#i think sometimes it's a bit hard writing a character in love when i know nothing about it

[thedevotionaltour]

even for period typical ableism it still drives me nuts for karen to go oh poor matt how can he deal and get around as if he hasn't been blind most of his life at this point and living on his own by himself as an adult for his entire adult life after college and has also lived in the city his whole life like girl use your damn brain he can get around by himself just fine. good god. like take five seconds to use your brain. literally adult man who lives by himself if nothing else that should tell you he is fine and when he needs assistance has the knowledge and ability to go get it you act as if he can't even walk on the sidewalk by himself. he literally shows up to work by himself. it drives me up the wall sometimes how she sees proof of him functioning fine independently literally witnesses it on the daily and still thinks these things. like again foggy isn't great either bc again the period typical ableism (and just general ableism in the world outside of this period as this is a common attitude of viewing disabled people as helpless and unable to function even if they are people who do live independently (and im not touching on people who do need extra support and caretaking in this context. as this post is about these characters in the context of a story. so im talking about what we see there instead of any truly meaningful nuanced way) but the writing here is like. Particularly this way due to the time) he has a modicum more of understanding that matt is literally a capable grown adult man. literally told karen matt is a big boy who can handle himself and then karen went b-b-but you forget he's blind as if foggy hasn't known him for years of his life and is his best friend like PLEASE SEE HIM AS AN ADULT. I AM GOING TO GO INSANE. PLEASE RESPECT HIM IF YOU LOVE HIM SO DEARLY. AND EVEN IF YOU DIDN'T. JUST RESPECT HIM AS A PERSON!!!!!!

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[daenysx]

when will i fall in love and get to write stuff about it

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[lostalioth]

𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫

→ premise: sometimes logan’s age showed more than it normally would and so just once you called him an old man, affectionally of course. Well he was determined to show you he wasn’t one.

→ pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, nicknames [baby, sweet girl, princess], daddy kink, both reader and logan use old man as a nickname, oral [f receiving], unprotected sex, established relationship, slight overstimulation.

→ a/n: the pictures/moodborad above are purely for vibes :) you can imagine any logan pretty much for this fic i think. this is mt first time writing logan so sorry if hes out of character and sorry for any mistakes this was written and proof read at 1am.

Logan wasn’t the type of man to be insecure about his age, his body and face didn’t necessarily show it like how it did on others obviously. He was well aware he was way older than you, he was much older than most people. His age showed more with his taste in music and movies, even in some of the outdated slang he frequently used.

You were currently laid up in your shared bed with Logan. You loved being curled up in his lap, your head resting on his chest cuddled up against him. A cigar nestled between Logan's lips, him periodically puffing out smoke. One of his arms lazily resting over your body holding you against him. An older movie was playing on the tv in the background, the volume was high enough for you to hear it, however you could hardly pay attention. Your mind was too lost in how domestic and old timey it all was, the feeling making your heart flutter.

“You know this was my favorite movie, well one of 'em used to watch it all the time” Logan's gruff voice breaks you from your train of thought.

You look up at your boyfriend and smile softly, his gaze fixated on the black and white images flashing across the screen. You chuckle softly and reach up towards his neck to thread your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. An action that Logan has come to love and even crave on the days when life gets just a little too much.

“You're such an old man” your voice breaks his focus , it was teasing and full of affection as you said it. Logan could clearly hear it, and your statement was correct and didn't bother him, however he couldn't help the little plan forming in his head to mess with you. Shaking your head lightly you turn your attention back on the television.

“Ya’ wanna say that again sweet girl?” He leans his head down, all his attention now glued to you. His words came out almost mockingly instantly making your gaze snap back up to him. He grabs ahold of your chin so that your focus and your eyes stay on him. You knew that teasing tone of voice like the back of your hand by now and what it meant. It made the flutter in your heart drop to your stomach, his arm that was wrapped around your body tightens. You can feel him starting to grow harder against your thigh, making you squirm a bit in his grasp. You swallow hard, your voice suddenly caught in your throat. Logan watches as your pupils dilate and that sweet smell that he's become addicted to fills his nose, giving away your own growing arousal.

“Cause i'm thinkin’ you just called me old princess” He cocks his head to the side in a teasing manner, his lips breaking out in a smirk. Still not being able to find your words you shake your head ‘no’ causing him to chuckle deeply. “No? cause i think ya’ did baby, yeah i think you called me an old man” His words come out in almost a growl as he leans forward, pushing you down on your back. His body now perfectly nestled between your legs as he hovers over you, pinning you down with his weight. His large rough hands holding onto your hips, one slowly drifting and pushing up the t-shirt you had on. A t-shirt that looked an awful lot like the one he's been looking for all week.

“Maybe i did.. but you are an actual old man Logan, you’re much older than me baby” Finally finding your voice you attempt to explain yourself, though you knew he wasn't actually upset by your comment. His strained cock pressed against your clothed cunt being more than an indication of that. Your damp panties and his jeans doing nothing to stop him from feeling the way your pussy was throbbing already from his teasing.

“Yea? Well ima show you just what this old man can do huh” He questioned, barely giving you a moment to answer. Wasting no time he has your shirt pushed up revealing your bare tits and his other hand pulling your panties down your legs. Sliding down your body and the bed he slowly kisses down your exposed chest and stomach until his head has made it between your spread thighs. “Logan..” you whine softly, your eyes glued to his every move as you grow more impatient. A rush of cold air hits your lower half when he finally rids you of your soaked underwear.

That damn smirk not wavering from his face as he grabs ahold of your thighs and nearly growls when his tongue finally laps at your pussy. “Fuck i dont think i’ll ever get over just how fuckin’ good you taste baby” his words come out a bit mumbled as his face is buried between your folds. “Lo..” you whine in embarrassment at his statement. Your slick had coated his face in seconds, though it was clear he could care less, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. Even biting the nub softly causing your hips to buck up against his face, his scruffy facial hair rubbing your inner thighs. He groans against you and grips your legs tighter pulling you closer to his mouth.

“Daddy…fuck!” You gasp softly and moan at the sensation and tighten your thighs around his head, Logan's favorite thing was to feel your plush thighs squeeze his head. His adamantium skull being able to take the pressure. You can feel him smile against you at both the name and the action. “Atta girl, princess. Such a good girl for ya’ old man” he praises, his deep voice vibrating through your body.

Letting your clit go Logan pulls away for a moment, dropping his grip on one of your thighs as well to bring his hand and spread apart your lips. Leaning his head back a bit he spits on your pussy, his saliva sliding down to your throbbing hole. “Fuck she always looks so pretty sweet girl” he hums in approaval and admiration at your pussy. His eyes finally lift back up to your face, he takes note of your already blissed out look. “No cuming til I tell you baby, ya’ got it?” He questions, a small smile on his face that was covered in you.

“Yes daddy” you whine, your voice coming out a bit soft as you were taking the time he was giving you to catch your breath.

With a small smack to the side of your ass he dives his head back down, sticking his tongue out flat and licking a strip up the center of your cunt. Growling and burying his face between your legs again he laps and sucks at your clit and folds. Your hips having a mind of their own buck up against his mouth, nearly riding his face. His hips rutting up against the bed of their own accord as well, his precum now leaking through his boxers a bit. His cock straining against his jeans as wonton moans and whimpers leave your lips. Your eyes screwing shut in pleasure as his tongue every now and then pushes inside you and his nose nudges your swollen nub.

You could feel your climax quickly approaching, pushing your fingers through Logan's signature tufts of hair and pulling his face closer. “Fuck- Lo…Daddy please” you moan out pleading with your boyfriend to let you cum. He squeezed your thigh and groaned roughly against you, you knew that was his way of saying ‘not yet’. You whine and tug harder on his hair causing him to let out a small muffled moan. He pulls his face away a bit and with his hand that wasn't squeezing your leg he slips two fingers through your lips, collecting his spit and your slick together. Continuing his attack on your nearly now oversensitive clit he slides his thick soaked fingers inside you stretching you slowly. The rough pads of them instantly finding that spot deep inside you.

“Daddy I don't- uh shit! I don't know how much longer I can hold on, please Logannn!” You moan and whine out his name as your hips thrust back against his skilled fingers and rut against his face. Your high teetering on the edge as you try your hardest to hold it back. “Cum baby, cum on daddy's face princess” he commands and in an instant your body responds and allows your climax to hit you head on.

A string of curses leave Logan's lips as he laps at your cum as it leaks out of you, broken whines and small moans leave yours as he draws out your climax a bit longer. Finally emerging from between your legs, his lips swollen and pink, the whole lower half of his face covered in yours and his combined mess. Heat floods your face a bit at the sight, though your boyfriends still got that smirk glued to his pretty face. The dynamic of you being nearly entirely naked and him still entirely clothed caused an ache to settle back in your core as if Logan hadn’t just made you cum.

He makes his way bad up your body, quickly pulling off his shirt as well as finally pulling yours up and over your head, definitely leaving you entirely naked now. Leaning down, pressing his crotch right up against yours, his clothed bulging cock nudging open your wet and sticky folds. His lips hover over yours as his hand slides up your side, the other brushing over your breast before it’s wrapped around your neck and pinning you back against the bed. He squeezes your neck softly making you let out a whimper.

“You were saying baby?” His voice comes out deep and a bit hoarse as he questions your previous comment again. “Not callin’ me an old man now are ya’ sweet girl, noo cause you cant even talk” he mocks, a small smile on his face as he rocks his hips up against your pussy, the rough material of his jeans stimulating your abused bundle of nerves setting it off again. Your slick creates a wet spot on his jeans the more he grinds his dick against you.

“Won’t do it again i swear daddy, you're not an old man” you whimper softly as your hands grab at his arms and hands, your fingers rubbing at his knuckles where his claws rip through the skin. When his fly zipper brushes your clit you let out a short moan and move to grab at the waist of his jeans tugging, trying to get him to take them off. Tears lightly coat your eyelashes as you bat them at Logan. He scoffs softly and shakes his head at you as he lets go of your neck to undo his belt and the buttons to his jeans, pulling off his belt and jeans. You watch with a sparkle of excitement in your eyes, your chest heaving in impatience, hands wandering his body and rubbing over his muscly arms and board chest. He tugs his boxers down his thighs as he grabs your legs, wrapping your thighs around his waist. His tip leaking precum is redden and twitching as he rubs it through your lips before pushing at your hole.

“Come on princess, apologize for it” he goes painfully slow as he pushes inside you. “Apologize nicely for calling daddy an old man” he grins and brings his hand up to your boob, brushing his rough thumb over your nipple. You gasp softly and whine, wiggling your hips both in protest and to try and get him inside you faster.

Realizing he won't keep going further til you apologize, you give in. Pulling him down and closer, you wrap your arms around his neck and look into his eyes. “I'm really sorry for calling you an old man Lo, i didn't mean it i promise. You're not an old man daddy” you whine and brush your lips softly against his. “Oh fuck, you’re so sweet on me baby i love it” he growls and thrusts inside you hard as his lips crash against yours. You moan out loudly the sound muffled in Logan's mouth as his hips snap against yours. His cock thrusting deep inside you, hitting that spongy spot making your brain go foggy. Kissing you hard and passionately as his hands roam your body not being able to stop himself from touching you everywhere, you're all his anyway.

“My sweet, sweet princess, takin’ it so good from your old man huh?” He groans and presses his forehead against yours as your hips bounce off his. All you can do is frantically nod and mumble and whine about how good he feels and say yes daddy. Your nails digging into his back and running through his hair.

Logan may be an old man but he was your old man and he definitely didnt fuck like one. He knew how to keep up with his sweet little young girlfriend.

→ a/n: hope you enjoyed my loves, PLEASE SEND ME LOGAN REQUESTS< MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND IM CURRENTLY OBESSED WITH THIS MAN

[whispers-whump]

Some writing advice

that I like to use when I write. None of this is meant to be taken as hard and fast rules, they’re just things I like to do/keep in mind when I’m writing and I thought maybe other people would enjoy! <3

Never say what you mean

This is an offshoot of the very common “show don’t tell” advice, which I think can be confusing in application and unhelpful for scenes where telling is actually the right move. Instead, I keep the advice to never say exactly what I mean in stories.

By using a combination of showing and telling to hint at what you really mean, you force your reader to think and figure it out on their own, which makes for a more satisfying reading experience.

You might show a character getting angry and defensive in response to genuine care and concern. You could tell the audience that the character doesn’t see/talk to their parents often. But never outright give the real meaning that the character feels unlovable because of their strained relationship with their parents and as a result they don’t know how to react to being cared for.

Your readers are smart, you don’t need to spoon feed them.

Be sparse with the important things

You know how in a lot of movies there’s that tense scene where a character is hiding from something/someone and you can only just see this person/thing chasing them through a crack in the door? You get a very small glimpse of whatever’s after the character, sometimes only shadows being visible.

Do that in your writing. Obscure the important things in scenes by overdescribing the unimportant and underdescribing the important.

You might describe the smell of a space, the type of wood the floor is made of, the sound of work boots moving slowly across the room, a flashlight in the character’s hand. And there’s a dead body, laying in a pool of blood in the far corner of the room, red soaking into the rug. Then move on, what kind of rug is it? What is the color, patterns, and type of fabric of the rug?

Don’t linger on the details of the body, give your reader’s imagination some room to work while they digest the mundane you give them.

Dialogue is there to tell your story too

There’s a lot of advice out there about how to make dialogue more realistic, which is absolutely great: read aloud to yourself, put breaks where you feel yourself take a breath, reword if you’re stuttering over your written dialogue. But sometimes, in trying to make dialogue sound more realistic, a little bit of its function is lost.

Dialogue is more than just what your characters say, dialogue should serve a purpose. It’s a part of storytelling, and it can even be a bridging part of your narration.

If you have a scene with a lot of internal conflict that is very narration-heavy, breaking it up with some spoken dialogue can be a way to give some variety to those paragraphs without moving onto a new idea yet; people talk to themselves out loud all of the time.

Dialogue is also about what your characters don’t say. This can mean the character literally doesn’t say anything, they give half-truths, give an expected answer rather than the truth (“I’m fine”), omit important information, or outright lie.

Play with syntax and sentence structure

You’ve heard this advice before probably. Short, choppy sentences and a little onomatopoeia work great for fast-paced action scenes, and longer sentences with more description help slow your pacing back down.

That’s solid advice, but what else can you play with? Syntax and sentence structure are more than just the length of a sentence.

Think about things like: repetition of words or ideas, sentence fragments, stream of consciousness writing, breaking syntax conventions, and the like. Done well, breaking some of those rules we were taught about language can be a more compelling way to deliver an emotion, theme, or idea that words just can’t convey.

Would love to hear any other tips and tricks other people like to use, so feel free to share!!!

[lostingrayrain]

hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗

I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....

I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Word Count: 1454

Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence

Mr. Crawling

He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!

Do you love him?

He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.

He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.

He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.

Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.

He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.

If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.

He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.

Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair

You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.

But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.

Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?

Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.

He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.

He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.

He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.

He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.

He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.

Mr. Gap

He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.

You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.

When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.

He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.

He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.

He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.

But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.

He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.

Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.

Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.

Mr. Hood

He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.

You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.

No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.

He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.

Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.

He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.

Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.

He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.

But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.

He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.

Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.

But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.

Mr. Machete

He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.

Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.

It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?

He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.

But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.

Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.

He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?

He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.

He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.

Mr. Scarletella

You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.

You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.

You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.

He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.

He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.

Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.

Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.

[kxsagi]

Helllloo

Can you write about the reader being too hesitant to get in a relationship with the blue lock boys because her previous partner was abusive.you can choose who else to write about but please include the itoshi brothers

“𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞”

a/n: i know i wrote in my request rules that i don’t write for abuse, but just to clarify, it’s for requests about the character abusing reader. i saw elle (@neeeooon) post something similar and i agree with her, we both don’t want to portray characters that way! i also DO NOT promote abuse of any kind, whether that is physical, verbal, emotional, etc. 

oh how kaiser’s was so hard to write

and i love men i trust OMG

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael

itoshi rin

rin struggles a bit at first because he's naturally blunt and closed off. 

but he can tell there's something heavy behind your hesitance, and instead of pushing you, he retreats slightly, not out of disinterest, but to give you control. 

his protectiveness shows in small things: walking on the outside of the sidewalk, scanning the room when you look uncomfortable, quietly stepping in when someone gets too close. 

when you finally tell him what happened, his fists clench under the table. 

"i should’ve known. i’m sorry i didn’t." 

he isn’t the best with emotional words, but he changes – starts using softer tones, asks if he can touch you, waits for you to be ready. 

"you don’t have to trust me right away. but i’ll wait. however long it takes." 

itoshi sae

sae’s the kind who reads between the lines, he knows something’s up from the start. 

he doesn’t say anything until you’re ready, just gives you space and acts extra gentle. 

lets you set the pace, always. 

when you finally open up, he’s quiet for a moment, then says, “i’m glad you told me.” 

he doesn’t ask for details, doesn’t poke at wounds, he just holds your hand (if you let him) and tells you, “that’s not love. and you’ll never experience anything like that again. not with me.” 

makes a point of reminding you every day, in his own way, that you’re safe now. 

protective in a quiet, but fierce way. if anyone so much as raises their voice at you in public, he’s already stepping in. 

isagi yoichi

isagi’s patient, so patient, you’d think he was waiting for forever to start. 

he notices how you flinch sometimes when voices get loud or how you freeze when someone’s hand moves too fast near you. 

he never asks right away, he just quietly adjusts. 

speaks softer, keeps his distance, always asks "is this okay?" before he does anything, even just brushing your hand. 

when you finally open up about your past, he listens with tears in his eyes and no interruptions. 

“you don’t ever have to rush with me. i’m not going anywhere.” 

he means it. he shows you love in the calmest ways: leaving your favorite snacks, sending you good morning messages, giving you all the space you need. 

nagi seishiro

nagi may seem indifferent, but he's incredibly observant when it comes to you. 

he doesn't pressure or pry, he just... sticks around. 

when he realizes something’s wrong, he starts showing affection in ways that feel like no-pressure love. 

lets you hog the blankets, watches your comfort shows even when he doesn’t understand them, plays games next to you just to keep you company. 

when you tell him about your past, his expression doesn't change much, but he does start reading up on how to support someone who's been through abuse. 

"you don't have to be scared of me. i won't hurt you. ever." 

nagi doesn't just say it. he proves it, through every slow, careful move, through every time he lets you take the lead. 

kaiser michael

when you hesitate, he notices. immediately. not because you say anything, but because he’s lived in survival mode, too. 

he doesn’t get offended when you flinch away from touch or pull back when he gets too close. he just blinks, steps back, and pretends it doesn’t sting. 

at first, he masks his concern with sarcasm, throwing out lines like “did i scare you that bad, liebling?” with a wry grin. 

but your silence? the way your eyes dart away, unsure and vulnerable? it reminds him too much of his past. 

the joking fades. 

"you don't have to tell me anything," he says one night, voice uncharacteristically quiet, "but i know what it's like to be hurt by someone who should’ve protected you.” 

when you finally open up, he doesn't ask for details. he doesn't push. he just listens, eyes unreadable. 

"so that’s why... you’re always so careful," he mutters, then meets your gaze, softer than he’s ever looked before. "i get it. i do." 

he makes changes instantly – stops making sudden movements, starts warning you before touching you, even changes the way he jokes so it never sounds mocking. 

being loved by kaiser becomes this strange, healing thing. 

he’ll jokingly ask for consent like “may i have the great honor of kissing your hand, milady?” 

but if you say no? he doesn’t pout or guilt you. he just smiles and says “maybe next time.” 

the first time you apologize for needing space, he looks almost hurt. 

"don’t say sorry for protecting yourself. you think i don’t understand? i spent years doing the same thing.” 

the truth is, kaiser’s scared too. not of you, but of hurting you accidentally. 

he’s been on both sides of pain. so he walks on eggshells for a while, but you notice how sincere it is. 

"we’re both messed up," he jokes one night, resting his forehead against yours, "but maybe... we can be okay together." 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #13 死

† the wound that always bleeds †

"Like a mathematical equation, turns out sleeping next to a warm body has always been the solution, which to Jungkook is ironic. Just how ironic it is to Taehyung, that Jeon keeps pretending he's above everything and everyone."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 6,5k

rating: mature

content: walk of shame (not), sharing secrets, best friend gossip, 8 hours of sleep for jeon (yay), v's sadistic streak shining through, v being a psychotic lil' shit, takama stepping in to save the day, v ruining lives for the fun of it and jimin being too soft for his own good (why do i always do this shit to jimin bro)

☠ author's note ☠

First of all, Kiki Nation on Tumblr is FUCKING UNHINGED. The goal was 200 notes and it took y'all less than 24 hours. I'm flabbergasted. But also it was smut so... understandable. I see you, horny little gremlins. I respect your dedication.

So here's chapter 13! (I had to proofread this while revising tax law so if something doesn't make sense, it's your fault somehow. Don't question my logic.)

AHHHHH I finally got to show off V's more psychotic nature! His little sadistic side coming out to play! He's such a little shit I love him. Writing characters with mental instability is my emotional support activity.

Well well well, things are slowly unveiling, huh? So what the fuck happened?! Who is Sylvia?! WHAT IS GOING ON?!

That's for me to know and you to lose sleep over for now (◕‿◕✿)

You know, sometimes I genuinely forget you don't have access to the absolute chaos that is my brain. Like it's genuinely hard for me to understand this from an outside perspective because I have the whole plot mapped out in excruciating detail, but you're still in the dark and it's like—is it too obvious? Is it too vague? AM I BEING COHERENT?

The eternal struggle of writing mysteries when you already know the answer. It's like trying to play poker while everyone can see your cards except you think they can't but maybe they can a little bit?? This is why I don't sleep.

Anyway, that's it for now! Love you all, you enablers of my questionable coping mechanisms! (ง •̀_•́)ง

EDIT: If you haven’t read the prologue… you must. Otherwise this is going to be hard to understand bahahaha.

⚔ socials ⚔

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The alarm rips through your dreams like a knife, and god—you've never hated a sound more in your life.

Your eyelids feel like they're made of lead, your body heavy with the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that comes from... well. Last night's activities.

The blankets are so warm, and you smell like pine and sex and masculine. Just five more minutes...

Then reality bitch-slaps you awake. You're in Jeon's tent. At dawn. Which is exactly where you're not supposed to be.

His leg is thrown over yours, arm draped across your waist like he's trying to keep you there. It's almost... cute?

No, not cute. Definitely not cute. Just annoying. And inconvenient.

You nudge him with your elbow, trying to wiggle free without fully waking him. The grunt he makes is surprisingly soft.

"Stay still..." His voice is rough with sleep, half-muffled against your shoulder. "Just five more minutes. Let me doze off again before you go."

You huff but stop moving. It's just five minutes, right? Not like anyone's awake yet anyway. And he's so warm, his breath steady against your skin.

It's... nice. In a way that's probably dangerous.

His breathing evens out quickly, dropping back into sleep. The mighty Chief Jeon, passed out and cuddling. If you weren't so tired, you'd probably laugh.

When you finally ease out from under him, his body twitches slightly—this tiny, unconscious movement that's so unexpectedly human.

It's so weird seeing him like this, soft and sleep-warm skin. Almost makes you forget he's the gang's deadliest assassin.

Or one of them, if you consider V.

Better not tell Jeon you thought that, anyway.

You wiggle back into your clothes as quietly as possible, trying not to wake him—leggings, panties, bra, that stupid crewneck that started all this. No need to give the rest of the camp a morning show.

You crawl out of his tent like the trained seductress you are—silent and graceful. Well, as graceful as anyone can be at ass o'clock in the morning.

The camp is dead quiet except for the occasional snore from distant tents.

Your heart doesn't stop hammering until you're safely away from his tent. The morning air hits your skin, fresh and sharp, washing away the lingering scent of pine and sex.

With each step, you build up that sense of normalcy that someone who didn't fuck a chief last night should wear. No walk of shame here—just a perfectly normal morning stroll. Nothing to see.

The portable table catches your eye as you pass—someone's left out water bottles and snacks like offerings to the gods of late-night hookups. You grab a bottle, the plastic cool against your palm. The water helps, but it doesn't quite wash away the taste of him.

Not that you're thinking about that. Nope. Not at all.

You take another sip of water, trying to convince yourself you're totally fine with how things went down.

(You're not.)

Because seriously—what kind of assassin doesn't carry protection? The absolute audacity of Jeon, walking around looking like that, with those hands and that mouth and those fucking bedroom eyes, and not being prepared?

Criminal. Actually criminal.

Not that you're thinking about his hands. Or his mouth. Or the way he'd worked you up so perfectly, taking you apart piece by piece until you were shaking.

You drain half the water bottle in one go, but it doesn't help. Your body's still humming with leftover want, still craving more than just grinding and kisses.

Because fuck—it was good, but you know it could've been better. Could've had him filling you up, stretching you open, making you see stars...

If only he had brought condoms with him.

"Fucking hell," you mutter, slightly crushing bottle. The plastic crackles satisfyingly in your grip.

You can't even properly be mad at him. Not when he'd made sure you came first, not when he'd been so attentive to every little sound and movement.

But still.

The fact that you'd been this close to getting properly railed by Chief Jeon, only to be cockblocked by his own lack of preparation?

Infuriating.

Your core throbs at the memory of his cock pressed against you, at how big he'd felt even through layers of fabric. God, the things he could've done to you if he'd just—

Fucking stupid sniper. The audacity of leaving you wanting more.

And oh, there will be a next time. You're getting that dick properly, even if you have to staple condoms to his fucking forehead.

Because someone who looks like that and kisses like that and uses his hands like that? Yeah. You're not done with him yet.

"Good morning."

JM's soft voice yanks you out of your definitely-not-horny thoughts. He looks adorably rumpled, all oversized sweater and messy salmon hair. His cheeks are pink from the cold morning air, making him look even softer than usual.

"Morning," you manage, grateful that your voice sounds normal.

He takes a sip from his own water bottle and you mirror him, mostly to have something to do with your hands.

"Sleep well?" You ask because it's polite, and also because talking about sleep is way better than thinking about what you were doing instead of sleeping last night.

His smile is warm and genuine. "Yeah, I did. And you?"

"Yeah." You nod, aiming for casual.

Like you didn't spend half the night grinding against Chief fucking Jeon. Like you're not still feeling the ghost of his hands on your skin.

Just a normal morning chat. Nothing to see here.

You give JM a quick wave and head back to your tent, trying not to look suspicious. Like you didn't just spend the night getting railed—well, almost railed by his coworker.

God, that's weird to think about.

When you peek inside, Yunjin's already stirring, one eye cracked open in the dim light.

"Y/N?" Her voice is thick with sleep.

"Yeah, it's me." You whisper back, watching her untangle herself from Eunchae, who's apparently decided Yunjin makes an excellent teddy bear.

It's kind of adorable, actually.

She sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes. When she looks at you again, her brow furrows.

"You didn't sleep here?"

You open your mouth, ready to spill everything—about Jeon's hands and his mouth and how fucking good he'd been—but snap it shut. Not exactly tent-appropriate conversation.

"No."

Her eyes go wide, and she leans in close. "Did you sleep outside? In the freezing cold?"

"No, no, I didn't sleep—" You cut yourself off, suddenly very aware of all the sleeping bodies around you.

The tent walls might as well be tissue paper when it comes to privacy. A quick check outside confirms you're clear.

You duck back in, keeping your voice low. "We can't talk about this here."

You can see the exact moment sleep leaves Yunjin's eye, replaced by that familiar spark of gossip-hungry curiosity. Her lips curl into a grin that says she knows something juicy is coming.

"Okay, I'll be ready in 5." She's already reaching for her clothes, suddenly very awake.

You duck out of the tent to give her privacy, leaning against a nearby pine tree. The bark digs into your back through your clothes, but you welcome the discomfort. Keeps you from getting lost in memories of other things that were digging into you last night...

Nope. Not thinking about Jeon's hands. Or his mouth. Or the way he'd—

Fuck.

When Yunjin finally emerges, her pink hair is a mess and she's practically vibrating with curiosity. You tilt your head toward the edge of camp, where the trees grow thicker. Perfect for spilling secrets that definitely shouldn't reach certain ears.

You find a fallen log away from the other tents, tucked between snow-dusted pines. The wood is freezing through your pants, but whatever. Some things are worth a cold ass.

Yunjin plops down next to you, already leaning in close. She smells like campfire smoke and cotton candy.

"So, what's going on? You look like you've been through hell and back."

More like heaven and back, but you're not about to say that out loud.

You take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. The memory of his hands, his mouth, his everything makes your pulse skip.

"Jeon happened."

"Jeon?" Yunjin's eyebrows shoot up so fast they nearly disappear into her forehead. "As in, Mr. I'll-Kill-You-With-My-Thumb Jeon? That Jeon? What the hell did he do now?"

There's teasing in her voice but you catch the flash of concern in her eye.

Sweet, but unnecessary.

"He didn't do anything... wrong." God, your face is burning. "We were alone and things got... intense."

"Intense how?" She draws out the words, scoffing. "Did you two fight each other to death—?"

"It's not like that." You cut her off before she can get carried away. "I mean, we did fight at first but then—well—"

You gesture vaguely, like that explains everything.

"We didn't plan it. It just... happened."

"What happened?"

She crosses her arms, looking supremely unconvinced. Then, presses her lips together, biting back a smile.

"So what, you got stuck and stepbro came to your rescue—"

"Yunjin!" You slap a hand over her mouth, mortified.

Your skin's still tingling with phantom touches and she's out here making porn references? You drop your hand with a scowl that's only half-serious.

Looking anywhere but at her knowing grin, you mutter, "it was mutual."

The words come out barely above a whisper, like saying it too loud might summon him. Or worse—his ego.

Yunjin's smirk turns absolutely feral. "Oh my god, I knew there was something brewing between you two since the croissant thing. Come on, spill the dirty details."

You laugh, but your neck's getting hot just thinking about it. Leaning closer, you drop your voice even lower.

"Well, one minute we were fighting, and the next..."

You tell her about his hands, his mouth, the way he'd taken you apart piece by piece. How every touch had felt like lightning under your skin.

"He's like a fucking storm," you try to explain, but words feel inadequate.

How do you describe the tempest that is Jeon?

"And?" She's practically bouncing now, pink hair falling in her face as she leans in.

"And it was... intense. Like our bodies just clicked, you know? The way he touched me, the way he moved..."

"Holy shit." Yunjin lets out a low whistle. "Sounds like Chief Murder-Eyes knows how to fuck. I'm almost jealous."

You can't help but laugh, relief flooding through you at finally being able to talk about it. "I mean, we didn't actually—you know. No condoms. But still, with everything going on... with the gang and the rules..."

"Well, it's just fucking, right?" She cuts in, voice matter-of-fact. "You didn't break any rules."

Her words hit different, reassuring—exactly what you'd said to Jeon last night.

Right. No strings attached. Just two people scratching an itch.

"Yeah." You shrug, aiming for casual. "Just some good ol' fucking."

Yunjin's laugh is warm, understanding. "Well then, there's nothing to worry about. Just be careful. Jeon's not just any guy. From what I've heard, he's got layers, and not all of them are pretty."

You snort, rolling your eyes.

"Pffft, I know." You lean back. "I only have eyes for the pretty. And his dick."

That sets you both off cackling like teenagers sharing secrets behind the bleachers. It feels good to laugh about it, to make light of something that could've been way more complicated.

Yunjin stands, brushing pine needles off her pants. "Well, I gotta head back before they start sending out search parties for us. But we'll talk more about this later, yeah?"

"Yeah, later."

You're grateful she's not making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Just two adults having some mind-blowing- well, almost mind-blowing sex. No feelings, no drama.

She punches your shoulder playfully before heading back to camp, leaving you alone with memories of callouses on your skin and that fucking lip ring against your mouth.

Not that you're thinking about round two.

The early morning light bleeds through the tent, and for the first time—his eyes are not open to perceive it.

Jungkook stirs slowly, consciousness creeping in like the dawn. His hand reaches out, seeking the familiar cold touch of his phone screen.

Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Eight fucking hours without a single nightmare clawing at his mind. No cold sweats, no jolting awake with a scream lodged in his throat.

Just... peace.

His eyes drift to the empty space beside him, still holding a ghost of warmth where you had been. The indent in his pillow, the lingering scent of chai tea mixed with his pine—evidence that last night wasn't just a fevered dream.

Interesting.

The tactician in him can't help but analyze this development.

Eight hours of proper sleep, achieved simply by having another body next to his. The data suggests a correlation worth exploring. It's purely scientific interest, of course —nothing to do with how your quiet breathing had somehow matched his own, creating a rhythm that had lulled him into the deepest sleep he'd had in months.

His lips twitch, almost forming a smile.

Who would have thought that the solution to his insomnia would be so... straightforward?

Just add another warm body to the equation.

Simple.

Efficient.

The gang's best sniper, finally getting proper rest because of a quick hookup.

There's probably irony in there somewhere.

Jungkook stretches, feeling unusually light. His muscles are loose, relaxed in a way that has nothing to do with the previous night's activities.

Well, not entirely due to them.

Eight hours.

He could get used to this.

Jungkook sits up, letting the cool morning air hit his skin. Eight hours of actual sleep has him feeling... different. Not better, exactly. Just less like death warmed over.

He takes his time straightening his tent—a habit drilled into him and not voluntarily.

When he makes it outside, the camp is quiet except for the occasional bird call. His hands find his pockets as he heads toward the mess area, following the siren call of caffeine. The neat row of coffee cans almost makes up for sleeping on the ground.

Almost.

But then he sees V.

And just like that, his rare good mood evaporates.

Evaporates fast.

Jungkook's tongue clicks—automatic. His body already tightens before his mind even catches up. For a second, he considers turning back, caffeine be damned. But no. That'd hand the bastard a win, and Jeon doesn't hand out victories before breakfast.

V's lounging like he owns the clearing. Hair a tousled mess, skin flushed from either a fight or a fuck—Jeon doesn't care which. He just notes the details, stores them. It's habit. Just another target to assess.

The bastard tracks his approach with lazy, half-lidded eyes and that signature smirk—like he already knows he's about to ruin something.

Jungkook grabs a can off the table. Doesn't even look at V yet.

"Had fun last night?" The words come out dry, flat. No bite. Just noise.

V lifts his chin, amused. "Some of us don't need to buy intimacy with imported espresso machines."

Jungkook opens the can with a sharp hiss. Keeps his eyes on the label. "Didn't realize desperation was charming now."

"I call it efficiency." V stretches his arms overhead, exposing fresh marks on his throat. "In and out. Simple. No cleanup. You should try it—might loosen that iron rod you've got jammed up your spine."

Jungkook takes a slow sip of bitter coffee and finally looks at him. "You're bleeding self-worth all over the ground. Try wiping it up before someone slips."

V laughs, delighted. "There he is. I was starting to worry you'd gone full ghost. Thought maybe you finally snapped and joined the meditation club upstairs."

Jungkook doesn't answer. He's already turning away, walking slowly toward the edge of camp—toward the trees. Not far. Just enough distance to mute V's noise.

Of course, V follows. He always does.

"You know what your real problem is?" V's voice floats lazily behind him. "You think control's the same thing as peace."

Jungkook says nothing. Another sip. The coffee's still shit. V's steps crunch through the grass behind him. Closer now.

"But it's not. You're not calm, Jeon. You're just buried."

Jungkook stops. Just briefly. Looks up at the sky like it might offer patience.

V grins, eyes glittering. "Bet it gets lonely. All that quiet. All that nobility. Ever wonder why no one's lining up to warm your bed these days?"

Jungkook doesn't flinch. Just watches a bird take off from the trees. "Didn't realize we were counting bodies now. Thought you preferred keeping score in blood."

"Oh, I do," V murmurs, stepping beside him, too close. "But you—God, you used to have heat, you know that? Used to burn. Now it's all smoke and mirrors. All that rage shoved behind protocol and detachment."

Jungkook doesn't look at him, but his hand tightens around the can.

V keeps pushing, voice sweet as poison. "You used to laugh. Fuck, remember that? You'd stay up past curfew, cheat on drills, get into knife fights for fun. Now look at you—clockwork killer with a loyalty complex."

"You done?" Jungkook's voice is sharp now. Controlled, but edged.

"Not even close." V steps in front of him, cuts off the path. "See, I get it now. You stopped fucking because you can't do casual anymore. Too dangerous, right? Someone breathes near you and you start imagining futures."

Jungkook's jaw tightens.

V leans forward. "What was it RM said? 'Attachment makes you weak'? Or did you have to learn that one the hard way?"

"Careful," Jungkook says, low.

V just smiles. "I'm not touching your secrets, Jeon. Just pointing out the obvious. You're terrified of getting close again. You think if you fuck anyone, they'll catch feelings. Or worse—you will."

Jungkook doesn't blink. Doesn't speak. But the can in his hand dents slightly under his grip.

V notices. Of course he does.

"I mean, maybe that's why no one touches you anymore." He tilts his head, mock-thoughtful. "Not because you're intimidating. Not because you're better. But because they all see it—the grief in your bones. The guilt. Like it might rub off."

"You talk a lot for someone with nothing to say."

V grins, stepping aside, letting him pass. "And you say nothing hoping it makes you mysterious. But guess what, Jeon? I see right through that bullshit."

Jungkook exhales slowly through his nose. The air is cool, the trees just ahead. He keeps walking. He doesn't rise. Not yet.

But V's still behind him.

And he's not done.

Jungkook moves, calm steps through dew-soaked grass. The can in his hand hisses with pressure, dented from his grip, but he doesn't look back.

"You know what your problem is, Jeon?" V's voice cuts through the morning air, sing-song soft. "You're so far up your own ass you can't see what a joke you've become."

Jungkook doesn't bother with a glance. Just takes another sip of his shitty coffee. Tries to drown out the taste of chai from his tongue.

"The perfect soldier," V continues, pacing a few feet behind, voice louder now. "Marching in lockstep behind Commander like a good little ghost. You think if you bleed enough for RM, he'll forgive you for what you let slip through your fingers?"

Still no answer. Just another sip of that bitter, mass-produced garbage. Jungkook focuses on the taste—the chemical bitterness coating his tongue, sharp and synthetic. Easier to focus on that than the ache V's voice digs up.

"Nothing to say?" V's tone lifts, faux-curious. "Come on, where's that famous discipline now? Or did you leave it behind in your tent last night?"

The can pauses mid-sip. Barely a hitch. Just one second too long.

Jungkook lowers it slowly. "Your obsession with where I sleep is weird. Maybe try journaling."

V grins wide behind him, practically skipping to keep up now. "You're right. I should write this all down—'Jeon, once fierce and unfiltered, now drinks piss-coffee and pretends not to feel anything.' Bestseller."

"You done with the poetry?"

"Almost," V chirps. "Just wanted to make sure you knew everyone sees it. The way you're chasing scraps of forgiveness like a dog with its tail between its legs. You used to lead the escapades. Now you just brood and play pretend."

Jungkook stops walking.

V nearly collides with him, amused.

"Touch a nerve?" he murmurs.

Jungkook's head tilts slightly, eyes still forward. "You should work on new material. The old lines are starting to bore me."

V steps around him, circling like a vulture. "That's the thing about ghosts, Jeon. They're repetitive. They just haunt the same places. Same faces."

Jungkook's eyes shift. Cold. Level.

"You sound jealous."

V barks a laugh. It's short, sharp, too loud for the quiet trees.

"Of what? Your sad, monk-ass existence? Nah. I just miss the guy who could take a punch and throw three back."

"He grew up," Jungkook replies coolly. "Maybe you should try it."

"Nah," V says, too quickly. "That guy didn't grow up. He crawled into a cage and slammed the door shut."

Jungkook takes a step forward, chest brushing V's shoulder as he passes. "Or maybe he realized some things aren't worth fighting for anymore."

"Oh?" V pivots, stalking behind again. "Like loyalty? Brotherhood? Control?"

Jungkook doesn't turn. "Like noise."

V's smirk sharpens. "Funny you mention that. Because the silence after you let her die? That was deafening."

That stops him.

One step shy of the treeline.

Jungkook doesn't move, but something in the air shifts. Not loud. Not visible.

Just cold.

Real cold.

He sets the coffee can down on a mossy rock, slow and steady. Wipes his hand once on his thigh.

"You sure you want to go there?" he says, soft as snowfall.

V's smile flickers. Not with fear—he doesn't do fear—but with pleasure.

This is what he came for.

"I'm just saying," V hums, circling again, low and lazy. "You've been pretending for so long. Pretending she didn't matter. Pretending you're fine. Pretending you're not still clawing your way out of that night like it didn't gut you."

Jungkook says nothing.

But his silence means something now.

"I was there, Jeon," V says, inching closer. "You looked at me like I'd ripped out your heart and eaten it."

"You did," Jungkook murmurs. Still not looking at him.

"And yet," V's voice softens to a whisper, "you still didn't pull the trigger."

"Because you weren't worth it."

V snickers. "That's not what your eyes said."

Jungkook turns his head slowly. "No. That's what restraint looks like. Something you wouldn't recognize if it slit your throat."

V's lips curve, crooked and violent. "But you wanted to. You still want to."

Another long pause. Jungkook's jaw flexes once.

"Not as much as I want to forget you ever mattered."

And that—that hits.

V's grin falters. Just for a split second. The moment is small, but Jungkook catches it. He always catches everything.

Then, it changes again. V watches him like a cat watches a cornered bird. Head tilted. Smiling like he knows what's coming, and he's going to savor every second of it.

"You know what's funny," V says, voice maddeningly casual, "I always wondered if that was the problem."

Jungkook doesn't bite. Doesn't blink.

V goes on. "Not the rule-breaking. Not the secrecy. But who you broke the rule for."

Jungkook's gaze sharpens. Just a sliver. Just enough.

V catches it, of course. "Maybe if it had been someone else. Someone... less delicate. Maybe then, I'd have understood."

Jungkook's jaw shifts—tightens, releases.

"You picked soft," V continues. "You always hated soft. But that's what you chose. That's who you let in."

"Don't," Jungkook says quietly.

But V's already grinning, teeth and cruelty.

"God, what was her name again? It's been so long." He taps his chin mockingly. "Right there. Tip of my tongue."

Jungkook turns away. Starts walking.

He needs to get away from that sicko before he does something stupid.

"Don't go yet," V calls behind him, voice lilting like this is a game. "Help me out, will you? Dark hair? Big eyes? Always looked like she was about to break?"

Each step Jungkook takes feels heavier now. Like the gravity around him's been recalibrated.

"Jeon," V sings. "C'mon. Starts with an 'S,' right? S... Ssssss—shit, it's gonna bug me all day if you don't help."

Jungkook stops walking. Doesn't turn.

"V."

One word. Dead calm. A warning that sounds like the moment before a trigger snaps.

But V doesn't stop. He never does.

"Wait—don't tell me—Sarah? No. Sophie?" He's grinning now, wide and unhinged. "No no no, it was something sweeter than that, wasn't it? Something fragile."

Jungkook's whole body goes still. His shoulders square. Not aggressive. Not defensive.

Bracing.

"I won't tell you again."

"Oh, don't be like that." V's voice drops to a near-whisper. "We're just reminiscing."

"You say it," Jungkook murmurs, quiet enough that the wind almost eats it. "And this conversation takes a very different turn."

"Isn't that the fun part?" He replies.

Jungkook turns back to walk away. But before he can do just that, V opens his mouth again.

"No, wait, wait, wait! I remember it now."

V tilts his head, feigning thought, acting like he just got enlightened by the powers above.

Then—

"Sylvia."

The name detonates behind Jungkook's eyes.

He moves before he even registers it—before thought can catch up to instinct. One hand fisting V's collar, the other slamming him into the nearest tree with bone-rattling force.

His voice is low. Controlled. Deadly.

"I told you," he breathes, "to shut the fuck up."

V chokes out a laugh, even as Jeon's forearm presses against his throat. His smile is bloody, triumphant.

This is exactly what he wanted.

"There he is," V wheezes. "Knew you still remembered."

Jungkook tightens his grip.

"You don't get to tarnish her name with your mouth."

"Oh come on," V gasps, grin never faltering. "You're the one who made her matter."

Another inch and V's feet almost leave the ground. Jungkook's pulse is thunder in his ears. Vision tunneled, voice low.

"You don't touch her memory."

V's eyes shine with something unholy. "Why not? You left it out in the open."

Jungkook doesn't say anything. He just breathes—through his nose, slow, controlled—because if he doesn't, he'll crush the bastard's windpipe right here and now.

"You never even cried for her," V says, voice straining now. "Not once. I watched you. All that grief, and nothing came out but silence."

"Shut up."

"She begged for you, Jeon." V's voice slips into a mocking lilt. "Right before I pulled the trigger."

His hands go up, mimicking the movement of guns. Two fingers, cocked and pointed.

"Bang. Bang." V grins. "Guess some lessons need to be learned twice."

Jungkook's fist curls tight, shakes from the effort of not slamming it into V's face.

"She looked at you," V whispers, "and said thank you."

That's it.

Jungkook lets go of his throat—and punches him hard enough to split skin across V's jaw.

Bone cracks under knuckles. Blood spatters across bark. V staggers, but he's laughing—fucking laughing—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fucking finally" he slurs through red teeth. "Welcome back, Kooks."

Jungkook doesn't hesitate.

The second punch lands even harder than the first—knuckles slamming into cheekbone with enough force to whip V's head sideways.

Blood sprays from his mouth this time, a thick crimson arc that spatters across tree bark, across Jeon's hand, across the ground between them.

Still, V laughs.

It's breathless, giddy, delighted.

"Fuck, I missed this," he rasps, tongue darting out to taste the blood slicking his bottom lip. "So you're still human, huh?"

He licks it slow, like he's savoring it.

Like it's dessert.

Jungkook steps back just enough not to kill him.

"You don't get to call me that," he says, voice low and splintered. "Not anymore."

V blinks once, mock-innocent. Then that crooked smile curls back up, jagged and satisfied.

"Oh, right." He taps two fingers against his temple. "Because I'm not Taehyung to you anymore, huh? I'm V." His voice twists around the name like it's something sacred. "Your words, not mine. Or was it mine first? I forget."

Jungkook doesn't answer.

He can't.

Not when his pulse is pounding in his ears, his vision swimming at the edges with a red haze he hasn't let himself feel in months.

V steps closer, shoulders relaxed, body loose with that particular high only someone like him can ride. His lip's still bleeding, and he doesn't wipe it off this time—just lets it drip, red on his teeth, staining the corner of his mouth.

"God, you hit harder than I remember," he says, eyes gleaming. "Must be all that repressed emotion. You're like a soda can in the sun—shaking, sealed tight. One little crack and boom."

Jungkook doesn't say anything back. He's not looking at him anymore. He's looking through him. Past the trees. Somewhere far and unreachable.

But V keeps talking. Of course he does. Because once he has momentum, he's unstoppable.

"I always knew it was still in there," V's finger digs in his chest. "That spark. That fire. You've been playing dead so long I almost believed you were gone. Almost."

Jungkook's hands are fists again.

"You've been sleepwalking, Jeon," V continues, grinning like he's high on the taste of violence. "Dead-eyed. Robotic. Miserable. Just waiting for someone to fucking jolt you back awake."

He leans in close again. Too close.

"I'm just giving you a favor."

"You don't do favors."

V cackles, loud and wild. "Sure I do. You just don't like the way they taste."

Another pause. Jungkook's breathing is steady now, but it's forced. Every inhale pulled through clenched teeth.

"You think this brings me peace?"

"No," V says, licking blood off his thumb now. "I think it brings you clarity."

There's something predatory in the way he steps back, finally, giving Jungkook space—but not out of mercy, no.

It's rather just to admire the way he's held together by muscle memory and sheer willpower.

"You pretend you buried it," V says softly, quirking an eyebrow. "But it's still there. Under the skin. Under the guilt. Under all that self-hatred."

"You're wasting your breath," Jungkook replies.

But V just keeps smiling, lips slick, eyes blown wide with delight.

"You can't kill the part of you that liked it. The rage. The power. The need. You just locked it away in a box and lost the key."

V's voice drops now, low and rich and terrifyingly gentle.

"And I'm the only one who still knows where it's buried."

That's when Takama steps in.

No warning. No sound. Just a hand locking around Jeon's bicep before the next blow can fly.

"Enough," Takama says, firm and calm.

Not a command.

A lifeline.

Jungkook doesn't resist. Not yet. But his chest heaves, and the knuckles on his right hand are starting to swell. V leans lazily against the tree now, licking the blood of his lower lip that won't stop gushing out.

"Aw, don't stop now," he drawls, voice hoarse from the chokehold and the punches. "We were finally getting somewhere."

Takama doesn't even look at him.

His grip stays tight. Not painful. Just steady. Anchoring.

"Let it go," his second in command says under his breath.

Jungkook's eyes stay locked on V's face. Not with hatred. With control.

The kind that takes every ounce of strength to maintain.

"You should've stayed buried," he murmurs.

But V just laughs. Loud, unhinged, manic.

"And miss this reunion?" He wipes blood from his jaw with the back of his hand. "Never."

He steps back, licking the burgundy remnants from his fingers as he turns to walk away.

His voice floats over his shoulder like a final cut.

"Same time tomorrow?"

Jungkook doesn't answer.

He just watches him disappear into the trees, that thorned scent of roses lingering behind like a stain you can't scrub off.

Some poisons don't kill you right away.

They stay in your blood.

Rot you from the inside out.

Blood tastes like copper and victory.

It slicks across his tongue, drips warm from the split in his lip. He doesn't wipe it off. Why would he? It's a mark of success—Jeon's control fractured, broken open just enough for the truth to spill out.

The scream he didn't let out. The grief he still pretends doesn't exist.

Taehyung practically skips through the camp, boots crunching over frost-stiff grass. His knuckles sting from where Jeon deflected that second hit, but the ache feels earned. Like something sacred.

He exhales, slow and sweet, watching the vapor curl into the cold morning air.

That was better than sex.

No, scratch that.

That was sex.

Pushing Jeon to that edge—watching the cold, calculated sniper fucking explode in real time? That's the closest Taehyung ever gets to euphoria.

The high is still rushing through him as his tent comes into view. The buzz behind his teeth. The heat in his skull. He's not even pretending to slow down.

He lifts the flap with a flourish, practically singing, "Honey, I'm home," as he sweeps inside.

Jimin's already there. Cross-legged on the floor like some kind of aesthetic devotional painting. His salmon hair falls messily across his forehead, catching light like spun sugar. He doesn't startle—he never does—but his head tilts just slightly in that way Taehyung always notices.

"You're late," Jimin says, not looking up from whatever he's scribbling into that little black journal. "Let me guess. You pissed off Jeon again."

"Mmhmm," Taehyung hums, swaying into the room. "It was glorious."

He doesn't wait for an invitation. He never does. Two steps and he's folding himself into Jimin's lap like a lithe, bloody jungle cat.

Jimin grunts at the impact, but he doesn't move. Doesn't push him off.

He never does that either.

"You're bleeding," Jimin says quietly, brushing hair back from Taehyung's temple before his eyes drift down. "Lip's split."

"Little love tap," Taehyung breathes against the curve of Jimin's neck.

He nuzzles there a moment, deep inhale. Jimin smells like warmth. Like brown sugar and caramel and fabric softener.

Soft things. Domestic things.

He doesn't know why it makes his teeth itch, want to take a bite.

Jimin finally meets his gaze—and there it is.

That flash of worry in his eyes. That's the part Taehyung likes. Not the sympathy. The fact that it costs Jimin something every time he pretends this isn't poison.

"What did you say to him this time?"

Taehyung grins slow, letting his tongue drag over the blood at the corner of his mouth. "Just reminded him of something he didn't want to remember."

"Don't play stupid. This is getting out of hand." Jimin's hand brushes lightly against his jaw, tilting his face to examine the cut.

The pads of his fingers are warm. Careful. It makes something behind Taehyung's ribs twitch.

"Jeon's going to snap one of these days," Jimin adds, voice low.

"He already did," Taehyung whispers.

And he can't help it—he giggles. It bubbles out of him like champagne and gunfire, bright and wrong. He presses closer to Jimin, legs tangling, arms looping around his waist. The tension bleeds out of him slowly, replaced by that delicious hum of control reclaimed. He can still feel Jeon's rage in the fibers of his hoodie. It clings like perfume.

Jimin doesn't move. But his breathing changes. Shallow now.

"You're high on it again," Jimin murmurs.

Taehyung pretends to consider it. "Maybe."

"It's not healthy."

He shrugs, lashes fluttering as he leans in. "Neither are we."

Jimin sighs through his nose. Doesn't argue.

For a moment, they sit like that. Quiet.

Taehyung lets himself rest his head on Jimin's shoulder, lets the silence expand between them. This kind of stillness is rare. He doesn't know how to hold it without squeezing too tight.

Jimin's voice finally cuts through. "Let J-Hope look at it. That lip's going to get infected."

"For you?" Taehyung draws his thumb along the line of Jimin's jaw, soft and mocking. "Anything, love."

The way Jimin flinches is small. Almost imperceptible. But Taehyung feels it.

That's the thing about Jimin. He's not like the others. He doesn't play back. Doesn't bite or snarl or shoot. He just absorbs it all, like a sponge in a slow leak.

And Taehyung knows it's cruel—knows he's twisting something tender into something sharp—but he does it anyway.

Because this is what's left. This is what he has.

"You don't have to keep doing this," Jimin says, eyes on the floor now. "With him."

"Sure I do," Taehyung murmurs, already curling into his lap again, like a cat that doesn't want to answer. "The show must go on."

Jimin shakes his head once, slow. "You're always like this."

"Good things don't change."

There's no bite in it. No anger.

Just truth.

And then, before Jimin can speak again, Taehyung presses a finger to his lips. It's light. Thoughtless. Charged.

"No more lectures," he says. "Tell me something sweeter."

"Like what?"

Taehyung smiles, eyes gleaming. He leans in, close enough for Jimin to taste the blood on his breath.

"Tell me a secret."

Jimin's lips are warm beneath his finger. Too warm.

Taehyung holds it there a beat longer than necessary, just to feel the resistance—such a pretty little line of defiance, always broken down the same way.

Gently.

Repeatedly.

"Tell me a secret," he whispers again.

Jimin doesn't answer.

He doesn't have to.

Because his eyes do. The way they drop. The way his breath skips. The way his hands twitch against the floor like they're unsure whether to push away or pull Taehyung closer.

It's always like this. Hesitation that tastes like anticipation.

Taehyung leans in. Presses his mouth to Jimin's cheek, just shy of his lips, and breathes him in—caramel warmth, a little bit of sweat, and something almost shy beneath it.

He imagines for a second biting down. Hard. Leaving a mark. Branding softness with something it doesn't deserve.

Instead, he draws back and tugs Jimin forward.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Right into his lap.

Jimin doesn't resist. He never does. Just settles into the space Taehyung makes for him like he's made of silk and apology.

God, it's addicting.

"So obedient," Taehyung murmurs, mouth ghosting along the curve of Jimin's jaw. "You always melt so easily, Jiminie."

He feels Jimin's pulse jump under his hands.

Feels it in the way his thighs tighten just slightly, in the way his spine curves—not in retreat, no.

In submission.

Taehyung smiles. The kind that never touches his eyes.

This is the part that matters.

Not the tenderness. Not the connection. This.

The aftershock. The reward.

The thing that lets him bleed out the rest of Jeon's name from his teeth.

His hands roam lazily—up the curve of Jimin's back, slipping under the hem of his shirt just to feel the skin heat beneath his palms. He doesn't rush. He doesn't need to.

Jimin's already folding.

Taehyung tilts his head and brushes their lips together—barely. Just enough to taste breath.

Then he whispers, soft and cruel against Jimin's mouth, "Let me ruin you for a bit."

Jimin exhales shakily. Doesn't nod. Doesn't speak. Just presses closer.

Perfect.

And Taehyung?

Taehyung finally feels calm.

Not better.

But calm.

The high burns slower this way.

Controlled.

Directed.

And by the time Jimin's head tips back and Taehyung's fingers slide lower, he's already thinking of the next morning—when he'll do it all over again.

Because Jeon's fists can bruise skin.

But Jimin's silence?

It lets him feel powerful.

goal: 400 notes lmao I'm not doing this shit again in 24 HOURS.

next | index

🔪 taglist 🔪

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[cybrasigilism]

hey pookie (≧∀≦) can i request something for a threesome between kang dae-ho x reader x namgyu? they’ve been my current 18+ brainrot for days now omg i need them both (at the same time)

HEY DIVA OMG, of course i will write this bc you asked so nicely

Hard & Soft (Kang Dae-ho/Player 388 + Nam-gyu/Player 124 X Reader Threesome Headcanons)

warnings: smut | not proofread | lowercase intended | threesome | soft! dom dae-ho | rough! dom nam-gyu | praise | degradation | lowkey competitive | oral | marking kink | overstimulation | this is my interpretation of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinion on these characters differs from your own

characters: kang dae-ho (player 388), nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: cheered when i saw you in my inbox, i love, and i mean absolutely LOVE, the way you portray nam-gyu in your writings :) enjoy! i fear i wrote nam-gyu to be kind of an ass but his ego’s at risk half the time here, so i thought it would make sense 😖🙏

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised 

➢ a threesome with dae-ho and nam-gyu isn’t just a threesome. it’s a goddamn contest. both are convinced that the other isn’t loving you right, and they definitely make a point of it

➢ nam-gyu is the more openly competitive one of the two. usually he’ll sneakily make eye contact with dae-ho as he fucks you, all while making snide little remarks. dae-ho’s always got a clap back saved for nam-gyu when he does this though— however jealous seeing you get fucked so raunchily by someone else may make him

“would you listen to that? funny, she didn’t sound like this when you were fucking her”

“yeah, i’m not nearly as rough with her as you are though..”

➢ during foreplay, they’re both trying to make you feel good in different ways. you can tell that dae-ho’s doing it to please you and you only, the way he handles you so tenderly, gently running his hands over your body while your lips collide with delicate grace, being dead giveaways to his motivations. nam-gyu, on the other hand, takes a more possessive approach. his ego is fragile, so it’s almost as though he’s claiming you through dark hickeys and light scratch marks to reaffirm that you’re his.

➢ when you’re fucking them, it’s typically you giving nam-gyu head while dae-ho takes care of you from behind. their banter is almost distracting, but with the little praises from dae-ho woven in you really don’t mind.

“shit man, you need to go easier on her— she’s doing too much of a good job for you to treat her so roughly”

“fuck that, she wants to act like a dirty little whore, that’s exactly how i’m gonna treat her”

➢ if dae-ho’s the one fucking you while nam-gyu watches, nam-gyu will do everything in his power to distract you from dae-ho. this will usually be in the form of him taunting you guys from afar, talking down on dae-ho’s performance.

“c’mon man, you know she likes it rougher, don’t be shy!”

“fuck, this is pathetic. you’d think this was her first time, you don’t have to go so slow”

“don’t tell me you’re actually getting off on this, you’ve had better..”

➢ sometimes, if nam-gyu’s hitting you from the back, dae-ho will be right there to comfort you and tell you how good you’re being. if you’re really acting desperate, he’ll indulge you with a couple kisses

“you’re doing so good, sweetheart. you’re almost there, huh”

“just keep going a little while longer, i can make it worth your while after”

“i know it’s a lot, but you’re being such a good girl— i’m sure he’s very grateful”

➢ you guys go round after round, these two just need to see who can outlast the other— you might get overstimulated in the process

➢ to follow up on that last bit, they take aftercare pretty serious. fighting over who gets to take care of you after all that you just did, spoiler alert: dae-ho usually wins. but regardless, they both have their fair share in praising you on your resilience.

─────────────

thank you for reading! sorry if it’s lacklustre, this isnt a pairing i would have written for before this request, but i aim to please! hopefully this is somewhat satisfactory to what you had in mind, however OOC it may be

as always, any constructive criticism/advice for improving my writing would be greatly appreciated and is requested! have a good night/day lovelies 💋

🏷️ : @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @kouzih @gabbystinks @pink-apples001 @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[winstonsns]

the gang with a soc!reader

authors note: sorry the last one was kind of all over the place. i tend to ramble when i write so ill try to stay more on topic this time. in this preference, you and the characters will already be a couple :3 im also wondering if people are clicking the hashtags then they see my posts?? so if that’s what’s happening and you can see my posts when you click the hashtags please tell me because i have no idea if it’s working LMAO

includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.0k

warnings: mild cussing, mentions of fighting/getting jumped

PONYBOY CURTIS

you both are academic BEASTS so you’re somewhat rivals and trying to get to the top of the class

but you’re still together, it’s a healthy relationship

most of the time, you’ll actually walk him home from wherever you are since it’s safe for you to walk home on your own, but since he’s a greaser it’s not safe for him

when you met the gang they taught you how to fight in case some greasers or even some socs tried to fight you

by walking him home, you’ve actually prevented him from getting beat up

you like to take him out to get food or something he wants when he gets a good grade since he gets happy when they’re high

sometimes you’ll get lower grades than him and you two will study together, or reversed

you’ll get him a new book every time he finishes another one, by the end of the year he has a new shelf just filled with books you’ve given him

you occasionally read him to sleep when he’s having a hard time, or again reversed

he falls asleep pretty quickly when you do this and he really appreciates it

you always sit together during assemblies and choose to be each others partner in the classes you have together

if you don’t decide to do track one year you’ll go to his meets, and after you always take him out to eat since you’re proud

if he’s extra tired then he’ll ask to go home so you will

you learned how to cook so he can have big nice meals, along with baking chocolate cake when soda and darry aren’t there to make it

pony thinks you make it better than darry but will never tell him that

he really loves spending time with you and feels like you’re the first person besides johnny to really understand him

you made him think about socs in a different way too, in a good way

yall are just humans doing what you know best, some in different environments and had different parents with different parenting styles

you like to bring him to the best places in tulsa to watch the sunsets

you also get the best polaroids of the sunsets and the colors are so beautiful

JOHNNY CADE

as soon as he told the gang that he was dating someone they were excited for him, then they found out you were a soc

dally told him to break up with you without even knowing you, johnny told him to give you a chance

when johnny invited you to the curtis house to meet his friends, you brought presents for all of them since you wanted to make a good impression

you had your ways about finding what they like and don’t like

they immediately took a liking to you when you gave them presents and a kiss on johnnys cheek

you’d patch him up and give him bandaids to take home after getting beat up by socs or his parents

sometimes you’d give him money and he would use that money to get you something you’ve been wanting for a while

he’s always so thankful for everything you do for him and everything you give him

since your parents don’t really care about the differences between greasers and socs, they let johnny stay over since they know things are rough at home

sometimes they’ll take you and him out for dinner with them and you think it’s so cute

he was nervous your parents wouldn’t like him since most of the socs parents would think he’s gross

he’s always proud of you for naturally getting good grades and seeing the smile on your face when you get your report card

sometimes when he’s upset you two will cuddle in your bed or you’ll drive him to a restaurant or fast food place

he always feels bad about spending your money but you tell him not to feel bad about it since you have more

DARRY CURTIS

things got more financially stable when you came into his life

you’d help him pay groceries and the bills if he was struggling, you also helped around the house

sometimes he’ll wake up to the smell of bacon, waffles, eggs, etc and suddenly its like he doesn’t have to be the responsible one 24/7

having you in his life has improved everything, and his brothers are so thankful to have you there too

you’re like a mother to them and they’re comfortable enough to open up to you

sometimes you’ll ask him out on cute little dates randomly just so he can get a break of hard work

he’ll take the day off and get all dressed up since you told him you were taking him to a really fancy restaurant

occasionally you’ll get your nails done just for your dates and he always notices

you’ll ask him “which color is better” and he’ll say “aren’t they the same?” then you have to explain to him that one is darker than the other

he still doesn’t see the difference but chooses one anyway since he likes to see you happy

he’s literally so in love with you and how you’ll do romantic and domestic things for him

you’re so beautiful and perfect in his eyes, and sometimes he’ll stare at you and his brothers will tease him

he really loves being around you and having you by his side

you also helped him become calmer, that pony and soda have their own problems and darry yelling at them probably just makes them scared

he starts to actually communicate with them and you’ll give him gifts for completing or succeeding because why not

he’s always like “hon, you didn’t have to get me this…” but you can see he’s happy with whatever you give him

he just loves you so much and his brothers love you too but obviously not romantically

SODAPOP CURTIS

people actually think the both of you are socs, i mean they’re half right

they think soda is a soc since he’s so handsome and think you’re a soc because of your mannerisms and how you’re very beautiful

you’ll always visit him at the DX just to hang out with him

your parents love him and how he treats you so they also let him stay over at your house

sometimes when it’s sodas turn to get groceries from the store, you’ll go along with him

he just wants to be around you whenever he can

you’ll offer to pay for the groceries plus stuff he doesn’t need but instead wants

once he got a pimple and he freaked the fuck out

you bought him some cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen and pimple patches

you taught him how to use them and when, and in which order to use them in

his pimple went away in a few days

since you’re so smart and get good grades, you’ll help pony with his homework sometimes

soda will stare at you helping him from far away, he thinks it’s adorable that you two are bonding

when the two of you are in your room, you’ll play frank sinatra and the little dippers while having a home-date with sweets :3

you two have so much fun and he even opens up to you about his problems

you offer to get him a therapist but he says it’s that bad, you tell him to talk to you if he wants to talk about it again

he legit treats you like a princess and you love it

yall are the most attractive couple EVER no one can tell if they wanna be you or be with you

DALLAS WINSTON

when he realized he liked you he knew he had to protect you with his life

he needed a break from loud and annoying girls, then he found you

you could get quiet at times and you weren’t constantly screaming and acting like an annoying 12 year old boy

you got him to steal less since you could pay for things on your own

he didn’t really listen and still stole money from other people so he could get you things

whenever he got put in prison you could always bail him out due to the money you have

if he had to serve time then you’d give him money so he could spend it and get necessities

you’ll also make diy crafts for him on your guys anniversary and his birthday

he brings you to meetups with the gang, and they love you being there with him

you spoil him rotten and he loves it

makes him feel like a princess, weirdly enough

he’ll steal money to spoil you too, pays for your nails sometimes

you told him you wanted specific flowers once and he got you flowers sometime the next week, he acted nonchalant about it but he loved the happy look on your face

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

sometimes you’re quiet but he always finds a way to bring you to tears after laughing so hard

he’s literally the funniest person you’ve ever met

he never really expected a soc to get so loud since they were normally reserved and didn’t talk to many people

anyway you brought him to fucking disneyland once and he LOVED it

you booked a hotel and everything so yall saw mickey mouse

two-bit kinda laughed at him but he seemed happy so he didn’t care

he loves traveling with you and brags about it to the gang all the time

they say it’s cool then act like they don’t care but they’re kinda jealous he gets all that stuff

they’re happy for him though

sometimes you’ll get him little mickey figurines and he’ll put them on his nightstand, sometimes even carry it with him if it’s a keychain

he never would’ve expected a soc to be so nice to someone like him

he’s really glad that you love him and you show it

STEVE RANDLE

before you two started dating he tried to avoid you at all costs

he kinda thought you’d beat up him and his friends so he just stayed away from you

anyway when you guys started dating you’d drive him to the DX

you’d give him tips just for fun even if you didn’t buy anything from him

you’d buy him all sorts of little trinkets and such just so he’d have something to mess around with

i don’t have a lot of knowledge on him bro pls bear with me LMAO

he’s almost always with soda so you kind of became his best friend naturally

you’ll buy steve food on his breaks and drive him to restaurants or fast food places and you’ll eat on a bench or in a field together

you talk about some shit that happened at work while he listens

he’ll occasionally get you some food since he knows you like sweets

then you repay him with something he’s wanted for a while that he’s been asking for

whether it’s a book or food or a trinket idk

he loves you so much and is glad soda gets along with you so well

sorry this one’s shorter! i’ll try to make the preference longer next time. i’m gonna try to post at least twice per week but if im feeling good ill try to post more 💗 thank you for reading!

[angelltheninth]

Can I request headcanons about how Arcane Steb, Vander, Jayce, Viktor, Silco, and Ekko would react to his shy gn crush confessing to him in private please?

You can, and I will luckily write some fluff today.

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Steb x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, love confession, co-workers to lovers, teasing, being shy

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Hope reading this makes you all feel warm and fluffy.

Viktor was suspicious of you when you asked him to stay in the lab even longer. Usually you'd be the one telling him that he needs to end work early and then walk home with him.

When you began acting all bashful about it and looking through the papers you'd been working on the whole day he was even more suspicious. Although you wanted to confess to him, your words failed you, so you went to your next plan. Handing him your notes you left him bewildered as he didn't even get to read them before he could read it. On it was your confession, and asking him if he wanted to go on a date sometime.

The next morning you arrived early and found his notebook on your desk. In it was a note from him, accepting your confession, but wishing you had been a bit more direct with your feelings as he isn't good at guessing how people are feeling.

"Seems like you beat me to the lab this morning. And you've had a chance to read my note, yes? I thought so, the way you blush doesn't lie. Since that is the case I will take some time off this weekend, we can go on that date you mentioned. I look forward to it, darling, I hadn't been on many dates, this will be interesting."

Jayce is very casually touchy with people so he didn't notice how much it flustered you. He knew you were a shy person so he assumed it was due to that you blushed easily. But he had been wrong before.

He never took himself as overly flirty so he didn't think you saw him that way either. But to you his actions, his casual touches, his soft smiles, his praise that made your heart skip a beat, was almost too much to handle. When you confessed to him in the empty hallways of the Academy you expected him to brush it off, but he was left stunned. For the first time it clicked with him, all those longing and bashful glances of yours.

As smart as he is he can be foolish sometimes and it seems like this is one of those times. There's a part of him that wants to kick himself for not noticing your feelings. The other part of him urges him to kiss you and assure you that he feels the same, even if it took him a confession from you to realize it.

"Pretty dumb of me isn't it? Well I never said I was the smartest when romance was involved. You give me too much credit, babe. Oh, was that too soon to call you that? We haven't been on a date yet but I felt like I had to kiss you or else you'd get the wrong idea. I know how wound up you get over the smallest stuff."

Ekko had a bit of a hard time noticing your feelings. He wants to be mindful of everyone around him, Because of that certain things get tangled up together.

Not to say that he was fully oblivious to your growing feelings, which might be why he started acting more protective over you. When you went on missions together you always stuck close together, watching each other's back. He was very lucky to have a strong person like you fighting alongside him. Which is why it was also hard for him to believe that you'd had such a hard time telling you that you were in love with him. For someone as cool as you it should have been easy.

Then again he is a lot like you in that regard. He was scared of hearing your confession, so he tried to avoid it, almost making you not say it at all. One of the last things he wants to do is to lose someone else when he just started loving them.

"Know this is gonna sound real stupid, Firefly, but it ain't you, it's me. I wanna be with you, trust me I do, and you, taking me by surprise in the middle of a flight and telling me that almost made me lose my footing. You sure know how to take a man by surprise. But hey, it's just one of the many things I like about you."

Vander knew you liked him but also knew you were too shy to say it. He felt like he shouldn't put any more pressure on you to do so either. When you felt like he it, he believed you'd find the courage.

And who knew that all it took was a bit of liquid courage on a late night that you spent closing up the bar with him. It wasn't like he planned on it, but one drinks turned into two and you started talking to each other. Listening to him praise your work and telling you how the kids liked being around you, combined with the drinks, gave you enough courage you needed to confess your feelings to him. The last thing you suspected was to hear he already knew of your feelings.

That was the last thing you remember before you passed out. When you woke up you were in his bed, while he slept on the old couch. Memories from the night before came flooding back, your confession. You were so embarrassed you wanted to quit your job.

"Now why would I fire a perfectly fine worker? Way I see it you caught feelings for your boss, is that right, darlin'? Think you'd be the first one to do that? No way, but you are the first that caught my eye, it's been a long time since that's happened. Hopefully one day you'll be able to confess without any alcohol in your system. Looking forward to that day."

Silco always knew you had feelings for him, even before he became the feared crime lord that he is. That was one of the reasons he kept you close. Well, that and the fact that he liked you too.

Being aware that you had feelings for him meant that he went to great lengths to keep them a secret, and his own feelings too. He might be feared but he is also hated. For your sake it might be better if he sent you away but he knew you were too stubborn to leave him. When things started to get more and more complicated you thought you might never get a chance to tell him how you feel if you didn't do it now. It wasn't so much a confession as it was a quick kiss which you then urged him to forget all about before running off.

Of course he wouldn't forget. But he would still keep his own affections on the downlow. At least for the time being it was better to keep your relationship a secret.

"You know as well as I do how many people want me dead. I don't want to put that same target on your back, darling. The reason I would like to keep us a secret is just so I can get things under control better. Once that happens I assure you that I'll be kissing you every day, until you get sick of me. Which might be a long time, I know we're both stubborn people."

Steb has always been the most calm and collected member of his team and that doesn't change when he realizes you have feelings for him. If anything he wills himself to act even calmer.

But he also makes sure that he isn't cold to you, especially to you, when you're trying very hard to admit your feelings for him. He sees that effort and doesn't want to take away from your big moment, even though he wishes that he could just confess himself. It's been a while since he's been in a relationship, not a ton of time for those. Since he doesn't have that much experience either he would rather follow your lead, your pace and when you have him alone, when you walk out with him after training and ask him out, he will say yes.

Although he would rather not make too big of a deal of your confession to him, he just can't help the way his face heats up. It feels like this is something he's been waiting for and now it's here.

"So much to think about in regards to our future date, angelfish. Let's see, I do know of a good spot, but they close before our shift ends. Perhaps I can put a good word in for us, have our shift end a little early before the week ends. It took bravery to ask me out, let me repay it in the best way I can and give you a date to remember."

[shakethediseeas]

can you write Till and Luka (separately if you can't do both then only Till) with a reader whom is very touchy? you can keep it fluffy or a little suggestive, you can choose:3

ALIEN STAGE CHARACTERS (till and luka) WITH A TOUCHY S/O

2 far fgoone rn tehie. requests open! if you want part 2 ask.....

contect: You can't keep your hands to yourself; even before you dated, he was well aware of that. One appreciates it and the other one is secretly disgusted by it.

Warning: i cannot write Luka being a nice person, I tried really hard.... had to delete like 2k words of manipulation and neglect in his headcanon

another wanring: hopefully i got this right...........

LUKA

hes a bit smug about it.

Always holding hands. its a must!

He closes his eyes while you just continue swarming him with hugs, with jumps with anything to just be in physical contact with him.

He lets out an airy laugh at your antics before returning small actions in return, like kisses or a squeeze.

Sh dont tell a soul, well-- not even you know- but he loves when you play with his hair, closed eyes and is completely relaxed.

He lets a small smirk escape him when you slowly reach for his hand in the middle of a swarm of aliens and humans taking pictures of you guys. He looks at you before squinting in reassurance before returning his gaze back to the crowd.

If you knew each other when you were kids, then he'd know how touchy you are.

You used to jump onto him, never let go of his arm, never left his side.

When you would rest on the floor your legs would be on his lap as you hug him or at least try to because he would move his head further from you and scoff.

To this day, you still jump onto/tackle him

if you ever hugged him from behind,In response, he would move your chin so that he can kiss your forehead.

He's not embarrassed by your touches in public, knowing no one could touch him other than you.

TILL

He'd act shy about it.

Always having a red face when you hold his hand and hum happily, hed look down with a scowl to appear tough.

He'd let out yelps and flinch when you tackled him from behind before yelling at you to not do that and ruffling your hair violently.

He's a bit nervous about returning the affection; part of him says he doesn't care about what the world thinks, but he's worried for your safety, scared they would take you from him.

At the thought of that...he became a bit touchy too.

Behind closed doors, hes always happy to hug you tightly or cuddle, Hed ask first though.

Sometimes, when he's busy practicing his air guitar, you jump onto his lap or shake him violently, and he always lets out a yell in shock.

His tocuhes are very soft and delicate, you are a very delicate thing to him, he wants to protect you.

He has a big smile on his face when he holds your face against his palms and kisses your nose very softly.

If you ask to play with his hair he'd get a bit defensive but I mean anything for you!

[animelovelover123]

Ooooo I was thinking, what about a reader who gets jealous over the Dmc boys. Like they see someone flirting with him. 👀👀

I’ll be honest, this one was hard for me since I don’t like writing about what “you” do since that is one of the few things that take me out of a story. I’ll try, but if it sounds weird and isn’t what you were looking for, I am sorry, I hope you can enjoy it a bit anyway. ( ´-｀)

Disclaimer: Some of these guys enjoy/purposely let you get jealous because they like it. In real life, this is a manipulative action that can be a sign of a toxic relationship, romantic or otherwise. You can enjoy this fiction, but remember to be safe in reality.

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation

DMC Boys x Jealous Reader

Dante

It depends on the severity of the situation.

If it is some random woman gushing about him after he shows off his stylish skills, he will call you cute and tease you.

“Aww, baby, don’t get jealous now. You got to get used to it, you knew what you were getting into when you stole the heart of the demon hunter with smokin' sexy style.” He says before striking a pose to make you laugh and lighten your spirit.

If he is being propositioned for sex and you cut in before he can give his witty rejection, or he does get it out but you are still upset, he'll lean in a whisper to you the dirtiest of things that he has been thinking about you as a way to show that you’re the only one on his mind and that can get his blood pumping south.

If it is serious, though, with crying, pain, panic, true fear and anger, Dante will drop everything and get you out of there.

It doesn't matter if you just arrived or you wanted to give the person a piece of your mind, Dante picks you up and carries you home or at least to his car where you can have a moment to calm down, to let out your rage. He'll even let you let it all out on him. He won't argue with you, not yet, he knows you're not listening.

Once you have calmed down, or just become exhausted and placid, he'll get as close as you’ll let him and talk.

What happened? What got you so upset this time? Where do these feelings come from? What can he do to help?

Good boy Dante knows when to be playful and when to be serious.

Reboot Dante

This little shit loves it, finds it hot as hell when you get angry and more aggressive in your lovin’ to try to prove a point. And it happens often.

With how free-spirited he was before you, sleeping around with no interest in commitments, having random women and the occasional man coming up to reminisce about a past sexual encounter and wanting more or simply hearing of his prowess and wanting to try him on for size was common. Sometimes it felt like Dante had fucked every other woman in town, or perhaps it was just all the women that go to the clubs and parties you two attend.

Nevertheless, they always seem to find Dante and get right to flirting and grinding. And worst of all, because Dante likes seeing you mad, he will indulge them a bit. He won’t sleep with them, kiss them, or start touching them intimately, but he will let them flirt and touch him while returning some affection like cheek kisses and putting an arm around them, smiling all the while like he likes their attention.

In reality though he could not care less about them and if you weren’t there, he would tell them to fuck off. But seeing you get pissy and maybe even a little violent is hot as hell.

The fucking best though is when you assert superiority. Moments like when you saw a woman rub his chest so you walked right up and grabbed his crotch like it was your property that someone was trying to steal and when you saw him get a kiss on the neck so you grabbed him by the hair to pull him close and shove your tongue down his throat, that shit gets him rock hard.

Is it bad that the first idea I came up with was this little shit head purposely making you jealous and getting off on you dominating him? Even before I thought about how most characters would reassure you, I was thinking “Reboot Dante would pull this shit on purpose”.

Vergil

Vergil finds it infuriating.

Whether it is some random lady trying to flirt with him or he is having an actually intelligent conversation with someone, you getting jealous is an insult.

“Do you truly believe I am so weak a man as to fall for the tricks of painted whores or so fickle that I would run off with any person with a brain?”

He does not understand how you could not trust him and will confront you with this.

His tone, stance, and demeanor made it seem like he was just angry and annoyed. However, if you know him well enough, you can see glimpses of his hurt feelings in his eyes.

If you tell him blatantly that you don’t trust him, and worse so if you bring up his only past relationship resulting in a brief fling and the abandoning of a child, you will get the rare opportunity to see that hurt shown in his expression.

If you try to explain to him that it’s not because you don’t trust him, it's that you don’t trust others or it's instinct, he won't understand until he sees Dante playfully peck you on the cheek.

The phrase “painted whores” is a reference to the DMC3 manga where Vergil says this. (Hopefully I remember to put the pic in and it still works)

This is the official Tokyopop translation and is apparently not accurate at all, but this manga has some crazy lines, and this phrase fits IMO.

Reboot Vergil

Vergil is a charmer; it is a necessary skill in the high society circles he is trying to take down. To gather information and get close to targets, sometimes he has to show interest in people and topics he could not care less about. Sometimes this includes flattering someone and making them think they have a chance with him.

He knows you don’t like this, and he doesn't like it either, but he is firm on his stance that this is a necessary part of his overall plan.

You two have gotten into arguments about this, especially if you threaten to, or successfully do, ruin a plan because of your jealousy. Shouting, screaming, him fighting on the side of logic and you, the heart.

In the end though, it always seems to work out, often with him coming to find you after some time apart to calm down and taking the time to reassure you of his love and loyalty to you.

There is one circumstance in which he should admonish your actions… but when you two are at some snooty party and some woman tries to flaunt her social power, wealth, beauty, and other such attributes to get his attention, he has to use all his socialite training to not laugh as you verbally beat the woman back into her place.

You'll catch him snickering to himself every so often as he remembers a particularly cruel jab you made.

This boy did not get raised in a rich family and become a millionaire without learning how to charm people out of information, which does not bode well for any monogamous relationship he has unless they also know the seedy tricks of the trade.

Nero

Nero, despite trying to act cool and mature, is naïve and bashful. Unless the woman is so blatantly aggressive as to try to grab his private areas or start saying he should ditch you for her, to which he will aggressively reject, he doesn't know how to react to flirtation, so you have to watch over him.

When in Fortuna, he was an outcast; no girl or woman had interest in him. And when he started traveling when he created the mobile unit for Devil May Cry, women looked down on him for being childish or still just avoided him. “So don’t worry, there is no reason for you to stress out, babe.”

In reality, he had many admirers that were too nervous to approach him or did shoot their shot and it went over Nero’s head, who assumed that that’s just how many women are. (blame Trish/Gloria for that)

Like trying to guide a mouse through a maze of traps, you have to watch over Nero and shoo away the women making him uncomfortable.

“Well you're being overly clingy, what’s up? Flirting with me? She just dropped something. Bend and snap? I don’t know what that is. You wanna go home? Sure, I don’t even like parties like this. But, um, could you keep your arm around me like that? Feels… nice.”

I did not start off with the intent to make Nero babygirl coded, but here we are and I like it. I love Nero being horny and needy with you but the poor thing’s brain cannot compute when other people hit on him.

Also, though I purposely left it open for anyone to picture how they were holding Nero at the end, I like to imagine you have your arm around his waist or hips. Would be so cute!

V

V’s type of attractiveness, especially his physical traits, distinctive, so the rate in which you get challengers was dependent on the environment, because in some crowds he is VERY popular.

He is also a sensitive soul, able to articulate his emotions and understand others. So, the moment he notices even a hint of your jealousy, possession, or hurt feelings, he will pull you aside and reassure you of his devotion

“My dearest song bird, do not fret for my heart yearns only for your affection, my body craves only your touch, and no one makes sweet, passionate music like you and I together.”

He wishes for you to not have a single doubt in your mind about the strength of the bond you share, especially because he knew from the fragments of memories and feelings from Vergil how jealousy can destroy a person.

There was but one situation where V was thankful for your protectiveness that bordered on possessiveness.

V had very little demonic power and so struggled to protect himself without the aid of his familiars. At the same time, though, he was mostly human with some of Sparda’s blood, which made him a relatively easy target for blood/life force drainers like succubi, or so you might think.

That was until the tale of the devastating verbal and physical beat down you gave one of their strongest when you caught her trying to force herself on V spread to every succubus in the country and most of the demon world.

This one turned out weird and tone tones are all over the place. :p

[luviisabella]

Hey! I think your writing is super cool, I would DIE for some aged up NSFW Denki content if that's something you would be willing to do. Thank you, have a nice day! Thanks for reading my request!

Aww thank you ml that means sm to me 🥺!and yes I’d love to write for Denki, I actually love when my readers request different characters !! So I’m very happy to write for him, I hope you enjoy <3🧡

University AU (18+)

Despite the amount of confidence Denki thinks he has, he’s actually a bit submissive.

It’s hot seeing him take control, like when he walks into your dorm and says nothing but you know exactly what he needs.

The way he’s fixated on your expression when he’s fingering you, taking in your moans and the way you hold onto him. You drive him insane.

Or when you’re sitting on his lap and he places his hands on your hips as you grind against him and he nearly loses it when you moan in his mouth while making out.

Denki knows what he’s doing, but.. sometimes you enjoy taking charge just for his reactions.

Whenever you ride him he swears he’s handling you well but internally he’s telling himself not to finish too fast. He can’t help it. Not when you’re riding him like this, he’s losing his mind. You can tell by the way his grip on your hips begin to tighten.

Your favorite thing tho.. is the way he whines. Oh God.

Whether it’s riding, head, or even when he’s pent up and it’s just a heavy make out session. In rare cases, he whimpers and it makes your stomach tie into a knot.

Giving him head and he’s begging you to slow down but the way he’s moaning makes it harder to hold back.

Or when you do ride him and all can mumble out is a soft “please baby..” or “mhm” biting his lip so hard it could bleed while his voice is all trembly.

So while Denki might have the confidence and know how to take control, you also know exactly how to spark a different side of him.

—

I hope this was okay ml, I definitely plan on writing for him more ! He’s such an underrated character 🤍