day." Laura turned to Bruce "I hope the few I managed to pass on were helpful, so you can refill her script when she needs it." 

"That's the thing," Bruce said, "I can't work out what she's been taking. I've had FRIDAY take scans and vitals, asked Dr Cho, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her." 

"Because she takes her pills?" 

"No, Steve, there's just - there's nothing wrong with her. Her temperature is a little elevated. But that's it, not a dangerous amount. I'd just say she runs warmer."

"So what's in the pills?" Tony asked, leaning over Bruce to look in the manilla file he had spread open on the table. 

"If I didn't know better I'd say something alien."

"But you do know better…" Tony prompted. 

"Adgardian maybe? But in a bottle from her local pharmacy. The name on the bottle’s been scratched off and I couldn’t find anything like this on any pharmacy database."

Tony and Steve turned to Natasha and she nodded. She'd not been able to find anything either.  No phone, no social media, home schooled. Sam suggested they do it the ‘old fashioned way’ and started to encourage Lauren to bring the woman out of her room to spend time with the others in hopes she would make more friends and let more information out.

As you spent more time with the group they found you brought a strange sense of calm, arguments stopped as you approached the table, worries about missions faded away. They even spent more time together as a team organising movie nights and parties, sitting together and being more tactile.

That’s when things started to get very strange.

The old evening routine of everyone slinking off to their bedrooms had been replaced by an easy comradery and then a fizzle of excitement started to build. The music seemed muffled and even Steve and Bucky’s heads felt fuzzy, drunk.

“Let's play spin the bottle!” You declared, downing your beer and lining it up on the coffee table. Before anyone else could fully agree you had flicked the bottle, everyone watched it slow until it came to a stop in front of Wanda.

“You girls don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to,” Steve said. But you shook your head. 

“I don’t mind if Wanda doesn’t… I like girls too and it's just a game, right?” you shrugged.

You leaned over and kissed Wanda quickly on the lips, noting the frisson of tension that built when you pulled away. 

Sam went next, “your lucky night,” he laughed before pulling you in for a kiss. 

The next spin was Natasha and somehow no one was surprised when it landed on you again. Natasha leaned in close but, before her lips could meet yours, you tilted your head to whisper in her ear, “I know there’s someone else you want to kiss, you don’t have to." Natasha blushed, but pressed a warm kiss to your lips anyway.  

“Did you rig this bottle?” Steve asked, picking it up before spinning. You, again.

Bucky put his hand on the bottle. “I wonder who” he laughed, but you had noticed his eyes move across the circle to the red headed assassin. 

As he leaned in for the inevitable kiss you put your hand up, hiding your mouths, “she’s a good kisser,” the words were out before you could stop them. Bucky pulled back, frowning.

“Who?”

You didn't answer, but your eyes danced across the circle to Natasha, studying Bucky's face as he followed the line of your sight. With their eyes locked you placed a chaste kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

You felt dizzy, only two beers in, but your head was swimming. The rest of the group weren’t fairing any better, both girls falling asleep and the boys nodding back against the sofa. Quietly you removed yourself from the pile of blankets and slunk back to your room. You hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you could feel it deeply, so deeply the words had bubbled out before you could swallow them back down. 

That night your sleep troubled you, the room was too warm making you sweat and writhe in the sheets and dreams of the Avengers flashing behind your closed eyes. 

The next morning no one could make eye contact, each team member focusing on their coffee or toast, eyes down.

When you sat down the same static spark of electricity seemed to move over the kitchen island, making everyone squirm and move in their seats.

Eventually Wanda completed the group, walking in red faced and nervous as she looked around the kitchen before visibly relaxing.

“Oh, we all had the same dream!” She exclaimed “I don’t feel so bad now.” She said, cheerily. 

“Wan, you’re not meant to read our minds,” Natasha protested, covering her ears as if that would make any difference at all. 

“Can we not talk about it,” Bucky grumbled, looking away from Natasha.

“But you slept, Bucky, isn’t that good?” At least Wanda was happy, you felt hot and sick “you didn’t have a nightmare like usual, you had the same …”

“Enough,” he snapped, slamming his spoon into his bowl a little too hard, milk splashing on the spotless counters. 

“Your dream was different though,” Wanda put a hand on your temple despite your attempt to squirm away, “yeah, yours was very different. And so was yours,” She pointed at Natasha who looked over to Bucky without thinking.

Wanda squeaked, a hand over her mouth “But Bucky, yours was just like…”

“Thats enough, ” Steve stood hands on the counter, “we need to figure out whatever is going on here,” everyone looked away blushing as he crossed his arms, Captain America voice in full effect. “For goodness sake, I’m going to speak to Bruce.” 

Steve stormed out and a rush of air moved across the island as everyone breathed out. Wanda let out an awkward laugh, head down so she wouldn't catch the eye of her teammates and left the room. 

After that incredibly awkward breakfast you began to pull away from the more open group spaces and started to spend a lot of time in the lab with Bruce while he tried to synthesise your medication. The small unlabeled tube of pills one of Stark’s assistants had packed for you was now empty. But all Bruce had been able to discover was a heavy sedative.

“You shouldn’t have even been able to walk around taking something that strong." He took his glasses off to rub a hand over his face, the fatigue of a sleepless night of experiments catching up to him, "you feel okay now?”

“Yeah”

“But you’re an inch taller than yesterday you said?”

“I’m an inch taller than I was this morning.”

Bruce rubbed his hand on his face, dangling his glasses from the other hand.

“Okay, walk me through what happened again”

“So I sat next to Captain Rodgers and Sergeant Barnes in the kitchen and when I stood up I was an inch taller, I could tell because my jeans were too short.”

“That’s not how growing works,” Bruce took a seat beside you and huffed out a breath. 

“I know that I’m not doing it on purpose”

For the last few days you had been slowly growing the trait of anyone you were in close contact with. It was unnerving everyone, looking up and seeing their eyes glowing back, or their hair colour tinged in highlights around your face. But worse still was that there was no clear explanation, none that you could or would give. 

It wasn’t the only change the team had noticed. Wanda, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky spent the most time together and they had all spent the most time alone together with you. But after only a few days they refused to even enter a room if you were there, prefering to skirt around the edges or take a different route.  

They couldn’t forget the night when they played spin the bottle, in fact they had thrown away all the beer of the same brand and there had been no more team evenings suggested. 

When you were alone with them a tension seemed to fill in the air. Steve had shifted your training rotation so that no one was ever left alone in the gym with you. Sam admitted you’d almost kissed last time you were alone and, red faced, Wanda agreed. Natasha and Bucky had also blushed, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. They complained that you kept trying to make them stand next to each other, and had even locked them into a cupboard 'by accident’ while pretending that you were unable to find the key until Steve freed them.

You couldn’t seem to control the feeling either, a primal urge inside of you growing the longer you were without your tablets. Growling and clawing until you had to excuse yourself and take a handful of the sleeping pills Bruce had given you. 

Wanda admitted, as you escaped the building tension for the last time, that this was when her dreams were the most extreme and everyone nodded along. Their nights filled with vivid, primal scenes, moaning and panting, the touch and taste of another filling their senses. 

And, though you could hear them talking about you, you could never admit that your dreams were different, that you saw yourself orchestrating their dreams like a puppet master, like a god and you’d wake in a cold sweat. 

Frightened, they placed you in the medical wing, a secure room with two way mirrors, sound proofing and, most importantly, a lock. Bruce told you that it was somewhere safe, where you could withdraw from the medication that was dwindling in the little orange bottle. But Tony was relieved that the team could relax now without you around. 

Alone, you took another sedative and rolled over in your plastic bed, under the thin sheet, and cried. 

The last time the team had met someone who had so easily got inside them and changed their dynamic, they had ended up with an alien invasion. Steve was sure you weren’t in control, thinking about your embarrassment and desperation when Bucky and Natasha were locked in the cupboard, how quickly you left the room whenever the conversation became heated. He was sure, sure , you were safe, that it was just a side effect of whatever you’d been taking all these years and that given time everything would go back to normal. 

Tony, however, was taking no chances. 

“We need to call Thor.” He suggested as they watched you through the mirror, you were reading a book and running your finger over your lip as you concentrated. With each pass of your finger your lips changed colour, working through shades of pink and red. 

“What can Thor do?” Bruce had had enough stress for one month, thank you very much, and was much happier handing out medication until they could find somewhere else to send you. All he needed to do was refine some samples and he’d be able to remake your medication and then he could give Fury the go ahead to have you moved. 

“He can bring Loki,” Tony said, jumping up to sit on the tall lab counter and tossing a few blueberries into his mouth. 

Bruce looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a good idea? The man’s mad.”

“I don’t want to see him anymore than you do. But they could help us figure out if this is magic like them, or a mutation, or if…it’s something else. Then you can pack her off to whichever medical facility you think is appropriate.” Tony waved his hand around in the air as if to demonstrate the unknown fears they all shared. “She shape shifts, Bruce. Loki can do that. And the manipulating thoughts and feelings? Maybe she can learn to control it. We need her to control herself and maybe, maybe , if we’re nice enough, she’ll want to help us too.”

“Do we really want Loki to teach her that, how do we know we can trust him?” Bruce cringed, thinking of the havoc the man had wrought, even if he was being manipulated. Loki was powerful, who knew what he could achieve with a little planning. 

“Thor can help keep him in line,” Tony seemed confident and although his confidence was often catching, Bruce still felt the deep simmer of apprehension sitting low in his gut. 

“At least we’re not fighting like last time,” Bruce sighed heavily, the memory of his last encounter with Loki still fresh in his mind. 

“No, but the sexual tension is killing me. We need to end this.” Tony laughed, thinking back to the red faces of his colleagues and their lack of enthusiasm when he suggested they get drunk and play spin the bottle again. 

“Okay, fine, Tony, you win. Call Thor.” Bruce sighed, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his head in his hands.

“And Loki?”

“And Loki."

<;< Masterlist

Part 2>>

[oops-all-concrete]

Okay, BG3 fandom, I have had sweet thoughts and would like to share them; Companions reacting to Tavs hiding an injury until they couldn't keep it to themselves anymore/the companions put together that they're hurting. (Companions aren't romanced, but GETTING there)

Tooth rotting fluff in a text wall under the cut, enjoy

Lae'zel -

Lae'zel is annoyed, but in the "Don't fight me when I'm trying to love you without saying it" kind of way. She'll say "This isn't battle strategic, there is no advantage this offers us" but the whole camp knows what she means while she aggressively dresses your wound and tells you to stop whining. If Tav wakes up in the middle of the night to find her guarding their tent like a loyal dog, they didn't see anything as far as she cares.

Shadowheart -

Similarly to Lae'zel, Shadowheart is a little annoyed, but Shadowheart can admit she's worried. "You should have told me. I'd have taken care of this immediately" She tells Tav, healing the wound with a small prayer. She makes them promise to say something in the future, even if only for her sake. "This journey has been treacherous. I'd like the one good thing that's come of it to survive with me"

Wyll -

"Promise me you're not going to make a habit of that" He insists, dressing your wounds with a tense expression. "I'd like you to flourish at my side. And I can't be certain you're doing that when you hide things like this." He admits, apparent worry in his voice, gentle movements, a warning for every touch. He's a hard man to feel uncomfortable around. Tav can practically feel the care radiating off him with every patient smile.

Karlach -

She gives Tav the least flack for keeping it to yourself. "Woah soldier, let's take a break and look at that, yeah?" She suggests, keeping the worry out of her voice quite well. She knows they're hiding it for a reason and tries not to make them feel worse for failing to hide it. She just tries to make Tav as comfortable as possible so they might feel at ease enough to tell her next time.

Gale -

The man basically mothers Tav through the healing process. Insists they're off their feet, won't budge on Tav resting and cleans their wounds and changes bandages around the clock. "As much peril as we are in every day, I'd like if you kept even the smaller injuries out in the open." He explains one night. "As small as any harm seems when compared to impending ilithid doom, it's still harm. Much more, it's harm we can fix. Harm I'd like to fix. Ah- assuming you'll let me"

Astarion -

Sounds inconvenienced, will not sit still while you're unwell. He'll hang around and poke fun but won't let them get up for anything. "I mean, how have you even managed that" he says, handing Tav fresh water. "I know you're clumsy, but surely you could have avoided that" he chuckles, handing you another book to draw in/read. "I'll remember this next time you say you have an idea" He rolls his eyes cutting up food and feeding them personally. Anyone asks? "Well, I can't just let them suffer can I? They'll never shut up"

Bonus! (Our older folks)

Halsin -

"That looks painful...you needn't be in pain you know, I can carry you quite easily" He offers. If Tav truly doesn't want help, he can't/won't make them, but he will hover and puppy-dog-eyes at them until they cave. The man will let Tav use him for warmth in the night while they recover and carry them to the pond to bathe as well. Really, Tav could ask anything of him, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

Jaheira -

"I don't even send Harpers out in that condition if I can help it. You'll sit and relax, yes?" She says. Not asks, because she's not asking. "I mean, what if this got infected, or started swelling? Would you just wait for death like a bird falling out of the sky?" She rolls her eyes playfully. She doesn't hesitate to ask for help on Tavs behalf either. "If they'd judge you for being hurt, they're not worthy allies...if they'd judge you for suffering in silence however, that makes them good friends"

Minsc -

"Boo says this should take care of your battle scars. You'll take it yes? When a hamster gives advice, it's bad luck not to take it" he smiles handing Tav whatever potion variant needed. He's overall jovial about it, casual and moves on quickly. Wether that's out of courtesy for Tavs pride or simply because he's a kind man with a hollow head, nobody can truly say.

Hope you enjoyed <3 (and Happy Holidays)

[gello-strands]

Hallo

I'm Gello/Jelly

(DO NOT SEND ME DONATION REQUESTS. I WILL BLOCK YOU. PLEASE. I AM A MINOR AND I AM UNABLE TO DONATE ANYTHING.)

my pronouns are he/xe/ze/it (no they/them)

My commissions are open, DM for info

aro/ace lover of women

I am a minor

DNI:

>proshippers/comshippers

(selfcest is alright as long as it isn't pedophilia. simon x winter king is fine for example)

>helluva boss/hazbin hotel fans

>terfs

>c.ai users

If you fit some of these criteria, please ask before following.

(Proshippers/terfs don't ask please. I do not want anything to do with you.)

i make art, its all tagged as #jelly boy draws. My talk tag is #jelly boy talks.

if you like my art i'd really appreciate if you could reblog it, that way it reaches more people

i am also the co-creator of camp red-moon, If ur interested head on over to our website Here

my best pal is @seaweedbrain3

check him out, hes cool

And another reminder, I'm a minor, under 18, a child if you will.

Check under the cut for fandom list

Five nights at freddys

Bendy and the ink machine

Bendy and the dark revival

Dandy's world

Minecraft story mode

Half life

Half life 2

Portal

Portal 2

Half life vr but the AI is self aware

Slay the princess

Hatsune Miku

Off

Kirby

Team Fortress 2

Homestuck

The Magnus archives

Camp here and there

Undertale

Deltarune

Over the garden wall

Adventure time

17776

20020

Smiling friends

Regretavator

Mouthwashing

Percy jackson

Ace attorney

Ride the cyclone

Heathers

Newsies

Borderlands the pre sequel

Fallout New vegas

Animal crossing

Will wood

Reanimator

Poppy playtime

Sprunki

Madoka Magica

What we do in the shadows

Katamari

And more that I forgot

Silent hill the movie (ILL PLAY THE GAMES SOON I PROMISE)

Metal Gear rising Revengance

Metal gear solid

Psm Raiden (he's my babygirl)

[laurageto]

Levi Ackerman

I stare at Levi, my hand placed on his chest. Tears stream down his cheek which he wipes away brashly with his shirt sleeve. I've never seen him like this before, he's never one to show his emotions about anything.

"Levi.. I honestly had no idea about your mother. I'm so sorry." My voice comes out as a silent croak. A lump forms in my throat. "And something I've never said to you before, I'm truly sorry for lying to you about who I was.. back when we were kids" the lump still sticking as I swallow hard. I feel all the courage I have leaking out of me, I'd never truly acknowledged how my lies had affected him. I always thought I'd lied for the greater good, for both of us. But that just wasn't true, I lied to protect me. I was so selfish.

His gaze draws up to meet mine, the anger has calmed but the sadness remains. "How do I know I can trust you y/n?" I can see his eyes desperately searching mine, he wants to believe me.

"I'll have to prove it to you. And I will, I promise. If you'll give me the chance to..." My voice trails off and I break our eye contact. What if he doesn't forgive me? What if I've wrecked everything?

I turn away and step lightly towards my bed when suddenly his fingers clasp my wrist and he spins me into an embrace. My nose lands snuggly into his pecks, the familar smell of fresh cotton and his unforgettable musk envelops my senses. My hand creeps up from my side as it slowly slides up his chest and clasps at the material it finds. Small pools of liquid fill my eyes as I feel him pull me closer in an embrace.

7 years. 7 years it's been since he last held me like this.

He leans his head down, nuzzling into my soft strands. His rib cage expands, taking my scent in. His fingers clasp tighter round my waist, as if the smell of me was all he needed to realise how much we meant to one another. He scoops my chin between his fingers and raises my head to face him, those hazel orbs entrancing me. Like I'm staring into my own soul.

"y/n... I'm about to show you just how much I've missed you"

And just like that, he slams me up against the nearest stone wall. He pins both of my wrists above my head with a single hand, his face dangerously close to mine. I can feel his hot breath against my soft pink lips. My cheeks flush a rosy hue as I glance down. Why do I feel nervous?

With his one free hand he runs a finger up my neck and brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He traces my chin and raises my head up again so that our eyes meet. "Don't look away from me. I want you to keep your eyes focused on mine. You are mine. You've always been mine".

Instantly he latches his lips onto my open neck, nibbling and sucking at my pale flesh causing me to whimper. "Levi.. you'll leave a mark"

"Exactly. That fucking Lieutenant will know to keep away from what isn't his" he growls into my lobe whilst planting small pecks onto my helix. He gently releases his grasp of my pinned wrists and rubs his forefingers along the collar of my lose white tee. Rrrrpppp!

Within seconds he's ripped the flimsy cotton off of my milky complexion. I haven't got a bra or underwear on due to the incident with one of the Lieutenants earlier so every inch of my skin is exposed. My small buds perk up as the cold air greets them.

Levi stares at my body hungrily, he bites his lip before sliding his tongue along his lips to moisten them. "7 years... I can't believe I've kept away from you for 7 years. Every. Single. Day. I've wanted to fuck the life out of you". He groans, his fingertips meet my nipples and put pressure on them slightly, rubbing them in a circular motion.

I can't even speak, my legs feel like jelly. I know my expression is speaking a thousand words. Absolute extacy.

"Not fair that I'm the only one being scrutinized here" I finally manage to squeak as I slowly undo his shirt buttons. His gorgeous chest starts to appear as the material falls away from his shoulders and drops to the ground. Fuck, he is utter perfection.

I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and my legs around his waist as he hoists me up onto him. His tongue finally finds my perky nipples, gently caressing one before lovingly moving onto the other, not forgetting any inch of me. His fingers scrabble mindlessly to find his zipper, the sense of urgency increasing every second. He finally pulls his pants down exposing his stiff erection. "Fuck, you make me so hard y/n"

I slowly push individual fingers into my mouth, wetting each one. I gaze doe eyed at him, driving him more and more wild. I slip my now wet fingers down through my legs and they find his cock. As my hand clasps it, I feel it pulsate. I begin to stroke it slowly, teasing my fingers around the edge. "I remember just how you like it'. He groans, closing his eyes. His palms clutch to my bum cheeks, leaving marks where they dig.

After a few minutes of teasing he carries me over to my bed and throws me onto it. I giggle as he eagerly spreads my legs apart, licking his lips as he kneels on the cold wooden floor. I can soon feel his warm breath on my clit. "Here she is, I've missed her..." He whispers as I melt into his chocolate brown iris'. He wraps both of his arms around my thighs and pulls me closer to his face. His lips finally meeting my pussy.

"I own this pussy. I own you. After tonight, you'll never look at another man again".

My entire being has been craving this moment for what feels like eternity.

I feel my muscles relaxing into the soft cotton sheets as his lips tenderly press against my clit. His tongue desperately searching for that sweet spot that he knows oh so well. A hushed whimper escapes my already parted lips as his mouth finds its mark. I feel his fingers grip my thighs tighter in acknowledgment. Bolts of electricity ignite throughout my body, rippling through every joint and muscle. Waves of pure pleasure pulsate throughout me. "Enjoy this baby" he utters before slowly dipping back in to enjoy your taste even more.

My fingertips tighten round the surrounding sheets as I can feel my body tensing close to orgasm. "S-stopp!" I moan as I push his head away, "I'm so close and I want this moment to last. It's my turn to pleasure you". He leans back onto his heels with a cheeky grin spread across his gorgeous face. He gracefully stands up, his abdominal muscles flexing before my very eyes. I can't help but lean forward and run my palms over them, feeling every indentation. Fuck how has he got even hotter? I'm literally salivating here Levi!

As my fingers wander his muscles, I notice the scars that mottle his ivory skin. My lips find them and land small pecks on every single one. I feel goosebumps emerge on his chest at the touch of me. As my mouth works it's magic I tentatively drag down the remainder of his pants exposing him completely. "Now we're on even grounds" I remark longingly staring at his member which is eagerly greeting me.

I look up at him, memorized but his hypnotic milk chocolate eyes. I'd never really noticed how beautiful they were, small flecks of amber laced through them. He reaches towards me, brushing strands of ivory away from my complezion to get a better view of me.

Taking both of my hands I wrap them round his shaft, slowly working up and down whilst keeping my aqua orbs fixated on his. I stick out my tongue and gently caress the tip of his erection, Levi bites down on his lips as a slight hiss escapes from them but he doesn't lose eye contact with me. I teasingly edge my mouth deeper and deeper down his shaft, his hands erratically finding my hair and grasping at it as he puts a small amount of pressure for me to go deeper. I happily accept.

The power I feel having all of him inside my mouth. "Fuck y/n" the words radiate from him. His left hand untangles from my long locks as it slides down my jaw and gently clasps around my neck. I know he can feel his own dick pumping inside of my throat which makes him even harder. "Shit!" He suddenly pulls out, his stiff cock right by my mouth as a string of saliva drips from the end. I take a gasp for breath while I can before he sticks it back in and continues to thrust. I cup his under carriage gently, my future children are in there. These babies need to be protected!

After a few rounds of edging him to an almost orgasm he drags me up off of my kneeling position on the bed and dominantly flips me over so that my rear is facing him. He licks his fingers before caressing my moist pussy. Using my own juices he wets the end of his cock and forcefully enters me. I yell out a squeal of pleasure which eggs him on more. It doesn't take long for his pace to quicken, slamming his entire body into mine.

I rock my hips back into him, matching his eager pace. Every pump drives me wild and I know it's doing the same to him. "I've missed this pussy, I've missed everything about you y/n" he groans, making no effort to hush his tones. It's almost as if he wants everyone to hear. He wants people to know that I'm his.

"Fuck, I forgot how big you are Levi" I mewl, I'm at his complete mercy. "I love it when you say my name. Say it again" he commands. "Levi. Fuck me harder" I express, my words emit a begging tone. I can almost hear his expression as a captivating grin spreads over him. His palms grab my hips greedily, hoisting up his foot onto the bed to enable him to get deeper.

He outstretches his forearm, clutching a collection of my tresses and curling them round his fingers. He tugs on them slightly which in turn pulls my head towards him. I'm well and truly in his control.

After a few minutes of us rampantly going at it he pulls himself out of me and slaps the supple pink skin of my bum. The mark of his hand quickly reddens the area that it had hit. Grabbing my waist he hungrily tosses me onto my back leaning into me so that my legs almost bend behind my head. "Lucky I'm flexible" I giggle before licking my lips siductively. He gives me a fervent look as he takes his shaft and plunges it back into me, gliding in and out of my now soaking vagina with ease.

"Keep g-going. I'm going to cum" the pitch in my voice heightens. "Look at me. I need you to look at me when I cum" he orders at me. The husky intense voice is playing no games. My orbs quickly meet his. "Don't cum in me" I whisper. As much as I want children with him one day, now probably wasn't the best time.

"I'll cum in you if I want to. If you get pregnant, well... nothing would make me happier if I'm honest" he puffs away, exhaustion now setting in. For some reason those words trigger my orgasm. "Fuuucckkk! Levi!" My toes curl as euphoria takes over. "Uhh.. ghh oh my god" he cries out. I can feel his dick pulsating inside me, the warm liquid filling every crevice. He leaves it inside of me whilst we both soak up the emotions we're feeling.

"I'm glad your mine again. I won't let anyone touch you ever again". He lovingly strokes my cheek wiping away the beads of sweat that had accumulated during our love making before collapsing beside me out of complete fatigue.

I turn to him, his eyes now closed.

My god, he's the most gorgeous human I've ever laid eyes on.

[mamasquirt]

💌

I'm thinking of you laying there on the bed of a dimly lit room, in your flirty little skirt just waiting for someone to take you.

I start slowly getting closer to you starring you down, letting you know just how bad I want you. You start to feel the tension in the room escalating and I can hear your breathing pattern changing. I’m now just next to you, I start softly running my hand up the inside of your leg, inner thigh all the way to your stomach. I pause, take a glimpse at you, I want to see how you’re reacting to my touch. We briefly lock eyes and that’s my signal, your insistant lustful gaze has betrayed you. You haven’t uttered a single word but your body has now made it clear, you’re enjoying this moment and you sure as hell don’t want this to stop.

So I pick up where I left at, I start to run my hand on your body once more reaching for your hips, I lean my head closer to yours, gaze at your face for awhile. I slowly run my other hand trough your hair, down your neck and shoulder. Your skin feels so soft. I decide to play with the strap of your bra for a while, trying to figure out if I should take it off just now, as I push your strap to the side of your shoulder. And in that moment, as I begin to undress you, you start to feel particularly vulnerable, the intimacy of the moment is very shooting, isn’t it.

As I make my way up your upper back with my hand, you start to blush, your cheeks are turning red and you are submerged by a wave of burning desire, and you probably haven’t even noticed but your hips instinctively moved closer to me.

I have you stand up for me as I begin to wonder just how to dispose of you.

Should I start by making my way up, slowly grazing the exterior of your of thighs with the back of my hand ?

Or perhaps I should start by standing firmly in front of you, pinning you up against the wall, staring you right in the eyes.

Yeah.. I like the sound of that.

So I get real close to you, you start to take a step back. I keeptrying to get closer and you match my pace, for every step forward I take you take one backwards. Our eyes are locked and you start to grin because you know what’s coming next, it’s almost like we’re dancing really. But now I have you cornered, your back’s against the wall. So I lean in real close to you, guide your arms above your head, let out a couple of warm heavy breathes onto your neck.

You have me seduced, I can barely contain myself. Having you there hands up against the wall, it’s a bliss but you realize there's no going back. It's just you and me baby girl, in that moment you become entirely mine.

I have you spread your legs open for me, just a little bit.

I’m taking my time with you, contemplating that beautiful body of yours.

You're eye candy to me, and I'd make sure you know that by the way I looked at you. Let you know how every single one of your curves draws me just a little bit closer to the edge.

..I’m thinking about just how hard it is for me to contain myself, but you're worth it, I want to take all the time in the world for you.

I take your cheek in the palm of my hand and slowly move my lips closer to yours, only to deny you of that kiss at the last moment and get close to your ear.

Whisper something along the lines of

"you know.. I'm really enjoying this. Knowing that you're mine to take. Having your body under my control, all of you, at the mercy of my touch. Yeah that's right, I want you to surrender your body to me, surrender to my touch, precious. »

Of course I'd have started to run my fingers around the string of your panties, playing around with them, teasing you.

…Should I push them aside and reach for the promised land like your body is begging me to do ? Or should I continue to tease you and just pull your panties upward just a bit, have them spread your lips open for me..?

Yea um…you need locked up bro

[helplessv1ctim]

I'm thinking of you laying there on the bed of a dimly lit room, in your flirty little skirt just waiting for someone to take you.

I start slowly getting closer to you starring you down, letting you know just how bad I want you. You start to feel the tension in the room escalating and I can hear your breathing pattern changing. I’m now just next to you, I start softly running my hand up the inside of your leg, inner thigh all the way to your stomach. I pause, take a glimpse at you, I want to see how you’re reacting to my touch. We briefly lock eyes and that’s my signal, your insistant lustful gaze has betrayed you. You haven’t uttered a single word but your body has now made it clear, you’re enjoying this moment and you sure as hell don’t want this to stop.

So I pick up where I left at, I start to run my hand on your body once more reaching for your hips, I lean my head closer to yours, gaze at your face for awhile. I slowly run my other hand trough your hair, down your neck and shoulder. Your skin feels so soft. I decide to play with the strap of your bra for a while, trying to figure out if I should take it off just now, as I push your strap to the side of your shoulder. And in that moment, as I begin to undress you, you start to feel particularly vulnerable, the intimacy of the moment is very shooting, isn’t it.

As I make my way up your upper back with my hand, you start to blush, your cheeks are turning red and you are submerged by a wave of burning desire, and you probably haven’t even noticed but your hips instinctively moved closer to me.

I have you stand up for me as I begin to wonder just how to dispose of you.

Should I start by making my way up, slowly grazing the exterior of your of thighs with the back of my hand ?

Or perhaps I should start by standing firmly in front of you, pinning you up against the wall, staring you right in the eyes.

Yeah.. I like the sound of that.

So I get real close to you, you start to take a step back. I keeptrying to get closer and you match my pace, for every step forward I take you take one backwards. Our eyes are locked and you start to grin because you know what’s coming next, it’s almost like we’re dancing really. But now I have you cornered, your back’s against the wall. So I lean in real close to you, guide your arms above your head, let out a couple of warm heavy breathes onto your neck.

You have me seduced, I can barely contain myself. Having you there hands up against the wall, it’s a bliss but you realize there's no going back. It's just you and me baby girl, in that moment you become entirely mine.

I have you spread your legs open for me, just a little bit.

I’m taking my time with you, contemplating that beautiful body of yours.

You're eye candy to me, and I'd make sure you know that by the way I looked at you. Let you know how every single one of your curves draws me just a little bit closer to the edge.

..I’m thinking about just how hard it is for me to contain myself, but you're worth it, I want to take all the time in the world for you.

I take your cheek in the palm of my hand and slowly move my lips closer to yours, only to deny you of that kiss at the last moment and get close to your ear.

Whisper something along the lines of

"you know.. I'm really enjoying this. Knowing that you're mine to take. Having your body under my control, all of you, at the mercy of my touch. Yeah that's right, I want you to surrender your body to me, surrender to my touch, precious. »

Of course I'd have started to run my fingers around the string of your panties, playing around with them, teasing you.

…Should I push them aside and reach for the promised land like your body is begging me to do ? Or should I continue to tease you and just pull your panties upward just a bit, have them spread your lips open for me..?

THIS IS WHAT I MEAN WHEN I SAY I WANT DETAILED ASKS!!!! :0

woke up to this and i’m wet thank you

[horizonspurple]

💌

I'm thinking of you laying there on the bed of a dimly lit room, in your flirty little skirt just waiting for someone to take you.

I start slowly getting closer to you starring you down, letting you know just how bad I want you. You start to feel the tension in the room escalating and I can hear your breathing pattern changing. I’m now just next to you, I start softly running my hand up the inside of your leg, inner thigh all the way to your stomach. I pause, take a glimpse at you, I want to see how you’re reacting to my touch. We briefly lock eyes and that’s my signal, your insistant lustful gaze has betrayed you. You haven’t uttered a single word but your body has now made it clear, you’re enjoying this moment and you sure as hell don’t want this to stop.

So I pick up where I left at, I start to run my hand on your body once more reaching for your hips, I lean my head closer to yours, gaze at your face for awhile. I slowly run my other hand trough your hair, down your neck and shoulder. Your skin feels so soft. I decide to play with the strap of your bra for a while, trying to figure out if I should take it off just now, as I push your strap to the side of your shoulder. And in that moment, as I begin to undress you, you start to feel particularly vulnerable, the intimacy of the moment is very shooting, isn’t it.

As I make my way up your upper back with my hand, you start to blush, your cheeks are turning red and you are submerged by a wave of burning desire, and you probably haven’t even noticed but your hips instinctively moved closer to me.

I have you stand up for me as I begin to wonder just how to dispose of you.

Should I start by making my way up, slowly grazing the exterior of your of thighs with the back of my hand ?

Or perhaps I should start by standing firmly in front of you, pinning you up against the wall, staring you right in the eyes.

Yeah.. I like the sound of that.

So I get real close to you, you start to take a step back. I keeptrying to get closer and you match my pace, for every step forward I take you take one backwards. Our eyes are locked and you start to grin because you know what’s coming next, it’s almost like we’re dancing really. But now I have you cornered, your back’s against the wall. So I lean in real close to you, guide your arms above your head, let out a couple of warm heavy breathes onto your neck.

You have me seduced, I can barely contain myself. Having you there hands up against the wall, it’s a bliss but you realize there's no going back. It's just you and me baby girl, in that moment you become entirely mine.

I have you spread your legs open for me, just a little bit.

I’m taking my time with you, contemplating that beautiful body of yours.

You're eye candy to me, and I'd make sure you know that by the way I looked at you. Let you know how every single one of your curves draws me just a little bit closer to the edge.

..I’m thinking about just how hard it is for me to contain myself, but you're worth it, I want to take all the time in the world for you.

I take your cheek in the palm of my hand and slowly move my lips closer to yours, only to deny you of that kiss at the last moment and get close to your ear.

Whisper something along the lines of

"you know.. I'm really enjoying this. Knowing that you're mine to take. Having your body under my control, all of you, at the mercy of my touch. Yeah that's right, I want you to surrender your body to me, surrender to my touch, precious. »

Of course I'd have started to run my fingers around the string of your panties, playing around with them, teasing you.

…Should I push them aside and reach for the promised land like your body is begging me to do ? Or should I continue to tease you and just pull your panties upward just a bit, have them spread your lips open for me..?

Yeah so this is exactly what not to do

I haven't even read this fully because this is an unwanted message

Don't push your fantasies on me, I'm not yours and I'm not interested

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

The Garden

Chapter One

❥Prince!Park Seonghwa x fem reader

☆ feat. ateez, tomorrow x together, and others

➯a/n: i've had this idea in the drafts for a very long time and it's gone through a million iterations of characters and love interests and something about hwa in the skirt and sword clicked in my brain. i'm still recovering but this idea hit me hard and fast so i decided i'd put something out. i promise i'll stop starting new stories 😭 (shoutout to my gf again for helping this come to life)

✃"I will give you the happy ending you've always wanted."

✫彡wordcount: 2.7k

(✯◡✯)genre: historical fantasy au, drama

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of violence, anxiety, and loved ones passing, briefly proof read

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

𖢌

I hope this letter has found you well.

   The wheels crunch the gravel road. Horses hooves clap against the ground loudly. The waves crash just feet way. The sounds echo through the carriage.

I know it's short notice.

    The sun is casting down from a clear sky. The grass is healthy, green and lush. The ocean is vast and blue, foam from the waves clings to the pure white sand.

Taedemere is in jeopardy. We are at war. Lord Hwang declared it silently.

  It was a bumpy ride. A long one. But you don't seem to mind. You keep your sisters entertained and keep your brothers minds off of the impending war. Doing so, you can almost manage to distract yourself from your own future.

He's already posted spies. Spies in the castle. Gods knows how long they've been here.

  "The dragon fell from the tower. It's shrieks echoed through the kingdom!" You read with enthusiasm, looking at the twins who look back with wide eyes.

It's not safe for them here. We had to sneak them away through the tunnels.

  "Did the prince kill it?!" Seunghee asks, holding tight to your skirt. "He must have," Soojun is entranced by the story, "right?"

There was an attempt on my life. An attempt on the girls in the garden. Another on Kai and (Y/n). They are everywhere.

  You launch forward and scream, spooking the girls back into Kais leg. He's holding back a laugh as he pats their heads. "The dragon soars up from the fog, the princes sword still lodged into its scaly side!"

They are threatening us with no words at all. Lord Hwang is coming for the Taedemere crown.

   "Must you scare them with such stories?" Yeonjun sighs as he tugs the young girls back up to the seat, sandwiching himself between them and his brother.

You must forgive our absence. I have to keep the crown secure until we have a more solidified plan.

   You simply ignore him, "the creature perches itself on the ledge, it's jaws reach for the prince. He backs into the wall and draws his dagger. 'Foul demon! I send you back to hell!' he yells as he dives at it. They tumb-"

It's time.

  The carriage halts. You snap the book shut and lean back to get a look out of the foggy window. Yeonjun slides into the seat next to you and does the same. Kai strains his neck to look out of the window behind him.

Take care of our children. Our future.

  The gates are iron, shining like they were scrubbed everyday. The castle beyond them seems to be endless.

-King Choi Seungcheol

  As the gates open, you can feel your heart beat in your ears. Seunghee climbs on your lap and peeks out of the window, her eyes widen with every second she inspects the castle.

   Yeonjun seems to notice your dismay as the carriage grows ever closer.

He can feel it to. The feeling that your future is being written in stone with every inch you grow closer.

"When I last saw him," he hesitates as he gets your attention. "Prince Seonghwa seemed to be the same. He hasn't changed, he's still your old friend."

  You manage a nod with a small smile, and although he can tell it's forced; it helps comfort him. It doesn't comfort Kai, however. He never liked the idea of you marrying someone so far away. He still doesn't. You're attached at the hip.

   Everyone knows Choi (Y/n) doesn't want to marry for security or position. You made it very clear. It's a miracle that you've been able to avoid it this long. You figured if you put up enough of a fuss, your oldest brother would simply give up. But you are equally stubborn. And now he's King.

  A loud horn startles you, and you instinctively pull Seunghee closer. Your breathing hitches until you realize it's just the castle welcoming your entourage.

   As you come to a complete stop, all of your demeanors change. Yeonjun wipes his caring expression away and straightens his back. Kai lets go of Soojuns hand and fixes his blouse. The twins try their best to hide their awe at the beautiful and vast architecture.

And all you can do is hide your growing anxieties with a polite smile.

  The door squeaks as it opens. Yeonjun is the first one to exit. Soojun eagerly follows, and Seunghee is right behind her. The remaining siblings can hear the fuss from the bystanders outside.

   The middle siblings sit silence for a moment before he speaks up. "You don't have to be afraid."

You look up and let the faux smile fade the second you see his sincerity.

  "Don't I?"

  "No."He shakes his head. He's sure. His sister has nothing to be afraid of. Because- "if that Prince hurts you; I'll be the one to personally whip some senses into him."

You can't help the small chuckle that leaves your lips, and motion for him to leave the carriage first. He does, leaving you alone for a single moment before someone peeks in.

  "Your highness?" You smile at the man in uniform, standing slowly.

  "So impatient," you roll your eyes playfully and take his hand as he helps you step down. "Thank you, Yeosang."

  He bows slightly before leading you to your place in between your brothers and sisters. Your eyes are still adjusting to the bright light, but you can see the large doors open in front of you.

Yeonjun kneels, Kai follows his lead, you follow his, Seunghee following you; and Soojun stands upright just staring at the royal family until you notice and pull her down by the back of her neck without even lifting you head. You can all hear a small snort of laughter, and Yeonjun worries your family managed to already offend them until the King speaks.

"Please, rise."

The Choi family does so and Yeosang, the knight, steps forward. He bows deeply before turning to the siblings. "The Prince Choi Yeonjun. The Princess Choi (Y/n). The Princess Choi Seunghee. The Princess Choi Soojun. Huening Kai."

A man steps up from behind the other family, introducing them like Yeosang had just done for your family. "His Royal Majesty Park Kyujun. The Prince Park Seonghwa. The Princess Park Bongcha. The Princess Hayoon."

Your family bows, greeting him in unison, "Your Majesty." Yeonjun continues. "Thank you for your hospitality, sire. We are forever grateful."

Your eyes are fully adjusted when you rise from your bow. The king is older than you remember, but it has been a long time. Princess Bongcha has grown so much that you briefly wonder if you've found yourself time-traveled. There's an unfamiliar little girl beside her. The prince, your fiancé, has changed just as much as you have. You contemplate if he even remembers you. But those wonders are cleared when he addresses you directly.

"Princess (Y/n)," he has a bright smile and dark hair, that much has stayed the same. "Your highness," you smile back and lower your head.

  Whispers echo through the crowd that's held back by the guards: and it's becoming hard for you ignore them. You wrap your arm around Soojun when she cowers closer.

   "Please, come," King Kyujun motions for you all to follow him, and you gladly do.

    It's been a long journey, but it's only just begun.

𖢌

  King Kyujun leads the Choi family down the great hall and they can't help but marvel in its greatness. To the twins, it's a new world to be explored, coming up with their own stories that go along with the stain glass windows. To the older siblings, it brings back memories of childhood, a time when they didn't have such worries that plague their minds these days.

  Yeonjun can remember his first kiss behind a delicately painted pillar during the dead of night. Kai can remember learning a dance with his mother in this hall, the feeling of belonging. (Y/n) can remember running away from the tutor with Seonghwa beside her.

  As you look over to him, you notice it. "You still have that goofy smile," you've dropped the titles and politics. You're just a girl reunited with her child hood friend and fiancé. "I though you may have outgrown it."

  "I'm starting to think I may not," he laughs a bit.

   "I'd hope not. It's one of your few redeeming qualities," you joke, hiding your smirk as you look up at the new chandelier you pass under.

   He feigns a gasp, a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know that I have many good qualities."

  You hum, turning to him, "such as? Sparring with a squirrel?" He slaps a hand over his mouth to swallow his laughter. Your laughter rings free in the empty hall.

   "That squirrel was a menace! It startled me!" He argues in a low voice. "It had no right jumping next to me like that," he says with an exaggerated frown.

   "Unnie!" Soojun hollers, catching your attention quickly as you see that your little sisters have fallen behind. You make your way to them quickly, scolding them that they shouldn't yell in the presence of the King. "Look, Unnie," she points as she ignores your scolding.

  Your heart speeds before it stops abruptly, face to face with the intricate stained glass window. The sun shines through it, casting colorful lights on you all. It's a beautiful collage of colors. Every tiny piece is fit together perfectly to tell a story.

   You flinch when a hand is placed on your shoulder. The King apologizes, retracting his hand. "You probably don't remember this..." You shake your head and look back to the art. "I remember, sire."

He sighs deeply, and you can feel his energy apologizing even if he says nothing.

    "Come on, there's food waiting." The twins cheer quietly, following the King to the room where everyone else has vanished to.

    Seonghwa joins your side and looks at the window, basking in the colored light as he looks over the picture for what must be the millionth time. In his lifetime, he hasn't been able to find a single flaw.

  He looks down at you. Your skin is painted in a range of blue and yellow, pinks and greens. There's a patchy scratch on the majority of your cheek that's slipped his notice until now. Your eyebrows have screwed themselves up and your lip quivers.

   "Don't cry," he was essentially begging, "please, don't cry, (Y/n)."

You sniff in response, rubbing a stray tear away from your cheek. It's silent between you as you have a staring contest with the glass. "Fuck," you mumble as tears start to fall more often. "Ah, (Y/n)," he coos, moving to block your view of the heartbreaking image.

"I... It's just, I haven't seen them since they passed, Cheol put away their portrait... It breaks his heart to see them, but it breaks mine not to. I almost forgot what they looked like."

He doesn't say anything, simply opening his arms and letting you fill them. After so long, it feels the same. You're still shorter, but you've both grown. He's still strong, but now you caught up. You still turn your head to the left and place it on his chest. He still wraps one arm around your back and places the other on your shoulders. After all these years, you remember how secure he feels when your arms link around his waist. Even with the time that's passed, he can recall the fact you love when he rubs his thumb over your shoulder.

So much has happened to each of you and yet you both still have memorized each other's hugs. You used to be each others safe place. And though you're older and have met again in such pressing circumstances, it remains the same.

"Your highness," the familiar voice is just loud enough to startle you. "Yes, Yeosang?" You questions calmly, and it's a stark contrast to Seonghwas glare at the man. "Your brother asks for you, ma'am." You nod to dismiss him, and turn back to Seonghwa when he's gone.

"How do I look?"

"Look like you've been crying."

You tut your tongue and gently slap his shoulder with the back of your hand. He smiles as you do. "It'll be okay," he assures you as he fixes a stray from your neat hair, "it's dark in the dining hall."

He takes your hand and pulls you away from the image of your passed parents lazing in the garden.

𖢌

His footsteps are heavy. He's forcing his breathing to be slow. His heartbeat is going wild as he gets closer to the Kings quarters.

He steps in front of the guards and they knock on the double doors. "Prince Yeonjun, your majesty!" The Kings response is muffled by the walls, but clear enough for the guards to be confident in opening the doors.

Yeonjun steps in and looks over his shoulder as the doors close behind him, anything to keep his eyes away from King Kyujun. The doors slam shut and he finds a tapestry to inspect.

"Please, sit." He follows his voice and finds himself sitting across from the King on the large balcony, a round table littered in papers separates them.

"Thank you, your Majesty," he eagerly takes the wine he offers, hoping it would soothe his dry throat. He can't remember being so thirsty before the King called for him.

"How do you find your quarters?"

Yeonjuns lips are still occupied with the glass when the man speaks up, and he takes his time before speaking shortly. "Very nice, sire. Thank you."

"And your siblings?"

"I'm sure they're adjusting well, sire. We thank you, again, for your hospitality while we discuss our plans."

When he finally has the courage to look at the man, it calms his nerves. His crown is gone. His blouse is astray. His nose and cheeks carry a rosy hue from the frigid weather. He looks much more human.

"This is, of course, why I've asked you here."

"Of course."

Kyujun leans back into the wooden chair and lets out a sigh. "Once (Y/n) and Seonghwa are married, we will put our combined efforts against Lord Hwang. He's a vicious man," he tuts his tongue, annoyed at the mere mention of the Lord of Kherhai. "I've heard of the attacks on your family. I'm sorry for you loss and... rest assured, we will not let anything happen to you at this court."

    "Thank you, sire."

   "Your sister," he hesitates just a bit, "I've looked into quite a few people to help her plan the wedding. They'll meet with her tomorrow. I know she doesn't agree with the circumstances, but that doesn't mean it must be unpleasant."

   "I'm sure she will appreciate it, sire. She's been hesitant to do any planning on her own."

   Kyujun nods in response. He already knows this. He's kept close tabs on his only sons fiancée.

   "Sire, may I ask when the wedding is supposed to be taking place?"

"This week, if all goes well. Lord Hwang is no doubt sending men this way as we speak to get rid of the rest of the Choi family lineage." Kyujun doesn't seem to notice Yeonjuns pained expression, and if he does: he doesn't say anything about it.

   He, instead, hands the young man a map of Kherhai: diving head first into strategy.

𖢌

[svgartwinky]

🌷

I'm thinking of you laying there on the bed of a dimly lit room, in your flirty little skirt just waiting for someone to take you.

I start slowly getting closer to you starring you down, letting you know just how bad I want you. You start to feel the tension in the room escalating and I can hear your breathing pattern changing. I’m now just next to you, I start softly running my hand up the inside of your leg, inner thigh all the way to your stomach. I pause, take a glimpse at you, I want to see how you’re reacting to my touch. We briefly lock eyes and that’s my signal, your insistant lustful gaze has betrayed you. You haven’t uttered a single word but your body has now made it clear, you’re enjoying this moment and you sure as hell don’t want this to stop.

So I pick up where I left at, I start to run my hand on your body once more reaching for your hips, I lean my head closer to yours, gaze at your face for awhile. I slowly run my other hand trough your hair, down your neck and shoulder. Your skin feels so soft. I decide to play with the strap of your bra for a while, trying to figure out if I should take it off just now, as I push your strap to the side of your shoulder. And in that moment, as I begin to undress you, you start to feel particularly vulnerable, the intimacy of the moment is very shooting, isn’t it.

As I make my way up your upper back with my hand, you start to blush, your cheeks are turning red and you are submerged by a wave of burning desire, and you probably haven’t even noticed but your hips instinctively moved closer to me.

I have you stand up for me as I begin to wonder just how to dispose of you.

Should I start by making my way up, slowly grazing the exterior of your of thighs with the back of my hand ?

Or perhaps I should start by standing firmly in front of you, pinning you up against the wall, staring you right in the eyes.

Yeah.. I like the sound of that.

So I get real close to you, you start to take a step back. I keeptrying to get closer and you match my pace, for every step forward I take you take one backwards. Our eyes are locked and you start to grin because you know what’s coming next, it’s almost like we’re dancing really. But now I have you cornered, your back’s against the wall. So I lean in real close to you, guide your arms above your head, let out a couple of warm heavy breathes onto your neck.

You have me seduced, I can barely contain myself. Having you there hands up against the wall, it’s a bliss but you realize there's no going back. It's just you and me baby girl, in that moment you become entirely mine.

I have you spread your legs open for me, just a little bit.

I’m taking my time with you, contemplating that beautiful body of yours.

You're eye candy to me, and I'd make sure you know that by the way I looked at you. Let you know how every single one of your curves draws me just a little bit closer to the edge.

..I’m thinking about just how hard it is for me to contain myself, but you're worth it, I want to take all the time in the world for you.

I take your cheek in the palm of my hand and slowly move my lips closer to yours, only to deny you of that kiss at the last moment and get close to your ear.

Whisper something along the lines of

"you know.. I'm really enjoying this. Knowing that you're mine to take. Having your body under my control, all of you, at the mercy of my touch. Yeah that's right, I want you to surrender your body to me, surrender to my touch, precious. »

Of course I'd have started to run my fingers around the string of your panties, playing around with them, teasing you.

…Should I push them aside and reach for the promised land like your body is begging me to do ? Or should I continue to tease you and just pull your panties upward just a bit, have them spread your lips open for me..?

I absolutely loved that, how wonderful that sounds. I love opening my inbox with these messaged scenarios. They most definitely get me wet!💦💓