#like that’s so unfair that a human person doesn’t have that @

[spaceraes]

I’m so mad that i had to block this bot because this is an absolutely fantastic username

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

���He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

christ more dragon god sy yapping:

all those b-points he got from finishing that first quest? gone. my mans got like 100 every time he blessed a new generation of peak lords, plus the 500 he got from finishing that first main quest {From the Ground Up}, plus whatever he got from fighting off all those beasties who tried to kill his little cultivators way back when.

but when he unlocks his human form, he does not unlock clothes, and he has to buy them from the system store! truly unfair! he looks pretty similar to how he looked in his first life, just a little less sickly. he also has to buy a sword from the system, which is frankly bullshit. but lanrui is a lovely sword—an almost pearlescent sheen to the blade, with peach blossoms inlaid in the hilt and a dragon scale sheath that…it’s almost certainly made from his scales, actually. weird. after buying everything he needs from the bullshit system’s scam shop, he’s left with about 150 B-points.

after his magical girl transformation from gigantic dragon god to gangly human wrapped in way too many layers of sumptuous green and blue silks, shen yuan is sent off the mountain on a couple of missions from the system. pop into the demon realm to slay this evil, fend off these fierce corpses attacking this little town—tutorial shit. it’s weird having such a small body again after six (or seven hundred???? he’s not thinking about the enormity of time right now) years as a gigantic dragon. his steps feel a thousand times lighter, and the first time he tries to pick a fruit from a tree, he kind of explodes it with spiritual energy. the tutorial is, unfortunately, necessary.

the system is almost helpful when it shares his stats and all his cool dragon skills. his official name here is lord canglong, but honestly it would be so hard to explore this world if people were falling all over themselves when they heard his names. did dragon gods get personal names before courtesy too? fighting with the system gets him a corny, half-assed compromise.

he still gets to be shen yuan, but while his first life’s yuan was 垣 yuán (wall), in his second life it’s 愿 yuàn (desire, hope), and the shen he has is… very transparently 神, shén (god, deity). he’s got stupid amounts of spiritual energy, he doesn’t need to eat or drink, and sometimes plants bloom around him since he’s the also kind of the god of springtime?

right when he gets excited thinking about how he’s a god!! (the dragon god in PIDW!! that bastardization of qinglong that airplane wrote who never did shit to defend the realms until his mountain was being destroyed by binghe merging them!!) the system butts in to remind him that there are limitations. he can’t kill humans except in certain circumstances or else he’ll be punished, which—fine, he didn’t plan to go around murdering people anyway? his dragon form will be locked whenever he’s not on canglong peak (bullshit!! what kind of half assed nerfing—) and there’s a permanent penalty on his account, [Dragon Ex Machina], that threatens to penalize him if he uses his dragon god powers to bully the plot into going his way.

so what’s the point of being a dragon god, then!?!??!?!

he spends days bickering debating with the system while he learns to use his sword and qi without exploding whatever he touches, but the system refuses to budge. if he tries to bully the plot too much, he’ll be punished. it’s bullshit, but so is this whole novel he’s found himself in, so…

shen yuan is ready to spend a few more days acclimating before he gets a game plan together but that flies out the window when something starts burning at the back of his mind, screaming that something’s wrong, something is in danger, part of his territory is threatened. he hasn’t felt that since the last demon invasion, and before he can stop himself, he’s mounted lanrui and darted off toward that feeling that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

he ends up having blown in a wall of qing jing’s discipline hall, the tail of shen qingqiu’s whip caught in his fist (and fuck, that hurt to catch!!! his hand is definitely bleeding) as he stares down the man who was really just about to start whipping a child. a couple of disciples have gone white; a couple others have fallen over. the only ones in the room unaffected are shen yuan, luo binghe whose eyes are wide as he gazes up at him, and fucking scum villain extraordinaire, shen qingqiu. and the scum villain’s first words to him, lord canglong, dragon god of qing jing peak???

“move, or i’ll beat you too.”

[obliviouscxnt]

His Shadow Azriel x Reader

a/n: quick little idea/drabble i had (that could honestly get turned into another series) idk if this has been done before, if it has let me know please, I'll probably delete this. I hope you enjoy :)) <333

synopsis: azriel takes you for granted

Warnings: angst

pt.2

He thought it was poetic, the way the shadows disappeared around Mor. She brightened up his life, literally.  

Never did he think he’d find someone else capable of doing such a thing. Until he met Elaine. 

The change was gradual, so gradual he hadn’t even noticed. 

They stayed with him, at first, treating the once-human girl like any other person. But then she was turned fae, and Azriel’s visits with her began. With each visit, less, and less, shadows joined him. 

He was completely unaware, she stole his focus. 

He felt protective of her, like a precious flower he had to keep from wilting. That protectiveness slowly became something more, a yearning. Even more so when Cassian discovered he was mated to the eldest Acheron.

Though the night Elaine kissed him, everything changed.

They’d sat outside, in her garden, and even though the sky was already dark they’d stayed. Getting lost in conversation. She told him about things she cared about, and he listened. She asked him about himself, and he answered.

 At some point she ended up in front of him, gazing up at his lips. 

She looked so beautiful, illuminated by the stars, surrounded by her lovely garden. A sight he felt lucky to witness. 

When she leaned forward he couldn’t stop himself. He met her halfway, so softly, so gently. But as soon as his lips touched hers, all those feelings for her died. He felt nothing.

The switch in emotions almost gave him whiplash. It was dizzying. 

Underwhelming didn’t feel like the best word for it, but it was the only thing he could come up with. Nothing was exciting about the kiss, nothing revolutionary. It wasn’t like it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. 

Disappointment was what Azriel felt. A little part of him was hoping that maybe the Acheron sister would be his mate. 

It seemed fitting, right? Three brothers, three sisters. But now that her lips were against his, he knew it wasn’t right.  

The spymaster pulls back, taking a step away. Looking at the beautiful woman. Any feelings beyond protectiveness had vanished from his body. Not even a tickle of butterflies when she smiled at him, so obviously delighted with the kiss they shared.

It wasn’t her fault, any male would be lucky to have Elaine. But it was clear to him, that male couldn’t be him.

“It’s getting late, we should head in.” Her face drops at his words, he doesn’t even look at her as he begins leading her inside and back to her room.  

He should say more, apologize, and tell her how he feels so she at least has a reason. Not just silence. But his brain was still reeling from the drastic change in emotions—or lack thereof. No words leave his mouth.

He walks Elaine up to her room. Bidding her a short goodnight before leaving the frowning woman to her own devices.

He kicked himself for hurting her, for allowing it to get that far. Elaine was just so tempting, and he was so hopeful. He kicked himself for that too. 

Of course he wouldn’t have a mate. 

He couldn't even give the poor woman an apology.

It wasn’t until he made it to his room, all the way up in the House of Wind, that he realized no shadows were with him. Not even a whisper reached his ears.  

They’d been with him as long as he could remember, and now they were just gone. 

He couldn’t place the feeling they left in their absence. But he knew he didn’t like it. 

*****

You knew it was unfair of you to be jealous. He didn’t know how deep your devotion ran.  He didn’t see life the way you had, you didn’t even think he saw you as anything other than a servant. 

It wasn’t unfair of you to feel sad about that. 

You’re nothing but shadows to him. When he’s always been everything to you. From the moment he first called to you, when you were barely a flicker of darkness.

But he would never see that. 

Azriel is sound asleep when you slip through the cracks of his door and into his room. 

He hadn’t even called to you. Did he even care you were gone? 

You find yourself taking form, a form of something he could relate to. A beautiful woman, someone like Elaine, or Mor. But you knew you looked nothing like them. Your darkness couldn't captivate beauty like that. Bold and enchanting, like the Morrigan. Pure and innocent, like Miss Elaine.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you curl up in your designated corner, looking at the hands that felt alien to you. Even if you showed him this form, saw him face to face, would he see you any differently?

You doubt it. You’d always be shadows to him.

You were so busy wallowing to yourself in the corner you didn’t see the shadowsinger stir at your sigh. Didn’t see him blink awake, or sit up and look around. 

But you felt it when his eyes settled on you for what felt like the first time. Heard the gasp that left his mouth. 

Your heart stops, frozen in fear for half a second, before it starts again, and you collapse into clouds of darkness.

*****

It was the middle of the night when Azriel woke Rhys up, shouting at him from outside his mental barriers. The worry in his voice was what had the High Lord jumping out of his mate's arms, waking Cassian, and heading to the abode carved into the top of the mountain. 

Azriel paces around the office room, running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so stressed he would’ve noticed that his shadows don’t try to comfort him like usual.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asks as he and Cassian walk into the room. Both are in different states of undress with looks of concern on each of their faces.

Cassian immediately notes Azriel’s distressed state, a rare sight considering the spymaster had long ago mastered staying calm and stoic in the face of trouble.

Cassian almost doesn't want to know what has the male so bothered.

“There was something in my room.” 

“What?!” The reactions are simultaneous. Any sign of sleep was immediately gone from both of their faces.

“I think it was a woman… I don’t know I didn’t get a good enough look. It disappeared right after I woke up.”  His fingers grip his hair. Heart still beating fast from the interaction. No one has ever snuck up on him like that. 

He's usually the one doing the sneaking.

His shadows, which had returned sometime after he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t even noticed the stranger, if they had they certainly didn’t warn him. He tries not to feel the nerves that fact struck in him.

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Cassian asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like, Cass. One second it was sitting in the corner of my room, the next it was gone.” Which made absolutely no sense, the wards surrounding House of Wind forbid winnowing of any kind. 

This was obviously a serious issue, the wards could either be faulty or someone could have found a way around them. 

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a vivid dream?” Cassian asks, just trying to come with any better explanation.

“Was your encounter with Bryaxis just a vivid dream?” Azriel snaps. There was no way he imagined it. No way.

Rhys diffuses, stepping in with hands raised in surrender. Silently telling Azriel that they were on his side. “What did it look like when it disappeared? Did it look like it was winnowing?” 

The spymaster thinks about it. No. No, it didn’t. 

It was like its body blended with the darkness. Became the darkness. Almost like… Azriel’s eyes widen.

A shadow. 

“What? What is it, Az?” Rhys asks, probably noticing the revelation he was having from the look on his face. 

The shadowsinger's face becomes neutral, as calm as a person with his features was capable of looking. He shakes his head. “Maybe it was nothing. Sorry for waking you guys up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he left without another word.

Rhys and Cassian share a look. A mix of bewilderment, concern, and exhaustion filled their features.

Azriel waits till he reaches his room to say anything, making sure to close the door behind him before a single word can leave his mouth. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Is that why you always leave around Elaine and Mor? Why you thought it would be fun to scare me and my family? Because I don't give you enough attention?” 

His shadows scatter, detaching from his body, hiding under his bed and in the darker nooks of his room. 

“Don’t hide now. I know it was you, that’s why you didn’t warn me.” He gazes into the dark corners of his room, glaring. How could they keep something like this from him? Hide the fact that they could take form? “Show yourself.”

There was an eerie pause, Azriel’s heart began beating faster. Then the fae lights started to flicker.

With each flash more and more shadows gathered before him. Building on each other. The lights went out completely.

When he turned them back on you stood before him.

The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

Pure darkness rose from your body, looking like black smoke. It encapsulates you, different from the way it encapsulates him. The darkness wasn't an extension of your body, it was a part of you, was you, moved with you like it was just another limb.

“My intention was not to scare.” You spoke in a whisper he’d heard many times. A whisper that was most loyal to him. That fulfilled his every beck and call.

Azriel was at a loss for words. You were stunning, a word he'd not known the true meaning of until he laid eyes on you.

“For years, centuries, I’ve followed you. I chose you as my singer. I answered your call.” Tears fill your eyes, but when they fall they dissipate into smoke. Blowing away with a wave of your hand. “I have shown you nothing but loyalty, and care. I’ve sat back while watching you love others and I’ve made peace with it, I’ve accepted our differences.” You suck in a deep breath and steady yourself. “But when I leave, you don’t care, don't even notice.” Your lips tremble, voice breaking as you ask him a question he couldn’t even think to answer. “After everything I’ve done, how can I mean so little to you?” 

Azriel’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He has so much to say but his vocal cords are tied. He did care, though it was clear he hadn’t shown it enough. He found himself thinking about all the little times the shadows had been there for him, comforting him, caring for him. And now he could put a face to those moments, it wasn’t just shadows, it was you that’d been there for him over the years.  

“So yes, I was sad and mad, and maybe a little jealous... But I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just- I don’t know! Imagining? Yearning for a life I can’t have?” 

 The fae lights began blinking again making his heart jump with every flicker. He doesn't want you to disappear yet. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t want an apology.” You lift a shadowy hand, wiping your face and steeling yourself. “Don’t fret, shadowsinger, I’m still your faithful servant. I couldn’t refuse your calls even if I wanted to. And I’m okay with that, it’s what I chose. Just don’t expect me to be there for you in moments where you can't even acknowledge my existence.” 

The lights flicker again and you're gone. 

Leaving Azriel to wonder if he’s lost you. Although, he never really had you in the first place.

next->

[kissitbttr]

Miggy getting babied by his pregnant wife?

hiii! i hope you don’t mind, i changed it a bit because I don’t want it to look too much alike on the other one! this one’s short, enjoy! xx

-

being a mother to a 6 month old pregnancy bump isn’t easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and that’s what miguel had been learning through it all. seeing your mood swings shift in a span of thirty seconds, constant cravings for ice creams, kebabs etc, snapping (directly at him and mostly at him), frequent backaches and fatigue. he’s very much impressed how an existence of a human being living inside of you could actually change you as a person.

still, doesn’t mean he loves you less.

“ugh, i’d give my left tit for a big plate of mofongos and a fat ass joint right now”

the two of you are cuddled up in the couch, watching some lame old american tv show that miguel seems to find enjoyable. you’re dressed in one of his t-shirt and grey sweatpants. ones that you had claimed as yours despite miguel’s protest.

your husband chuckles, pulling you closer by the shoulder. “lucky you, mami. i bought an extra before i came home just for you. i could heat it up for you later if you want.”

a dreamy sigh escape your lips, reaching out to kiss his cheek. “thanks papi. you’re the best. what about the joint?”

he snorts, head shaking as his eyes cast down to yours. “i don’t think weed is good for the baby.”

“says who?” you fake a gasp, pulling back slightly. “it’s literally herbal! unless it’s contaminated with tobacco. don’t we have a stash up in the closet?”

“you finished them all, ma. basically rolling those joints with your pretty fingers before this happened” he points at the bump. “usted es avaro, mi corazon. barely left some for me”

a smile pulls up into your mouth, head resting against his bare chest. hand interlocking with his. “remember when we were celebrating our one year anniversary and got high?”

“ay dios mio” he groans playfully, rolling his head back. “don’t remind me, baby”

“it was so fun” you ignore the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, grinning even wider when he tries to hide it. “we went to taco bell after.”

“yeah and i threw it up because it tasted like shit”

you hum, nodding along. “and decided to get shawarmas and fries instead because we weren’t satisfied”

“one with the small food truck in 133th street” he confirms, his cheek against the crown of your hair. smiling at the memory. “i remember you told me not to get ones from across that italian place that you like because we need to support small business. had to stop you from crying too much because you kept saying how unfair it was for rich bastards to keep open up restaurants when they have shitty palate”

his comment makes you laugh hard. his grip around your hand tighten. some sort of pride blooms in his chest when he sees you laugh freely like that.

“oh god i remember!” as you slowly recover from the laugh. “we sat on the pavement after that right? you kept telling me how you want me to be the mother of your child.”

“damn, why do you keep recalling all the embarrassing things i did, huh?” he asks jokingly with a deep chuckle. now his attention isn’t even on the tv anymore.

“because it’s cute! you were so cute!” he shakes his head once more, biting down a shy smile as you shift your body weight to wrap your arms around his neck. “my miggy is so cute with the ‘i want you to be my wife, i want to get you pregnant, mi amor. say yes please, please, pleaseeeee’”

you continue to mock his actions back then, watching him cower down at the attempt of you trying to mimic his voice. strangely enough, you almost got it right.

he has his hands covered his face.“stop that, princesa! come onnnn”

you respond with a head shake as a ‘no’. “ay, papi don’t be shy” you giggle, trying to pry his hands off. “come on. let me see my hubby. let me see him”

miguel doesn’t budge for a while before peeking in-between his fingers like a little kid, then slowly peeling his hands away, jutting his lower lip forward.

you gasp, hand over your heart. “god damn! you can’t be walking around looking like that! can’t have all the girls falling for the sexiest man alive”

he rolls his eyes, smiling at your compliment. “stop being biased, baby!”

“i am not! how dare you calling the mother of your kid a liar, hm?” you tug him down, letting his head rest in between your neck and shoulder blade. “my baby daddy is sooo handsome. i won the fucking lottery.”

“definitely the other way around, love.” he disagrees, hand coming up to rest on your bump. “you stole my heart the moment you walked into my office that day. never thought in my life that a gorgeous architect made me get down on my knees and pray to the lord up there to let me have you.”

now that makes your heart skips a beat. how could you compete with that? he never fails to make you swoon even after years of being with him. it’s like the butterflies never stopped.

“hmm now you’re being biased, miggy”

“nope. i was so sure that i was in love with you.” he then turns to look up to you, tone becoming serious. “my god, you were the finest thing i have ever laid my eyes upon, mami. was literally bending over backwards to impress you. and now? seeing you swollen with my baby just made you ten times more gorgeous than before. you’re the love of my life, mi amor. and i will prove it to you for the rest of my life if i had to”

truly, you had never believe in luck or hope. it’s something that never sits well with you. odds never had been in your favor and you believed that for the longest time. you were fine being all alone. you have a job that pays you well, great condo, a body that you learned to adore, a loving mother. four things that you have always been so grateful for. you wouldn’t change a single thing.

but when miguel happened? everything in your life had changed for much better. from having to do everything on your own to ‘i got this one baby’. sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable with it at first, because you had never been the one who had asked for help.

yet you learned to love it all because of him,

with a grateful smile, you trace your fingertips across his soft lips. beautiful red eyes not leaving yours, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away for a second he would lose you completely,

“you’re the love of my life too, miguel”

-

don’t forget to reblog and comment babes!! xx

[temis-de-leon]

Demon Brothers realizing their feelings for reader

Characters: Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo and Beel (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 2 , Part 3 , Dateables version

Requested by Romance Anon

A/N: just like in the dateables version, this feels like an extra to the other parts, so definitely check them out. Hope you enjoy this! Even if they're a little ooc...

.

Mammon

Saying that Mammon gets no respect in his own house is a given. He’s a joke amongst his brothers, a fool who only seeks metallic sheen; guilty until proven innocent.

Bluffing and throwing empty threats around is his way of maintaining at least some of his remaining dignity, even if no one buys it.

So when you, a weak dumb human, are put under his responsibility, his priority is making clear who’s in charge.

He shows his fangs and talks harshly, wasting no time in letting you know how unimportant you are to him and how many things he could and will do to you if you disobey his orders or ignore his requests.

Of course he’ll rummage through your room and see if he can sell something of yours, but soon his visits become too frequent and soon he lacks his treasure-hunting mindset.

Mammon doesn’t know what to think about the disappointment he feels when he opens the door and you’re not there, when he hears your voice in the living room talking to someone else or when you’re partnered with some faceless demon in class projects.

He keeps the insults to try and compensate for the weakness that falling in love with you carries. You have to see it, how could you not? And even if you don’t, his brothers’ little jests would give you enough hints.

It’s maddening, having you so close and so out of reach at the same time; but maybe, surely, that is his fault.

.

Leviathan

It’s so unfair.

Why does he have to be the Avatar of Envy when he is clearly the least everything among his brothers?

Well, perhaps he’s better than Mammon at some things, but still.

He knows he isn’t as imposing as Lucifer or as pretty as Asmo and he doesn’t even want to compare himself to Beel; he still remembers them all criticizing his hermit habits and his consequential soft tummy.

Staying inside his room is, undeniably, the best way to protect himself from his sin. It’s a sanctuary made for him, Henry and all of his prized possessions; he doesn’t need anything else.

And then he meets you.

You don’t force him out of his room, which makes it easier for him to come out on his own, and you don’t mock his interests either. You are empathetic, eager to explore, fun to be around… All in all, being close to you makes him feel lighthearted.

Levi cherishes you so much it doesn’t take him too long to want you as close to him as possible.

Where are you? With who? Why? Were you having a good time? Better than the moments you’ve shared with him? Do you miss him? He has something to show you, so hurry up!

He notices the change in his heart the moment you make him blush for the first time, heartbeat so fast it makes his chest tremble.

It is somewhat hopeless; he knows you wouldn’t be interested in him in that way. Why would you?

No, he’d rather not go through that pain; he’s happy being just your friend.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

.

Satan

You fascinate him.

Not like a book or a painting would, much less a cat, but like a mystery. He doesn’t understand you and that angers and fascinates him in equal amounts; it makes him want to investigate you further than he would with any other person.

He observes, taking you in as neutrally as possible, and marvels at the way you prove wrong everything he thinks he knows about humans and what he assumes about you based on that knowledge.

When he lashed his tail and bared his teeth, back then, in the darkness of his room when he still thought so lowly of you, you stood up to him and didn’t move an inch. Clearly afraid, but not backing up, facing him with determination.

You’d later tell him it was adrenaline, which picks his interest further.

His privacy is his own and he still enjoys spending time alone in his room or out in the city doing his own thing, but the desire to keep your company for himself every hour of the day grows stronger by the second.

Smiling at the mere sight of you, hearing the pounding of his heart in his ears and impatiently waiting for his phone to light up and show your name on the screen are just some of the many new changes your presence in his life has brought.

The more he feels, the more he sees himself in his novels. Whether the narrative is in his favour or not, he doesn’t know, but he’s enjoying every bit of it.

.

Asmodeus

Being called beautiful is for him as usual and natural as breathing air and drinking water, but that doesn’t mean it goes under the radar. While he lives in abundant loving words and adoring phrases, there’s never enough to satisfy him and he works hard to keep the flattery coming his way.

His body is a temple he vows to maintain and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to carry that promise.

A sleep schedule that helps his hair grow, clears his skin and makes his mind feel lighter and happier; makeup and clothes carefully selected to enhance his attractiveness; and nails perfectly filed and painted multi-coloured to express his versatility. 

Of course, not all of him is based on looks. You can’t feed a fan club just solely on a picture!

He has a Deviltube channel where he engages with his beloved followers, parties to interact with them as well and other, more intimate, reunions that bring them all impossibly closer.

He thinks, rightfully so, that no one could ever come close to what he has achieved over time.

Then again, you always manage to surprise him.

While not as beautiful as him, there’s something about you that makes it impossible for him to stop admiring you and drinking in your entire presence.

It’s not just your face or your body, or the clothes you wear or how you do your makeup if you even decide to put it on. It’s your heart and your soul and the way you make him feel more loved than anyone could’ve ever done before.

There’s not a single ounce of jealousy in his eyes whenever he looks at you. You’re not competition, but part of him.

Finally, someone to share the spotlight with.

.

Beelzebub

A common misconception people tend to believe about him is his lack of emotional capacity, although he can understand his mostly speechless and stern demeanour and his food-driven actions don’t help at all.

His mind is usually focused on one thing and one thing only and that is filling his everlasting empty stomach. How can he concentrate on anything else when its growls are easily compared to Cerberus’s roars? When he salivates until he drools or when the aching need to consume something makes his vision turn red.

While it’s sometimes difficult for him to think straight or “read the room”, as Levi says, he’s well aware of what he feels at every moment of the day. Hunger is the usual answer, but there’s also love and protection for his family and, lately, for you as well.

It’s a different type of love, one he doesn’t feel often, but he recognizes it nonetheless and accepts it as quietly as he would with any other emotion, although his reddened cheeks and darkened glance speak volumes.

He loves you and wants you deeply, there’s no doubt about that, but he won’t act on it on impulse. As delicious as he thinks you’d be, you’re not some sort of candy ready to be chewed on in mere seconds.

Beel is impatient when it comes to his needs, yes, but he’s willing to wait for you.

Sometimes, the best meals are the ones being left to rest.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Calcharo, and Jiyan with shy gn s/o?

Jiyan

He doesn’t mind your shyness, not one bit.

He’s not exactly someone who can actively engage in socialising, especially not when most of his time was spent on the frontlines talking about strategies, supplies and coming up with ways in which they would avoid having mass casualties.

So if anything he’s the last person to judge you on your shyness. It would be unfair.

Jiyan is the person you go to for comfort, for advice because he brings you a lot of clarity and certainty unlike any other that you feel as though you could go to him for anything and he would try his best to help you, which is true.

He didn’t mind it when you practically tried to hide yourself behind him whenever there were people talking to him, he just reached a hand behind him in search of your own and holds it reassuringly until the group leaves, where he would then ask if you were okay.

Jiyan would much rather spend time with you in a secluded spot away from everyone, watching the Gulpuffs swim by as you both sat underneath the shade of a trees then be anywhere else if it made you happy.

He’s always preferred moments of peace and quiet after dealing with the chaotic and unpredictable situations he’s use to on the front lines, is sometimes he finds it hard to make his body relax and enjoy life when his eyes were always looking for the next big threat. So being in those moments of peace and quiet with you made jiyan relax easier as he had someone he deeply cared for to share this moment with.

He’d even find it even more peaceful if you were to fall asleep against his side, comfortable with him enough to allow yourself to be in a vulnerable position as he’s left to watch over you as you slept, always guarding you from everything and anything that would do you any harm.

Bonus if he falls asleep soon after, resting his head atop of yours and it acts as a cute moment to look back on with fondness and gratitude that you stayed by his side.

Jiyan worries that might not always be there for you due to his duty as General, he also worries that he might not make it back to you one day, that one day he’ll see you for the last time before going back to the frontlines to face the new threat.

So he makes you promise to plant a flower just for him if that were to ever be the case and you hugged him as tightly as possible in response, muttering that he wouldn’t die, jiyan wordlessly hugged you back equally as tightly, internally wishing that your words held truth to them for the future was always uncertain; now more then ever.

Calcharo (I love this Vergil/sepihroth looking beauty)

Another man who doesn’t care whether you were shy or not.

At first he might’ve intimidated you but after several instances where you were shown that he was far from the stories -or misconceptions as he’d call them- that you’ve heard about him and his group.

He’s a gentle and sweet man when you saw past the perpetually grumpy, brooding air about him.

He’s more or less protective over you and wants to keep you safe from anything and everything, human or not, no one was safe from his wrath if he were to be made aware of you being in any danger.

So Calcharo tries to stay close to you however he can so that he could keep an eye out for shifty characters with ill intentions, he does not tolerate it when people take advantage of people who couldn’t stand up for themself, it was pathetic and cowardly in his eyes and he want about to let you be their next target.

He’s a man of few words but that’s because he mainly lets his actions do most of the talking. So if he saw there was something you’d like but couldn’t find the voice to speak about it, he would silently stalk away and come back to present you with the thing you wanted in hand.

Calcharo could read you like a book and knew what you wanted and needed by a few simple bodily gestures. He wanted you to feel comfortable with him and he knew that takes time because he too took time to get accustomed to having someone in his life.

‘Do- do you ever get tired of me?’ You asked one day and Calcharo could tell it took all the willpower you had just to come up to him and say it.

‘What do you mean by that dearest?’ He said as he watched as you internally fight to get the words out and growing frustrated with yourself when you went to open your mouth, only for nothing but silence to come out.

‘Take your time.’ He calmly reminds you and you took a deep breath.

‘It’s just- I know I’m shy and struggle with doing things on my own such as order a meal or making doctors appointments, but I can’t help but think that maybe you’re getting tired of me for not doing things on my own.’ You admitted to him, finally getting the weight off of your chest as you stared at the brooding man in front of you, worried about what he might say.

‘I do not grow tired of you, I don’t think It’s right of me to grow tired of you when all you’ve ever been doing is trying your best.’ Calcharo replied as he stood in front of you and slowly reach for your hand and caresses the back of it with his thumb. ‘Your shyness is far from an issue for me and you shouldn’t have to be expected to be perfect at everything just to keep a partner or a friend.’ He squeezes your hand reassuringly. ‘So no, I do not grow tired of you.’

Calcharo couldn’t care less if you were shy or not, you were his partner and he cared for you immensely, which to him should be enough proof.

He may not be the best lover but for you, he tries.

[terrythemerry]

I just watched Wish (2023) and it made me realize something kind of sad about Disney’s treatment of villains.

So Disney has a long history of villainy from the OG Evil Queen who is willing to murder a girl just for being pretty to the misguided like Auto thinking he’s protecting humanity in Wall-E. They are mean, jealous, prideful, vain, and many relish in just being the worst of the worst. However every now and then we get a glimpse of more complexity. Zootopia’s Bellwether dealing with years of racism and mistreatment, Gantu trying to stop what he thinks is a monster in Lilo and Stitch, Up’s Muntz being a heroic explorer before paranoia consumed him, etc. The thing that makes me sad about these villains is that not one of them has ever had a chance at redemption or change in Disney’s eyes and nowhere is that sadder to me than their latest villain, King Magnifico.

(Spoilers below)

King Magnifico is the magical founder of a utopian society that accepts people of all races, religions, and backgrounds. Who created this wonderful place after what is heavily implied to be a violent invasion destroyed his homeland when he was but a child. This past trauma led him to study magic and become a powerful sorcerer so that nothing could hurt him or the people he cared about ever again. His magic is a protection that he extends to all who choose to live in the city. The city is vibrant with a colorful community full of artisans, musicians, and dancers. He takes no taxes from them, but does take their one true wish upon joining this society.

When given these wishes it is understood that he will ensure their safety and possibly grant them one day. Something important to note about the physical manifestations of the wishes is that they give off a warm and comforting aura as they represent some of the purest parts of a person’s soul. Magnifico has been surrounding himself with this magical comfort for a very very long time by himself and I don’t think it’s unfair to say he has become addicted to their presence. The wishes are giving him a magical comfort through the kind souls within them, a feeling he could’ve probably also gotten if he had spent more time with his people.

It doesn’t look like he ever really got the chance to commune with his people properly because somehow the society kicked off on his wish granting abilities. People had to give him their wishes if they wanted them granted and eventually the ones that he couldn’t grant in good conscience or out of fear started adding up so he began locking them away. Keeping them safe so no harm came to the people. The rare occasions that anyone else interacts with these wishes is during wish granting ceremonies that the people are borderline rabid for. With good reason, it is their souls they’re thirsting for after all even if they don’t really know it.

However, Magnifico clearly doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as he’s given these people a wonderful safe haven from the horrors of the outside world where they can be whoever they want to be, do what they want to do, make what they want to make, and still all they see in him is a tool to fastpass to something else they want even more than the peace he’s given them.

This is clearly shown early on, before any of his evil behavior starts to take root, in relation to his assistants. We get a expo dump after the first song telling us that Asha wants to become one of his assistant to increase the odds of her grandfather’s wish being granted as there is a correlation between past assistants and having wishes granted. Something important here is that there have clearly been many assistants, suggesting that it’s a revolving door position without really explaining why. Who would want to keep finding assistants over and over again, when really you should find someone who could do the job long term right? Well we get to find out the likely reason when Asha steps up for the role.

When Asha comes to interview for his assistant position he sees she is nervous, he tries to calm her down, and he even manages to relate to her through fond memories of her kindly father who he clearly knew. After seeing her true resolve to do good he decides to trust her with something few people in the entire kingdom get to see, the vault of wishes. To which Asha doesn’t even hesitate to ask, after politely being told not to prior, if he’ll grant her grandfather’s wish.

Magnifico is blatantly stricken by her request, sadly remarking that most people at least wait a few months before doing so a.k.a pretend to be interested in helping him rather than trying to use him to grant a wish. This is likely why the assistant job is a revolving door. Magnifico tries to find someone who he thinks will truly and selflessly fulfill the role only to discover time and again that people are just using it to get direct access to him to ask for a wish. Then he can’t trust their true intentions anymore and moves them along.

After Asha makes her request he does take the time to look at her grandfather’s wish but dismisses it as too dangerous because it is the vague desire to inspire the next generation. Clearly we as the audience know that her grandfather means to inspire them to do good, but we have to remember Magnifico has seen the worst of society. He has seen the darkest wishes and desires of mankind and survived them. He brushes Asha off telling her she’s too young to understand, which is honestly true. She’s lived her entire life cloistered in peace and comfort thanks to him and the rules he has made. She has never had to know war, strife, or hardship thanks to him, yet she doubts his decision without understanding the trauma that guides it. This is what I believe pushes Magnifico into his villain arc, something that I don’t think we’ve ever really witnessed in a Disney movie.

Usually a villain already is the villain by the time the film rolls around, even the twist villains. Lotso had already been deliberately sentencing other toys to torture. Prince Hans was already planning to murder his way to a throne. Evelyn was already plotting her revenge. Magnifico wasn’t though. He was the hero. He had saved his wife and a whole city’s worth of people from whatever drove them from the mainlands. He wasn’t physically abusing/mistreating people like Gaston even if he was vainly basking in their adoration.

When Asha pushes him on the wishes he pulls back from her, identifying her in his mind as a threat and treats her as one. He dismisses her and tells her that her family’s wishes will never be granted by him, but he will still keep them safe as he has been doing. Essentially meaning nothing will change for her from what it has been. You know a happy loving existence of complete acceptance and wholesome family life or as Asha interprets it, a fate worse than death.

His interaction with Asha triggers him, as she’s pushed at the flaws in his reasoning for holding onto the wishes. The flaws are true, but his mind is clouded by fear of a lack of control, likely stemming from the horrors he witnessed in his childhood when he had no control. He also likely has a bit of an addiction to the warm fuzzies that the wishes give on top of his fears. While he’s ruminating on that some massive wave of magic blows through the kingdom and messes with the thing he’s already stressed beyond reason about, the wishes.

Magnifico frantically searches for any answer, even considering a dangerous tome of forbidden magic that he knows is trouble before his wife manages to talk him down.

The fact that he could even be talked down rather than ignoring her outright shows that Magnifico does have good in him. He’s just reacting out of a genuine panic. His panic is only worsened by huge mob continuing to beg him for wishes in exchange for doing what should be the selfless act of defending their kingdom from what is essentially perceived as an attack. Not having any faith left in his people he turns back to the evil book to give him the key to stopping this perceived attack.

Just to be clear King Magnifico goes to the big bad evil book not to gain more power for funsies, but to try to find a way to stop a perceived threat. Everything he does from this point on, such as threatening his wife, can no longer be fairly tied to him, because as the movie repeatedly tells us he is under the EVIL book’s influence. His wife even looks through the same book to try and see if there is a way to break the sway she knows it has over him, but says she can’t because the EVIL book said no.

Yada yada yada and Magnifico is sealed inside a magic mirror and smugly told to rot in the dungeon by his previously loving wife.

Seriously?! What the heck?! This guy was the perfect candidate for rehabilitation. He wasn’t flawless, but he wasn’t a murderous psycho like most of the other Disney villains. Disney loves to preach kindness, acceptance, and good will with their heroes, but never does it allow the message of change.

I was shocked going back through the catalogue and slowly realizing none of their villains, regardless of how tragic their origins are, are ever truly allowed a second chance. The hero may offer it, but the baddy never is truly expected to change or reform. Which is honestly super messed up to me. People make mistakes. Some can be small/insignificant, but some are big and do hurt people sometimes. That doesn’t mean they can’t change for the better.

Now I’m not saying every villain is redeemable or good, it’s just a bit surprising that for all the messages of kindness and acceptance we haven’t really gotten forgiveness in 100 years. Seeing the “bad guy’s punishment” just deeply bothered me this time. Probably because so much of the bad that Magnifico does is clearly a trauma response and as a punishment for not acting appropriately to said response he gets sentenced to eternity is magical cell.

[retroaria]

₊˚⊹♡ …Love, Love, Love… ₊˚⊹♡

blue lock boys and how they’d describe their love for you!

cw: dramatic descriptions of affection, i think maybe there is a bit of implied personality for all of them, but honestly i’m sure you’re all lovely ppl and will still resonate with it!!

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🪽 -aria | isagi, bachira, kaiser

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚

𝜗𝜚 Isagi Yoichi

One day Isagi realized that if he could spend the rest of his life in the gentleness and warmth of your presence, he doesn’t think he could ever be truly unhappy. Then, as if his last thought had been the missing piece to why his heart burned so hard for you, he realized he was in love with you. Humans are human, he knows this. He knows that there’s no such thing as a perfect person, no one who could truly do no wrong, and he uses this to justify his boundless admiration of you.

He doesn’t care if it’s unfair to see you as the exception, the only person who genuinely is perfect. He knows he isn’t, but here you are, allowing him to bask in your grace. Every word you say and every action you take has a lighthearted nuance to it, an irrefutable sense of joy, it pulls him in until all he can see when he looks at you is a literal angel. When Isagi realized he was in love with you, he swore he would do everything in his power, for the rest of his life, to protect the ethereal light that showers over you, so long as he could bask in it alongside you. Your peace, your happiness, your sense of wonder, he wanted to watch it all flourish forever and ever. And so, he follows your lead, he listens when you speak, he validates your purpose, and he lets you be exactly who you are and who you want to be. Nothing has to change for him, he knows he can’t get any better than perfect.

𝜗𝜚 Bachira Meguru

When Bachira and you first started dating, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of acceptance that had once been so foreign to him. It felt as though you and all your love for him had encased his mind, body, and soul in a world he had never known before. After some time, Bachira realized that it was your world he had been consumed by. A world devoid of cruelty and all the things he had not yet forgiven, though now, maybe he could. If every moment of his life lead him on the path where one day he would stumble into your universe of love and light, he would endure it all again a million times over, knowing he’d come out the other end happier than ever.

He submits to you in a way that is wholly transparent. Bachira gives you all of him, never faltering in insecurity or shame like he may have before. He can’t help but flutter when you commend him for being so himself around you. How could you not see it? How could you hold the key to the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him and still be so blissfully unaware? It’s adorable, he decides. A testament of your undeniable benevolence and tenderness towards him. He’ll spend the rest of his life thanking you for letting him into your world, where he could unfold before you and be loved as he is.

𝜗𝜚 Michael Kaiser

Kaiser had taken you for naive when you first met, he thinks about it now and curses himself for his arrogance. What if he had let your love pass him by? If memory serves him right, he was a shell. A cold, shitty shell of a man guarding the heart of a boy that never was. It was pathetic, truly, but you never seemed to think so. There was who Kaiser saw himself as deep down, and who he knew others saw him as. The two may have been different in regard to their perspectives, but they both concluded the same thing; he was an asshole.

But you were a deviator. You took every word he said and every terrible thing he did as a reflection of all he’d ever known, you saw him in a completely different light. “Michael, why won’t you let me in?” those words still make him dizzy to this day. It was a loaded question, one that you weren’t afraid to ask. It provided him with a new piece, an unexplored path. And so, he let you in, giving you the chance to turn all he’d ever known on its head, and teach him something new. There was what Kaiser thought he knew about himself, and what others thought they knew about him, but then, there was what you fully understood about him. Which then turned into all the things you loved about him, things that he hadn’t ever seen in himself. You didn’t change him, you embraced him. Your embrace was so tight that it cracked the shell he hid within and let your love seep in. He realized he wanted to stay in that embrace forever, and it became clear that he loved you.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚

i got a little lazy with kaisers at the end i’m sorry 😞 this would’ve been too much to do a lot of characters in one post so if you want to see this prompt with other characters please request and i will do them!!! MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN ❤️

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚

[babyleostuff]

partner privileges | hip hop unit

vocal and performance unit coming soon also, thank you guys for the ideas and help <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

We all know that Coups is Seventeen’s Jeonghan’s sugar daddy. But with them it’s more like - they tell him they want something, and then he buys it. With his partner on the other hand, it would be more like giving his card away to them. He would baby the fuck out of them, he would get seriously o f f e n d e d if they didn’t use his card to buy things for themselves. Forget about paying for anything for the rest of your life when you have Seungcheol by your side. And if you ever think about paying for, I don't know, even a simple meal at the restaurant, he will fight you if you pull out your own money. 

 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO 

Wonwoo likes to tease his members by saying “no” to stuff, just to mess with them. He loves the sulkiness that it brings out in them, and he can’t help but laugh anytime that happens. It’s like a reward after a long day of work. With his partner though??? A word like “no” does not exist. One look from them and he melts, so it’s basically impossible to decline them anything. He’s just so soft for them :((( And because of that, the members use his partner as a way of getting stuff, because one look from his precious love, and he says “yes” immediately (which in members opinion is very unfair, but oh well). There is nothing Wonwoo wouldn’t do for them, even if it’s the silliest thing ever, he will do it for them, that's how much he loves them.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 

Obviously the members’ love language is bullying Gyu, and we know that he doesn’t really mind it, especially after all of those years together, and I’m sure if he was ever offended he would let them know immediately. BUT, because Mingyu is such a precious human being, sometimes he doesn’t have it in him to scold them or tell them to stop, and that would definitely be the partner privilege his partner would get - to defend him when things get too much. And not only with his members, in general too. Mingyu is just such a nice person (sometimes too nice). It doesn’t mean he can’t stand up for himself, but his partner would definitely be the one to defend him first, before he could even fathom that someone just offended him. The urge to protect Gyu is strong gyus :(((

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 

While working on music, for the band or solo, Vernon obviously listens to other peoples’ opinions and thoughts, always taking them into consideration. But if he had to choose a person that has the most influence on his work, it would have to be his partner. One word from them and he’s like “omg, babe that’s such a great idea”, and kisses them before pulling out his laptop immediately. He always lets them listen to snippets of the songs and shows them the new lyrics he is working on before anyone else. 

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

What do you need to know about lgbt+ history as a lgbt+ person? 

Well, if you ask like that: nothing, actually. You do not disqualify from being lgbt+ if you know nothing about history whatsoever. There’s no exam to pass. 

It also doesn’t make you a bad person or a disgrace to the community or an embarrassment if you haven’t heard about a specific chapter of lgbt+ history yet - saying so would be really unfair! Maybe you live in a situation in which you don’t feel safe to do a lot of research on lgbt+ related stuff. Maybe you are a young person growing up in hard times and you’re busy just surviving. Maybe your brain works in a way that makes it harder for you to learn or retain new information than for others. Or hey, maybe you already know lots - but your learning simply focused on a different chapter than the one that hypothetical exam would be on!

Of course there are many benefits to learning about lgbt+ history. You get the general benefits of learning new things (such as training your critical thinking skills, which will help you in your everyday life, and even supporting your brain health!) but there’s also specific benefits to learning about this specific subject.

History isn’t all “learning boring stuff about dead people” - learning about past events and their consequences also helps you understand present events and gauge their potential consequences for your future. This will for example empower you in your voting decisions (or help you understand how politics influence everyday life at all, if that’s your starting point!). 

Knowledge about lgbt+ history also helps you to notice misinformation more easily and enables you to counteract homophobic myths with facts. 

It may even help you on a more personal level: reading up on all the people who came before you can foster a sense of identity and belonging. It might make you feel more confident to know that people like you have been around forever and have achieved so many things! 

So, rather than “what do I need to know”, I think the much better question is “where do I want to start?”. 

Nobody knows everything about lgbt+ history (or about any given topic, really!) and unrealistic expectations will only set you up for disappointment. It’s best to let your curiosity lead you! You’re much more likely to actually read up on something you are genuinely excited to learn about than something you’ve only been told to read. 

With that in mind: it can feel overwhelming to pick a topic to start with! Especially if you’re pretty new to lgbt+ history, you may not even know where to start. So I do want to make some suggestions here. Not as a “you need to research all these today or else I’m revoking your license to gay”, just to spark your curiosity! I will not add explanations right here in the post, I just want to give you some terms you can easily put in the search bar. (Important: these are in random order, not ranked by importance or anything like that!) 

US-Centric lgbt+ History

1. Stonewall Riots

2. Harvey Milk

3. Marsha P. Johnson

4. Sylvia Rivera

5. The Lavender Scare

6. Obergefell v. Hodges

7. Don't Ask, Don't Tell

8. The Mattachine Society

9. The Daughters of Bilitis

11. The AIDS crisis

12. Bayard Rustin

13. Lawrence v. Texas

14. The Gay Liberation Front

15. The Human Rights Campaign

European lgbt+ History

1. Section 28 (UK)

2. Oscar Wilde

3. Alan Turing

4. Magnus Hirschfeld

5. Paragraph 175 (Germany)

6. The Homomonument (Netherlands)

7. EuroPride

8. James Barry

9. The decriminalization of homosexuality in the UK (1967)

10. ILGA-Europe

11. Homosexual Law Reform Act 1986 (New Zealand, part of the Commonwealth)

12. The Equality Act 2010 (UK)

13. Transgender Europe (TGEU)

14. The first same-sex marriage in the Netherlands (2001)

15. Dora Richter

Have fun learning! 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

P.S: You may wonder “But what about places other than the USA or Europe?” (or those of you who already know a lot about lgbt+ history, “but what about (topic I haven’t mentioned here)”) - and that’s actually a really great point! It highlights what we talked about above: nobody knows everything + lgbt+ history is way too rich of a topic to put it all into one short list! This isn’t meant to be a comprehensive list of everything important, just some potential starting points that hopefully lead you to topics beyond ones mentioned on this list.

[overlysour]

＃VARIOUS GENSHIN CHARACTERS♡ — THEM WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS

VARIOUS GENSHIN MEN & WOMEN X READER ♡

Wanderer

He can’t help but want to savour your touches and smiles for himself but he knows he can’t keep you to himself.

You made an effort to interact with him, even with his big ego and judgemental comments. So why would you cheat on him?? What would you even get from that?

Also, his newly received anemo vision represented his freedom, so why would he take yours?

He would still be annoyed, probably rolling his eyes, glaring and overall being grumpy if he’s jealous, he’s not just gonna act like nothing is happening!

Might make a scene out of it… overall pretty petty even if you don’t get what you did wrong.

Probably ends up yelling at the person he’s jealous of after telling you someone needed help (did he throw an arrow at some stupid guy that stalks your neighbour? Yes! Was it just because he needed to distract you? Yes! (also partly because the neighbour wouldn’t shut up about how they have an admirer to you and he wanted attention)).

Aether

It really depends on the situation but he won’t act on what he deems to be unreasonable jealously. He thinks it’s unfair to act in that way when he’s been flirted with by many in front of you, though you still try not to react.

If he thinks it’s reasonable then he will act, just briefly though.

Would probably ask for help with a commission, muttering a sorry and making sure to give you a loving hug.

Understands the feeling of loosing someone very well so he’d want to still make it slightly obvious that you’re his and he’s yours.

Rosaria

Would likely threaten anyone making you uncomfortable in anyway.

If she’s just feeling jealous due to you speaking with someone closely then she absolutely won’t make a scene, though most likely asking who they were and what their relationship is with you.

Might make an excuse to walk off with you..

Overall chill but quick to threaten or drag you off.

Dottore

Doesn’t really come out of his lab much unless going to other nations for fatui missions so he wouldn’t really get the chance to watch you converse with others.

Though If he does get jealous then he’d be slightly colder to you then usual.

Petty as heck (much like many other characters but way more in a ‘I’m-gonna-kill-whoever-that-was’ type of way).

If you were his lover then he’d think high of you, meaning he’d think of stuff like ‘that measly brat doesn’t deserve someone like [Name]’

Wouldn’t make contact with the cause of his jealously, instead gaining small details about them just in case.

Quickly pulls you off, glaring at the probably already scared person.

Acts normal once away, might be the tiniest bit more affectionate.

Xiao

Understanding yet one to quickly go take out anger on any unsuspecting enemies he can find at that moment.

If it’s someone he trusts then he wouldn’t go let his anger out, instead opting to give you more affection then usual.

He doesn’t want to loose you, since he’s lost so many people over the years.

Though it wouldn’t to be death, he wonders if it’d make him feel worse knowing that he’d lost you to emotions.

Overprotective but watches from afar I guess??

Albedo

He’s well aware of human emotions but I think he’d be a little confused at first, like why was he jealous so easily? Also how is he feeling such intense feelings?

Treats it as an experiment on himself, though still making sure he’s keeping any more-than-friendly remarks off anyones tongues (he’d like to hope that you wouldn’t do that but he’s prepared to be a barrier between you two anyways)

Trusts you but won’t hesitate to send a cheeky smile at the person as he plants a kiss on your hand and you become increasingly flustered.

Ayaka

Absolutely makes no scene, she’d just feel a bit self-conscious.

If you give her lots of love then she’ll easily forget about it (though it may linger in her mind for a while no matter what).

Kind and collective, openly stating her worries with you if given encouragement or if you’re worried about her.

Venti

Honestly quite chill depending on what’s happening.

Though no matter the situation, he’ll butt in your conversation by kissing you and hugging your waist with an innocent smile.

Can be intimidating but would only ever act that way when no others can see him act like that, therefore nobody would believe the person and he’d be known as a cheerful and carefree bard!

Childe

Absolute child about it (pun not intended 😗).

He will hang onto your waist whilst he hugs your back as he glares at his source of jealously.

Acts like nothing happened afterwards, dragging you wherever suits him that he thinks you’d like.

Won’t really think about it again, only feeling the need to protect you from harm or people with the wrong intentions.

Diluc

Calm as long as it’s not much of a big deal, extremely understanding and not afraid to let people know that you two belong to each other only and any objections will be ignored.

If it’s a bigger deal then that, then he’ll keep his calm facade and act relatively normal and understanding but with a small loss of patience.

Worst case scenario, he’ll threaten them without a smile in sight.

Won’t pay much mind to what happened, only focused on perhaps kissing you on the cheek or hand a bit more.

Zhongli

A man that is genuinely not that easy to make jealous, seemingly always calm and knowledgeable.

If in a situation that he becomes jealous, he’ll kindly ask to speak with you and then express his feelings.

Would easily sort out any misunderstandings between you two.

To be continued. I will take requests on what characters people want included!

[kissingchoso]

Choso is obsessed with kissing you.

Which is crazy considering less than two months ago, he hadn’t a single clue what a kiss even was. He remembers staring at you, face neutral but there was a slightly consider look in his eyes when you asked him if he’s had his first kiss. To which he told you in confidence that he never has and you took it upon yourself to let him know exactly what it entailed.

At the first few kisses were a little messy and uncoordinated but Choso is a very fast learner. For his first make out session, he had you panting, staring up at him with a surprised expression while he looked hungry to eat you up some more.

Choso never had felt this level of desire before. Before, this was a foreign concept to him, another thing to add on to the pile of what makes humans more complex and frustrating. But it wasn’t until you were placing your soft hands on his cheeks and pulling his lips against yours did he realize. He wants to do this often.

He doesn’t understand why there’s blood rushing down to his nether region. All to the point where his cock is bulging against his loose fitting pants. All he can remember is feeling assured when you looked at him from your seated position on his lap and whispering to him that it was normal.

It was human.

Since then, Choso ‘pops a boner’ (thank you Itadori), whenever you’re on his lap and dancing your pretty lips against his.

It’s to the point where Choso is craving it at odd hours of the day.

His first thought in the morning is how much he needs to have his lips and body pressed against yours. Throughout his slow afternoons, he seeks you with the intent of having you sinking in the sheets beneath him to make out. Even in the middle of the night when he knows your asleep but all he can think of is being near you because of your ability to scratch that itch he can’t figure out what it’s coming from.

It’s no different now.

Choso is returning from a mission, body filled with scratches and dried blood. He just barely l acknowledges his younger brother in passing before he goes to your room and knocks a couple of times.

You answer the door wearing your loungewear clothes. Somewhere behind you, your book lays forgotten on your bed with soft music playing from your computer. This is the first time he’s felt peace since this leaving earlier this morning.

You give him a soft grin at the sight of him standing and not looking like he’s putting in strenuous amount of effort in doing so. “How does the other guy look?” You teased some.

“Dead.” Is all Choso responds with. A very literal response but it draws a giggle out of you and Choso feels proud of it.

You drag him into your peaceful world so that you can help clean him up. He was leaning against your bathroom counter with his hands resting in the cool surface behind him. His hair was down from their pigtails and he swapped out his bloody attire for some random pieces of clothing he never knew you “borrowed” from him.

He was watching you pack up the first aid kit, tossing out the soiled gauze and failed to place bandages. Now your…. person of conflicting interest was all patched up and looking fresh.

He watches you with his normal expression put the items away before coming to stand before him. “How do you feel?” You ask, voice soft and patient.

Choso just looks down at the professional level job you did on him and he simply nods at you. “Better.”

You smile that normal gorgeous one and he grins at you, a sight that’s rare but you appreciate it every time your eyes are blessed with the sight. You breathe out his name, but Choso cuts you off by pushing himself up off the counter and standing tall in front of you.

“I really would like to kiss you right now. Is that okay?”

Oh you’re going to eat him up one day.

“Sure, hotshot. But let’s go to the bed first, yeah?”

Now it would be unfair if you let Choso hold himself up after such a crazy fight. That’s why you have to coax him to lay down in his back and shush him once you’re straddling his lap.

Any complaints died on his tongue and he took the time to remind himself of what your lips feel like. He grunted against your lips, placing his hand on your thigh.

There he goes again, growing hard underneath you with no regard of it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation of it, dragging your hips up and down slowly to rub his cock. Choso’s grip on you tightens. He even rocks his hips in time with your sensual grinding.

You pull away from his lips to look at him properly. “This okay?” You ask, breathlessly.

Choso looks up at you with a wild expression in his eyes. “We’ve never done this before…”

“I know, I know,” you pant against his lips. Your nose nudges against his and you stare up at him with a little smile. “Do you wish to stop? If it’s too much then I shall not force you.”

Choso immediately shakes his head no. Eyes widened with a new emotion swirling in them. Knowing it’s his first time and his body is probably in no shape to be doing anything too extravagant, you stick to simply moving your hips back and forth against his completely hardened boner.

Curiously, his hips thrust upwards to meet yours a couple of times and he realizes very quickly that this was a good call. You return your mouth onto his, moaning against his parted lips as you humped him like a little bunny.

There’s a wet patch forming on the front of his pants and Choso doesn’t have it in him to care about that right now. Or the tight coil in his stomach that feels that it’s going to break into two any second now. He’s solely memorizing the feel of your lips on his, his tongue roughly pushing against yours just to taste you.

He remembers chasing your lips when you tried to pull away from him. He only hummed at the soft chuckle that escaped your throat before you are placing a hand on his collarbone to gently hold him back.

“We should get naked. It’ll feel better then,” you simply suggest.

“Naked?” His eyes are furrowed.

He’s never seen another woman naked. He’d only recently gotten used to this form himself. But with the subtle fire going behind your eyes and the ache coming between his legs, maybe it’ll be best to trust you for the millionth time in his lifetime.

[inamindfarfaraway]

I love how Paul's character in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is defined entirely by a lack of desire, or desire defined only as 'not what I don't want'. "What Do You Want, Paul?" is a big joke about what a terrible narrative protagonist he is. But it's deeper than that. Throughout the show, even in the smallest, most insignificant phrasing, this man only ever expresses wants in these negative forms, as if he's incapable of feeling attraction in itself rather than simply avoiding what he dislikes. And only avoiding! He never says that he hates anything, either! That would give him passion, drive, perhaps the goal of actively removing that thing. No, he exclusively uses the verb hate in past tense.

He doesn't like musicals, singing, dancing or public performances. He makes this very clear, to the point that it's one of his most significant character traits. At no point does he ever talk about liking any media.

He doesn't want to do social activities.

He doesn't want to give away his money. About both this and the above, he can provide no logical explanation or moral justification. He just doesn't feel like them.

He always gets black coffee because it has "no cream, no sugar, nothing in it"; that is to say, he might not necessarily love it, merely prefer it over its sweeter or more complex alternatives.

He doesn't believe that Emma should have to sing and dance at work - he doesn't want her life to be so unfair and annoying to the both of them.

He doesn't want to obstruct the workings of his office (saying "that's the last thing I want" triggers "What Do You Want, Paul?").

He says, "I wanna go home!" when Mr Davidson is singing at him, but means that he wants to be somewhere safe and not stuck in this incredibly uncomfortable situation.

He doesn't want to die.

He specifically doesn't want to die in Clivesdale, because fuck Clivesdale.

He doesn't want to join the Hive.

He doesn't want to leave Hatchetfield, even when it's the site of an alien invasion that is his personal worst nightmare. He actually says that "All things considered, I like Hatchetfield", arguably an exception to the standard. However, he's also well aware of the town's flaws and problems. He grew up one of its poorer residents, attending the inferior, underfunded Sycamore High School where he casually admits the students "hated [themselves]" and having to watch its more respectable rival Hatchetfield High's school play. He has no strong investment in his tedious middle-class office job. He doesn't get along with some of his fellow townsfolk, like his coworker Ted and all the employees of Beanies except Emma. He awkwardly evades giving to charity and the homeless every morning on his way to work. His life is decidedly not one of utter bliss, and yet it's good enough for him in that he doesn't have the energy, ambition or imagination to want anything more. Since he's "been here [his] whole life", his affection for his hometown could be more an aversion to everywhere else or the hassle of travelling. Sticking with the devil he intimately knows.

He doesn't think badly of Emma, and says so because he doesn't want her to or believe that he does after learning that she helped make a "hated" experience of his happen.

He doesn't want to let Bill die, which is why he goes with Bill to rescue Alice. His heroism and proactiveness at the turning point of the end of Act One start to notably erode his apathy, but his phrasing reaffirms his negative motivations: "Hey, it's not like you're asking me to go see Mama Mia!", "Emma, there comes a time in every man's life when he has to draw a line in the sand. And I will never be in a fucking musical."

He doesn’t want Bill to blame himself for Alice's endangerment, stay in the area once Alice is revealed to be a vessel of the Hive or kill himself.

He doesn't want to do some light reading on the universal truth of love and the strength of the human heart.

He has no positive motivation. He breaks one of the most basic rules of being a fictional character, let alone the main character the audience is supposed to root for. He isn't just an antihero, he's an anti-protagonist. Although this could easily make him boring or unsympathetic, he manages to seem relatable. Real. Human. He captures so genuinely an ordinary person living an ordinary life suddenly trapped in a horror story. How many of us can honestly articulate "one concrete goal that motivates all [our] actions"? Even if you can, you wouldn't undergo a narratively fulfilling and thematically cohesive arc related to that desire the way a fictional character would. We're all essentially just trying to survive each day. To make or keep our lives however we define 'good enough'. We may not have a crystal clear picture of our ideal life, but I bet we all have a long list of things we don't want in it. We're all Paul. He even says, “I want what anyone wants”.

What more appropriate antagonist for this man to face, then, than a force that exists to strip people of their autonomy, their individuality, their personhood, and force them to play archetypical characters in a conventional narrative? The Hive observes that Paul is an anti-protagonist and takes offence to this. It seeks to convert him into his antithesis, the "bold" "leading man" of its musical who the audience can "sympathize with". The Infected highlight this in the opening song, in which they eagerly anticipate and prepare the audience for his entrance... and he misses his cue. He isn't following their script. Perhaps that's why the audience is able to believe in this average, unassuming antihero's potential to succeed, to defeat the Hive or at the very least escape it, despite how fraught and grim the situation becomes. The story certainly proves itself to be cruel to its characters; but Paul doesn't operate like a normal character. The Hive promises to fulfil people's desires and make them happy throughout the play. Charlotte, Bill, Hidgens and Ted's deaths are connected to, by either direct causality or thematic relevance, their respective desires for Sam's love, Alice's safety, world peace (and the glory of a musical career) and Ted's own survival. Paul is uniquely immune to this pattern of death related to a core motivation.

Until:

"I can't leave without Emma”, “a friend of mine."

"Is there a chance of something more?"

"I think so. I'd like there to be. I want there to be."

He wants Emma, her life and her happiness and maybe, just maybe, her love. He wants to love her. To spend time with her. For the first time ever, he wants more out of life, not less. He's a little bit more of a character. After the Infected reprise the "Did you hear the word?" section of the opening song, building up to his appearance, this time he does enter the theatre, coming down the aisle just as he was meant to. Right on cue. Paul is now vulnerable to the narrative - the Hive's narrative. And the Hive's control.

Still he resists, even while doubting if he was ever really happy before. Not only does he use his final words, fittingly, to declare that he doesn't like musicals, but before that he firmly refutes the Hive, and the philosophy behind it and all the pressures and temptatations it might represent: "It doesn't matter what I want." What matters is the good of the world. Emma. Love. Hope. Freedom. Integrity. Humanity, which must be wonderful if we can make sacrifices like this for all the right reasons.

Rest in peace, Paul Matthews. You were the opposite of a conventional protagonist, but a true hero.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!

carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.

shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.

the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.

regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.

the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously. 

carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.

you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.

he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.

he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.

and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea. 

little red riding hood.

it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well. 

piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.

you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is. 

you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch. 

his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically. 

“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.

you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”

carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.

after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along. 

after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.

“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”

you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes. 

he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs. 

“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”

you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”

carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard. 

carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”

“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”

you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.

“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”

carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”

“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”

carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.

your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location. 

you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.

the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.

he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.

it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him. 

he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.

you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late. 

you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.

carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.

carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head. 

you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide. 

he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.

carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape. 

he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.

“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists,  to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs. 

you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.

“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”

carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”

you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.

carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.

carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed. 

his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.

carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it. 

his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval. 

your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”

carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.

carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him. 

he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you. 

carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.

moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling. 

you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.

he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.

carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear. 

rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.

all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”

carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.

carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.  

your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.

carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”

abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg. 

“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”

carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum. 

carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted. 

carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.

your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can. 

you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”

carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”

your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”

carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“

“carlos!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“

“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”

he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.

“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”

you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.

the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight. 

“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”

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© httpsserene 2023

[mayumml]

Midori is not a good lover

The REAL Sou Hiyori relationship headcanons <3

first off, you don’t know if he genuinely likes you or not and most likely will never be sure 

Maybe you’re a piece of pawn in his stupid chess game but what can you do?

Midori manipulates and gaslights you just like with anyone else, you’re the primary victim that receives most of it though

He seems like a man that didn’t have a heart, and he literally doesn’t 

Feels like he doesn’t know how to act in a relationship or more like he doesn’t care enough to

You think he’d choose his work over you anytime 

He’s so on and off with his affection

He treats you like everyone else, particularly more strict with you sometimes and scolds you more often than the other participants

This fucker is adamant about “being fair to all participants and not letting a personal relation change that” and yet you feel like he’s being the most unfair to you

Even more passive aggressive when it comes to you, he loves to bring up the past and laugh when you get pissed

But then sometimes, he would appear out of nowhere and gives you a quick peck

You’d expect him to be open to PDA, and yet he only ever initiates (and allows) any affection when it’s just the two of you 

You’re conflicted, though, at certain times he’ll choose a timing where most of everyone is gathered in one place and approach you with the most affection you’ll ever receive from him

He makes sure everyone is looking, maybe it’s his way of showing his twisted sense of superiority?

Midori very quickly reverts back to ignoring you if he is satisfied 

You learn that he is extremely possessive

Yes, you get fed up with his shit many times and he knows it well

Does he ever apologize? Never. 

Like ever. 

You could confront him, but he’ll give you the same saccharine smile and feigns innocence

“What’s wrong with me showing my lover off to everyone? Does that upset you?” 

When you try to explain that’s not why you’re upset, he convinces you that you’re overreacting and somehow makes you seem like the bad guy for “not wanting to be seen with him.” (bitchass) 

Weirdly loves small talk 

Midori would interrogate you whenever he pleases and ask about your favorite color to wear on a rainy day 

You cant tell if he really cares about your responses at all because he just stands there and blinks with his smile and throws follow up questions at you

Kind of feels like he wants to know everything about you but also nothing at the same time 

Remembers small, itty bitty details about you

It’s endearing but also freaks you out because he remembers which angle you prefer to wear your collar

Very touchy when he wants to be, but acts like a jerk when he decides he doesn’t feel like it 

Limited use of pet names because he prefers calling you by your name 

Will call you sweetheart (mockingly most of the time), “my favorite participant,” or a shortened version of your name

Likes to receive but doesn’t give, unless he needs something

You don’t know why you’re still with him 

Midori is very good at making you feel special but also worthless

Will give you overly expensive presents that you don’t need and stare at your reaction as you open them 

(does he think this makes up for his neglect as a partner?)

Very likely to give you jewelry with his initials, he might have one with your initials but won’t wear it 

Sucks at comforting

He actually just doesn’t comfort at all

He makes things worse when you’re upset 

“You’re crying? Humans really are sentimental beings, after all. I guess crying is all that you’re capable of.” 

Let you play and style with his hair in private 

Gets defensive and change the subject when you mention Shin’s history with him

Avoids personal questions like the plague 

Actively tries to poke into every corner of your life. Boundaries? What’s that?

Not a very good partner, he’s just not a good person in general

Midori rarely mentions your relationship in front of the other participants, but when he does, he refers to you as his lover

Will pair you with him with the red light, he knows you don’t have the guts to kill him 

Urges you on to kill him way too often 

He gives you a smug knowing grin and a kiss when you can’t do it

Don’t try to physically hurt him, it turns him on (he won’t hesitate to break your arm)

Remember when I said he’s very possessive? 

Fucker treats you like an object

no one takes what belongs to him

Won’t be the type to defend you and won’t fight if someone hits on you

He would direct the conversation elsewhere and weird out whoever it is somehow (always works) 

Shows up a few days later with news that the attacker mysteriously jumped of a building (willingly?) 

His romantic side is very unconventional

“Would you love me even if I was a worm?” 

“Worms are rather dirty and invasive, are they not? I’d rather not deal with a pest, thanks.”