#no he made horrible choices he knows it even if he’s in denial of it and he deserves to be punished for those crimes

[ectonurites]

almost 4am can't stop thinking about the meaning of the idiom 'to have blood on [someone's] hands'—to be responsible for a person's death—combined with the fact that Zach is the one we are specifically shown with Daryl's actual blood on his hands (once for real and once in a dream)... Not Josh who had been holding the sword Daryl fell onto, but Zach who took the sword out.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Are You There, Wolf? (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Synopsis: Minho had always deemed himself a bit of a weirdo. In his humble opinion, he’d only become even weirder with time, especially after he acquired his supernatural… condition. He’d never cared much about it, not when you’d always been there for him, and hopefully you would always be. [This is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. You don’t particularly need to read the other instalments related to Minho to understand this, but it’ll add more depth to the story if you do, so I highly recommend it~]. Warnings: Minho’s POV · mentions of shooting guns [it’s an off-handed comment made by Minho, nothing serious, but figured i’d put a warning] · mentions of gambling · mentions of cheating [but no one cheated] · mentions of blood, injuries, and violence · near death experiences · Minho was dumb and in denial for a long while · mentions and depictions of monster fucking shenanigans · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: this originally started as a smutty drabble inspired by an ask from an anon… somehow it grew hands and beat me up and made me black out and now we’ve got a full instalment. a chunk of it is just stuff that happened in other instalments, but with Minho’s input. hope you enjoy ! special thanks to @notastraykid for reading this and letting me know it wasn’t the worst piece of literature she’s ever read.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Minho's previous WereRoomies instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

Smut Warnings: mentions of oral · somnophilia [all acts related to it are consensual] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · creampie

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Minho always believed himself to be a rational man. He was also an animal, yes. But his animal instincts were, essentially, stunted. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was born human and turned into a werewolf when he was very young, or if there was something wrong with him in general–he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.

Jisung–who’d been the first other werewolf Minho ever befriended–believed it to be the first option. He had encouraged Minho to go to a specialist and ask, but Minho never really paid much attention to it.

He figured that, as long as he didn’t feel ill or that he didn’t hurt anyone around him, it didn’t really matter.

However, just how many psychologists and therapists by trade seemed to choose that career path in order to understand their own brains and behaviours, sometimes he wondered if his own inability to understand his animal needs was what fully drove him into becoming a vet.

Sure, he had always cared for animal’s safety, he always knew one too many facts about many different critters, and with all the injured animals that seemed to come his way when he was a kid, he had spent more time at the vet’s office than he did in his own home. He supposed all things combined played a role in his career choice, and that had certainly helped him understand himself a little better… kind of.

Minho was a simple man. A man that, in a sick twist of fate, ended up becoming the dictionary definition of a monster.

He’d admit that for a long time, he blamed himself for what had happened to him. ‘Maybe if I hadn’t taken that detour through the woods that time I wouldn’t have been turned’, ‘Maybe if I had been paying attention to my surroundings I wouldn’t have been bit’, ‘Maybe I did something horrible in a past life or this one to warrant such an event’, he’d always think about these things whenever the pains and aches caused by his condition were a bit too strong to bear.

It took him an even longer time to accept the fact that it hadn’t been his fault at all. Nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the situation. He would’ve never been able to predict that a giant wolf would come out of nowhere and bite him completely unprompted. 

To this day, over ten years later, Minho still couldn’t remember what the wolf looked like.

It all happened so fast… All he could remember was the fuzzy canine shape, the sound of growls and snarls and of his own bones cracking inside his body, along with the searing pain that spread from the gash that the creature had left on his side.

He couldn’t remember the bleeding, or the amount of time he spent laying on the forest ground, or even the moment he was eventually found. One second he was in an immense amount of pain, and the next he was completely fine, as if nothing had happened, laying on a hospital bed with his best friend hugging him and sobbing against his chest.

Minho could’ve never imagined that that event in the woods would change the way he interacted with the world forever.

One seemingly normal evening after what he thought had been ‘an accident’, while he was hanging out in his best friend’s home, doing their weekly watch of Kamen Rider, it was like something suddenly started rattling inside of him. Like an itch one can’t seem to scratch satisfactorily.

He couldn’t breathe, his joints hurt, all his muscles seemed to burn, and before he knew it, he was feeling parts of his body he had never felt before. His vision felt different, his sense of smell was overwhelmed, and although his surroundings were familiar, it was almost like he was seeing them from someone else’s perspective.

Needless to say, he was having a full on meltdown right then and there. Especially when he caught what he thought would be a glimpse of himself on a reflective surface, and what he saw instead was a dog… Well, more accurately, a wolf.

To this day, he was very grateful that it all happened while you, his best friend, were there with him. Minho honestly wasn’t sure how he would’ve reacted had he been on his own. He could still remember the panic he felt, how much he was crying, how much you were crying. Things would’ve probably been very different if you hadn’t hugged him tight and reassured him time and time again that you’d be there for him… That you wanted to figure this out together.

When he had finally understood what had happened to him in the woods, and after many trips to the local library to do some digging on the internet, you both came to the conclusion that the most logical explanation to his newfound condition was that he was now afflicted with lycanthropy… And it wasn’t the psychological kind.

Which was crazy. 

Completely absurd.

But what seemed to be sourced in fantasy and myths was literally the only thing that matched his symptoms perfectly.

Everything was confusing for a long time after that. Everything was too loud, too bright, too intense… His already sensitive senses seemed to be overstimulated all day, every day–even worse than before–and he could hardly cope.

He could hear conversations that were happening metres away from him, he could hear people’s breathing and their heartbeats and sometimes other internal organs as well… It was honestly driving him a little bit insane.

Minho realised very quickly that having a supernaturally enhanced sense of smell when he was starting high school was quite possibly one of the worst things to ever happen to him. Having been turned into a werewolf was hard enough on its own, now he had to deal with teenagers that seemed to hold a grudge against soap.

When it all got too overwhelming, he simply got close to you. As close as he could. He was sure he had memorised the rhythm of your heartbeat at this point, and the constant, familiar sound always seemed to help ease his sour mood.

‘Have you gotten a new perfume? Or a new fabric softener?’ He couldn’t help but ask one day. He’d noticed recently that there seemed to be a scent of lavender lingering around him whenever you were close. He didn’t mind. In fact, it actually comforted him quite a bit.

‘You know I don’t use fabric softener, dummy. And no, I haven’t gotten a new perfume’, your answer puzzled him a bit, but it wasn’t until a handful of months later, when he finally met Jisung, that he understood what that lavender scent was.

When Minho first met Jisung, he was honestly a bit surprised. Mostly because the second Jisung was within his radius, it was almost like he could tell the younger boy was a werewolf, too. There was something about the smell of roses and cotton radiating from Jisung that just gave it away, although Minho didn’t know how, or why.

Jisung quickly became an integral part of his friend group–although, to be fair,  ‘group’ was a big word to use, considering you were the only real friend Minho had, and the one he consistently hung out with. What used to be a simple pair of weirdos became a trio of weirdos, and Minho was genuinely happy about that.

He immediately felt like he could trust Jisung, and in the long run, Minho was grateful for his presence. Not only because Jisung was funny and eloquent and he also enjoyed watching niche TV shows, but also because Jisung helped him understand this unexplored side of him.

‘You’re an alpha, clearly’, Jisung told Minho once. As if that meant something important. ‘Your scent is kind of… Like, you smell of vanilla and a recently lit bonfire. Somehow very alpha-like, but milder than what I’m used to, I suppose��’

Jisung explained to him all these werewolf designations of alphas, betas, and omegas that were based on a werewolf’s inherent nature… He explained what scents were, how to tell what status a wolf had based on their scent, and when he confirmed that humans did, in fact, also have a scent, Minho just knew then that that lavender scent he always smelt when you were close was simply your natural scent. Just like cotton and roses was Jisung’s.

Meeting Jisung–aside from meeting you–was possibly one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to Minho. Not only did Jisung become one of his best friends in this whole wide world, not only did he help Minho understand his newfound nature, but also, thanks to him, Minho was finally able to find a family of his own.

Being honest, in his hometown, Minho didn’t have anyone but you. His mother barely even gave him the time of day–mostly because she was busy working two or three jobs to support them both.

When his now step-dad came into the picture, money was no longer a problem, but by that point Minho had already been turned, and that, coupled with the fact that his step-dad wasn’t really that good of a man, was enough for him to distance himself from his relatives.

Minho also had Jisung for a while, but he eventually left town because his entire pack was moving out. That was fine, he was sure they would meet again eventually. Besides, technology around that time made it so it was hardly possible to not be in contact with someone.

After high school, when Minho finally decided to pursue higher education–to pursue his dream of becoming a vet–the university he wanted to study in was, coincidentally, in the same area where Jisung was living then. And not only was Jisung living there, he was in a pack. A different one from his childhood one.

Back in the early stages of his friendship with Jisung, he had explained to Minho that werewolves usually lived in packs, just like regular wolves did. Jisung’s childhood pack didn’t treat omegas that well, from what Minho could recall. So, being an omega himself, Jisung always felt like a bit of an outcast. The fact that he had found a pack where he was actually comfortable was a big deal, and Minho was genuinely happy for his friend.

Even though the pack was essentially only three young wolves, Jisung always spoke highly of his two other packmates. ‘Chris and Changbin are amazing people, dude. Never met wolves like them aside from, like… you. I think you’d be a great addition to our pack, and Chris agrees! Come meet them, you won’t regret it’.

And he didn’t regret it. Not one bit. If anything, joining Chris’ pack, becoming close to him and Changbin to help them lead it, was the third best thing that could’ve ever happened to Minho.

‘Changbin’s my right hand. Although it doesn’t make much sense to have a second in command when we’re, like, three dudes only, I feel like at any point more people could join us, so I like to be prepared’, Chris, the leader–the alpha–of that pack of Jisung’s wasn’t that much older than Minho, but there was something about him that exuded leadership and comfort. It was so obvious even someone like Minho, who wasn’t that in touch with his wolf instincts, was able to tell this man was a real alpha. 

‘It’s very customary for the alpha of the pack to have at least two other people next to them to deal with all possible pack matters, and Jisung believes you might be suitable for that. He said, and I quote, that you have a heart of gold. He vouches for you, and I trust him, so if you want to join and help me out, you’re more than welcome to. Hell, you’re welcome even if you don’t want to help me lead specifically, but it’s important you know that as a pack, we must always look out for each other’, Chris’ proposal was straight forward. No matter what role Minho would fill in, he was welcome to join them.

Being honest with himself, Minho wasn’t really that much of a leader–not in his opinion, at least–but the prospect of joining a pack seemed to tickle something on the back of his mind. He supposed it was one of those instinctual things he didn’t understand well, but, in a way, Chris made him feel reassured, so he told him he’d be happy to join and help him out however he could. With one condition, though.

‘You see, I’ve got my best friend… Not sure if Jisung has told you about her. She’s human, and she’s very important to me. If joining your pack of werewolves means I can’t see her anymore then I’m not doing it’, Minho loved Jisung, and he had a good impression of Chris and Changbin, but, truly, if joining them meant he had to leave you behind, he’d much rather stay on his own.

He knew from Jisung that the moment you moved into a werewolf den, a lot of decisions had to involve the alpha’s approval, and considering you were human, Minho had a genuine fear of Chris telling him that humans simply weren’t allowed. He’d honestly much rather shoot himself in the leg than have to cut ties with you. You’d been the only constant in his life, and losing you was something he just couldn’t afford. You meant too much to him. Maybe more than he would’ve liked to admit back then.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t seem to have major issues with that. If anything, all he did was ask to meet you before you could stay at his den, and as long as you were someone that could be trusted, he wouldn’t have any problems with your presence at the den. That was fine, there was no doubt in Minho’s mind that Chris would like you and see just how nice you were.

He had obviously been right. Your first time meeting Chris couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Not even fifteen minutes passed and he was already dragging Minho to the side and telling him it was all good. 

‘I think she’s nice. It’s fine by me if your kitten drops by or stays over whenever you guys want’, Chris had patted him on the back, with a teasing grin on his face, taking special care to stress the word kitten–which was a nickname Minho had given you randomly one day years ago while trying to cheer you up.

Giving you that nickname had been a moment of weakness, a moment in which he also had been sad and his inhibitions had lowered a bit. The pet name just fell out of his mouth, it had practically been a perfect textbook definition of a Freudian slip, considering Minho had, quite stupidly, developed a crush on you by then.

Chris was a good person, but he also seemed to enjoy teasing Minho whenever his more than obvious crush presented itself, even when Minho himself was in denial about it.

Minho was convinced you didn’t feel anything other than platonic love towards him, so he always tried to delude himself into thinking he absolutely didn’t have a crush on you. You were his best friend, one of the most important people in his life, and he would never risk losing you over what he believed to be unrequited feelings.

Sometimes, though, it was almost impossible not to think about you in ways that would definitely be considered inappropriate. It was easy in his day to day life, but, twice a year, he had to face the fact that his feelings for you went beyond your friendship…

Minho was well aware that he was a weird guy. Throughout his life, he had only ever cared about animals, Kamen Rider, and you and Jisung. He could hardly hold a normal, civil conversation if it didn’t involve any of those things, he said things and had odd habits that could potentially put off people around him, and that was only on his human side. His wolf side was a whole other can of worms.

He already had a hard time understanding his basic human needs, and that seemed to triple when it came to his animal needs. For a long time he couldn’t tell when he needed to go on a run, or when he was in a bad mood because of a weird scent around him, and no need to even get started on whatever the hell was happening with his ruts…

Figuring out that he now had to go through days of unbearable horniness was by far one of the weirdest experiences Minho ever had to deal with during this whole ‘being turned into a half animal’ thing. After he reached sexual maturity, twice a year, he had a time period of around four to five days when every single one of his instincts and senses pulled him into a trance-like state in which all he wanted to do was fuck.

But not only did he want to fuck… He specifically wanted to breed someone. And even more specifically, he wanted to breed you.

It was awful. The whole ordeal was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausting.

The first time he went into rut, he was sure the pain he was feeling came close to the one he briefly felt back when he had been bit and turned. His body was increasingly warm, he was sweating buckets, his cock was hard for an almost criminal amount of time, and nothing he did made it better. 

Even if he managed to make himself come, it barely helped him feel relieved. If anything, it got him more frustrated, to the point where he would start breaking things around him–both intentionally and unintentionally.

The worst part of going into rut, though, was the thoughts he had throughout those days. He could only think of you. Of kissing you, of tasting those utmost sensitive areas of your body, of bending you over and ramming himself into you until he got tied to you and got to fill you to the brim with his cum…

Logic was something that didn’t exist for him in this time period, so those thoughts ran freely in his mind for the duration of his rut… thoughts that he had to come face to face once his rut subsided and he could think like a human again instead of a horny dog.

Needless to say, Minho couldn’t look at your face for a whole month after he went through his first rut. He was haunted by the images his imagination had produced at the time, and he was convinced you didn’t deserve that, that he had somehow broken your trust. It was something he never spoke about with anyone. Not even Jisung. He made a vow to keep this a secret in order to protect your friendship.

Little did Minho know that his friendship with you didn’t need to be protected from anything…

Many years after his first rut, sharing a bed with you during one fateful trip to the woods with the whole pack, was all it took for the line of your friendship to blur completely. Minho had been in denial about his feelings for so long, he had been completely blind to your feelings.

That night, with his senses enhanced by the moon, with his animal instincts bubbling to the forefront of his human mind, that need for you seemed to be impossible to ignore. While he laid with you on that bed, under the covers, being your big spoon, he couldn’t help but get lost in how fast your heart was beating the tighter he hugged you, he was drowning in your lavender scent, and he genuinely didn’t want to be rescued.

You staring at his mouth for a moment too long while he hovered over you had suddenly ignited a spark of hope deep within him. That, added to your increased heart rate, and what he couldn’t mistake for anything other than arousal lingering in your scent, was quickly making him delirious.

‘Kitten… Why are you… Why are you looking at my mouth?’

‘Just thinking…’

‘About?’

‘Things I should not be thinking about’. 

After the words came out of your mouth, and with all the sensory inputs around him, Minho suddenly felt so incredibly stupid.

How had he never noticed that your body seemed to react to him in the same ways his did to you? How long had it been doing that? He had been blindsided by his own desperate attempts to not drive you away from him with his feelings, he had never noticed you looking at him in the same way he looked at you.

He wasn’t sure if it had been the moon reinforcing his stunted instincts just enough to enhance his questionable sense of awareness, but as he looked at you, as he saw just how blown your pupils were, as he watched you stare at his mouth, all caution flew out the window. For once, he decided to take a chance, and the moment his lips made contact with yours, the moment the tiniest of moans left your mouth with the contact, he just knew he had made the right choice.

Kissing you, after so many years of trying not to think of what it would feel like, was even better than he could’ve ever imagined. Minho was ravenous, desperate to feel as much of you as he possibly could, and you, very clearly, were in a similar state.

You both agreed–while still kissing, if he might add–that you needed to discuss the situation, but, admittedly, neither of you wanted to stop. So you didn’t, but only after reaching a compromise to talk about it later.

Minho honestly couldn’t even tell how many times you both had sex that night. It seemed like he’d entered a time pocket in which the only thing that mattered was indulging in each other’s body as many times as you possibly could.

By the time you were both thoroughly satisfied, he simply hugged you close under the covers, relishing the feel of your bare skin against his, relishing the feel of your head on his chest and his arms around your frame. Hugging you to sleep, especially this intimately, was everything he could’ve ever hoped for.

It wasn’t like he’d never hugged you to sleep. He’d shared a bed with you many times in the past, but doing it after having your lips on his, after knowing how it felt like to be inside you, and the mere idea that you reciprocated his feelings, was enough to make him fall asleep smiling to himself like a fool.

Even the next morning, when Minho woke up, still very much naked, when he turned around to find you already awake and looking at him, he couldn’t help but smile like a fool once again. Especially not when you were smiling so bright yourself.

“Morning”, you mumbled, immediately shuffling closer so you could tuck your head under his chin and hug his waist.

“Morning, kitten”, Minho pressed a kiss to the top of your head and hugged you even closer, slotting one of his legs between yours to further tangle your limbs together.

You just hummed, nuzzling his neck before you started to press kisses on it. Your soft lips on his skin sent a shiver down his spine, which certainly didn’t help ease the effects of morning wood.

Minho was drowsy, maybe even still horny, but he needed to have this conversation with you, or he was sure he’d explode. “Can we talk about it now?”

You pulled yourself away from his neck to look him in the eyes. Reaching forward with your hand, you pushed his hair out of his eyes, and the movement made them fall shut. “What do you wanna talk about?”

You kept playing with his hair for a bit, then traced the features of his face with the pad of one of your fingers, until his eyes opened again.

“I need to know where we go from here”.

You took a deep breath, mulling his words. Finally, you retracted your hand from his face to hold his hand instead. “Minho, I let you do things to me last night that I’ve never let anyone else do. I don’t know about you, but I hope where we go from here is a relationship”.

Minho couldn’t help but wonder then if he would ever stop smiling like a fool after all this. “So you’re my girlfriend now? Is this what we’re doing?”

“Only if you’re my boyfriend”, you chuckled, leaning in to press a brief kiss on his cheek.

Minho hugged your waist, and he pulled you closer into him. “Mmm… Your ex is gonna have a field day if he ever finds out”.

Your ex had spent the last leg of your relationship with him convinced you had cheated on him with Minho. During the big fight that led to your breakup, he had told you how obvious it was that Minho had feelings for you. At the time you just dumped his ass, and Minho, Jisung, and you spent a whole evening just dragging his name through the mud.

That relationship didn’t last long anyway. He was probably, in Minho’s opinion, the worst partner you had ever had. He was insecure, misogynistic, and manipulative. You hadn’t cheated on him, but Minho supposed there was one thing he had been right about… he did have feelings for you back then.

You scoffed at the mention of your ex, rolling your eyes. “Just like your ex probably will, too”.

Ah, Minho’s ex… It had been a long time since Minho had been in a relationship, but how could he forget the ex that made him choose between him and you?

He could admit it was an asshole move to be involved romantically with someone while having feelings for someone else, but back then he was so deep in denial he couldn’t even acknowledge what he felt for you. Regardless, you were still his friend, and he’d never choose anyone else over one of his friends. In his opinion, someone that cared about him would never make him choose in the first place.

“I guess we’ll have to let them froth at the mouth with rage and believe whatever they want to believe. That is, if they still care”, Minho chuckled, rolling you on your back to start pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

That seemingly innocent act of smothering your face with kisses turned into a much less innocent mess of lips and tongues. Minho came to find out that making out with you was absolutely exhilarating, especially when it ended with his mouth between your legs.

Fucking you that morning might’ve not been the smartest move to make when you both were about to walk into a kitchen full of people with enhanced senses, but Minho figured that if anyone commented on it, he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was going to keep it a secret, anyway.

Although, he’d admit that having Jisung scream it to everyone in the room caught him off guard. Just like learning that everyone had placed bets on whether Minho and you would get together last night also caught him off guard.

He figured he deserved that last one, considering he himself had also gotten the rest of the pack to place bets on whether Chris and his girlfriend would fuck last night or not…

In any case, other than the bet, the whole pack seemed to seamlessly embrace this new dynamic between you and Minho. After all, starting a relationship with you didn’t change things much.

You still lived almost an hour away from him, you still encouraged him to indulge in his interests, you still talked every day… If anything, the only major difference was that you met more frequently now. Seeing you weekly instead of monthly was certainly an improvement.

It was kind of amusing to Minho how everything was almost the same. He still took you places, still held your hand and hugged you and brushed your hair out of your face whenever he felt like it, but now he could let his fingers linger on your skin for longer, he could lean in and press a kiss wherever he wanted on your face, and, at the end of the day, he could take you home and fuck you dumb for as long as you’d let him.

There was only one thing, though, that seemed to be a problem… It was something he didn’t really want to acknowledge, but he knew would explode on his face at some point.

Minho was an animal.

Eventually, he’d go into rut, and knowing you, he was sure you’d want to help him go through it.

Minho had never spoken to you about his ruts, but he knew you’d learnt a great deal about it from the other girls at the den as well as Jisung. You’d never brought it up to him before, and he was sure it was because you simply knew he didn’t want to talk about it. 

Now that you were his girlfriend, it was only a matter of time before he’d have to face this problem head on. Because that was what this whole thing was to Minho… a problem. 

Even if during his rut all he could think about was you, he usually got violent. Very violent.

He’d punch walls and break numerous pieces of furniture and appliances, and having you there with him could put you at risk of getting caught in the cross-fire. If he ever hurt you, Minho would never, ever forgive himself. Especially when he just knew you would. You would make excuses for him, you’d enable him and his animal ways like you always did, and he just didn’t want to put you in that position.

Granted, he should’ve probably told you all this, and he had been hyping himself up to do it, but you had been faster than him. The night you finally asked him about his rut he had been severely unprepared to handle the situation.

Minho told you he wouldn’t spend his rut with you. He could’ve probably worded it better, but before he knew it the situation escalated and you were having an argument and he had unintentionally made you feel unwanted, which was just so far from reality…

He wanted to tell you just how much he wanted you, but before he could you’d put space between yourselves and left him there on his own. It was late at night when it happened, but he wasn’t necessarily worried for your safety when you left, because he just knew you’d either go to one of the girls’ flats or to Jisung’s.

Forty minutes after the whole ordeal, he received a text from Jisung confirming his suspicions. The younger wolf told him you were at his place and that he’d take care of you for the night, which Minho was immensely grateful for.

He spent the entire night tossing and turning, wondering how to best word his predicament so he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt you and make you feel unwanted again. Essentially, his reservations when it came to spending his rut with you had nothing to do with you, and all to do with him.

So, the next morning, he made his way to Jisung’s and waited patiently for you to wake up. Jisung had given him a rundown of what had happened the night before, without revealing too much of what you’d told him since he usually liked to keep your conversations as private as possible–just like he kept the conversations he had with Minho as private as possible whenever he spoke to you.

So, when you woke up, Minho immediately explained the situation. He confessed to you how he’d always wanted you, how he couldn’t stop thinking about you whenever he went into rut, and how he got incredibly violent during that time period, so violent he feared he would harm you in any way.

You understood, of course. You always did.

You apologised for jumping to conclusions, and for forcing him to talk about something when he was clearly not ready to do it, which he appreciated. He also apologised for not communicating properly, an apology that you also seemed to accept. At the end of the day, he understood why the whole thing happened in the first place, and he made a mental note to try and not keep things like these from you ever again. 

Funny thing, how the universe always seems to play with people like they were little pieces in a funky little game.

When Minho did go into rut, he was so out of it he completely forgot to let you or anyone else know. You had a tendency to drop by his place unannounced, which he didn’t mind, but that day, it was far from ideal, to say the least.

He was sweating, frustrated, in pain, and the second he heard the beeps of the front door’s lock and the smell of your scent hit him, he just lost it.

It was all a blur after that. He tried to hold back, to tell you to leave, but you didn’t. Of course you wouldn’t leave…

To his surprise, that violence that seemed to seep out of him whenever he went into rut wasn’t there. His thoughts were plagued with only you and your lavender scent and the need to pleasure you and to pump you full of his pups.

When he finally managed to do all that, he quickly realised that he’d only ever been violent because he couldn’t have you. In retrospect, he should’ve known. But he’d proven to be tone deaf enough to not understand what his needs were, and this clearly wasn’t an exception.

Nothing had felt quite as fulfilling as spending that rut with you. It was all he’d ever wanted and more. His almost endless supply of cum, his knot, his insatiable need to fuck and fuck and fuck… You’d taken it all like a champ, and even when he wasn’t that in tune with his inner wolf, he could still feel just how proud it was, how proud he was of you.

The word mate kept repeating over and over in his mind the entire time, and he supposed you were his mate, all things considered.

Forever was a big word, but Minho figured that, at least at that point in time, he couldn’t ever imagine his life with anyone else. Especially not now that you were finally sharing your feelings with each other after years and years of pining.

For all he knew, anything that could have potentially been a problem in his relationship with you had been addressed after that. Minho was happy, you were happy, and it all seemed to have taken its natural course.

Except for one maybe not so small thing…

Minho wanted you to move in with him. He’d honestly wanted it since before you got together. He missed you often, and he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

The distance during the week was starting to stress him out way more than he’d like to admit, and even if he’d been slowly making space in his flat for you, he knew he’d ask you sooner or later. He hadn’t brought the topic up after you got together because he knew your job was important to you, and moving in with him would probably mean you’d have to quit and find something else closer to where the den was.

He could offer to support you financially, but he just knew you wouldn’t have wanted that. The second you’d started working and being financially independent, you couldn’t imagine ever having to rely on someone else–that was what you had told him all those years ago, at least…

You moving in with him made so much sense, though. Some weekends, Minho would go over to your place, but you’d told him several times that you preferred his home over yours. You’d told him it was more lively, that you enjoyed the presence of the other pack members, and that the only thing you genuinely liked about your flat was that Sir Percival was in it.

Sir Percival was your elderly cat that you adopted when you were a child. He was one of the many cats Minho had rescued, and he was probably the reason you ever spoke to Minho in the first place. Back then, the day you met, you approached him only because he was trying to save Sir Percival’s entire litter that had been abandoned by the side of the road.

So, yes. You moving in with him to Chris’ den just made all the sense in the world to him. Especially at moments like these.

Whenever Minho got to lay on your bed like he was doing now, he could certainly understand why you felt that his flat was more homely. You hardly had any decor in your room, and the whole flat was in a similar state. You never particularly liked this place in the first place, but you stayed because it was close to work and rent was relatively cheap.

‘I’ll probably move out soon, so no need to go all in on the decoration’, you’d told Minho years ago when you moved in. You kept putting it off, and now here this place was, void of anything that would highlight your wonderful personality other than the cat toys littering the floor, and the cat tower in the corner of your living room.

Whenever Minho came over, Sir Percival always avoided coming to your room unless it was absolutely necessary. The cat had told Minho that if he ever walked in on them having sex again he’d purposefully ruin the mood by throwing up a hairball, so he preferred to stay in the living room, even if it meant he couldn’t sleep by your feet like he loved to do.

That was fair, Minho supposed. He didn’t feel comfortable having Sir Percival in the room when you were getting intimate, either, so he appreciated the privacy. 

Right now, though, since he had woken up in the middle of the night and hadn’t been able to fall asleep again, he was wondering if he should go out and bring Sir Percival to bed. Maybe his warmth and his purring could help him fall asleep again…

Unlike Minho, you were sleeping soundly next to him, with your back turned to him. If he stood up from this bed he might wake you up, and he didn’t want you to be in his situation… So he settled on focusing on your steady breathing while he waited for sleep to claim him again.

It was just as he was almost asleep again that a minute sound made his body jerk awake. 

It came from you. It was a whimper, barely even audible. But how could he not hear it with his enhanced senses? When you were so close?

It would’ve worried him, had the smell of your arousal not knocked the air straight out of his lungs.

Minho would’ve never imagined his sleepless night would’ve taken him to this intersection, but here he was. He realised he could do one of three things… One, he could ignore the fact that you were right there next to him, presumably having a wet dream… Two, he could wake you up to reenact whatever it was you were dreaming about… Or three, he could use this as an opportunity to indulge in something he hardly ever did…

Since he started a relationship with you, Minho and you had many opportunities to try new things. You were quite open to try any and every seemingly odd activity in the bedroom–be it anal, or role-play, or some light bondage, you were always down to try it. And when Minho brought up his little fantasy of touching you while you were asleep, you’d been more than ecstatic to try it out… To the point where he was sure if he hadn’t brought it up, you would’ve done so eventually.

There was something about the fact that you trusted him enough to let him do things to you while you were unconscious that excited him. Maybe it was a projection of all those nights back then that he’d spent trying not to fantasise about you when you slept together, or maybe it was simply the act itself that he inexplicably enjoyed… Regardless of what it was, your little whimpers had his mind clouding a bit.

Sometimes, before you fell asleep next to each other, you’d turn to him and tell him ‘Maybe I’ll wake up to a surprise tomorrow…’ with that lilt in your voice that just let him know exactly in which way you wanted him to wake you up. That had been the case last night, and Minho had considered doing it a bit later, when the sun was starting to rise at least. But he figured, since you were already having a bit of fun in your dreams, maybe a midnight treat wouldn’t hurt.

Scooting closer to you, his hand found your waist. He held you tight while he pressed his nose to your pulsepoint, right under your jaw. He could hear your blood flowing, your heart rate increasing, and the scent of your excitement had him almost salivating.

Dragging his hand from your waist to your hip, he carefully caressed your body over the fabric of your sleeping gown, just as he pressed his growing erection against your ass. A tiny moan escaped your mouth, but your steady heartbeat let him know you were still pretty much asleep.

Whatever it was you were dreaming about had you shuffling the tiniest bit, enough for your ass to rub against his crotch, and he could already feel a bit of wetness soiling the material of his sleeping shorts. His own fluids, to be precise. It was one of those things that shocked him after he turned, just how much fluid his body could produce. Be it saliva, or sweat, or cum… It was slightly inconvenient, but at the very least, you always seemed to enjoy it, so he supposed it wasn’t so bad.

Minho dragged his hand from where it’d been caressing your hip up your torso, stopping only when he was finally able to cup one of your breasts. He generously fondled and squeezed the flesh, not holding back one bit. If you woke up, you woke up, and if you didn’t, you didn’t. Simple as that.

Dragging the pad of one of his fingers over your stiffening nipple, he relished the way your heartbeat picked up, as well as the way you started to writhe a bit in his hold.

“You’re so soft, baby…” Minho couldn’t help but mumble against the skin of your neck, and you whined, almost like you were reacting to him. And maybe you were. He liked to believe that to be the case.

He pinched and twisted your nipple between his fingers, pressing kisses on your neck and grinding his now fully hardened length against your ass. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about, my kitten… Is it me? I hope it’s me…”

Minho was very quiet, but he hoped you could hear him even in your dreams. He figured you might’ve, considering how fast your heart was beating now.

He was genuinely planning on dragging this out for as long as possible, but when you mumbled something akin to his name, he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He removed his hand from your breast after one final hefty squeeze, only to bring that same hand between your bodies. His digits made contact with your entrance, and he couldn’t help but take in a deep breath at just how wet you were.

He wondered how much of it was your own arousal, and how much of it was his own cum that might’ve remained there from when you had sex last night before going to bed. He didn’t come inside often, but when he did, the thought of you having a part of him within your warmth did things to him, it tickled a secluded area of his brain, and it certainly excited him. He supposed it was instinctual. One of those wolf things he hardly ever paid attention to.

Delaying no further, he freed himself out of his sleeping shorts, just enough to drag the tip of his cock up and down your drenched folds. Minho almost got winded when he heard the moan that came out of your mouth in response to his motions. Your lavender scent wrapping around every single one of his nerve-endings enticed him, and he just couldn’t deny himself anymore.

He usually preferred to make sure you were well stretched enough to take him in, but considering you’d been stretched plenty last night, he figured you’d be just fine. And he was proven correct when he finally pushed himself fully within your warmth, when the wetness between yours legs let him slide in with ease.

Minho couldn’t help but groan at the feeling, just as a moan of your own escaped your mouth.

“You’re so warm, baby…”

He pulled his hips back, only to push them forward to start a slow, pleasant rhythm. His hold was tight on your hip, your heart sounded like it was close to leaping out of your chest, and the second your walls clenched on his length, he just knew you’d wake up soon… You’d wake up exactly to what you had wanted.

“Oh–oh, Minho…”

There was no mistaking it anymore, your barely audible moans had slightly increased in tone, and you’d started to push your hips back a bit.

Minho just hummed in response, dragging his hand from your hip to your lower belly. You placed your own hand on top of his, lacing your fingers together and sighing contently.

The kisses he left on your neck and the exposed skin of your shoulder seemed to spur you on, the movement of your hips increased in pace, and he just increased his in return. He was mumbling nonsense against your skin, tightening his hold on your interlocked fingers, getting completely lost in the feel of your tight warmth around him.

Before he knew it, you had turned your body a bit, and he had pushed your legs apart to get better access to your heat.

With an arm below you for his hand to hold yours, he took advantage of this position by using his other hand to pull one of your legs over his hip and for his fingers to find their rightful place between your legs.

You just kissed him. You kissed him like you’d die if you didn’t, mumbling words of appreciation of your own between each kiss, broken up by moans and sighs and whimpers with every thrust of his hips and every circle drawn on your clit.

“You’re so good to me”, you mumbled, tightening your hold on his hand, moaning so prettily he almost blew then and there.

“And you to me”, he replied simply, picking up his pace, relishing your scent and your warmth and just… you.

Time always seemed to slow down whenever you had sex, especially at these hours of the night, to the point where he could never tell how long it’d been since that first thrust. All Minho could register was how incredibly good he felt, how your heart was thumping fast in your chest, and how hard you were clamping around his cock.

The sounds you made whenever you came undone under his touch and his motions were like music to his ears, they spurred him on, borderline urged him to come himself. And there was certainly hardly anything he would’ve enjoyed more right now than to blow his load while you were still spasming around him, while all you could mumble was his name, while all he could mumble was yours.

Your chest rose and fell with your deep breaths, and while the after effects of his orgasm still clung to every single one of his senses, you pulled him in for a slow, tender kiss. Minho immediately melted, holding you tighter and still enjoying the comfort of your inner walls.

When you pulled back from the kiss, he brushed his nose against yours, making you smile and giggle, and you sounded incredibly sleepy even after all that had transpired just minutes ago. He pulled you into his arms, entangling his legs with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Everything was calm around you. The room was barely illuminated by the lampposts outside your windows, and Minho suddenly felt like humming a random song you’d been listening to earlier in the evening… So he did, all as he caressed your hair.

You nuzzled your face further into his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him tight. Right then, Minho figured that every choice he had ever made, that everything that had happened to him, had taken him to this moment, and if that were truly the case, then he honestly wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“Babe?” You mumbled, the sound slightly muffled against the fabric of his vest top.

“Hm?” Minho kept caressing your hair, your back, holding you close and keeping you there.

“I love you”.

He honestly couldn’t help but smile. Of course he knew you loved him. You’d shown him just how much countless times before. Not only throughout your relationship, but way before that… He’d honestly known since that time you hugged him when he had shapeshifted into a wolf the very first time.

“I love you, kitten, baby… So much”.

You pulled away from his chest and looked at him, with a blinding smile on your face. Granted, he could hardly see it in the dark room, but he saw enough. Enough to know just how much you cared. 

But alas, Minho was first and foremost your best friend, and even if he was melting on the inside with your confession, he just had to be annoying about it. “I can’t believe you beat me to say it first, though. I won’t ever forgive you”.

You gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to your mouth for emphasis. “Here I am? Baring my heart to you? And this is what I get? Fine, I won’t ever forgive you for never forgiving me”.

You were just about to turn away from him, he just knew. So he held you tighter, keeping you in place while he laughed. Your façade crumbled immediately, and you laughed with him, all while he kept pressing kisses on your cheeks.

“Guess I’ll just have to say it as much as possible to get the upper hand”, Minho mumbled against your cheek, just before he started leaving behind an ‘I love you’ after every kiss he pressed on your heated skin.

When your chuckles died down, and he was satisfied with the amount of times he had professed his love, silence enveloped you both once again. Minho simply laid on his back, hugging you close as you laid your head on his chest, right over his heart.

He wasn’t sure if it was the admittance of his feelings, or the hormonal rush of a good fuck, or your lavender scent that seemed to make him delirious sometimes, but, before he knew it, the words were coming out of his mouth with no way to stop them.

“Would you like to move in with me?”

No take-backsies now, he supposed.

You took in a deep breath, but remained silent for a moment.

It was just as Minho was about to panic that you finally spoke. “Do you think Chris would accept Sir Percival into the pack as well? I’m not leaving him behind”.

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. “He’ll have to. Otherwise I’ll threaten him until he does”.

It was all a bluff… mostly.

Minho would respect any decision Chris took, but if it came to it, he kind of knew that if he laid out why it was important to him to take in both you and Sir Percival, Chris would agree, so he wasn’t particularly worried. Sir Percival already respected Chris, from what Minho knew, so he was almost ninety percent sure it wouldn’t be a problem.

You took in another deep breath, pulling yourself away from Minho’s hug so you could straddle him instead. With your full weight on his body and your hands on his chest, you looked down at him, taking in his features.

“I guess I’ll need to start applying for jobs, then”, you just smiled brightly at him.

Minho held your waist, smiling at you in return right before he pulled you down for a kiss. With you and Sir Percival there at the den, his family would finally be complete, and he felt as if his heart was about to burst at the thought.

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General Masterlist Minho's WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

[moonrisecoeur]

apathy — leon kennedy

author’s note: this is so horribly self-indulgent self-centered self-serving, it might as well not even be x reader and literally just leon x moon i’m so sorry. this is angsty smutty nonsense for anyone who wanted more feelings and less horniness out of gratitude. i do not apologize for any comparisons of the reader being like the moon.

wc: 3.3k

content: switchy/sub!leon x switchy/dom!reader, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, afab reader, re4r leon, scratching and bruising, hickeys, masochist!leon agenda, reader’s got a lot of feelings, mention of edging and denial, mentions of food

warning: this is not dark content, but reader is lowkey toxic. please be aware that i don’t endorse treating your partner like this. mention of using a knife on him once.

notes:

“i will begin to despise you if i let you in.”

“and i will adore every moment of your resentment.”

“i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”

“it’s okay, i like you as you are.”

—

“i promise that you don’t want me,” you had said once. leon didn’t really know what to do with that statement. it was a promise, but you would have already broken it a million times over; that is how badly he wants you.

he knows what you really meant. it wasn’t some promise you had no way of keeping. it was a warning, a cautionary tale. wanting you would not be good for him, plain and simple. though, sometimes, plain and simple isn’t always as such. sometimes it’s much, much more complex than meets the eye.

he recalls the moment in his apartment as clear as day. you had said, “look. i want you. i very clearly do, this is not… me denying that fact. what i am trying to say is that you do not want me. i don’t care what you think you know. what you think you want. you don’t want to have me.”

he took a while to think about what you had said. it wasn’t a choice he had, to pick you or to pick freedom. it wasn’t one or the other. you didn’t let him pick you, because he would have, you knew it, he knew it. he would give you anything.

his biggest problem is he never knew why. you made yourself very clear, you wanted him, and this, you had him, but you refused to let him have you.

“you don’t want me,” you said, but he does.

you try to block him out, to avoid him, even as he tries and pushes you for answers, to know why, why you don’t let him have you, why you insist he can’t want you.

he keeps pushing, keeps chasing you. in a way, it’s nice. you like being chased, being wanted, desired. the only problem is that it’s leon. if it was anyone else, anyone less moral and perfect and everything the world needs desperately and does not deserve, then maybe you would be more okay with letting this all happen.

but leon doesn’t deserve how you’ll inevitably treat him, using your power over him to do whatever you please, using him for every last drop of pleasure he has to offer you, and then leaving him when you’re done. he would be the most delightful treat, but you abstain simply out of guilt from how perfect the man is.

you don’t know if you could ever forgive yourself for ruining leon, making him recover from the misery that would be your love.

—

“you know i’m not good for you,” you whisper to him, “i love you and love you and love you until you can’t breathe with how filled to the brim you are with my affection and adoration and then i leave you alone to… do whatever it is you do while i want to be alone,” you tell him, more like lecture him, as he stands there. he’s trying to get closer you and you won’t let him, both figuratively and literally. he tries to reach out for your hand but you pull back.

“i’ll leave you alone. you hate people who do that,” you murmur that last part, and leon notes to himself that someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t remember his propensity to dislike the people who have left him alone before.

“that’s… fine. i know you’re introverted and… you need alone time, i get it,” he tries to reason, even with his own insecurities, “i’ll be okay.”

“no, you don’t understand, i am terrible. i will crave you and ache for you and need you and still know i am not a torture that you deserve,” you’re glaring at him with an anger that isn’t real, it is more out of desperation, “if i can know i am awful, why can’t you?”

“call me ignorant if you want, i don’t care. i want the worst of you,” he says, reaching out again. you take a step back, but he takes two forward, and his presence is never one you’ve been known to resist, “let me have y—”

“i will hurt you!” you tell him, but you give in just slightly. you bring your hands to his waist, too gentle for your previous statement to make sense. he thinks you’re lying, anything to push him away. you’re too soft on him to be so cruel.

“you know i’m a masochist,” he still laughs. he holds you back as you reach out for him, your soft, teary eyes vaguely make out a smile from his pretty lips. what a terrible time to be joking, leon.

“that’s not funny, leon,” you whisper.

“never said it was,” he feels tears prickling at his eyes too. he wonders how you could be so cold and uncaring if you’re crying for him right now. he wonders if maybe, just maybe, you’re not selfish like you say you are. you’re just a girl who has only ever had to look out for herself.

“i will hate you,” you bite your lip, nervous. he’s winning, “i will do terrible things to you.”

“i will love you just as much to balance that out. and there is no crime you could commit against me that i would not forgive you for. not that you… would need or want my forgiveness.”

moments pass where your hands are digging in trenches into his skin, knowing you’ll never be able to let him go if this goes on any longer. he holds onto your hips, afraid you’ll leave if he lets go.

he aches to break the silence, but you won’t believe anything he says anyway. he’d tell you he saw the good in you, the girl who was nice and cared about others, and you would have the displeasure of telling him it’s all a facade.

“i will begin to despise you if i let you in, you realize that, right?”

“and i will adore every moment of your resentment,” he smiles softly, sadly, like it's all he wants. like he’d take the sweet fragments of you over any other full person. of course he would. they wouldn’t be you.

you dig your fingers into his skin, rough but not painful, aching to take him but still nervous that he doesn’t really know what he’s signing up for, “i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”

“it’s okay, i like you as you are,” he says, his voice as gentle as ever. leon has always been gentle, kind, soft. god you just want all of him to yourself. you are everything he is not, possessive and selfish and cruel, but he loves it. he wants the worst of you.

give me the devil as my lover and i’ll serve her forever, his heart calls.

you can’t help the urge to give in, to let him win, let yourself take what you want by letting him win. you can’t help tightening your grip on his waist, pulling him in for a full hug that he reciprocates, big arms wrapping around your shoulders like he could shield you from the world. even if you were the monster you say you are.

words fail him, but he’d give you anything. he’d let you do anything, take his breath, his soul, his sanity, his life.

you say you’re a monster? prove it.

—

you do just that.

he’s not saying you’re dramatic… but you’re not the evil monster you’re painting yourself out to be. you’re a little apathetic sometimes, but aren’t we all?

he gets why you think you’re some monster. you can be selfish. you’re a loner at heart, and that just doesn’t work out well with the whole ‘relationship’ thing. you’re possessive despite not giving him attention, no one else can either. you want him all to yourself even when you don’t want him at all. sometimes he wonders why, but he doesn’t question you. you’re not even possessive most of the time, if anything, you just want his attention.

you said you’re mean and cruel and you warned him that you wouldn’t change, but he just doesn’t believe it. you’re the ‘stop to help old ladies cross the street’ type of caring. you’re the ‘hand on his shoulder to get him out of someone else’s way’ type of caring. you’re the person who stays behind as everyone else walks ahead when someone’s tying their shoe. you care. you’re kind. you don’t see it.

you, and everyone else in this world, mistakes apathy for cruelty. it’s like, you don’t care about what people have to say? you must be the devil incarnate.

1. wrong. you not being interested in people around you isn’t something you can control. sometimes people are just boring.

2. he thinks the devil (you!) is hot.

and you feel too deeply, too ashamed about everything to be as apathetic towards the world as you think you are. leon looks at you and sees how you care. it’s different, but it’s not wrong. he knows you don’t care about the stories people tell you, you don’t remember pieces of their lives or their birthdays. you don’t care when they share those fragments of themselves, vulnerable and desperate for reassurance you’re not going to give them.

you don’t care. and you hate that you don’t care, but hating your apathy doesn’t make it go away. it doesn’t cancel out the cruelty you think you are. and that is the epitome of it all. you care so badly about how much you don’t really.

leon holds you close as you cling to him, arms wrapped around his torso as you curl your head into his chest as you lay on the bed, cold feet hanging off the edge of the mattress like the evil monster underneath would come to take you away. maybe it should, you muse. maybe then i could forgive myself for being so wrong.

and for stealing leon away from the world. someone so perfect. not actually perfection, because things are less likable when there’s nothing to critique about them. it is only when something is flawed in many ways that loving it so deeply is possible. it is easy to love something perfect. it is rewarding to love something imperfect and raw and human and real.

but in an ironic way, it is easy to love leon. he’s so loving and kind, you wonder why he’d ever want you because you’re very much not easy to love, but to leon? maybe you are.

so when his hands cradle your head against his chest, his body enveloping yours like a thick fog settling over you, you let him. and you wonder why he could love someone so wrong. to him, your flaws are a million times more prominent. and that means he could only love you deeper.

—

if you’re a bad friend, then you’re a worse lover. your body aches for his just like him for yours and you give him nothing and take everything. you take and take and take until he’s exhausted, but the worst (best?) part is leon only wants to give and give until you push his head away from you, until you force him to stop.

your body takes him like he’s the only drug you’ve ever craved, carving sweet nothings into his wrist and thighs and shoulders with your fingertip, though he’s sure you imagine doing so with a blade encompassing your hand. he shivers at the thought. maybe he wants it too.

you shatter him to pieces with every touch, picking up the broken pieces of the mess you’ve made of him. you keep them close, treasuring every kiss you place on his neck, every touch on his waist, the way his cock fills you up so perfectly.

he loves that you just take whatever you want from him. no warning, no concern for him. you know he wants to be used for your every desire, every need. he’s yours to drain of life like a vampire sucking the life out of its helpless victim.

you tell him what to do, order him around viciously, and he has no choice but to obey. what’s he going to do? try and tell you what to do? dominance has never been his forte, he’s too awkward, too shy. besides, if he even tried to tell you you’re a ‘good girl’ right now, you’d probably slap him.

to be fair, he’d probably like it, like the sting of your palm against his cheek, like the burning feeling afterwards, like the red mark on his face in the aftermath. he still won’t do it, for your sake. call that self-sacrifice.

you dig your nails into his skin, into his chest, his waist, his thighs, until small little crescent moons cover his entire body, leaving the mark of the moon that you were in his sky.

if he was the sun, you were the moon. he shines and shines and shines and you take his sunshine and keep it as your own. he lets you because it makes you brighter, happier, lighter, god you’ve seemed so much happier these days. ever since you gave in and let yourself be loved by him, he’s made your life nothing but brighter. doesn’t make you feel bad for your incredibly chronic case of general apathy, just makes it easier to not feel like a monster on the daily, which is appreciated. you worried so much about how cruel and selfish you would be to him and he’s been nothing but joyous since.

when you’re not pressing your nails into him, you’re gripping him so tightly that you just might bruise him. it’s alright if you do, he’s always liked it rough. his body is a clean canvas that’s yours to depict your destruction upon. by the end, he's heaving, skin red and irritated from scratching and bruised up all on his neck and thighs. your mouth is insatiable when it comes to his neck, the vampire comparison must have really been accurate.

he likes that you’re selfish, that making him orgasm was never your goal. sure, you’re not going to deny him, though maybe you would, now that he thinks about it. okay, try that again, you weren’t trying to deny him this time, but that doesn’t mean you cared if he did cum. if anything, you did it for your own selfish wants, getting to watch him fall apart so helplessly.

you took care of yourself, because that’s all you know how to do.

his heart still aches when he sees tears welling up in your pretty eyes, switching positions so he could hold you close as you ride him, his hands rubbing circles into your back, “i got you, pretty girl. just breathe.” and that’s it.

he knows if he keeps talking, you’ll get uncomfortable, and you’ll run away. like a wild animal that might get scared off at any moment, he treads cautiously and treats every moment of you in his arms with the utmost value. you come undone just a few moments after him, and you ride out your orgasm even as he bites back whimpers of pain. he’s sensitive and tense, sure, but you’re still grinding down on him, using him for every last drop of pleasure, and he’s not in any position to stop you.

you collapse onto him, as if fully giving in to that feeling that says to trust him. to hold him close. to love him endlessly for putting up with your constant bullshit.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers as you lay together on the bed, his fingertips brushing through your hair. he’s painfully gently, so much more so than you are with him. (you’d feel bad if he wasn’t moaning so loudly every time you hurt him.)

you hum, hand rubbing his side, up and down motions following the curve of his torso, enjoying the way he groans in discomfort, “i warned you that i was mean,” you say, enjoying the way he laughs.

he’s so bright and lively with you, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve brought out something in him that was hidden away too. more youthful, free of the problems bestowed upon him by the events of his early 20s. he’s even more beautiful than you are to him. not that he’d ever think that’s possible.

“i know, i know…” he mumbles, his hand placed on the back of your head as he pulls you in for a soft kiss, his other hand on your cheek, thumb brushing against it almost as if to wipe away tears. luckily, you were past that. you had cried enough.

you warned him that you were mean, cruel, apathetic, distant, etc, and maybe you were. or maybe you would become those things. maybe this is the high high before the low low you had talked about once. the moments where you’re perfect and loving and amazing right before your descent into resentment and cruelty.

but for now? all leon knows is you’re a helluva lover and he can't imagine a better way to sleep than in a lover’s arms. he falls asleep before you do, sleeping like a baby before you doze off.

you stay awake a little bit longer, still plagued with the thoughts of what the hell you did to deserve this man. you come to the conclusion that sometimes bad things happen to good people.

and sometimes? good things happen to bad people. leon’s love was the best thing you could ever obtain, and you refuse to let it go.

—

the next morning, he kisses your cheek as he serves you breakfast, and talks about something you don’t care about. he’s sure you’re not listening, but he doesn’t mind. he’s more just thinking out loud to himself.

you stare at the plate as you eat, off in your own world. he just waits until he can be a part of your world again, watching you intently. he likes looking at you, even like this. you’re far too beautiful for his soul to handle.

you look over at him as you notice him staring, “hm?” you groan, making a small sound to acknowledge and question his gaze.

he just shakes his head, “just like looking at you, pretty,” he smiles, and you roll your eyes. you can’t help the adoration that fills your bones at the sight of him. he’s perfect. everything to you. even if you can’t always show it, or even if it doesn’t always feel that way.

you told him you wouldn’t change for him. and he never wanted you to. there was nothing to change, you were already perfect to him. he can’t help but keep his eyes on you the whole morning before he has to leave for work.

as he does, even though it’s with a heavy heart because you look so sad that he has to go and he never wants to make you sad, he gives you his goodbye kiss. your hand finds the back of his neck and your thumb pressed on a newly tender bruise on the side of it. he winces at the touch, and you smirk. he’ll never forget how fatal you are, even in your… softer moments.

[pearlfeline]

in denial

pairing: draco malfoy x reader (supposed to be gender neutral pls lmk if there’s something i missed lol)

word count: 1,079 words

summary: speculations of draco being a death eater are something you deny without a second thought. nothing convinced you until he tells you himself.

warnings: minor violence??? nothing crazy idk if it counts as violence

a/n: severely ran out of ideas and idk what this is i made it out of frustration. WOOOOOO!!!!

Condensation trickled down the outside of your cup. You eyed it until it went all the way down, seeping into the wooden table.

“Cold butterbeer..” Hermione said with a small grin, sitting across from you. “Quite the choice, considering how it’s been practically freezing these past few days.”

“I like to chew on the blended ice.” You shrugged, smiling to yourself at how much Hermione considers your condition.

Hermione eyes you for a moment, pursing her lips almost as if she was holding back a question. If her thinking face was any more expressive, you could call yourself a mind reader.

“What is it now?” You didn’t mean to, but you couldn’t help but to huff out an exasperated sigh.

Hermione immediately shakes her head.

“I could be asking you that very question!”

“Where’s your mind at, Y/N?”

You look out the windows of The Three Broomsticks, hoping to catch a glimpse of Draco walking by, perhaps him even staring back at you. But he wouldn’t. Not this year. This was the year he dropped his prefect duties, was no longer right behind Hermione in his marks, and he stopped boasting about nonsensical things.

“You won’t like the answer… I’m sure of it.” You mumbled, taking a big swig from your glass.

“I didn’t ask because I wanted to hear something I like.” Hermione sighed.

Hermione knew if you were to hold back now, you would never reveal it later. There weren’t many times where Hermione and you get a lot of time without Harry and Ron. It’s either you tell Hermione or tell nobody.

“I think something’s wrong… with Draco.”

Hermione stiffened slightly, not entirely sure if she should remind you that he didn’t need your concern, or just listen to you to elaborate. “Well..?”

“All these years of teasing and torment… Just for it to end now.. I just don’t understand. He just looks so bleak.”

“I do agree with your last point, but I’m not sure if it’s anything to confront him about.” Hermione looks around before lowering her voice.

“On the train to Hogwarts, Harry was convinced Draco has become… a Death Eater.” She looks up with apologetic eyes.

“That’s nonsense.” You immediately reply.

“I said the same thing Y/N. But on the off chance that he is.. you know, you shouldn’t go following him anymore. For everyone’s safety.”

You could only feel something sink in what felt like an infinite pit in your chest.

“I know you’re friends… but just consider everything he’s done to everyone… to us..” Hermione takes your silence as a partial agreement. “If he’s not a Death Eater, he’s just cruel.”

Hermione’s words stuck to you all evening. Maybe his silence was a blessing in disguise. There was no more bullying and his friends weren’t being ordered around for the first time in nearly a decade.

Even if you were completely convinced, you had a feeling that one glance at Draco would make you go after him.

Its been a little while after your conversation with Hermione and you’ve been skipping all meals in the Great Hall. You’ve asking people to bring food back to the dorm so you could have “uninterrupted study time”. You knew if you saw Draco in the Great Hall you would disobey Hermione.

You couldn’t hide for all eternity however, so you waited until dark to use the bathroom.

No one occupied the hallway. At least in front of you.

“It’s after curfew.” Draco’s voice sounded as if he hadn’t drank any water for a week.

You quickly turn around. He looked horrible. It might’ve been the first time you’ve ever seen him sweat.

“You’re not a prefect anymore are you?” You quipped.

“Obviously.” He turns around, sauntering away.

You inhale sharply, picking up the pace to catch up with him.

Draco doesn’t acknowledge you behind him.

“Where are you going this late? The dorms are the other way”

Draco, after hearing you, reroutes himself. He heads for the doors, all without sparing you a glance.

Your cheeks grew hot with anger.

You follow after him far enough away for him not to notice. Both of you were weaving through the hallways like snakes digging through sand. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his destination. You could’ve audibly scoffed at where he chose to hide.

He leans over the railing with a permanent wince plastered over his face. It was so intense you could probably see from the back of his head.

“Really?” You angrily stomp up the steps.

Draco jumps at your voice, almost folding in half from the disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He growled. “Get out of here NOW!”

“Shut up!” You interrupt. Draco’s eyebrows raise, attempting to hide the surprise on his face. He quickly regains his posture, as if he expected that.

“You don’t get to decide to be nice to me, then go back to being a little shit!”

“Why do I have to be the fool for advocating for you when you go around acting like a twat?!” You swing the small bag you had brought with you with your toothbrush and other toiletries.

Draco grabs your arm. “Shut up!” He said in a way that was almost a hiss of a wild animal. He angrily lets go of your arm. “Stop bothering me NOW. I know you don’t care about me being mean to you. You kept following me all these years because you’re just- you treat everyone this way.. but I’m going down a path you can’t follow.” His voice quivers. “If you keep showing up like this you’ll die. Leave me alone before you mess everything up. You’re not going to help no matter what, like you think you can. So just go back to bed and pretend you never saw me. GO.” He shoves you once and when he sees you don’t budge, he pushes you harder until you fall.

He flinches but quickly composes himself and turns around.

You, left to your own devices, slowly get up and pat down your pajamas. He is a Death Eater. They were right. He was just too much of a coward to even properly say it. Yet you were completely convinced of the opposite.

“I hate you.” You spat out before you ran off.

Draco only looks at his wrist watch, biting down on his trembling lip, fighting every urge to ask you for help, for you to make it all better.

[gatitties]

Mute: O4. Ice-cream

O1. Flowers / O2. Friends! / O3. Study / O4. Ice-cream / O5. Sick / O6. Locked up / O7. Fight / O8. Friends? / O9. Grateful / 1O. Wishes

I'm sorry I didn't update last Friday! but I wasn't even at home 😅 @chiyoso

The rest of the morning passed slowly with the suffocating heat provided by the sun, your cheeks were somewhat red and your neck was sweaty, the short white shirt was beginning to stick to your body causing a feeling of discomfort. When the doorbell rang you literally ran to your bedroom, just by closing the door and windows you undressed to go directly to the shower, enjoying the refreshing sensation you stayed there for a few minutes until you remembered that it was your turn to water the plants.

When you did your errands you stopped by the gym, just thinking that the boys would be training despite the horrible heat made you feel pretty bad for them, you stuck your head out the door looking at how they all dripped with sweat.

«Ew, disgusting»

Your face contracted at the scene, you looked at them one last time to go to the convenience store near there, it took you a while to get there because you were entertained by petting a little cat. You went to the ice cream section to take a look, surely the boys would like something refreshing, to your bad luck they apparently had bought a lot of ice cream that day  because there were only a couple of chocolate tubs left, you still bought them. You also grabbed a couple of cool energy drinks knowing Ushijima wouldn't take ice cream and Goshiki probably wants to do everything the big ace does to be like him.

It didn't take long for you to return, all the feeling of a good shower was gone just by walking a few streets without a shady place, you also feared for the lives of those ice creams so you hurried up to arrive just as the boys were leaving the gym, you raised a hand so they could see you.

"What are you doing outside in this heat? it can affect you"

You narrowed your eyes at Semi, you really start to believe that he was a mother.

"Hey, hey, what do you have there?"

Tendou hunched down to the level of the bag you were holding, his eyes seeming to sparkle at the groceries. He tried to hug you but you dodged him seeing how he was drenched in sweat.

«No uh, take a shower first»

"But-"

You shook your head, causing his expression to fall but instantly his face lit up to run away, probably to shower.

"Did you buy ice cream for us?" you nodded answering Goshiki "That's great!"

You smiled at the boy, then everyone went to take their respective shower to freshen up. Some time later you found yourself sitting on Tendou's bed while everyone ate their ice cream leisurely.

"Thanks for the drink."

You nodded to the team captain, glad you could help out when you could.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

Shirabu raised an eyebrow watching as everyone had something to eat except for you. You shook your hands in denial, you really didn't feel like it that much.

"You can have some of mine!"

Tendou threw himself onto the bed lying down, his head resting on your lap as he extended a spoon to your mouth, not seeing exactly where he was pointing it stained your cheek a bit, then he looked up narrowing his eyes.

“Open your mouth, say ahh."

You rolled your eyes.

«How am I going to say 'ahh'?»

"Come on, just open your mouth, you understand me."

He whimpered pouting as he moved the spoon from side to side, you opened your mouth without choice because the ice cream was melting and you didn't want to dirty the room. You blushed when you heard Semi and Shirabu's laugh, who commented on the scene as if it had been something incredibly romantic, Ushijima frowned not understanding and Goshiki also blushed when he saw the interaction thinking about the words; indirect kiss, someone was watching too many romance novels.

You covered your face, which was now burning, kicking the redhead a little to get him off of you. He was silent watching you while you tried to cover yourself, he could only think that you looked extremely cute with your face dyed pink.

"You have chocolate there."

Wakatoshi pointed to your cheek.

"I clean!"

You felt something wet brush your cheek then you definitely blew a fuse.

"Tendou, you're going to kill her!"

Semi scolded him.

"Is she alright?!"

"No, she's going to die, Goshiki."

The setter hit the boy's head to stop him from screaming while Tendou was being scolded by Semi and you were trying to get swallowed up by the ground.

[aughtpunk]

So in the comments of "Primum Non Nocere" someone asked what would have happened if Shaun didn't get sick. I answered briefly, but I really felt like getting lost in the weeds of this idea for a bit. Because there's just so many possibilities, you know?

To start, Shaun would have ran. Shaun had been running his entire life. He doesn't know how to do anything else when faced with such potential danger. Shaun would run, leaving the safety of the Grand Temple and everyone within behind. It's from there our possibilities begin to branch off.

It's possible that, with time, Shaun would calm down and reflect on what he learned and the life of his twin. Maybe it would take weeks, months, years, decades, but with time and distance he could begin to understand what Jacob had gone through. Perhaps as more and more lambs come back to life and return to the world Shaun would slowly believe that--despite their evil actions in the past that--Jacob is now fighting for a peaceful, better future. Perhaps then Shaun would return to the Grand Temple. Older, yes, but more mature and understanding and willing to rebuild his relationship with Jacob.

or maybe

Or maybe Shaun never returns to the Grand Temple. He instead spends his life in hiding, too scared to return to the only family he's ever really known. Maybe he starts a family of his own. Maybe he spends his years alone. When he eventually passes he's not too shocked to find himself alive again in front of Jacob and Narinder. Would he run again? Or would the weight of a life alone make him more eager to forgive?

or maybe

Or maybe once he's alone Shaun would find it so easy, so painfully easy, to convince himself that the God of Death isn't his twin. That Jacob died kneeling in front of the Bishops over two hundred years ago. This thing, this monster known as the God of Death is not Jacob. Maybe it's just the Red Crown using his body as a puppet. Maybe it's a demon, or some other sort of monster that had taken Jacob's form. Because there's no way Jacob, his Jacob, would ever do those horrible things. No, this must be something else. It must be. Whatever it was it had to be stopped or Jacob's soul would never be able to rest.

Shaun couldn't do it alone. But The God of Death and their followers have plenty of enemies. How easy it would be to join those ranks. To rise up thanks to his knowledge of The Lamb's weaknesses and fears. Shaun wouldn't think twice about leading these troops into battle. He would show no mercy to those within the Grand Temple, nor would he hesitate to take on the thing that wore Jacob's flesh himself.

Shaun would lose, of course. Dead before he even knew what happened. Jacob wouldn't want to do it but they'd have no choice. It was the only way to end this. The only way.

And Jacob would bring him back, of course. Apologizing the whole time. Begging their twin to hear them out, to listen, to stop this senseless violence.

Shaun would run again. He'd come back more powerful. He'd fight Jacob. He'd die. Jacob would bring him back. He'd run again. An endless cycle fueled by rage and denial.

or maybe

Years pass. Decades. Centuries. Jacob still hasn't felt Shaun's second death after all of this time. But they're not shocked at all.

Because, you see, on the night Shaun left someone also stole the translated text about how to create a crown.

There are rumors of a new cult in the air. This one lead by a God of Justice. A lamb.

Jacob could easily crush the new cult, but they don't. They can't. All they can do is wait until the day The God of Justice decides to make Jacob pay for all of their past sins. Even if it meant killing The God of Death themselves.

And frankly? Jacob may let him.

***

In all of these possibilities, these strange and twisted branches, Kallamar will sometimes look and his old chess set and feel an odd lump in his throat. It made no sense, really. He'd only known The Lamb's twin for a few short days. Yet there was still a part that missed him. He'd then go back to whatever he was doing before and forget all about it.

Still. It was a shame he never got that rematch.

[rose-riot-johnson]

Hi my Tumblr Peeps😃 I have been thinking about this for a while and I decided to write a fanfic pertaining a certain character from The Seven Deadly Sins... So, I figured why not try writing a fanfic about Ban, as the staring character🤔💡😃👍 It's honestly not because of a fanfic or 2 of the fanfics pertaining Ban I have rebloged, though I am really inspired to actually write a fanfic about him, when I did (or when I am), however the real reason for writing about him is actually because I'm seeing why people like Ban and The Seven Deadly Sins anime😁👍

*This fanfic contains 1 or more long paragraphs😅

🍓I Loved You, Eversince The First Time I Had Ever Laid Eyes On You🍓(Ban x Female Reader)

Genres: Angst, Comfort, Smut (And sex), and Possible Mutual Confession (Warning +18⚠️: Alcohol Use, Language, Sexual comments, Nudity, mentions of virginity loss, praise kink, and sexual contact (including oral sex (both recieving), ass grabbing, nipple pulling, and vaginal penitration))

When Ban first met you, you were one of the customers of the Boar Hat tavern. He did have a crush on you, however you had a boyfriend, so ofcourse he's not going to overstep your relationship with (character or boyfriend or random name of reader's choice). While your boyfriend at the time seemed nice, considering that he always goes with you, whenever you go there, however Ban couldn't help that something felt off about the boyfriend you were with.

One night when the other sins including, Meliodas went to rest, Ban was the only one who stayed up and filled in for Meliodas, to see, if Boar Hat will have any customers for that night. The next thing that happened was that you showed up, as he assumes you're one of the customers, however the boyfriend you were with never came with you, which made Ban wonder why he didn't come with you, as he always did. Ban was confused as he then said, "I'm surprised you came without this boyfriend of yours. Did something happen for him to be unable to come or do you prefer not to talk about it?".

As Ban decided to let you have, as much as (creamy alcoholic beverage of reader's choice), you feel you needed to have for free, since you come here alot and you asked him for that particular alcoholic beverage you always ordered at Boar Hat, you answered, "Well Ban, between you and me... (character or boyfriend or random name of reader's choice) has been accusing me of cheating on him... You have to believe me when I tell you this... I never cheated on him once... He had always been jealous, I guess... This is why he was going everywhere I went... I did repressed and was deep down in denial that I had a crush on youand despite this, I have never flirted with anyone, especially you, Ban... Unfortunately he caught onthat I've been blushing everytime he mentions about you, even tough he complains that you're in the Boar Hat tavern everytime he and I come there and he just instantly accuses me of cheating on him for you... He thinks having a crush on someone and cheating are the exact same thing... I mean I barely looked at anyone else except him, so I know that I didn't even flirt with anyone else and he still accuses me of the cheating I never committed... It's also unfortunate that earlier this morning, I woke up and I was looking for him, then I found a note saying that I should find another place to live and other horrible stuff he wrote, especially wanting to break up with me, hinting that he wants me to leave the place he and I were living in together and never comeback or else...", as you were trying to hold your emotions in, while drinking your favorite creamy alcoholic beverage. Ban then asked, "Did you take the note with you, if you don't mind me asking, (Female Reader Name)?". You nodded your head, yes before handing the note to him.

While Ban was reading the break up note (character or boyfriend or random name of reader's choice) wrote to you, he has noticed that you were right when you told him that (character or boyfriend or random name), who is now your ex has written horrible stuff and it was much worser than he thought. Ban began to notice that your now ex boyfriend wrote was not only written out of jealousy, however it was also written out of dissing you, especially calling you nasty names in the note and Ban also notices that your now ex has written on how you will never find anyone better than him and he will find someone much better than you even in bed. This has really not only shocked Ban badly, however he felt sad for you, while pissed off for what (character or boyfriend or random name) has written in the note about you.

Ban then decided to invite you to camp out with him in a forest for the rest of the night, since he notices that you're trying to hide the fact your self confidence has been hurt, which you accepted his invite, so he decided to close up Boar Hat for the rest of the night, so he help you with your confidence that your now ex had tooken from you possibly the whole time you were with him (and the break up note made your confidence even worse). Once the both of you picked out a spot in a forest to camp in, he asked, "Why did this guy wrote in the note that you will never find anyone better than him and why the fuck did he write that he will find someone in bed better than you? Don't you think that there's something wrong with him and not you?".

You had to think for a minute about Ban's questions before answering, "I think it's because maybe it's true, considering, everyone I have dated has left me due to me being myself, so I thought trying to change for my now ex would help the relationship I did have with him, however nothing can or ever will change the fact that I'm unlovable... I thought forcing myself to have it with him would make him happier... It's just that I unfortunately had horrible luck at love... I guess whatever he says is true...". Ban was shocked to hear your answer, as he then replied, "I see... Your self-confidence is worse than I thought... Regardless if he was aware of your abandonment issues or not, he is basically a scumbag for everything he has been doing to you... I get you cared for him and all, however I just knew something was off about him, since the first time meeting you and he's wrong for every horrible thing he did and said to you... You're also wrong on something... You're not unlovable... If you don't believe me, I can prove it to you... Forcing yourself to do anything you don't want, especially sexual, is not going to help your well-being... I'm telling you this, because I loved you, eversince the first time I had ever laid eyes on you... I just never said anything earlier, considering I have respect for the relationship you had with him and I definitely have respect for you... Tonight is the night of me giving you any form of intimacy you want... It doesn't have to be sexual, if you don't want... It can be cuddling and other forms of intimacy... However if you want to go sexual then I can do that, only IF you want to...", before he took off his jacket, becoming shirtless. "Well, Ban... I wish I did lose my virginity to you, instead my now ex, honestly... You definitely have alot of respect for me and stuff... You may have a point... I get I maybe rushing things with you, however you are always kind to me, which I always appreciate it...", you replied back before taking your clothes off.

After you took your clothes completely off, Ban blushed and smiled, trying to hide his smile, as he said, "Are you one hundred percent sure you want to have sex with me? I just wanted to makesure before we do this, because you did mention forcing yourself with your now ex when you were with him and as much as I like to have sex with you, I don't want you to force yourself just because of me...". You answered, "I'm sure, Ban... I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't sure... I honestly felt ready... It's just I only have been ready for you...". Once Ban took the hint that you're certain about it, he letted you pull his pants down, as you began to notice his bare hard cock.

The next thing that happened was Ban laid down for you to get on top of him and suck on his cock. Meanwhile he was holding your ass right before eating out your pussy. He knew he would get his enjoyment out of getting his cock sucked on by you and eating your pussy, however he was really surprised to be spoiled and spoiling you, especially like this. After he got done eating your pussy Ban whisperered to you in groans and praised, "I definitely don't know what your ex sees in writing negative stuff about you in the note he wrote for you... You're doing amazing job with sucking on my cock and eating your pussy makes me feel like I'm in heaven... Your ex seriously doesn't know what he's talking about...". Once you got done sucking on his dick, he continued, "If you want, I'm willing to let you ride on this hard cock of mine, that you did an amazing job sucking on, my princess...".

You knew you wanted to try riding on Ban's cock, despite of what your now ex has written about you in the note he has written for you. When you finally start riding on Ban's hard cock, your pussy also began to tighten around his cock. The both of you groaned from the feeling of his cock inside of your pussy. As he was moving his hands from your assto your sides, then your tits, he looked into your eyes, trying to hold his moans (like you're trying to hold your moans), as he cooed and praised, "You're doing amazing riding on my dick, (Female Reader Name)... Your pussy is definitely taking my cock well... Your whole body is nice, just like you in general...". The both of you gave eachother sloppy kisses (trying to quiet down eachother's moans), while he was pulling on your nipples, as you continue to ride on his cock.

After you cummed around Ban's cock and he emptied himself inside of your pussy, you began to lay on top of him and luckily for the both of you, he brought a blanket with him, which that same blanket he brought with him, he had that blanket laying next to both you and him, so he would be able to cover both you and himself up with that blanket. Once he wraps both of his arms around you, he whispered, "We both know I enjoyed what we were doing together... However, did you enjoyed everything we were doing together, my sweet angel?". You smiled at him and replied, "Ofcourse I did, Ban... It's just I also enjoyed your company, honestly...". Ban then smiled at you back, as he replied back, "I enjoy your company too, my strawberry cupcake...", proceeded to hold you tighter before the both of you fell asleep, while snuggling for the rest of the night. After that night the both of you had an official relationship together, since then...

🍓The End🍓

I hope you enjoyed this fanfic my Tumblr Peeps😁👍Anyways my Tumblr Peeps... I did plan on writing a smut fanfic for Ban with writing this fanfic, however I decided to take this Ban smut I have written in a (somewhat if not a completely) different approach, so if there are any errors in grammar or anything else in the fanfic or other parts of this post this fanfic is in, it's more of figuring out ways to write this particular fanfic about Ban😅 I honestly have been secretly keen on him for a while, however recently in my personal life, me being keen on him was no longer a secret, and I haven't talked about my husby as often as I used to in my posts on Tumblr, however he was the 1st person to catch on that I was trying repress the fact I was keen on him, which my husby found cute that Ban is 1 of the characters I'm a fan of, needless to say😅😃👍I just really wanted to give writing a fanfic about Ban, a try😃👍Anyways my Tumblr Peeps, I hope this fanfic makes your day and/or night🌞☀️🌝🌕

[emotionaldepravity]

Your yandere Obito had my heart thumping and my face completely red from embarrassment. (I may or may not have been smiling the whole time reading it, huehuehue.) May I please request more yandere Obito[from Naruto.] once again? Anything, even a sliver of Obito to get me through my day? NSFW, or not, either is completely fine. Thank you, so, so much, you wonderful skeleton covered in flesh. :3

YES I CAN HELP! I'm actually going to be a bit wacky... this builds off the stuff from last time mostly the "feeding his delusion" route for the nsfw stuff. Link here to part 1/context! I'm so excited that I get to write more for this!

-Maybe he was just being stubborn, but Obito was denying how he really felt. So many thoughts ran through his head as he did his best to play his role as Madara.

-Yet no matter how much Zetsu urged him, he just kept going back to your apartment. He had lost count how many "keepsakes" he had "borrowed" from your home. If he wasn't careful, he might end up taking everything. You might move to a less convenient location or not sleep so soundly and sweetly when he made his nightly visit. It was growing more difficult to keep himself from you.

-Why should he? No, why should he deny you of him? There was plenty of time before the Eye of the Moon plan was finalized. The board was running slow, but as long as the pieces kept moving in order, he could spend a little time with you. Not realizing he had to capture the tailed beasts in order showed him how impatient he really was.

-His conflicted heart made his path blurry. It was extremely risky to see you, and the moment he was set on the Uchiha clan's downfall, he knew that he was going to have to make his choice. To take you with him the night before he was set to meet with Itachi or cut himself off from you completely.

-That would have either been the last night you noticed you "lost" random things or the night he revealed himself to you. He never regrets the choice he makes even if it leads to unhappiness. He might long to see your face as he rereads your diary, but he knows you only have to suffer his death not suffer the man he is now. On the other hand, he might see how miserable you are at his side, but he strongly believes you'd be even worse off without knowing that he is alive.

-Living as a member of the Akatsuki, willingly or not, forces you to lie at every turn. You have to feign knowing that Tobi is anything but a silly rookie. Unfortunately, he doesn't let you ignore him either. He pairs you up with himself and has you run missions with him.

-If you enjoy playing with him as Tobi, he gets even deeper into his role for you when alone. Though, he knows its a mockery of him as a child in some ways, he'd happily be that idiot for you as long as you keep smiling for him.

-Just the sight of you keeps him from being lost as the ten tails tries to rip his mind apart. He has a goal he must fulfill for you, sorry I mean you, sorry I mean you, sorry I mean Rin. The lies swim in his head, but he knows he just wants you to be with a version of him that isn't so horrible.

NSFW Warning/ Dub-con Warning

-If he wasn't so deep in denial, he'd actually realize that all his dirty fantasies involved you. He can't think of Rin in such a way so his body desires you, craves you. It might be under layers and layers of "this is what you want to do with him."

-The first time Obito masturbated with your panties wrapped around his cock, he rubbed it raw. He didn't really know what he was doing, but the thought that under different circumstances you could catch him like this, drove him wild. He gets caught up in the loop of using something so intimate to you for his own pleasure that he wouldn't realize that he is ruining the material or hurting himself. The pain makes his cock twitch just as much as the soft material around his sensitive skin does. It makes him drool a bit at the thought of you masturbating to him like this.

-If you end up on the path where you are on his side and feeding into his delusion that its actually you who is obsessed with him, he will eventually succumb to his lust. Without pretense and once you were alone with him in the Kamui dimension, he'd toss his mask away and kiss you without restraint. He'd bring you close to him letting you feel just how hard he is knowing what he planned to do.

"I know I'm spoiling you for the other me, but I don't think you'll mind that much. You've wanted me for so long after all. Let me reward you for your loyalty."

-If he strips you down and you are wet at all, he is going to feel so validated in his actions and so very attractive. Even this version of him that he considered worthless is enough for you to want him. To him that's equally beautiful and tragic.

-This would have been his first time with anyone so he is extremely inexperienced. He'd probably come the instant he was inside you, but he would be very much ready to keep going.

-You being a virgin as well would drive him insane.

"You saved yourself for me? Oh [Y/N], I shouldn't have made you wait so long!"

-He is very vocal switching between growls and whines as he ruts into you. His position preference would be for you be looking up at him. Nothing else really matters to him as long as his dick is inside you. In a different situation he'd have you on all fours and unable to see his scarred face, but you love him right? It would be too cruel for him not to see you looking into his eye with an expression of pure pleasure and too cruel for you not to get to enjoy "the man you love" as he is intimate with you.

-By virtue of being a virgin or a miracle, if you somehow come around his cock, he will take it as permission to take you like this again. Its addicting for him to make you shudder and call his name out like that. Who would have thought being your savior would feel so good for him?

-Depending on how bad his performance was for you, he would be willing to learn how to please you better. Over time he will improve as he explores your body more, but he would only ask how to do better on the chance you complain. He might be a bit embarrassed, but what can he say, he knows he isn't the version you'll be with for the rest of eternity.

-He'd be overly regretful over his actions if he ever saw you cry after sex. It almost hurts him as much as it hurts you. He is just doing what he thinks you want. He is trying to make it easier for you to be around him and easier for him to keep himself in his delusion.

-While he starts off very vanilla, he finds out he has a praise kink and a roleplay kink. He likes to hear you tell him his handsome. Though he'd probably refute the

He wants to hear you say the things that he believes you are thinking. Craving that validation of his delusion, he might have you recite certain entries from your diary while he eats you out. Yes, he figured out where your clit is. It just took him a second.

-Whether its Hokage-personal anbu guard roleplay or him fulling putting himself in the Tobi or Madara roles, he really enjoys imagining that the man he is now isn't the one fucking you senseless in the Kamui dimension. It helps him feel a little less guilty for enjoying himself in a way that's not possible in the Infinite Tsukiyomi. If he is willing to be a little less selfish he might even ask you what sort of scenario you'd enjoy.

-Cumming on your face is where he likes to finish the most. It feels so wrong to see you, a proud shinobi, covered in his fluids, and oh so arousing. He often burns the image into his brain by turning on his sharingan. If he is feeling particularly cruel, he might work on learning genjutsu just so he can make you see yourself.

[starboykel]

Pretty tears... 💧 Pt.2

Vladimir Makarov's daughter! Reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

!!warnings: mostly fluff but a bit of angst, reader is russian or partly-russian, reader is 21 years old, emotional Gaz, mentions of near death, starving, hyperventilating

English isn't my first language! I apologize for any gramatical mistakes

part 1

It has been days, even weeks since the last time you saw Gaz, you and him just talking through the old phone he gave you but he was a busy soldier, he practically never had time to talk to you.

The prison food was terrible, nothing that compared to the amazing meals you used to eat back in Russia. Your everyday food was bad cooked rice, bad scrambled eggs and undercooked meat and it was in a small proportion so most of the days you would sleep hungry...

It was a random Tuesday, you were sleeping when you felt the mattress sinking and someone sitting on it. You woke up slowly and you sees Gaz in your bed, looking at you, he looked destroyed, his hair messy and a new scar on his cheek, he had just returned from a mission.

He realizes he woke you up and looks away. "I'm sorry for waking you up, it's just...i missed you." He whispers the last part. You sit on the mattress and yawns, rubbing your eye.

You look at Gaz for a few seconds before he looked back at you. "I bought you something." He smiles a bit, he grabs a chocolate bar from his pocket and gives it to you.

Chocolate? Finally something that wasn't food that looks like it was made by someone that hates eating. You eagerly takes the chocolate and starts eating it immediately, you were starving afterall.

He smiles a bit more seeing you eat so eager and then he looks back at the ground, his smiles fades and he seems like he is in deep thought. "Y/N...what are we?" He asks, not looking directly at you.

You stops eating and looks at Gaz. "What do you mean?" You frowns slightly and he looks at you. "I love you." He confesses, looking at you lovingly. "I almost died in my mission and everything i was thinking about when i was on the floor, bleeding and almost dying was you." He continues, he looks like he was about to cry.

A silence reigns in the room for a few minutes before he sighs. "I'm sorry, i got emotional, it's alright if you don't like me back-" you interrupt him "I love you too Kyle but-" he interrupt you "You love me?" he smiles warmly, the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

He realizes he had interrupted him and wipes away his tears, still smiling and he laughs a bit. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry... go on." He says, laughing a bit.

You sighs and nods. "I love you too but you betrayed me, Kyle." You says with a sad tone, his smiles fades and he nods. "I know but i had no choice. I had to, I'm a soldier and your dad is a threat to society." He says, a bit angry and looks directly at you.

You looks at the ground, remembering all the good moments you had with Gaz... Your first kiss, the movie sessions you had on his house, when you had a snow fight in freezing Russian winter and had a warm bath shower together, how his touch felt on your skin, those cuddle sessions before sleeping, when you made him sing a russian song and his pronunciation was terrible, how you both laughed until crying while baking and the brownies turned out horrible... You starts crying too.

"Shh, shh..." He pulls you closer to his chest while caressing your hair, he wraps his arms around your waist and put you on his lap. He was also crying but comfort you was his priority at this moment. It helps you to compose yourself and you calm down a little.

"I..i love you too Kyle but...i also love my dad." You says, your voice slightly shaky by how much you were crying. He nods and continues caressing your hair. "I understand...but you also have to understand that he is a terrorist and that he isn't a good person..he might be a good dad but he isn't a good human being." He says, trying to make you understand his point.

You were in denial. Makarov raised you as a princess, you went to the best schools in Russia, he gave you a generous allowance and gave you the freedom to buy whatever you wanted in exchange for good grades and good behavior, you had a beautiful party when you turned 18, dressed in the prettiest and most expensive dress he could've find... You couldn't believe that your father was a monster...

"No... no, no, no, he isn't... he isn't like that! I know him! You're wrong!" You practically yells, the tears not stopping...your heart feels like it's going to break.

Gaz sighs and looks at the ground. "I'm sorry... But your father is a terrible person and you have to accept it." He says, almost sounding annoyed but wanting to comfort you and wanting to make you understand.

"No...no..." you whispers as you bursts into tears, almost hyperventilating and your face covered in tears. Gaz sighs and keeps caressing your hair, holding you close.

It hits you like a trunk. You realizes, all those months that Makarov spent away was him planning terrible things, killing innocents and commiting war crimes... Your dad was an war criminal.

"You finally understand, don't you? It must be hard, i know... But I'm here for you... sweetheart." Gaz says lovingly, his voice dropping with affection as he wipes away your tears and calls you cute petnames. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and gives you a water bottle. "Here, it'll make you relax."

With shaky hands, you take the water bottle and drinks it, calming down a bit. Your heart was in pieces and Gaz was determined to put it all together again.

You two stare at each other for a while, he puts a hand on your cheek and pulls you closer... He gives you an affectionate, sweet kiss. It was love, pure love.

Your heart beats fast as you closes your eyes and enjoys the sensation, kissing him back. He wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you even closer.

You break the kiss after a few seconds, both of you panting. "That was... Nice.." you says with a slightly shaky tone, a shy smiling appearing on your face, he smiles back and gives you another kiss on the forehead. "I love you." He says affectionaly "I love you too." You replies, just as affectionate, enjoying his body warmth against yours...

What does the future have in store for you two?

┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄

🌸 this is probably the final part but who knows?

[universe-of-peoples]

SPOILERS FOR THE LAST OLYMPIAN

I want to talk about Silena Beauregard.

Silena Beauregard. The girl who loved Beckendorf. The daughter of Aphrodite who revolutionized her cabin (before Drew took it backwards). And the girl who, yes, was the spy.

I’ve seen some people get very negative towards her because of her role as the spy (including my favorite podcaster :/) and while yes, she did a very bad thing, I think the level of judgment towards her and the judgment of her moral character is over-the-top and a little un-empathetic. So I wanted to do a little character study on her and her time as Luke’s spy.

First of all, I will preface this by mentioning that she was a teenager. A literal child. Her brain was still developing and she probably would have made different choices if all of this had happened when she was even just a few years older.

It’s implied that before Luke left CHB, the two of them were close friends. Now if your close friend, who you previously cared about, trusted, and thought of as a rational person, suddenly up and disappears, you’re going to be worried about them. Even if you’ve heard that they did a bad thing. You’re not going to immediately jump to thinking they’re a terrible, irredeemable person. You’re going to wonder what their side of the story is, where their mind is at, and, if you truly believe they have done something wrong, you’re going to want to see if you can bring them back to the light. As someone who’s been hurt by people who I previously knew well and trusted, I know it’s really hard mentally to pivot your brain immediately from “person who I know and trust and am very close with” to “person who hurt me and others and isn’t who I thought they were at all”. Like, your brain just doesn’t emotionally process that immediately even though you know it logically. It takes time.

So she knows that he tried to kill Percy and fled camp. But Luke… that’s her friend. She knows him. There’s a certain amount of emotional denial that someone you know, trust, and care about would do something so horrible. He must be going through something, he must need help to get out of this situation. She’s not just going to give up on her friend. She’s going to want to help him come back to the good side.

So somehow she gets in contact with him. He explains his side of the story, and while she’s not on board with him trying to kill Percy, she sympathizes with his issues with the gods. He’s her friend. She doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him. I hc that the contact bracelet might have started just as a way for them to keep in touch; mortal cell phones are a magnet for monster activity, and while Silena may be safely in camp, she wouldn’t want to endanger Luke (no matter that he’s already working with monsters).

Time goes on, and Silena gives Luke enough information so that he doesn’t die when people at CHB may have a plan to harm him. He’s trying to coax more and more info out of her; Luke is already good at manipulating people, and Kronos is even better. If she just gives them this and that intel, then they can avoid killing the other demigods on CHB’s side if they don’t have to. She can save lives. And Luke is probably sheltering her from the worst of it, too; if she really knew all of the things he was doing, she would be out of there in a heartbeat. When Kronos takes over Luke’s body, he probably takes it a step further by threatening to hurt Luke and the other defected demigods if Silena doesn’t give him information. Maybe not even directly. Maybe he just points out that anyone trying to hurt Kronos would also hurt Luke. She wouldn’t want that, would she?

Then Beckendorf dies.

Silena feels absolutely awful. No, worse than awful. Everyone thinks she’s only upset because her boyfriend died, but it’s more than that. He died because of intel that she gave Kronos. He died because she played along all this time. She let herself get strung along as it slowly got worse and worse.

But here’s the thing. Kronos is still the master manipulator. He would tell her that, well, it was Beckendorf and Percy that blew up the ship. It’s Beckendorf’s own fault that those explosives were in place and went off when they did. That’s not Kronos’s fault! And at the same time, wouldn’t it be so messed up if the rest of the camp learned that she was the spy? She better keep quiet if he doesn’t want to expose her.

So maybe she agrees to keep quiet, to save her own skin, but she thinks that she won’t give him any more intel. This is where it gets a bit more tricky for me: trying to find a reason why she kept spying after Beckendorf’s death. We know that Kronos told Percy that there was a spy, and once the whole camp knew, everyone was ready to tear whoever it was to shreds. Kronos could point out to her that she’s become their enemy. She’s put herself in this situation, and now everyone she knows at camp is out for her blood.

I hc that Silena didn’t actually give him that much intel after Beckendorf’s death, though. Not as much as he said she did. He had eyes and ears everywhere, he could have found his intel other ways. He told Percy about the spy and sensationalized her role in order to make her look bad and turn the camp against her and, in turn, her against the camp. As an incentive to keep her quiet. He thought he could salvage his spy by blackmailing her and turning the camp against her, but her will was stronger than that. So strong in fact, that in the end she died impersonating Clarisse in order to give CHB a fighting chance against Kronos.

Was she perfect? Far from it! But they were at war! And one of her closest friends was manipulating her! I think the quote “if a frog is placed into a pot of boiling water it will immediately try to jump out; but if it’s placed into a pot of cool water that’s gradually heated until boiling, it will stay put and never try to jump out” is a very good metaphor for what happened to Silena. It began with checking up with her friend to see if he’s ok and find out what’s going on, and ended with her committing espionage. If she had had the foresight to know what would become of Luke and her role in the war, she never would have done it. She just got cornered.

That’s not to say that she’s not at fault or not to blame. There were times when she could have come clean and stopped spying, especially at the end. I just think the idea that she’s this terrible irredeemable person, or that her actions are not understandable, is not true at all. I wanted to address it since I’ve been seeing it lately (cough cough The Newest Olympian podcast cough cough).

[tea-and-finalfantasy]

some nsfw/18+ hcs for bi-han, kuai liang, and tomas

kept it to one-ish idea for each under the cut so it didn't get excessively long for each. will write more, just not all in one post

Bi-Han

especially angry when horny, doesn't know how to like. ask or be normal about his own urges (not out of a moral flaw or failure/is a genuine issue), so he just gets frustrated and distant until it's like alright we both know you can't be acting like this and he knows and pouts about it but is relieved someone knows how to fucking fix this

it's anger that stems from anxiety over showing what he perceives as weakness/is anger so he doesn't appear as anxious as he is

definitely worse if he wants to receive or sub but still has frustration towards desire at all, is afraid of being vulnerable, of feeling too deeply if it's not fury, of giving into something instead of controlling it

even if he were to go out and have a hookup and be the dominant party and engage in like, degrading someone, he'd still walk away feeling unsure and overwhelmed like he fucked up something somehow, like he can never be as seamlessly in control as he feels he has to

plus he's. stubborn and rude but knows not to treat someone poorly when it's not like, mutual hatred or a fight--like yes he lashes out and is bad to people who care about him BUT it's usually bc he feels he's trying to steer them towards something better? he wants kuai liang to join him and expresses this by being harsh and cold in the hopes that his brother will change his mind. he's rude to tomas when their opinions clash but also has expressed he doesn't wish to see him harmed

so i mean that he knows he has to provide aftercare and will also avoid sex and love because he knows he won't be able to do that properly

he doesn't feel confident that he can support people in the emotional way that they'll need--and is scared of being cared for in that way and feeling vulnerable from it--so even if he wanted to seek out hookups, he can't

then with established relationships, like childhood friends or confidants, he feels he can't be weak as he's only ever been strong so either way, he's unable to lean into being vulnerable

he's been operating on these assumptions for so long that even being cared for and being made to feel safe is gonna set off a panic attack because it's different and unfamiliar and the fear of being ridiculed or humiliated or taken advantage of when he thought he was safe is too much for him to risk it

can manage jerking himself off sometimes without feeling too horrible about it but usually either does it and feels guilty or worse--can't get off as he's too tense and thinking too much about just needing to get off as quickly as possible and can't manage to do it

which means he just gets more pent up and angry, goes to train to blow off steam, can't relax after training, can't sleep because he can't relax, trains again to see if it helps--and it's a vicious cycle of overworking himself until he's so exhausted he finally can sleep + trying to find as many distractions as possible to avoid dealing with his emotions

i def think locktober (feat. prostate milking but no actual orgasms) + no nut November (feat. some ruined orgasms at the end before finally getting off after two months of edging) would definitely get his head on straight

like it's a regimented, more procedural kind of denial, like a schedule or a game, and isn't necessarily self-imposed or doesn't have to be--as opposed to him setting detrimental rules and standards for himself and never letting up

like it turns something he's doing that's stressing him out and upsetting him into something with a timeline and something that, at least at first when he's never done it, someone else will take care of for him and help guide him towards choices that might challenge him but won't break boundaries

like it helps set up boundaries he didn't know he had, helps him relinquish control in a way that doesn't make him completely at someone else's mercy but allows them to choose what's best for him (like he can opt out of things but might be encouraged to try something new)

very mellowed out for a while after that lol

plus it'd be easy for someone to be like "do you need me to take care of you?" and he knows that he's safe in someone else's hands no matter what someone chooses to do with him or what it might usually entail (prostate milking with an actual orgasm either at the end of it or the morning after/a few rounds of ruined orgasms and then a successful one, short bursts of chastity at times where he can decide if he wants to try and break his record or just take it easy and hold off for a week) so he's not just overwhelmed and without a plan

and then he knows what makes him feel better and can request it nonverbally until he feels more capable to speak up, if he ever feels comfortable doing so. either way, he's able to express a desire and not feel overwhelmed by the request, the act, or the aftermath

Tomas

loves receiving oral and knows what he wants when getting it

loves facefucking/taking the lead and fucking someone's mouth while they just keep it open for him

enjoys both a slow pace and a fast pace but always lapses into a softer attitude afterwards, especially if he's been more dominant about it

(see his fatality where he shoves the grenade in someone's mouth. that kind of dominance and focus on oral lol)

with either situation, he keeps his grip firm and his pace even (worried that sporadic thrusts would be harder not to gag on) and is very aware of what he's doing so he doesn't hurt someone or make them choke unless that's what they're going for

even if he's the one keeping the pace, he can get really vocal in a submissive way/not necessarily in a dominant way even if given that control

if he's submissive about it, he moans and whines a lot, begs for things he's already getting as if it could never be enough or like he'll be denied it eventually, gasps and bites his lip and throws his head back--is both very physical and vocal

again, knows he shouldn't break pace unless someone won't gag or is okay with that so he shows desperation/need/lapses in control in how he speaks and moans instead of how he moves

if he does feel like being dominant, his neediness is expressed more through a faster, rougher pace than anything else

he'll do more coherent talking too lol, like praising someone for how good they're being, how good they feel, how much he likes seeing them drool like that--that there's no way for him to facefuck them and for them to come out of it looking like anything but a total mess and he loves that debauched look on them/that they're made for it

the extent of any meanness is pushing himself to the back of their throat and telling them to hold it, to be good and breathe through their nose, and i think he'd consider holding their nose for a moment, just to see them get uncomfortable at the action, but not enough to actually impact their breathing as it'd break immersion for him and he'd get nervous

if something like that is wanted from him (like that kind of force/fear or if someone really wants to gag around him), there'll be the expectation that he can't keep up the strict act for long because he starts getting nervous lol

like you'll get a firm pace but nothing painful or a pace that's hard to keep up with and lots of praise for it--not pain and coldness, even in a made up scene unless it's really fleeting/not for the entirety of the scene

not that topdrop is entirely unavoidable if he doesn't do that but he knows he'll start to feel gross if he's expected to be uncaring so it's a boundary not to be pushed more than that

again, softens into subservience afterwards in appreciation for getting to indulge and because it's a comfortable headspace for him/it helps him get back to baseline

loves to do stuff like eat someone out after he's cum in them (any hole) or clean them up with his tongue after they've cum and made a mess of themselves (again, can be eating someone's pussy post-orgasm, ringing his tongue around the tip of someone's cock, etc.)

likes to get himself dirty and really get his face in there, likes when a partner wraps their legs around his head and forces him in there as he usually starts more gingerly

wants to get covered in whatever fluid or ejaculate you got (if it's arousal fluid from being wet or squirt or cum or christ, sweat and musk and piss even--he wants to pull away and be soaked in it)

Kuai Liang

cockwarming is his favorite thing--either taking it into his mouth and fitting his nose right up to a partner's pubic hair, sitting there and being watched and having his hair played with and being praised

(it can be an actual cock or silicone, doesn't matter the length and includes t-dick--would definitely be interested in doing that with someone's clit even without bottom growth as it's more about intimacy and closeness and praise than anything else but he does like having his mouth full too and would want to engage in that just as well)

or getting filled up with something and being able to relax, maybe sucking on someone's fingers too to occupy his mouth at the same time

just likes getting his holes filled!

probably hasn't considered having a cock/toy in his ass and having fingers in his mouth and having his dick in someone else but would definitely need to do that without much in the way of prior stimulation as it'd be way too much all at once having gotten worked up beforehand (unless he's aiming for overstim)

would absolutely benefit from looking into toys like buttplugs because he could do stuff whenever he feels like it, rather than needing a partner to be free for it, but feels nervous about biting the bullet and entering that search/about realizing he can do things for pleasure even without a partner present

like he's not prudish but definitely has some sort of hang up, as his brother has his anger. maybe it's more concern over pursuing physical pleasure (or pleasure of any kind) because he feels he's not supposed to or allowed to. like he's so worried about so much that he assumes it's a distraction or that his life is so set for servitude that he shouldn't be indulging in personal needs--

even though he doesn't hold anyone else to this standard (like if tomas was forgoing pleasure or good food or any other needs, he'd be beside himself--he wouldn't want presence within the lin kuei to mean abstinence or strict rules, in general and as that's how bi-han wrongfully views it)

even though he's starting to realize that it's not something he can just smother and push aside/that his insistence that he doesn't need something is actually more of a distraction or preoccupation than actually giving in to it

doesn't know it's a thing but is so needy for it once he figures out it is--getting plugged but then later, when it gets taken out so he can get fucked, getting gagged with the same plug that was just inside him

it's degrading and humiliating and dizzying in how inappropriate it feels but he wants it more than anything and how can something he asks for so desperately--too shy to do so verbally but knowing its out and just getting those needy, hopeful eyes at the possibility of it being placed right back inside him but in his mouth--be anything but exactly what he's made for?

will whine and grind his hips into the bed and suck on it diligently, caught between being good and giving into overwhelming desire--wanting so badly to be used and filled and forced to be quiet but being unable to keep from being loud and restless and impatient

in a more social kink sense, absolutely has an oral fixation where being gagged calms him down, makes him feel quiet and floaty and small but very much cared for, like he settles immediately into subspace and it's nice to have that to rely on when things get too much and without the expectation of having it develop into anything. like he can just chill for a while and then take it out and come out of it and go to bed or something, not needing to make it sexual if he doesn't want to

so of course he has a couple masks with different gags on the inside depending on what he feels like putting in his mouth

they're probably much less ornate (detailed ones with gags reserved for more involved play) and are sewn fabric on the outward facing side as opposed to metal so they're more comfortable to keep on for prolonged periods of time or in certain settings (say, private spaces on transit like trains with sleeper cars or hotels where you still might run into someone if you don't keep only to your room)

plus fabric can make drooling less obvious which is also ideal for longterm wear (although he'll take it out to swallow after a bit and then put it back in or take it out to rest his jaw for a bit and then replace it)

the majority of these don't have large gags so longterm wear isn't super strenuous or uncomfortable but maybe one does and he'll reach for it if he's in a particular mood and knows he needs it, despite it being more painful, making more of a mess, etc.

is real cute afterwards, covered in spit and sleepy-sounding like "did i do good" like yeah bud real good, do you think you want to shower or--(he is out in minutes, he's not waking up for nothing)

[hallucinateonpaperspines]

Currently going insane over ‘of timelines and trolleys’ again!!!!

Could we possibly get a spoiler or sneak peak for the next chapter? 👀

(Feel free to say no ofc!! Just thought I’d ask because the implications of ratchets mental state for the next arc is making me insane,, can’t stop thinking about that sad depressed old man and his kidnapped baby charge)

Aww, thank you!

*looks around, and pulls out a piece of paper from my trench coat*

this is between me and you, ya hear? shhhhhhhhhh, just a lil somethin small... don't go blabbing now kay?

SPOILER WARNING, because I am weak for compliments

Some of the worst things happened on ordinary days. Jack had started to forget that.

Maybe part of it was having his ordinary become so utterly extraordinary. For the horrible and the terrible to constantly be lurking nearby, seconds, a footsep, a choice behind the moments that made up his day. Ordinary was what they made of the terrible truths that blasted around them.

Sometimes Jack thought he was the only human that realized that. Miko who sought out the horror like an adrenaline junky, Raf that was absorbed by the the newness of this reality, Ashlyn who seemed to thrive off the chaos. Even Agent Fowler seemed in denial. As if the world they all knew kept spinning and hadn’t been completely remade the moment aliens step foot in its dirt.

Sometimes Jack felt like the only one who saw the change, the flip between normal and not. Sometimes he forgot and the world sought out to remind him.

Jackson Darby had been having an okay day. It wasn’t particularly terrible, Vince had thankfully been keeping his distance ever since the racing fiasco, the only times they talked was when he asked if his “cousin” was in town. The relief on the red-head’s face was was both concerning and exhilarating to behold.

Ashlyn, what did you do to him?

Sierra talked to him during third period, leaning against her locker and twining hair between her fingers as she asked when the next history test was due and what he’s chosen for his art project.

It all seemed so dull now. Pointless, when people where dying and a war was being fought for their planet.

But was that any different from the before?

Wars had always been fought. People had always been dying. The world kept on spinnning, the normal staying ordinary and the extraordinary regulated to a far off terrible dream. That didn’t make the truth any less real. Ordinary any less subjective. Why should it matter to him now?

Because people you know are at risk. Because your heart is exposed. Because now their pain is yours.

Jack shrugged his shoulder and rolled his neck, but the tension remind and the bad feeling in his gut stuck around. It had been a normal ordinary day. An okay day. Not bad but it wasn’t brimming with good luck either. It had just been a day. Normal and completely ordinary.

Well, except for Miko carrying around two giant duffles, but that was an exception that he could understand. The girl was resolute in her plan for a sleepover and Jack could not wait to see how Ashlyn would try and get out of it again. He had on good authority from Raf that they had Ratchet’s support.

So, Miko dragged around her supplies and cashed in a few favors. Jack had some Super Clash Combo Nachos that should be ready for pick up from K.O. Burgers later, he’d do a pizza run too, maybe grab some ice cream bars if he was feeling generous and indenial enough to believe Miko’s promise not to run off for the next five missions was true.

He’d probably grab the ice cream anyway.

Still debating, Jack sat in his history class as his teacher ranted on about the Roman’s and their habits. Impressive architecture, murdering emperors, extending trade routes, taking conquered nations as slaves, bring Pax Romana, and the gladditoral arenas. Surprisingly, most of it sounded familiar. He wondered if it was from one of those history rants Ashlyn and Optimus had been having recently. 

They seemed to be getting along better. It was weird how they avoided each other, not that OP was the most cuddly bot out there, but… there was something there. Something different. Something awkward.

But what did he know?

A flash of blue caught his periphery, and Jack spotted a familiar motorcycle parked outside.

What was Arcee doing here?

His partner was a stickler for promptness, but she never appeared in the middle of a school day before. 

The sinking feeling grew.

His teacher ignored him when he raised his hand. A disgruntled huff and eye-roll was gifted to him with permission to use the restroom after he waved the limb around for a good minute. Jack was out the door before the teacher could change his mind.

It was hard not to run through the building, but he resisted. Walking not to fast but not too slow, smiling to a passerby, Jack made his way to the front doors. Jackson Darby was a good boy, a smart boy. A hard working kid that didn’t skip class or do anything remotely illegal.

His reputation was fraudulent on one claim already, why not ruin his attendance while he was at it?

Arcee’s blue paint was speckled in thin layers of ice, the blue paint unusually shiny as water drip drip dripped down and sizzled on the pavement. The seat was still cold when Jack sat on it, the fake leather smelling of smoke.

“Arcee? Why are you here? I’m at school right now I can’t-”

“J₳₵₭,”

He recognized the language, the sounds, but not from Arcee. He’d never heard his partner speak Cybertronian before. Never heard that bitter tone except for when…

When he first met her… and when they ran into Airachnid. "I’m sorry, Jack… I just- I need, ₣Ɽ₳₲ł₮, I need you to come to the base with me.”

And that's all you're getting right now! But seriously, thank you y'all for reading and being so positive about this story. It means a lot :)

[frenchgremlim1808]

WHAT YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS SAYS ABOUT YOU: YTTD EDITION

PART 1) THE PARTICIPANTS

SARA CHIDOUIN:

You can’t stop praising her about how amazing of a protagonist she is compared to other protags in similar games such as danganronpa. You would and WILL fight anyone that says anything bad about your homegirl an you DEFINITELY need therapy

JOE TAZUNA:

You have the terrible habit of falling immediately in love with the best friend archetype that we met in the beginning who’s clearly gonna die. When they die you keep telling yourself you won’t be fooled again and then you do. Anyway you are in denial

KEIJI SHINOGI:

You keep justifying you love for him by using the “he’s a complex character, he’s deep and shit” but that’s just an excuse to not say “i want him to carnally fuck me and treat my little bitch with his huge arms and tits”. Whatever sexuality you were before, his deep look probably turned you gay. Anyhow you are horny as fuck and you definitely need therapy, you little whor-

REKO YABUSAME:

Either you are the the most gay motherfucker on the planet or you’re veeeeeeeeeeery straight.  you’re favorite ship is naoreko. NEVERTHELESS you want her to step on you. 

Q-TARO BURGERBERG: 

there is exactly two type of q-taro fans, The meme lord or the 20 page Reddit post defending his character from any criticism. We allllll know which ever type of fan you are, you cried like a baby in his final moments.

 KAZUMI MISHIMA:

You definitely made every possible outcome in ytts, an replayed it multiple times. You probably follow  “ mishima-in-places-he-shouldnt-be” and is still sad that this gentle loving dude had to die first why it is. always. the. cool. dudes. who. dies. first., WHY, WHY NANKIDAI ?

KANNA KIZUCHI: 

You are awesome, smart, and just the perfect person to be around, you’re aura smells pure awesomeness, no, NO i am not biased.at.all it’s not like  she’s my profile picture. 

In all seriousness, you probably crave any green bling content and also loves shin too but kanna passion and pure kindness made you make the choice to kill shin. It seemed to difficult to vote for a kid so you voted shin. You relate to kanna struggles And ADORES her character development in 3b. Also you definitely need many therapy session (not projecting at all) .

NAO EGOKORO: 

If being a joe fan is sadness, a greenbling fan depression, well being a nao fan is literal despair and anger with anguish. Bro what the fuck did she do to have such an horrible end like that, her entire experience in the death game was  a pure nightmare. Homegirl did nothing wrong, she shouldn’t literally even be here dude😭😭. You have only one consolation is that now she’s in heaven with her girlfriend, also obviously you ship naoreko

GIN IBUSHI:

You are right in fact you are 99.99 percent of the fandom. And i know that if one day you see anyone put gin below S tier or say anything relatively negative about him, you WILL find them, you WILL track them , and you’re gonna BOIL THEM ALIVE. And i will probably cheer you so go on, pop off, girlboss or mansplain bestie !  

KAI SATOU:

You are mesmerized by his beautiful aura and luscious long mane. Every time the characters talk about him you feel so much happiness that his sacrifice was in the end really worth it, but still you cry that the cutest malewife had to go first.

ALICE YABUSAME:

His atrocious hair made you burn your eyes, his cringe fail personality made you laugh but his death destroyed you entirely. In the end you fell for this transmasc king. If you played logic rote you probably died a second time lol.

S H I N  T S U K I M I:

Shin tsukimi, oh, Shin Tsukimi the character of all time. So from what i understand he’s your favorite character. Were you the weird kid in your class when you were in high school or that one queer kid that tried to hide your identity but everyone knew just by a single look? Just by looking at you i can see a lot of self loathing and unaddressed personal issues that you try hiding under a rug instead of actually addressing them. Do you take time to eat, to drink, don’t forget to take a break from negativity when you are at your lowest, okay ? Diagnosing you is pretty hard you probably have a thousand problems but at least, i hope, not as much as this little dumbass.                                           There is two type of shin fans:

-the one who want to punch him, shove him into a locker and bully him 

-the one who want to give him a warm hug, a nice soup and a good night of sleep.                                                                                                                    In both cases, you are exactly like him and projecting so hard onto him. Also you are supeeeeeer gay like extra gay. Like your aura smells GAY you know. No cis het allo kinnie of shins exist actually, it’s as possible as dividing 0 by 0.  

So conclusion go to therapy

KUGIE KIZUCHI:

Ao3 is your god, your lord and everything that you need to live. Every time ao3 get down you die inside. You crave any content of her and wish that we can know more in the future about her (i do too) and you probably feel in love with her trough fanfic.

MEGUMI SASAHARA:

You guys exists? Well you like evil boss woman, i guess.

This shit full of errors and mistakes also this is a joke don’t get offended, remember as a greenbling fan i am probably the least respected type of yttd fan, well above the keiji simps you guys are wild. 

[degloved]

"hannibal would be a fancy prancy vampire" this, "will would be a messy feral werewolf" that. no. you're all wrong. where's the fun in the obvious. where's the excitement here.

hannibal discovering that there is something bestial and uncontrollable inside him. hannibal ashamed [bitten by a werewolf, survived, became the wolf himself = tricked into cannibalism, survived in mischa's stead, became the cannibal himself], hannibal angry [at the sheer injustice, at the pain, at being tricked, at being molded into something terrible without his consent -> a cannibal, a werewolf], hannibal hurt [has only known how to be a protector, forced to assume the role of the very opposite, his sister's keeper turned dangerous, a watchdog turned predator], hannibal thinking knowing he is unlovable [being a monster is unforgivable, it is ugly, it is terrible, there is now something about him that he cannot be rid of yet which will forever prevent him from being loved.] hannibal knowing that the only one that could love him is himself—or, well, that horrible thing he carries around that will lash out and bite if provoked, that won't let another near it. that he can't risk anyone coming near or seeing, because being Seen is unbearable, it betrays all the ugliness he holds & attempts to cover up with extravagance and three-piece suits.

hannibal's persistent attempts at clinging to the beautiful, despite himself—despite despite despite. hannibal who cannot face the horror [even the his own brand]. hannibal who must disguise the unsightly act of killing and the equally unbearable instinct to do so by at the very least consuming the flesh gracefully: by turning it into a fine art, by resisting the impulse to tear into the meat and hear bone crackle beneath his teeth. instead his meals must be dressed in layers of garnishes and denial; there is so much self-flagellation packed into a single gourmet dish, it is a wonder his guests can't taste him in their food. there is so much forgiveness in there too, forgiveness for himself, forgiveness for having enabled something that will graham had called the ugliest thing in the world [never forgiveness for those that had made him into this]—but look how he has made up for it! is it not enough to consider the ugliness undone?

hannibal falling in love regardless [despite despite despite]. hannibal lashing out in his desperation to be understood as any human longs to be and biting another [the only one he perceived could See him and not shy away] -> cursing another to his own way of life, taking away the same choice that had been taken away from him, all in the name of gaining the ability to bare his own soul and be taken as he is [selfish, monstrous, savage—the only way he knows how to be [human][afraid][ashamed][loving], just so he can look into another's eyes and see the same hunger. see acceptance reflected back at him.

werewolf hannibal who is terrible, yes, but not too terrible to be loved; or, perhaps, terrible enough to be loved.

[twilight-deviant]

As a Fiskmatt fan, I like to see Fisk and Matt falling in love, but it seems difficult and illogical to make Matt to love a villain. Have you ever had the same problem?

Oh my god, auuuuugh! Yes! lol.

At times, the FiskMatt relationship does feel impossible given Matt's sanctimony. Some heroes are more morally gray, but Daredevil leans pretty clean. He has horrible anger issues and he'll bend the rules fairly often, but his one constant is "No killing." Which is obviously something Fisk does a lot. A lot, a lot.

So it can be difficult to reckon with the idea he would ever be in a relationship with Fisk— and that it could last if they ever were.

But not... impossible...

[Concessions for Love?]

One ace-in-the-hole I'm always happy to have is Matt's canon relationship with Elektra. She's a morally complex murderer, and Matt loves her anyway. Though he does often grapple with this choice.

[Daredevil #610]

But he returns to her every time. Again and again and again and again and again.

[Defenders 1x08]

[Keep Reading]

Even if certain concessions have to be made.........

[Wastelanders: Hawkeye #1]

People can prefer Matt with other women from the series/comics (more than fair), but everybody knows his soulmate. ¯\_(╹◡╹)_/¯ Matthew Michael Murdock will (figuratively) stare a healthy relationship in the face, then about turn and get back together with Elektra. Again.

[Daredevil: The Man Without Fear (1993) #3]

"I don't know what we are together, and if we have any chance in the future… I don't… But I… I do know that I'm free with you. Like with no one else."

I take this quote from Matt to Elektra in the DD S2 finale and very simply, very easily lay it over FiskMatt. Truly no effort at all.

[Daredevil 2x13]

I absolutely use Matt's decisions in his relationship with Elektra to justify a lot of my FiskMatt shipping. Because he doesn't agree with all of who she is. He even hates significant parts of it. But he loves her, and he'll always love her.

So when I think about FiskMatt, I already have this bedrock foundation of, "Yes, Matt feels very strongly about his convictions and morals. He will also set them aside and be a hypocrite when he cares about someone." At the very least, I believe he'd choose denial over confrontation. In that, if he were in a relationship with Fisk, they could constantly fight about what the man does, or they could choose to not discuss that part of their lives.

I've gone that route in fics many times. And yes, it is absolutely an unsustainable powder keg. But for me, that is part of the appeal of FiskMatt: a volatile combination brought together out of mutual affection that wants the relationship to last as long as possible while knowing that isn't forever. I get so excited at the visual image of them digging their heels into the earth while being pulled to the inevitable, wanting to be together and fighting all the reasons they can't be.

Granted, I have a strong love affair with bittersweet.

⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗

[Fisk Quits]

But then sometimes, I'll write FiskMatt where Matt cannot accept Fisk's criminal lifestyle. He gives an ultimatum that Fisk can have Matt or his empire, but not both. The idea that Fisk would give it all up for love sounds like a lot, but I can think of two instances where he has. (More if you want to get technical.)

[The Amazing Spider-Man #197]

[What if...? #73]

Fisk is a cutthroat villain, but never forget that his center is so gooey soft for those he loves. Apparently, even a relationship with Matt can get him to walk away from crime (granted, the above situation is more of a familial affection).

I think if you cultivated a reality where Fisk really comes to care for Matt, he could be coerced into giving up crime for him. Which would remove a great burden from Matt's ability to love him in return.

Although... with such a direction, you still have a reckoning with Matt accepting what Fisk has done in the past, even if he won't offend again. Wouldn't that be interesting if Fisk gave up crime for him, only for Matt to realize it still isn't enough? He thought he could start with a blank slate, but he can't let go of the past. Or... you lean into, "Well, Matt is Catholic, and a big selling point is that someone's sins can be forgiven, no matter how heinous." Could go either way.

I do like to think Matt could forgive Fisk's past evil though. *gestures at beloved comic page*

[Daredevil #300]

But it is interesting to imagine Fisk giving up crime, Matt realizing it doesn't fix the past, still breaks up with him, and Fisk gets angry. Now he has no empire or love. 🍿👀

⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗

[Compromise]

I also like the allure of a middle-ground. Fisk still commits crime. Matt acknowledge he commits crime. But there are conditions.

And this comes from canon (series and comic) acknowledging that if you remove Fisk from the underworld, the ensuing power vacuum is so much worse and more violent than if you just left him. So you write Matt putting on his big boy pants and admitting Fisk has to be the Kingpin. The notion that there could ever be a crime-free, utopian city is a pipe dream. There's going to be evil. Let the best case scenario control it. Fisk is better and smarter than anyone else in his position. He takes over and keeps down gang wars, etc.

But if Matt were to admit that Fisk in power is the lesser evil, his conscience can't let the actions of it be a blank check. There are conditions. No one innocent gets hurt in the crossfire, so on. People who willingly entered the life knowing the risks? Fair game. That way, Fisk can still control crime with more than empty threats. Granted, I consider even this to be its own powder keg. Matt thinks he can accept evil men dying. The question is how well he actually does whenever that's tested. Maybe if Fisk works hard to keep it from him.

I suppose that goes back to them stubbornly wanting to be together and ignoring why they shouldn't be. In a situation like this though, Matt might appreciate that he controls the man who controls crime. I like in Jessica Jones S1 when Killgrave suggests Jessica stay with him and tell him everything he should do to be good. Delicious. Though I imagine it would weigh heavily on Matt's mind.

⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗⫗

I guess what I'm saying is there are multiple ways Matt could handle Fisk's villainy, and how you approach it depends on personal preference or situational requirement. The answer in one scenario won't work in another. IE: if I write a fic where Fisk has all the power, Matt can't bargain with or leave him. He has to concede.

I think I've written several different options using the above or a combination. It just depends what I want from them at any given time.

But genuinely, Matt loving Elektra despite her darker nature remains one of my greatest justifications for FiskMatt. It really shines a spotlight on the fact that Matt's choices are different than we would otherwise predict. My guy can ignore so much if he wants to.

[ssaseaprince]

So I've definitely fallen into this, so this isn't meant to shame people. But I see a lot of people who hate Jack, and talk about him being the real villian of the show, or talk about how horrible he was to Will and how he lead to Will's "downfall". But everytime I rewatch the show, I'm reminded of the fact that while Jack was manipulative, Will was very aware of that fact. And Jack's way of being manipulative was trying guilt trip Will into staying at the BAU and continue working for him. Jack's form of guilt tripping was telling Will how guilty he'd feel if people died and he could've prevented it. He offers to let Will quit, but he tells him how if he goes back to his classroom, it'll be all be sour because Will would be looking at images of dead people he could have saved. In s3 when he comes to Will when he's living with Molly and Walter, he uses more dead families as a way to guilt trip Will into coming back, playing on the fact that Will now had a family of his own. But I don't believe that's why Will went back at all. I don't think he cared about any of those families, he may have felt a little sad, but definitely didn't care enough to come back for them. He could've moved on with his life and would not have dwelled on the fact that he could saves their lives. He came back because the temptation to see Hannibal was so strong he couldn't help himself. It was all about Hannibal, I think even if Jack hadn't shown up, Hannibal's letter would've eventually prompted him to return anyways. So again, while Jack is being manipulative, it doesn't really matter and it has no effect on Will. Will makes his choices not based on Jack, not based on his family, not based on saving lives. He makes his choices solely based on himself and later Hannibal. Jack does not have the sway he appears to. Just because Will follows Jack's lead and instructions, doesn't mean he's doing it because he's fallen to Jack's manipulation. What Jack wants just happens to play to what Will wants.

But Will was not, and did not continue working for the BAU because he felt guilty about people dying, or because he felt like it was his duty to save people. I firmly believe that Will could've quit, and he would not have felt guilty knowing he could've saved people. That was not his motivation. His motivation was manipulative in and of itself. He wanted to play hero, he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't bad or morally corrupt. His logic was along the lines of, "well if I keep saving lives then the fact that I want to take them doesn't matter. I can't be morally corrupt if I'm saving people." I think he felt some guilt around his dark nature, but it was never actually about saving people for the sake of saving people, and that's what Jack thought was happening. So Jack's manipulation was useless, he was pushing Will using reasoning that Will didn't even care about. Will's reasons for working for him and staying were entirely selfish.

Jack was an overworked government employee, and had tons of his own issues going on. Who can say that their boss at work never tried to manipulate them into working more? And then Jack was reassured by the fact that he made sure Will was seeing a very highly esteemed psychiatrist, who reassured him time and time again that Will was fine. And as much as Will said he wasn't fine, he'd turn around and say he was right after. Jack genuinely wanted to save people and he thought Will did too, his actions to achieve that weren't the best, but they were far from being bad enough to make him a villian.

I also feel like this idea comes from people babying Will, and forgetting that while he was a victim, he was a grown man who, while in denial, was fully aware of a lot more then he let on. He was incredibly manipulative, selfish, smart and rude. He did not stay in the BAU and jeopardize his mental health because of Jack, he did it for selfish reasons that had nothing to do with his boss. And that's not even beginning to talk about how racism definitely plays a part in how Jack is made out to be the villian even though Hannibal is literally a billion times worse. Not saying anyone has to like Jack, but it's important to deconstruct why you don't like him.

Anyways rant over, sorry.