#sometimes it really is nice to just turn off your brain and say some shit about uber and leet

[wbcannibalgf]

heh "nice" triforce shirt haha it fuckin sucks you dork ass loser *he turns around revealing he is actually local villain duo uber & leet* oh fuck

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[discotitsposts]

meant to be

Spencer trying and failing to flirt with you because you are oblivious to his attempts.

spencer reid x reader

i picture this as later seasons spencer maybe sometime around 12-14?

some mature themes mentions of sex at the end so 18+

writing this because i saw something about people who are bad at flirting and that’s literally me. (i hope ppl get the reference w the nickname)

Spencer had tried every day to get your attention romantically. It didn’t work. Nothing did. You were so oblivious to all of his flirting attempts. He figured maybe you had trouble understanding so he worked harder to make you think of him as more than a friend. He tried everything his genius brain could come up with.

He even made up a nickname for you, Bean, because you always had a coffee in your hand, and because he was taller than you.

Today you were getting coffee with him as usual. At your favorite coffee shop and library. You didn’t work at the BAU so you would eventually have to go to your own job so Spencer decided to try again.

Since you lived in the same building, neighbors in the same hall, he picked you up every morning. Drove you to get coffee and you each picked a book for each other and then he drove you to work.

He knocks on your door awaiting anxiously. You come out in your outfit, just a t shirt and jeans. you didn’t have a dress code at your job, you were an author and usually went into a nice office that the publishing company provided to write since you had a hard time focusing in your apartment. Too many distractions.

In Spencer’s car you make small talk as he tries to think of a way to flirt with you. Normally he’d call Morgan but his son was a toddler now so he was busy. He gets so lost in his head he doesn’t realize he just ran a stop sign on accident and almost hit someone.

He hears you yell “Spencer what the fuck!” and slams the brakes. The other car honks and his heart is pounding in his brain. He pulls to the side of the road and stops.

“Spencer. Breathe. It’s ok.” You worry tracing your face at the sight of his extremely fast breathing and you rub his back reassuringly.

“Holy shit.” He barely chokes out. His face is beet red and he looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“Switch.” You tell him. He looks at you and feels comforted immediately by your face. “Let’s go, switch.” You get out of the car and switch sides.

‘So much for flirting’ he thinks. Then it hits him. When he picks your book for the day, he’ll give you a romantic story. Something that says ‘I really like you but I’m an idiot so I don’t know how to tell you but i’m not actually an idiot because im technically a genius but my fucked up life has ruined romance for me but i’d love to try it with you if you are okay with that.’

When you take over driving you don’t talk. You just focus on the road. You had even turned the music off. He hopes you’re not upset with him. That thought quickly dissipates when you pull into the parking lot and your face is beaming. You both race to the entrance and he gets there first and opens the door for you. You stick your tongue out at him and he smirks.

You order your usual drinks and he gets himself a breakfast bagel and you get a croissant. He puts the food at a table and you both get up to grab each other a book. You had yours picked since last night, The Godfather. It’s only a little over 400 pages so he’ll probably finish it by lunch time but at least it will be fun for him since it will make him think of you. At least you hope it does.

You have a habit of making funny commentary during movie nights. When you watched ‘The Godfather’ trilogy with Spencer he had laughed so hard he cried.

Meanwhile Spencer is searching rows of books looking for the right one. He moves to poetry but nothing feels right. He feels slightly frustrated so he moves back to classics and picks ‘A Little Princess’ instead. A favorite of yours you had read in elementary school. Not romantic but shows he knows you well.

When he makes his way back to the register to check the book out, you’re already seated munching your croissant. He makes his way to you and hides the book behind his back. You discreetly pull yours out of your bag and hide it the same way.

“1,2,3!” You both count at the same time and then reveal your books. Spencer cracks up when he sees the book you had picked. He had read this before but he enjoyed it because it reminded him of you. You both eat and finish your coffees. You look at each other.

“More?” Spencer asks.

“Obviously.” You answer. You both stand up and order more coffee.

Back in Spencer’s car you open the book and start reading. He’s about to put the key in the ignition when sudden confidence hits him. He doesn’t know if it’s the caffeine but he doesn’t care. He should kiss you right now. He stares at you until you look up.

“You’re going to be late for work if you don’t start that engine up soon Mr. Chauffeur.” You tease him.

He leans closer and puckers his lips slightly. He’s so filled with lust he just can’t wait anymore.

You look at him strangely. Was he trying to kiss you right now? Probably not. Truth was you were always so filled with doubt whenever you liked someone. Especially Spencer. He was just too handsome and sweet and perfect.

He leans in even closer to you and tilts his head. You, however, had gone back to your book and weren’t even looking at him.

“Does this make you uncomfortable” Spencer leans in closer. He closes his eyes and you lean down to reach for something from your bag. He doesn’t feel your soft lips on his and thinks he may have missed your face. He opens his eyes.

“Everything does. I have anxiety Spencer. All the time anywhere day and night. ” You reply while eating a yogurt you had found in your tote.

Spencer pulls away and smacks his forehead. He starts the car and drops you at your work and drives to the BAU feeling defeated. What would it take for you to realize how bad he wants you.

That night he decides to drop by your apartment. You had gotten a ride home from work by a friend tonight. He opens his door and walks the short distance to yours.

When his hand knocks on your door he feels nervous. You open the door and greet him.

“Hi!” You cheer.

“Hey, I was gonna order a pizza. You want?” He lies. He actually wasn’t the biggest fan of pizza. He didn’t eat it too often but it was your favorite food so why not.

“That would be great. I’m starving.” You clutch your belly dramatically. Which makes Spencer laugh.

He picks up the phone, “What would you like on the pizza m’lady.”

You tap your chin and think. “Sausage.” You reply. Spencer thinks of a way to flirt. Kind of.

“How much sausage would you like?” He asks smirking.

“Uhh, 5? I don’t know dude. The normal amount that goes on a pizza?” You answer sarcastically, going to your dvd rack to pick a movie. Spencer sighs. He calls and places the order and helps you pick a movie.

“How about ‘How To Be A Serial Killer?’ That’s a good one. I love Matthew Gray Gubler in this one so much.” You fan girl a little.

“Who the fuck is Matthew Gray Gubler? Also, no, not with my line of work. I need a break from that.” Spencer asks with a hint of jealousy in his voice. You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically.

“Ok, fine. how about a Disney Classic? Sleeping Beauty is my favorite.” You ask. Spencer nods. You put the movie on and grab two root beers from your fridge. Spencer thanks you when you hand him one and you lay a big fluffy blanket over you both. Not far into the movie the pizza arrives and you cheers Spencer with your pizza slice.

After you both eat and are full the movie is still on. You’re starting to feel sleepier by the second. Spencer offers you to lay with him and you take him up on it. He’s basically a giant teddy bear. He’s so warm and comfortable.

“I’ve got a real life sleeping beauty right here.” He whispers to you. You smile with your eyes closed. Too sleepy to open. He gets out from under you, to your dismay. He cleans up the trash from eating. He even washes some dishes you had left sitting. When he comes back, you’re still half awake. He sees you sneak an eye open to look at him and your smile after.

“It seems there’s a fair maiden who has fallen asleep. However can we wake her? What if she sleeps for a hundred years?!” He exclaims. You start giggling softly. He leans closer to observe you.

“I don’t believe it! She’s laughing in her sleep! Must be quite a funny dream. Wonder what it is. Only one way to find out.” He gently leans down and kisses your lips softly. This action puts you in shock and you’re blushing. He starts to pull away because doubts fill his mind. You grab his hair and pull him back in.

You both pull back and he starts to ask you,

“Were you ok with that?”

You cut him off, “Yes.” Then you rip your shirt off. Spencer’s in shock. He follows your lead and starts undressing. He picks you up and carries you to your bedroom. The kiss you’re sharing is deepening by the second.

“Fuck why is it so hot in here.” You complain.

“I can think of a few reasons.” Spencer had been kissing you on your neck sucking the skin softly. He lays you back on the bed. He makes you comfortable. He goes down on you and then fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before.

The next morning you woke up naked next to him flashes of last night replaying. You couldn’t believe it. Spencer was so passionate! You didn’t even imagine he liked you like that.

He groans next to you and turns over. You get up and put on some coffee. When you come back into the bedroom he’s awake and looking for you.

“Hey, coffee’s ready.” You lean over and kiss him. He groans too tired to give an answer. He pulls you into the bed and holds you longer.

With him, this felt so easy and realistic.

Then you realize something.

This was meant to be.

the end ♡

to anyone who read this far: hope u enjoyed reading!! please let me know if u enjoyed! xoxo

[steddiealltheway]

Steve wakes up and feels like his head is being split into two. The light coming from his blinds is too bright, his mouth is dry as hell and tastes like shit, and why is his body so sore?

Yeah, fuck, he needs to stop drinking.

He groans and turns only to find that he's not alone in his bed. Oh, and he's definitely naked. Shit.

He tries to rack his brain last night for any type of memory as he checks the girl out. She's facing away from him and her wild curly hair is a mess scattered all over her face and Steve's pillow. But he gets distracted because the stranger has kicked off the blanket sometime in the middle of the night and well... she has a really nice ass.

Steve tears his eyes away. Maybe they didn't sleep together, and, if so, it is entirely not okay for him to stare.

...but it's a really nice ass... Plus, come on, they're both naked in his bed so...

A faint memory of the day before pops up. He remembers Robin, Nancy, and Eddie coming over at some point because they had planned to hang out earlier that day... right?

They definitely got into the pool at some point. At least, he and Eddie did if he remembers correctly, but that doesn't explain why this random stranger is in his bed and-

Wait... did he... did he kiss Eddie? Oh fuc-

The so-called stranger grunts in their sleep, and Steve's eyes snap to them. Yeah, he knows that curly mane and he has no idea how he didn't recognize it in the first place, and oh my god he was checking out Eddie Munson's ass. Is checking out his ass. Fuck, he needs to stop staring at his ass!

Steve does the only logical thing and shoves the blanket back over the boy and turns away. Okay, so all he has to do is put on some clothes, tiptoe the hell out of there, and pretend like nothing happened.

Because nothing happened... Right?

Right. Steve wakes up naked next to one of his best friends who is also naked and has been the subject of some of Steve's late-night thoughts for a while now and-

"Fuck," Eddie groans next to him and turns to lie on his back and brush the hair out of his face. "Where the fuck..." he trails off as he looks around squinting and blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Well, there goes Steve's plan of running out of there and pretending nothing happened. He watches as Eddie sits up, lifts the blankets to peek under them, and then puts them back down. "Hey Steve?"

"Yes Eddie?" Steve asks as he turns his head to stare at the ceiling.

"I'm naked," is all that Eddie says, no joking tone just kind of listing the facts.

Steve nods and replies, "Mhm."

"You're naked."

"Yep," Steve says and cringes before slowly sitting up. His back protests, and, Christ, what happened last night?

Eddie nods his head with his eyes wide. "So, uhhh, do you remember what happened? If... anything happened?"

Steve squints and tries to think but comes up with nothing except... "I think I may have kissed you."

Eddie lets out a deep breath and nods again. "So, we may have kissed at some point and now we're both naked in your bed..."

For some reason, Steve decides to just accept the facts and goes on to say, "Yeah, and I don't know about you, but I'm really sore. So, I think we..."

"Yeah because I'm sore as hell too."

Steve puts his head in his hands and sighs, "This is not how I wanted this to happen."

There's a panicked chuckle to his right, "Yeah, man, if you just want to pretend nothing happened we can totally- wait." Eddie pauses and Steve can feel the bed shift. "What do you mean this isn't how you wanted this to happen."

Oh shit. Steve glances over at Eddie whose eyebrows are raised as he waits for Steve to answer. "Uh," Steve starts and clears his throat then runs a hand through his hair. Might as well come clean about this. "Okay, well since this already happened, let's just say anything we say can be completely like forgotten along with last night if we want that."

"Okay..." Eddie says and nervously fidgets with a thread on Steve's blanket.

"So, I think it's probably clear now but uh... This is definitely not the first time I thought of you in... this way. And it sucks because I would never want our first time to be forgettable or hell, not consensual. Oh, fuck." Steve runs his hands through his hair. Oh fuck drunk him, he's never drinking again. "Eddie I'm so sorry that I may have taken advantage of you and-"

"Fuck, I was scared I had somehow taken advantage of you. You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Eddie says in what sounds like one breath.

Steve's heart races. "Really?"

Eddie nods and then laughs, "Of course, the only way I would ever confess something like this was if I was drunk off my ass. I should've known drinking so much around you was a bad idea."

"Shit," Steve says and laughs. Honestly, it sucks that he has absolutely zero memory of the night before, but he's almost grateful to have been drunk enough to get his feelings across to Eddie... well... sort of. "Hey Eddie?"

"Mhm?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair and notices it feels worse than usual but he'll have to figure that out later. "After I shower, brush my teeth, make us breakfast, and start feeling human again... do you want to actually do something memorable?"

"Steve, are you asking me if we can do the deed again? Because I am more than happy," Eddie says with a wide smile.

Steve groans, "Oh, please don't call it that."

Eddie laughs and launches into multiple horrible euphemisms for having sex that Steve will never be able to unhear.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve kisses Eddie sweetly and whispers against his lips that he has to call Robin and he'll be right back. Eddie tiredly just hums and burrows deeper into his pillow.

Steve wanders downstairs and laughs again at the line of clothes he and Eddie had at some point stripped off on the way to his bedroom from the night before. This is going to be an interesting call.

Steve dials Robin's number and is glad to hear it's her and not her mom. "Hey, Robin."

Robin groans, "Are you calling to apologize for what you and Eddie put us through last night?"

Oh, shit, what did they do in front of poor Robin and Nancy? Steve sits on his counter and frowns. "Actually, I was hoping that you would fill that part of the night in since neither of us remember."

There's a sigh on the other line before Robin launches into it, "Well, for some reason you two decided to see who could drink more which turn into the two of you wondering who could swim better drunk. Let me tell you, you both were seriously struggling out there but refused to admit it, but Nancy and I had to stay because we were too afraid you two would drown. Then, you both got out and said you were freezing, and Eddie told you how he had heard that people with hypothermia can get hot really fast when they huddle up naked under the sheets."

Oh shit.

"Then, Nancy and I had to witness you two drunkenly stumble your way up the stairs while trying to take off your clothes, and you two would not listen to us telling you that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Luckily, when we went to check on you two, you were both already passed out. Now tell me how awkward this morning was,"

So... soreness because of all the swimming in the pool. Stripping to get wet clothes off... and, "So you're telling me Eddie and I didn't get drunk and sleep together?"

Robin cackles on the other line, "Please tell me you dinguses really believed that."

Steve takes a deep breath and confesses, "Is it worse that we decided that if we had no memory of it then maybe we should make a memory of it?"

The cackling stops on the other line before Robin whispers, "No fucking way."

Steve nods then realizes Robin can't see him, but he remembers something and asks, "Wait, I remember kissing Eddie! What about that?"

There's a pause on the other line and Robin says, "Maybe that happened but..." There's another giggle on the line. Oh no.

"But what?"

"I think you're remembering when you kissed us all on the forehead and wished us goodnight - including Eddie."

Steve groans and sighs, but all things considered, "I'm really glad I didn't call you and ask you about it this morning," Steve confesses.

"Yeah?" Robin asks and Steve can hear the smile in her voice.

"Yeah," Steve says. "But I have no idea how I'm going to tell Eddie."

"Tell me what?"

Steve jumps and turns to find Eddie standing in the doorway to his kitchen.

"Have fun!" Robin says with another laugh before hanging up.

Steve sighs and starts, "So, funny story..."

Eddie ends up laughing his ass off while Steve sighs and goes on about how Robin will never let him live it down.

But he won't lie, he's absolutely relieved that his first time with Eddie was sober and entirely memorable. But he's also still convinced that drinking around Eddie is definitely a bad idea since he ended up sleeping without washing the chlorine out of his hair.

The things he does for Eddie Munson...

[prettyboykatsuki]

oliver talking his partner through it and calling him d**** god your brain is so huge my stomach hurts thinking about this. he’ll never tell you he loves you to your face and tries to fuck you more like he hates you because he doesn’t want to get too attached but as you’re getting close he’s all in your face and your neck, teasing you, biting your ear and softly begging you to tell him how you feel, how it’ll be better for him if you tell d**** just how close you are and how much you need him. takes you over the crest so sweetly, and continues rolling into you, chasing his own. his kisses are nonstop and so overwhelming, and he knows they are but he just really needs to connect with you like this. never the first to say “i love you” but unfortunately (in his opinion) he expresses it in so many other ways. sorry.

but i crumble completely when you cry | a. oliver

✮ tags ; DADDY KINK, afab + fem!reader, situationship!oliver, hooking up, unresolved romantic tension, p in v, praise, soft sex, it gets emotionally strange, riding, creampies, unprotected sex, under-negotiated kink in a sense though oliver is very careful

✮ wc ; 2.2k (i dont want to talk about it)

✮ a/n ; anon im going to haunt your dreams for putting this absurd image into my head when i dont even go here im crying screaming throwing up ive been thinking about it for hours. hours of my life wasted on this guys dick. upsetting!!!!!

also i do not write this often and do not plan too again any time soon so if ur seeing this and thinking about following me for content like it i would not recommend!!!

✮ synopsis ; you don't trust oliver with your heart or your feelings. nor do you expect anything from him.

but it's hard not to lean into him when he decides to cradle you so gently.

Your relationship with Oliver is both very ambiguous and very clear.

There's a line drawn, and you both steer clear of crossing it in your interactions. Oliver is fun. He's attractive and charming, a massive flirt but just genuine enough to be interesting.

It helps that he's hot. Physically, he's got an unreal build.

He's an athlete, so he's big. Wide chest and strong arms, thick thighs and the height to top it off. He's 6'3, and he's sexy (and his dick is huge) - and you sleep with him because of that. You don't date him explicitly because he's a womanizer. If you'd met when you were a little younger, a little more naive - you might've tried to dog-train him into being your boyfriend.

Because on top of the immaculate dick, he's fun to be around. He's funny, he drinks well, he's not a scumbag in the ways that turn you off.

You're old enough to know better. You have a career. You're too busy, and too jaded about love to try and fix whatever weird shit he has going on. So even if the two of you harbor some sort of emotional or romantic feelings for each other, you're smart enough to not get invested in those feelings and smart enough to have no expectations.

Oliver is your fun. He's your sneaky link, your weekend off. You come to him to blow off steam. You have rough, fast sex and it's good. Sometimes you chill afterwards, and you'll indulge each other in some physical affection but other times you take your shower and leave. It's a good time, and you know well enough not to ever ask him for any of your emotional needs. You have your therapist and girl friends for that.

Normally, when you're having a rough week - it's prime time to go to him. He'll fuck you a little harder than usual, and sometimes he's nice enough to kiss it better. But it's still, very distinctly, never crossing that boundary.

But some weeks, like this week - shit is bad. Not just stressful bad, but everything in the fucking world that could go wrong, is going wrong bad. It's not the kind of thing you can get over by compartmentalizing and even when you try to do your usual thing it doesn't really work.

You're trying right now - to get over the fucked up week you had. And you're turned on, but somehow - it's still not enough to get you completely out of it.

Oliver pauses mid stroke, in missionary - hetero-chromatic eyes staring you down as your thoughts are somewhere else completely. You don't notice the first time he stops, or the first time he calls you.

And he only gets your attention by cupping your face and making you look at him. You startle as you cast your glance his way.

"What's with you?" He asks, though he's not pissed or anything "Not feelin' it? Want me to stop?"

"No, you don't have too."

"Not what I asked," He chastises, letting go of your face "Not having your full attention is making me go soft,"

This makes you laugh, and Oliver cracks a smile seeing the tension melt off your face if only slightly.

"I'm cool with stopping." He assures. You let your hand reach up to his shoulder.

"It's not like I want to stop, necessarily? Like I wanna do something to get my mind off it and sex feels like the best option, but you know how it goes sometimes," You say, trying your best to avoid the emotional baggage of your words "We can stop though. I'll pay you for your wasted time," You tack the joke on at the end to ease the tension.

You're expecting him to pull out and stop, or maybe challenge himself into fucking you so good that you forget. Something more quintessentially Oliver than what he does do.

He gives you a blank look first, than a laugh that is a touch too sincere for you to be comfortable "That bad of a week?"

You're suddenly in dangerous territory. Somehow, this strange intimacy makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You swallow thickly, the emotions coming over you so quick you end up looking away.

"Yeah. You know. It's fine, but you know."

"Mm," He says. He leans into your space. His breath is warm and his stubble tickles your skin as he whispers in your ear. You feel your breath hitch. And the air feels heavy "Wanna try somethin' else?"

"Like what?"

"A surprise," He says first, and find your stomach tightening. A hollowness in your nerves "Gotta trust me."

"You're scaring me." You joke.

"I'm a sex expert, you know?" Oliver says, humming against your skin "If I can't remedy your little problem with my dick, it's bad for my street cred. My yelp reviews will tank."

"You're such a dumbass."

"Do you trust me?"

You don't know how to answer. Yes, for the most part. Not with everything, but with your pleasure at least. Whatever this is, it doesn't feel the same. But you say yes, anyways. Oliver kisses your jaw in reply, then he pulls out.

He flips position easily. He ends up on his back, then he grabs you to rest on top of him. You're not sure what you're expecting. He holds you by your hips as your sex hovers over his cock. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin as he sinks you down slowly onto him.

You only stare at him, mouth opening as you feel him stretch you open for a second time.

You're more aware of it this way. He's so thick, and so intrusive - and normally, you're feeling that in hard strokes. Fast and rough, like something knocking into your cervix. But like this, he's hitting a deep angle. You can feel every curve, every inch, as you come down slowly.

He keeps you there. For longer than you'd expect. Just keeps you, settles you, holds you gently. You stare at him as he grabs your hand, locking your fingers. Your first instinct is to panic, or crack a joke - but there's an intense look in his eye that shuts you up.

Uncharacteristically gentle, you find yourself frightened. Oliver's hands reach for you again. They hold your waist and slide up the planes of your body. He holds your tits in his palms and squeezes.

He does this a lot, but there's not usually this much touching. This much foreplay. It's grabby, a deeper pressure. He doesn't...feel you, in the way he is now. You stare at him, and he looks back at you so fondly you feel a strange urge to pretend it never happened.

"Play with your clit," He says, though there's no urgency in his voice.

Deep and smooth, the timbre in it has you shaking. You listen, on auto-pilot as you play with yourself clumsily and build a slow pressure. He just watches.

"C'mere, baby. And don't stop touching yourself."

Another pause. It's not the first time he's called you that. He likes to call you all sorts of things when you're fucking, and baby is one of the few. But not like that. Not like this. He gives you a lazy, self satisfied smile and encourages you by placing a hand on where he can reach on your low back.

You lean down, and Oliver tucks you into his chest. He's warm, and strong - and smells so good, like musk and cologne. Your free hand is on his chest, as he grips your hips and fucks up into you.

"That's it," His voice is pleasant to your ears. It feels funny to you "Just gotta listen to me."

He starts fucking you slowly. It's a familiar feeling, a pleasant stretch that dulls into a euphoric fullness. But it's never been this slow before. Each thrust is slow, and punctual, and so deep you feel yourself gasping. It's not enough to push you over the edge, but it's enough to make your mind feel a little numb.

You think he's going to keep at you like this, maybe edge you to take you out of it. But he doesn't. He keeps his pace.

"Had a hard time this week, didn't you, tough girl?" He mumbles, so low it doesn't feel real. You feel your heart start to race. You feel your throat start to close around something, choking "Did a good job and came to me. Gonna let me take care of it?"

You stumble. You aren't sure what to say, you nod and hope he feels it. He laughs a little. You can't be sure if you're fucking Oliver or not.

You know it's him but he's never been like this. Not once. Not ever.

"Gonna let daddy take care of you?" He says, though it's tentative. Your breath hitches. Something strange overwhelms your senses "Tell me, baby."

"Uhm," Your first reaction is a sense of resistance, an immediate pull away. Not that you hate it but you aren't sure how to adjust. You squirm, but you don't tell him no. You feel like you can't in this state "Uh-uh,"

He keeps surprising you, pressing his lips to yours where you hover over him, tender as he ups the pace of his thrusts.

"That's what I like to hear," He almost sounds proud "You'll hurt your head if you think too much. And I'd be a bad daddy, letting that happen, yeah?"

A vulnerable, foreign sensation drives you to speak "You're not bad in that way."

He laughs "Just in other ways, right?"

You giggle "Uh-huh."

"But not in this one," He repeats, very carefully. He fucks into you harder now, pays extra special attention to you. It's all for you, is what he's saying in a language completely foreign yet somehow so known. One only the two of you will ever know fully, confined in the four walls of this room "Daddy is good at taking care of you like this, so you should let him do just that. Tough girls always need their daddies, hm?"

It's what ends up tipping you up over the edge. You cling to him, succumbing to whatever weird space the two of you have fallen into you. Suspended in this odd sense of comfort that Oliver has thrust you in unannounced.

You don't trust Oliver with a lot, and this is more than what you should ever find yourself giving. In the back of your head you think you should pull away.

But he's comforting. It feels good, and strangely feels safe - and even for all the ways he's awful, you trust he'd never do anything bad to you. Even if it's a blip in the timeline, for now it's what you need. A blurry cross into your emotional needs that translate into your physical ones. Too much and so overwhelming, you hug closer to him and take a deep breath.

"Mm," You let yourself lean into him. Just this once, you promise yourself. "I wanna cum."

"Want it a little harder?"

"Mhm,"

"Then Daddy will give it to you a little harder, yeah? Anything for you." He says, and you try not to think to deeply on what that really means. Because even in this state you know it's not nothing, but you should never pry "Daddy can give you anything you want."

"Yeah?"

He chuckles a little as he fucks into you hard. Fucks into you how you need. You're wet enough, and wondering if you were always so into being doted on. Or if it's just the fact that it's Oliver. Another thing you decide to overlook as you zero in on the sensation of being pistoned from underneath. You're soaking. The room noisy with the sticky noise of Olivers cock penetrating you over and over, skin hitting skin as his hips press against your ass. His grip is bruising but not intentionally, his chest huffed in pleasure.

He's just as close as you are, you know all of his cues. You play with your clit faster, sensitive bud throbbing hard as all the blood rushes south. Your mouth has fallen open as the slow, thick desire coiling and culminating into something cosmic. Something big and heavy, but not too fast. Not a crash landing like you're used to.

But a single weight, the force of a star dropping to Earth. You figure Oliver is the gravity in your universe, holding you down so you don't float too far. You want to cling onto him for much longer.

And somehow, you're inclined to think he would let you.

"Oliver," You say his name as it builds, then decide on something else "Daddy,"

"I'm here, baby," He says back, like it's all he has to say for everything to make sense when nothing about this does "I'm right here. Let go."

So you do. You cum hard, and it comes in long never ending waves. Too much. It makes you collapse in Olivers arms, both arms coming around his neck as he continues to fuck you through the aftermath.

"Gonna," He voices, rasping as his thrusts become sloppy "Shit. Cumming, shit."

He cums with you, cums deep inside like usual and you mewl at the feeling of being filled with hot, sticky seed.

When it's over, you're almost afraid to look at him. When the tensions settled, and his chest goes back to it's steady breaths - you wonder whats going to happen next.

"Wanna stay like this for a while?"

You nod.

"Mm. Sleepy."

"Stay like this, then. I'll wake you in a little."

"So you can kick me out?" You joke, trying to pretend nothing is different. He pauses.

"Just to shower," He whispers, hand resting on your lower back "Sleep."

There's too much to think about. Tomorrow will be strange. You let yourself succumb to your own exhaustion.

"Okay."

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi! I have a request, i hope it's not too specific or silly! How about an ace character that finds a fellow ace? Could be a villain that keeps flirting and when the hero tells them they don't want anything spicy villain is like 'Oh yeah no I'm ace too, just like teasing you :3'

Regardless of whether you answer or not, i hope you have a wonderful day!!

For better or for worse, the date they were on was rather pleasant.

It had been a trap the villain had prepared which was in retrospect a little bit too obvious. Their nemesis had lured the hero out of their messy apartment with a single note - a warning that quite a few hostages were waiting for them at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.

Without hesitation, the hero had rushed to the address but once the hero had opened the door, it was rather clear that no one was in danger. Instead, the hero got some judging looks from fancy folks when they had thrown open the door, panting.

The villain had looked rather amused when their gazes had met. It was the kind of embarrassment that burnt itself into the hero's brain. A memory that would pop up whenever they tried to fall asleep. It was so bad, in fact, that they considered turning on their heel and leave all together but the villain was too quick.

They raised a glass, their smile crooked.

And the hero felt obligated to walk up to them, now that curious looks were jumping from the hero to the villain.

"You could have told me to wear something nice," the hero hissed as they sat down.

"You look great in everything," the villain purred. Their eyes wandered up and down the hero. "Even in sweatpants."

"You flatter me."

"I'm stating a fact."

The hero took in a deep breath. Their heart was still banging against their rib cage violently. They lowered their voice.

"Why am I here?"

"Because you're gullible?" The villain swayed their wineglass in one hand.

"That's not what I mean."

"Because you're the city's sweet saviour who will always help the poor and innocent?" The hero didn't really know why the villain was toying with them like this. Clearly, there was an ulterior motive behind this. There always was.

Mostly, it was scheme after scheme with them. It was true that the hero was rather fond of them but they'd rather cut their arm off than admit that.

"You know I don't have much time on my hands," the hero said. "So whatever you want from me, make it quick."

For a moment, the villain didn't say anything and exactly that gave the hero enough time to truly look at them. Apparently, they had taken their sweet time to get ready for this date. The hero didn't know how to interpret that. Maybe it was the overall atmosphere of the restaurant or maybe the villain really cared about other's perception of them. The hero couldn't tell.

"I guess there is your answer. I thought it would be nice to spoil you a little," the villain said. "My little workaholic."

Oh, shit.

To say the hero started panicking internally was an understatement. They liked the villain, really liked them. Maybe even more than that.

And the villain seemed to have similar feelings for them.

The hero swallowed.

It had taken them quite a lot of bargaining, denial and a great deal of sadness to realise that they weren't interested in anything sexual. It had taken them a lot of time to come to terms with it. Back then, they had felt guilty for feeling the way they did. Often, they had wondered if there was something wrong with them. If it was just them who felt like this.

It was an almost obsessive fear of exclusion that had infiltrated their mind. It was exhauting to explain their own feelings over and over again and sometimes, they had even forced themselves to go beyond their boundaries.

On some nights, they had lain in bed awake, asking themselves if it was fair to be this way. To never be able to fully give back and love a partner that way. They had lost enough people they had been interested in romantically because of this. It was always the same stupid cycle. Always the same brainless questions that didn't help nor comfort them.

The hero was a different person now. They were much more confident but losing the villain that way wasn't only awkward, it was also a little heartbreak all over again.

"Listen..." the hero said. "I appreciate all of this. You're very sweet."

They dug their nails into their palms. Most people didn't understand. Most people said they were totally fine with it and still, they distanced themselves in the end. It used to make the hero angry but above all, it used to make them very sad.

"But, you know, I'm ace, so. Well, yeah, I...you probably know what that means but if you don't, uhm..."

Suddenly, something lit up behind the villain's eyes.

"Yeah?" The villain smiled. It wasn't a grin. It wasn't a smirk. It was a sweet, lovely smile.

"Huh?"

"You're ace?" they asked. Again, the hero swallowed. They looked down at the still empty dinner plate. It seemed like they had been in here for hours now, even though it had been mere minutes.

"...yeah."

"Me too," the villain said softly and the hero couldn't tell if this was some cruel joke or if this was a genuine gift from the universe. This meant no explaining, no stupid questions. No lost relationship, no arguments over this...For the first time in their life, they felt excited after coming out.

"What? Really? But the flirting and the-"

"I love messing with you, you know that," the villain said, winking. They took a sip of their wine. "And I meant what I said. You need to relax. You need someone to take care of you, even if that someone has to use some questionable methods to get you out of your apartment."

The hero stared at them, almost drunk on happiness.

"Thank you," the hero whispered.

"What a silly thing to say, darling," the villain responded.

Both would return to the restaurant several times after.

Hungry for more.

[darlingofvalyria]

❝Like we're going to hustle the shit out of his brain.❞

part 01 | it's called a hustle, sweetheart

chapter summary:

[ The math is easy in Helaena's head. One brother, heartbroken and moping and in a red flag relationship redder than Mars, and one hot best friend who is definitely his type. It's 1 + 1 = 3, really. ]

[ 2,345 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— this is going to be comedic and stupid in its comedy, bear with me - fake dating, fwb situation, toxic on and off alysmond, no use of y/n - mentions of sexy times but no sexy times yet (it'll be coming though, so minors gtfo) - multi parts - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— the main vibe is silly and sexy !! you're hel's hot friend !! you getting it down with cregan stark (as you should) !! dunno yet how many parts, but we vibing !! comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You and Hel watch her baby brother, Aemond of usually calm and pretty countenance, drag and wince as he took a mug of coffee- a slow, almost painful affair - mumble something, somewhat of a gratitude and an apology 2 in 1 special, and reverse drag and wince back into into the room.

It's a painful shuffle. A Michael Jackson awkward moonwalk attempt. A pitying regression from the usually very pretty boy you've made it a habit of teasing.

In the past few months, there hadn't be a lot of teasing from you.

When the door clicks, you turn to Helaena with an absurdly amused snort. "He's really such a pathetic little meow meow, huh?"

She slaps your arm. "Stop it. He's really down. Alys really did a number on him this time."

"She always seems to do a number on him every time they breakup." You fight the urge to roll your eyes, for the sake of the concerned frown on your best friend's pinched, starlight eyebrows.

After all, this isn't the first time of the very many on and off moments of the Alys and Aemond Train. You bore witness to it like you're sat in an empty cinema, popcorn stale and it hurts your jaw to chew, and the train has come unloose from the tracks about thirty minutes into the film, but the plot is predictable because it recycles.

Which makes it a garbage film you can hardly stomach, rolling your eyes and getting the fuck out of the cinema about to demand a refund.

Sure the first time, you felt bad, felt horrible for the both of them as it did seem like they loved each other. You had even commended the maturity of their decision, expressed sympathy and an even pious comments of 'but you were both so good together!'

But then the pity kind of loses its momentum when it's been the third time. The fourth. The fifth. So on and on and on...

At some point, you start thinking that maybe Aemond Targaryen— of pretty Jupiter glaze and cherry-pinched lips, a Greek god humbling at the image of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen's genes combined— third time's the charm! or fourth in Viserys' case, snort  — is kind of a masochist.

Because despite saying that they're growing toxic for each other, he comes back.

Every.

Goddamned.

Time.

The maturity made way for screaming matches, bolts of peaking jealousy, and purposeful social media posts made to hook, line, and sinker the other person— like. Gods.

There was pettiness. There was red flags. And then there was the Wikipedia page that pops up when you search 'who is the worst toxic relationship?' and it doesn't even have a paragraph. Or a sentence. Just a picture of Aemond and Alys.

If Aegon Targaryen was made of easy vices and churlish, lazy smirks— his fingers, though cold and sometimes clammy, are still nice against your shoulder when he makes lazy circles at an attempt to flirt before you laugh it off and threaten rip his balls off, because if there's a few things that piss off Helaena, it's her older brother trying to go near any of her friends —

Aemond liked it in deep, ruby-red shards of a cracked heart being put together again and again. At first with superglue. Now he was more or less going with prayers and spit.

At some point, the pity turns to amusement turns to a roll of your eyes turns to concern shifting from the young man to his sister, your best friend, left somewhat the only one left to care for her crash and burn of a baby brother.

And you know for a fact that Daeron Targaryen is a menace on a dirt bike, and yet out here, in these streets, Helaena was worrying for Aemond.

Their mother's favourite child, their grandfather's most studious, and the pride and ego of Kings Landing U Business Department.

Helaena isn't used to worrying about Aemond like this.

You're not used to Helaena worrying for Aemond like this, and the usually pretty boy you liked to tease was starting to piss you off because of it.

"Hel," you start carefully, knowing you're threading on dangerous waters. As much as Hel adored you and no matter how many times she says her brothers are idiots cut from a blended cloth of her Hightower and Targaryen roots— she was also unmistakably protective of them.

She sighs, putting down the pancake batter she was mixing, and you, who was in charge of actually frying them, turn. She had hoped to talk to Aemond when he woke up, but clearly he was still very much smashed at any attempts of comfort or reprimand, even she wasn't sure anymore.

"I know, okay?" Hel mutters. "I know it's stupid."

"It's not stupid," you rush. At her doubtful look, you insist. "It's really not. I care about the little punk too. Even though lately I kind of just... want to hang him by his boxers on the balcony... make him see reason from there."

It works, Hel laughs. Then she smirks. "That little punk is only three years younger than you and a whole foot taller, babe." Then she blinks. Eyes going wide as saucers, which would be comical if not for the fact that she looked like she got the prophecy of Bathroom Urge Number #1. "Oh gods. Oh my god!"

"...Did you poop yourself?" Her face descends into a scowl, swatting you with the bowl. You yelp, giggling. "Hey, hey! Stop- Hel, you're going to spill everywhere! You know kitchen rules! No violence near the stove!"

"I was about to say I got it, you harlot! I didn't shit myself!" But she stops pestering you with the bowl as you snort.

"Okay, one, harlot? Who are you? A medieval peasant?"

"Please. If we were in the Middle Ages, I'd be a princess."

"That's actually too true, my princess, how dare I."

Hel raises an eyebrow. "But back to point- wait, actually, damn, where were you last night?"

Helaena already knew the answer. Apart from the fact that it is a best friend's duty to be apart of every slight and win in another's life, you had used your regaling tales about Cregan Stark as a means to distract Hel from worrying about her brother every time he broke up (or her; they're very gracious to each other as they take turns in piling to this toxicity), once again, with Alys.

"At Cregan's," you respond lightly, turning to flip another pancake into an awaiting plate. You were at Cregan's last night, so you only found out about Aemond's newly- and briefly - placed single status this morning when you got into the apartment you shared with Hel. She promptly placed her brother in her room while she, seeing as you weren't in yours, slept on your bed.

"And what did you do?" She knew exactly what you did— what you both did, every time since meeting again two months ago at the bar you worked.

"I helped him, uh." You stuck your tongue out, busying yourself with breakfast to clench at an excuse. "With his taxes."

Helaena snorts. "What does taxes have anything to do with the hickies? Gods, you look like you got mauled."

You snicker, fingers briefly dancing over the blue and violet marks over your neck and collarbone. It dipped lower to your chest and thighs, but you weren't going to tell your best friend that. By her wry grin, she already knew anyway.

"Okay, okay, enough of that. You said you 'got it'? Got what? A way to stop your brother's toxic relationship with the very hot older woman that we all known and adore as Alys Rivers?"

"Yes!" Then she hesitates. "But... are you and Cregan...?"

"What? No! I told you." You roll your eyes. "It's just a thing with us. We're both single, not really ready for the dating scene. He broke up with a serious relationship not long ago, he's not ready for it, and I'm sorry, but unlike your brother, is dealing healthily with it."

"With you."

"With me, yes." You shrug, turning off the stove once you've scraped the entire bowl. "So no, we're not in a relationship. But what's your plan got to do with my amazing- and frequent - sex life?"

"And you're sure you don't like him like that?"

You roll your eyes. Hard. "Yes, my royal pain the ass, I am."

Before you can react, Helaena has grasped you by your arms, watery lavender eyes wide and begging.

"Hel, I love you, but I don't like you like that."

"I love you too and same, no, no—"

"What do you mean 'no, no'? That is so offensive—"

"—I mean Aemond."

"I don't really love your brother either, though, I find him extremely pretty," you muse.

"Good! Might help with my plan!"

"What is your plan?"

"I will owe you, so, so much."

Your eyes narrow. "The fact that you're not telling it to me straight means it's a big ask, Targaryen."

As guilt flashes in her eyes, you know you're right. "So, so much. I swear. I will do your laundry— the chores! All of 'em! For a month!"

"Helaena Targaryen, I swear to the gods—"

"Canyoupleasefakedatemybrother?!"

You blink, triyng to unwound what she just spat in one exhale. "I am not fucking the sad out of your brother, that is also not healthy."

"What!? No!" Hel inhales, enunciating better now. "I said, Can you please fake date my brother? My poor, heartbroken, wonderful, you said so yourself 'very pretty', baby brother?"

She blinks, owlish and pityingly, the way you know she knows has gotten her out of a lot of messes. Has gotten her brother, Aegon, out of a lot of messes with their grandfather, who you know to be an asshole to anyone— the incident when he sideway called you a whore, still very bright in your mind; a grudge that keeps on going — but his granddaughter.

"Hel, I adore you, but that's the single most, stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"No, no, it's a lot more complicated than just you fake dating him, duh, I mean like, he knows it too! Like we're going to hustle the shit out of his brain!"

Your eyes flicker to Helaena's room where said sad sack she wants to hustle the shit out of, is in. "Elaborate."

"I meant like. Okay, so we know how this is going to go, right?" She rolls her eyes, her voice lowering to a hush, but her grip on you is just as strong. "They're broken up, he mopes around for a few days, goes to the seven stages of grief the on steroids version, making weird posts and baits against Alys until one of them takes a bite, then they meet trying to feel each other, suss each other out, next thing you know, they're in bed together and we're back to the Good Days of Aemond and Alys as seen on TV! But oh wait, it's worse every time it recycles! Like your favourite show but with butt-ugly new cast they never address!"

Hel takes a deep breath, defeated and desperate all at once. "I am so tired of it. Mom is so tired of it. You're tired of it. And I know, deep down, Aems knows this isn't a sustainable way to love someone. To be in love with someone. But he doesn't know anything but Alys. She's his first everything- yeah, I know about that too, it's disgusting. But now... there's you! My very hot, very beautiful, very amazing best friend."

You nod. "I am agreeing with most of your points so far, especially the compliments geared toward me."

She playfully slaps your arm, continuing. "If we pitch this as like, you helping Aemond make Alys jealous... make it seem as if we're helping him out by sussing her out... you're a total bombshell, babe, Aems will see that there's more to love and lust than just Alys Rivers. It doesn't have to tell all, start and end with her. Every time." She grins as if she's so smart, finally releasing you and placing her hands on her hips to complete the look of 'Yeah, my idea is brilliant, I know'.  "We just need to get his eye away from the not really prize, and make him realise there's more than just the toxic in and out of a failing relationship with your first love."

It's hard to tell her that her idea might not be so bad after all, but Helaena is already grinning as she reads your face like an open book, jumping and clapping around silently.

"Hold on, girlfriend," you say lamely. "How are we even sure I'm his type? Imagine thinking all this, and I'm a plate of grass to a carnivore."

Helaena snorts. "Please, girlfriend. You're older than him, hot as hell, and has a coochie that keeps Cregan Stark well entertained that he's politely said no to the female population that wants him. You are not grass. You are a prime rib-eye they need to ship from the other side of the globe and further ruin our climate."

At your snort, a blush spreading across your face, you press your tongue against your cheek, not willing to concede just yet but feel your will slipping with all the positives.

First, no chores for a fucking month.

Two, you'll have fun (in his own way), adorable pretty boy Aemond again, sans the toxic.

"He can't fall in love with me, Helaena," you say carefully. "I'm serious. I don't like him that way."

She is already shaking her head.

"Of course not, he won't. We just need him to focus on anything else other than Alys. Gods bless her soul."

"She's still alive, Hel, Jesus."

"But you're perfect for this. No ones going to fall in love with anyone. I promise." Helaena grins, tearing a piece of pancake and popping it in her mouth. "My plan is foolproof."

A few thousand hours later, her plan, is in fact, not foolproof.

TAGLIST (message to be added! please ensure you are able to be tagged to get notifs): @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss

[jolalibrary]

voicemails

frankie morales x f!reader

do we drabble on sundays? is this what we do? well, anyway, here’s some soft sunday fluff. no warnings: except fluff and sweetness and lovely softness. dedicated to @msjarvis who didn't ask for this but I’m giving anyway.

JUST THINKING ABOUT HOW THE TWO OF YOU BEGIN LEAVING VOICE NOTES FOR ONE ANOTHER. It started one time when life took one of you away from the other—the bed you share and the walls you laugh inside of are lonely without the pair of you together. Because it all feels vaster, quieter.

Then it became a thing. A make-do measure, a thing both of you grew to need first thing in the morning and last thing at night. A habit. A tradition. The day not beginning or ending without it.

It quickly becomes a comfort, a thing that brings the both of you joy, happiness—in the same way the scent of your shampoo does for him and how when he’s alone he leans closer to your pillow because it lingers and he consumes as much of it as he can to trick himself he’s not lay in bed alone.

Your voice in the morning makes up for the fact your mug isn’t left on the side or in the sink, all used. Because he hates it when he wakes and finds it in the cupboard, where he put it last night, it rumbling through him and making his chest clench.

There’s a list of things he misses when you’re not home, and if he begins, he isn’t sure he’ll ever stop.

Frankie supposes you’ll have your own list. An itinerary of things you miss about him when he’s out of town. Sometimes you share them, let them slip out and mumble them down the phone when you’re pacing, unsure what to do when he’s not home. It makes his heart squeeze in his chest, all tight, especially when he hears you doing mundane things he usually gets to watch you do, like cook or make a drink.

It’s why he likes the voice notes. Likes being a part of your day even if he’s not there. Has the chance to listen to them on his drive or when he’s brushing his teeth—pretending, even in hotel rooms—that you’re closer than you are. Staring at your contact photo as you say those three words, I miss you.

The voice notes range in topic. Sometimes they’re about your day, about the fucker you work with that he’d love to break the nose off; sometimes they’re a ramble about your breakfast, interspersed with a minor rant about something. Odd times they’re about dinner, hearing you move things in the refrigerator before you confess you’ll order and leave him leftovers.

He has his favourites, a handful of ones he’ll listen to on days where he needs more sunshine. One is the day you tripped, again, over his toolbox. An odd choice, he knows. It beginning all high-pitched, voice tinged in venom and anger:

“Francisco Morales, if you leave your toolbox in the hallway one more time—“

Then it was doused in sweetness, absolute honey, and it wasa exhilarating to fucking listen to.

“—Oh, you washed up. Oh, baby. Well, shit—Frankie, I love you okay? Just put your damn tools away.”

But the one he has saved is one where you’ve tired, exhausted—brain having kept you awake and every noise in the house doing something to make the shadows seem more dangerous than they were. You’re babbling, eyes likely closed, voice just reeling off the things your brain is thinking—no filter, no barrier between thought and tongue.

“—and baby, even though I’ve been sleeping in your clothes, I miss you. ‘Cause you make me happy—so happy, you know that? You have to. Tell you a lot. The bed does feel super weird without you. It’s really cold, and big—like too big. I turned the thermostat up, I know, I know, I’ll turn it down. Oh, and baby, I saw sprinkles moonwalk again on the fence. I did try to record it—but, you know me, I’m clumsy, chipped my phone. Don’t be mad. Please. I know you won’t cause you’re good, kind, nice—god you makemehappy. So tired. Justwanttosleep, you know?—“

He remembers driving back through the night the following day—slipping in, quiet as a mouse. Old training came in handy as he slid out of his boots and cautiously placed his keys.

Frankie managed to miss the floorboard he needs to fix, the one that usually gives him away—and even remembered to not use the light in the bathroom. His last test had been the bed, somehow managing to get in with precision, even roll you closer without waking you.

It’s worth it, all the time away—the voice notes in between—for the life he’s able to build with you and the look he wakes to in the morning.

A thing he thinks each time.

Because you look at him like he solved every problem wrong in your world; you look at him like he makes the impossible, possible.

And, after all he’s been through, he’d been sure that ship had more than sailed. That his chance had gone, faded, slipped through his fingers like water or dust.

But here you are. Your voice filling his ear in real time, whispering a good morning, if he had a safe drive—and he’s full of gratitude all over again. As he is every time he gets to hear your voice—in person or through the phone.

an: sometimes, voice notes are just the best, right? I also love voice mails, and all voice related things.

[sturniolo-rat]

The High Life Part 1

Matt Sturniolo X Stoner!Reader

Part 2

A/N: because I need a babysitter when I’m high and this is generally how it goes.

Contains: fluff💕, daddy k!nk

TW: drug use

In which Matt babysits a high Y/N and she becomes submissive and breedable😏

“Matt, would you still love me if I was a worm?” Y/N asks, looking at him through a cloud of smoke.

He looks up from his game “You’re high as shit, but yes, I would, the fuck”? She’s always asking dumbass questions when she smokes. Matt doesn’t smoke himself, but he likes to be around to watch Y/N. Not only does she look really hot, but she becomes so baby, and he wants to take care of her. 

“Okay, but what would you do?” She looks up at him expectantly, looking for a very specific answer.

He turns in his chair. “I’d put you somewhere safe and find the wizard bastard that did this to you.”

Y/N shakes her head furiously. “No, there’s no wizard. The universe just took my human form back and decided I was actually supposed to be a worm.” She says, pulling the rolling tray onto her lap as she sits on the bed facing him crisscross applesauce.

“Alright, easy.” He claps his hands. I got this.” She pauses grinding her weed to lean in. This time, she’s hoping for a more pleasing answer. “I’m going outside every day, rain or shine, even if it’s a hurricane, and I’m screaming up at the sky and demanding the universe turn you back.”

Wrong again. “Oh, so you only care for my human body and not my worm body?” she says indignantly as she struggles to roll her joint.

He grabs her face and kisses her forehead. “Baby, please, you already know you’d have a 6-foot terrarium in our room” he takes her rolling tray off of her and starts fixing her shitty rolling. “but I know you’d be sad cuz you wouldn’t be able to talk. Hence my screaming at the universe.” He licks the end of the rolling paper and seals the joint up. “It’s all for you, my love.” And he holds the perfectly rolled joint out. He learned to roll for her recently. He can only roll joints thought because blunts are for losers, and Y/N doesn’t fuck with tobacco. 

She takes it from him, completely shocked. “Well,, I guess that’s nice of you?” Referring to his hypothetical screaming and his unhypothetical miracle joint rolling skills. “Since when did you know how to do anything even remotely related to drugs?” 

“Last week. I thought I would help my baby out in all her endeavors.” He cracks a smile, knowing he’s thoroughly impressed her. 

She spaces out for a few seconds, then Says, “Could I come outside sometimes?”

He nods, instantly, knowing that her brain just did a factory reset, and is talking about the worm hypothetical again. “Mhmm, I’d put you in my shirt pocket, and we’d go on dates, and I’d get you plates of dirt to eat.” This was not the answer she was looking for because it was so much better, and just so perfectly Matt.

“You’re amazing.”

He pats her head. “I’ll go get you some snacks and water, Lovie.” He leaves, and Y/N feels so comfy and loved. 

“Get my special cup, please!” she yells to the kitchen. The cup in question is a 40-oz stainless steel tumbler that says Daddy’s Girl. Matt knows she’s in subspace. 

When he comes back to the room, Y/N is all cuddled up in bed with the stuffed shark he won at the fair last month. He’s got her special cup in hand and his arms full of chips. He throws them all on the bed and hands over the cup. “Got your cuppy, Sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” he never liked being called Daddy before he met Y/N. She just brings something out in him. When she’s around, he just wants to take care of her in every conceivable way. 

“Anything for you, Baby.” He sits beside her on the bed, and she lies her head on his lap. Matt feeds her chips as they watch Family Guy. It’s amusing watching tv with Y/N when she’s high because she can’t follow the plot story shit. He likes asking her what she thinks is happening and listening to her crazy, convoluted answers. 

Somehow, over the course of a couple of hours Y/N ends up sitting between his legs with her back against his chest. She cranes her neck and stares up at him for a while. His lips look so soft, and she can’t look away. Matt notices this and tries to focus her back on the show. “So, what do you think Brian and Stevie are up to right now?”

“D’know.” She shrugs and continues to look at him.

“Do you need something, baby?” He asks.

“Mhmm,” she said, shaking her head and biting her lip.

Matt knows exactly where she’s going with this. “What do you need,

Love. You have to tell me before I can help you.”

“I need you, Daddy.” with that, she opens up a whole new can of worms.

Smutty part 2

Masterlist

Taglist

[ladyzayismultifandom]

3D

College AU: fuckboy!Jeon Jungkook x Reader Genre: smut with heavy use of mirrors

Warning Tags: mirror play, cunnilingus, raw sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, and pussy drunk jungkook lol.

Description: Your friend with benefits wants to show off his new purchase and he knows just the right way to do it.

Minding your business and studying for your upcoming exam you ponder over what would really help motivate that burnt out brain of yours.

Too bad nothing was coming to mind. Or at all. It had been a minute since your guy bestie turned sneaky link back to just friends with benefits hit you up. It's complicated.

About a year ago when you were sophomores at a Halloween party a few drinks in the two made out in a closet during a game of 7 minutes of heaven. Your friendship with him has been questionable ever since. What your girlfriends don't know is that ever since then the two of you still hook up regularly. You just pretend it was a whoopsy but low-key if he asked you on a real date one day you'd probably say yes.

Sitting in your office your phone starts to vibrate. Speak of the devil. You pick up the phone "Yes, Jeon?"

"So if you're ready and if you'd let me" He sings

"Jungkook" You warn him.

"I wanna see it, in motion, in 3D" He continues. You look at the phone and sigh ready to hang up.

"Y/N don't hang up! I'm sorry" You smile and put the phone back to your ear. "Apology accepted. What do you want?"

"Now we both know that." Still smiling you close your laptop slowly backing up from your desk about to pack a spend a night bag. "Shouldn't you be studying? Finals are right around the corner."

"Can't focus but speaking of being around the corner come outside I gotta show you something." Shit. You shove some clothes in your bag and sprint to the front of your apartment complex in a big hoodie so none of the other students from your university notice you getting in Jungkook's Jeep.

You look at him up and down. He's wearing a black sleeveless shirt showing off his colorful tattoos with dark blue jeans paired with some nice Jordans. His piercings looked extra shiny today. Although you'd never tell him that his piercings made him cuter since he prefers to be called sexy you can't help but coo sometimes. You couldn't lie to yourself. He looked damn good. "So what do you want to show me?"

Back at his place you get comfortable throwing off your shoes somewhere and taking off your big hoodie. You look around the place still looks the same so what could he possibly have to show you?

"Come on it's in my room" He takes your hand with no hesitation and pulls you towards his room. Other than obvious fuck boy red LED lights he had on you did notice something different.

The ceiling mirror.

This mirrors oversees the entire bed. He must have done this on purpose. He already has a full body mirror facing the bed but you guess that wasn't enough. He needed something to confirm his ways.

"What do you think?" He hovered right by your ear. You had forgotten he was right next to you.

"I think you're ready for a onlyfans account." He pulls your back against his chest holding you by your hips. Who says I don't have one already?" Like butter you're melting into him already. Soaking in his scent. He kisses your cheek. "Let's make a movie" He whispers.

"Jungkook!" You smack his hands away, go up to the light in his room and turn the LED lights off. You always preferred the natural lighting from his bedroom window anyway. No neighbors to catch you fucking on the other side. Just the birds and the trees.

"Y/N I'm serious. Let's make a movie."

"For who? Your little fan club at school? No thanks." You plopped onto his bed looking at yourself in the new ceiling mirror. He laid down next to you.

"No just for you and me. Think about it." He got closer. " When you're away during the holidays I know you think about me sometimes. You could watch it whenever you miss me." You turn your back to him.

"Sounds like something more beneficial to you."

"Aww baby don't do me like that. You know the feelings mutual"

"Why don't you ask your other girls to do it? I bet they'd do all kinds of tricks for you on camera."

"Exactly they do the fucking most but you're... special. " Curiosity eats at you as you turn back in his direction.

"Special how?"

"You know what you want and exactly how to get it. I don't have to teach you anything or talk you throu-"

"What if I want to be?" You cut him off.

"You want me to talk you through it?" He grins, and your frown comes back. He takes your leg and wraps it around him as he slowly rubs your thigh. "You want me to talk you through it while I'm balls deep inside you? Is that it? You wanna watch yourself come undone on my dick in the mirror, baby?" His hands creep into your pants, slowly rubbing against that damp spot on your underwear. You let him take off your pants, revealing how soaked you really are. At the edge of the bed on his knees, he pulls you to him.

"So what's it gonna be, princess?" He kisses up your thigh, making his way to the point of no return

"Kookie" you moan. His brown eyes darken.

"I need a verbal yes, baby,"

"Yes! Hurry up!" You lean up on your elbows to look at him but not for long as he dives deep, taking your breath away. "Fuck Kookie ~"

Looking up, you get a better view of the two of you. Your shirt riding up with you breast poking out a little. Suddenly thankful you didn't put on a bra earlier when he came to pick you up. Your panties on the floor, Jungkook on his knees, face deep in your pussy. Something about the sight of yourself getting eaten out turned you on more than the act itself. Suddenly, you felt empathy for Narcissius. Looking this good while getting fucked how could you not fall in love with yourself?

Looking into the mirror in front of the bed, you could see just how wet you were getting. To keep from your legs shaking so much, Jungkook held your legs apart. His gently kissed your clit before looking up at you with honey glazed eyes full of lust.

"Enjoying the view?" His voice brought you out of your bliss. When did he take his clothes off? Who cares.

"Come here. Now." You demand. Like a devoted servant, he comes at your beck and call. Crawling over you to give you what you need. He takes off your shirt the veil between the two of your naked bodies before kissing you. You can taste yourself on his lips. The sweet aroma of his cologne and his tongue gracefully gliding in your mouth drives you crazy. Your pussy clenches on nothing and you start to pant a little. You slop your hand between the two of you to relieve yourself a little, but he grabs your hands and put them above your head with one. "Not yet." He kisses your neck trailing down to your breast. You whine as he sucks your breast the overwhelming neglect of your pussy starting to piss you off but your moans keep coming as do you because as soon as he reached down and finally touched you a waterfall shot out of you.

"See, baby? Patience" You couldn't take it anymore, so with all your might, you pushed him and got on top. His dick sprang to life, ready for you. In one swoop, you sank on top of him. His hips stiffened, making a o with his mouth eyes closed, hands tightly gripping your hips. Satisfied you leaned back a little and ride him not really caring about pace just getting there. You looked up at the two of you. Breast bouncing up and down, ass never looked better, His dick disappearing inside you more magical then any trick you've ever seen while his hair starts to break a sweat keeping up with you. You couldn't stop it was like a dark sex ritual.

While distracted, Jungkook took your arm and pulled you down to him for another mind shattering kiss. You couldn't think when he kissed you. Your mind that seemed to always be racing went completely dark as he kissed you. Without pulling out he rolled you over on your back, wrapping your legs around his waist before he drilled you. Your hands wrapped around his neck, scratching his back as you got closer.

"Look at you a dripping mess on my bed. I don't think you've ever swallowed my dick like this before baby" He slowed down but that didn't stop the pressure as he pulled all the way out and slammed back in making you both gasp.

"Fuck baby look at you." You did. Under the mirror the two of you were a tangled sweaty mess. You would definitely need a shower after this. Watching his hips grinding into yours as you hold him tight was your breaking point. " Kookie I'm-"

"I know, baby, just come. I got you" and just like that you fell apart. Oceans crashing, eyes rolling back, holding Jungkook for dear life as he helped you ride it out slowly before he pulled out. His seed leaking out of you. Coming back to reality you looked at Jungkook as he sported that dumb smile that you lowkey love. "What?"

"I told you you were special."

A/N: HAPPY KINKTOBER!

[sp4ceboo]

CHAPTER 2 ~ LATE NIGHT TEARS

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: excuse another set up chapter, shit will start going down very very soon

chapter warnings: mentions of death/death threats, sad vibes ngl

chapter word count: 2.6k

After Chan agrees, things progress surprisingly fast. Although he sends Chan a warning look, Minho doesn’t object, and Seungmin looks at you coolly, as if he hasn’t quite put his confidence in you but doesn’t object to sharing a space with you, either. Felix just looks happy. You get the sense that he trusts you just because you haven’t given him a reason otherwise.

If any of them take notice of your row of kitchen knives, they say nothing.

They decide among themselves who is going where. In the end, Felix and Seungmin stay back with you while Chan and Minho go to fetch the others. You talk a little with them, finding out that Felix owned a cafe and Seungmin was doing a masters in law. The blonde happily chatters with you, informing you further that Chan was a lifeguard and Minho a dance teacher and sometimes part of a troupe, as well the lives of the others, while Seungmin stares out the window as it begins to rain, occasionally chipping in.

It’s altogether far too easy to talk with Felix. There’s something about him that’s warm, something about the simple way he trusts you that makes him all the more trustworthy - he puts you at ease in an instant, his low voice comforting and familiar. The way he tells you about his friends makes you like them before you’ve even met them.

By the time they get back, it’s nightfall. They’re soaked, droplets of water sliding from their hair and onto the linoleum floor in tiny rivulets, starting in tributaries at the hems of their shirts and turning into not so small waterfalls - you notice they’re all shivering slightly, the tips of their noses and their cheeks flushed scarlet. Pulling off his mask, Chan runs his fingers through his hair and slicks it back, dropping a stuffed backpack on the floor beside him, careful to avoid the quickly growing lake around his feet.

There’s the four you haven’t met yet gathered in a small huddle behind him. The handsome, tall guy must be who Felix described as Hyunjin - the artist who models on the side. He shakes the rain off him, droplets flicking from the ends of his messily tied black hair onto the younger man beside him. To their left, a shorter man laden with muscle removes his mask, revealing a cheery smile that makes his evident strength a little less intimidating.

Your eyebrows raise as Minho slaps the butt of the last of the new arrivals. You stay quiet.

Felix and Seungmin go to greet the others, and you remain sitting where you are, giving them some privacy. They speak quietly, though occasionally a bright laugh rings out, and you’re struck by how familiar they are with each other - Felix told you that they were lucky they were all together when the first horseman came, but you find it hard to believe they wouldn’t have found each other one way or another if they hadn’t been.

You catch flashes of damp skin and ivory grins as they wring out their clothes. Curious glances get sent your way until Chan peels off and sits beside you; you’re positive that nothing could hide the affection in his smile as he looks over at them.

“It’s a lot when you first see all of us together, huh?” he says, his voice confiding and bemused.

“A little,” you confirm. “But it’s nice, really. It’s good to hear laughter.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I can’t count how many times they’ve saved me. They’re family.”

You’re startled by Chan’s easy confession, enough so that all you can do is stare at him in shock, surprised to find that he looks relaxed, his eyes far away and his hair sticking out at all angles from where he’s rubbed it dry. Your brain takes that particular moment to note that he’s got a soft, inviting mouth - it compliments the sharpness of his nose well. Unfortunately, neither of those things is something you could respond with.

When the muscular one approaches, the other three behind him, you’re still scrambling for a reply. Eventually, your mouth, which had been previously hanging open like a trapdoor in effort to make a sound in answer to Chan, snaps shut and you send them a pleasant smile as they assemble awkwardly in front of you. Over their shoulders you can see Minho attacking the bags they brought with them, unpacking them with organised ferocity.

“I’m Hyunjin,” the artist-model announces, as you predicted. “Nice to meet you.”

“Jisung,” the one whose butt Minho slapped says. You notice his hair is slightly shaggy, curling around his reddened ears and at the nape of his neck, and he regards you with a neutral expression, as if he hasn’t formed his opinion on you yet.

“I’m Jeongin,” the youngest adds, and unsurprisingly, you can see the suspicion thinly veiled in his eyes.

Your gaze slides to the last one to introduce himself, the muscular one. According to Felix, he must be Changbin, who was in the army. The moment your eyes lock on his, a distant memory surfaces of you and a boy in the school library, hiding from the stern librarian and trying to stay quiet despite his infectious laughter. You almost don’t recognise him - not just because he’s gotten rid of that ridiculous bowl cut he had when you were thirteen, but because his frame has filled out with muscle.

God, it suits him.

You search his face for a flicker of recognition, for anything, but you find nothing. Unexpected disappointment slices through you - he doesn’t know you, either because he’s forgotten you or because he doesn’t care. Either way, you guess it doesn’t really matter who you were friends with when you were kids. It still hurts, anyways.

“Nice to meet you all,” you say once Changbin has introduced himself, trying to keep your voice bright and your eyes off him.

Though the lab is your space, you feel like an intruder as they talk among themselves. Even Felix has forsaken you, moving across the room to prod at Changbin’s arms as he pesters him about something or other, twin smiles brightening their faces.

You feel lost. You can’t help but question Chan’s motives again - you don’t belong with these men, nor does your presence benefit them in any way, and yet they still smile, unflappable despite the distrust you see in some of their gazes. It’s clear to you that Chan himself doesn’t trust you fully, either, but he seems to like you well enough.

The same can’t be said for Minho, though. Jisung is talking to him but you can feel his gaze pinning you down, watching you in a way that makes you want to sink into the ground below your feet.

There’s a warning in the sharpness of his glare: you hurt them, you die.

The more time you spend with them, the more you realise how tightly knit they are. They work as a unit to distribute the food for dinner (you receive a can of beans, cold, of course, and a stale granola bar) and to count up and evaluate the supplies they have left, with your additions from the convenience store; they pair up to share blankets when they decide it’s time to sleep while you get one all to yourself; and now that they’re all quiet, you’re half certain they’re breathing in sync, too.

It’s not even weird. You can tell that this harmony is what has helped them survive for so long, not only physically, but mentally too. Together they are self-sustaining, confiding in each other, falling into their separate roles without having to be asked: you get the sense that even the sleeping arrangements are non verbally premeditated, down to the Hello Kitty blanket Changbin and Felix are sharing.

They fit together like puzzle pieces. You’re not sure if there’s space for you.

If that concerns him, Chan doesn’t let it show. He beckoned you over to sleep beside him, which unfortunately meant that you also ended up next to Minho. That in itself seems like a precaution. You have no doubt that he’d happily incapacitate you before you could even start thinking about doing any funny business, if you read the look he gave you as he shuffled a little closer to Jisung well enough.

Thankfully, Chan’s half pointed towards Jeongin, enough so that he doesn’t have to stare at you as he falls asleep. After a while of staring vacantly at the spot just over his shoulder, you realise how pleasant it is to lie on and under blankets after over a week of slouching on the hard floor; they’re soft, and the one beneath you is slightly warm from Minho, which would be disconcerting if it didn’t feel so fucking nice.

Despite the knowledge that you’re in a room with eight other steadily, defiantly beating hearts, that you’re not the only living person left in the whole world, you find that your eyelids won’t droop closed.

Sighing heavily, you roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. You’re reminded of the school trips you went on when you were younger, where you’d listen to everyone else’s breathing slow as they fell asleep, still up and wriggling about in your sleeping bag like a caterpillar ready to hatch.

At least back then, there wasn’t the looming possibility that you were the only person awake on the whole planet.

Careful not to hit either of the boys beside you, you squirm, shifting around in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. You’re just about to turn over again when you hear the blankets rustle, the sound of someone to your left getting to their feet and padding out of the lab interrupting the soft sound of the others’ breathing.

Instinctively, you shut your eyes, pretending to sleep. Your fingers tighten where they’re clenched in the blankets. You wait, counting fifty of Chan’s breaths before you get up and follow.

You’re entirely unsure of what you’ll find. You don’t bring a knife - you didn’t hear whoever left pause to take one, and if worst comes to worst, you have the taekwondo classes you took with Changbin, way back when.

Quietly, you ease open the door, stepping out into the corridor. You check the little kitchenette first, which is empty. Your boss’s office is the next closest, but you notice the communal room’s door is ajar, different from how you last left it - you’d been hoping closing it off would shut out the memories of the first horseman and his rictus grin.

Pushing it open, you realise with a jolt that whoever is within is crying: the only illumination within the small room is a splash of red tinted moonlight, but your eyes are adjusted enough that you can see the way he’s hunched over on the sofa, sniffling a little as sobs shake his shoulders. From the longish black hair, you’d guess it’s Hyunjin.

You know you should leave and give him privacy, but the night gives you bravery, as if the inability to see makes your lingering embarrassment exist a little less.

“Hey,” you say softly, coming round to sit beside him on the sofa.

Hyunjin tugs his sleeves over his hands so he can wipe his tears away. “Sorry, I must have woken you up.”

“Don’t worry, I was up already.”

You find that now you’ve bitten the bullet and decided to talk to him, no words reveal themselves to you. Telling him ‘it’s okay’ would be a blatant lie, and asking him if he’s alright would almost be worse; you can’t think of any better options, and frankly, you’ve always been a bit clumsy with your words.

Instead, you awkwardly hold your arms out. “Is it okay if I, uh - ”

Scrubbing at his eyes, he nods, his arms already wrapping tight around you before you can reach out for a cautious hug. Closing your eyes and resting your chin on his hair as he cries, you rub gentle circles on his back, holding him a little tighter when little sobs slip out from deep within his chest. You feel tears prick at your own eyes. There’s no guessing what aggrieves him, although with the current condition of the world he doesn’t really need any excuses for crying, but all the same, his vulnerability awes you.

A treacherous thought enters your mind: you could kill him now.

You could grab a knife, cut his throat, dump him somewhere outside the lab and claim he left and never returned. Logically, you could even take him as hostage and demand they hand over all their supplies and weapons, but you don’t. You can’t. In truth, you owe them.

Besides, you don’t want to stab Hyunjin, or strangle him or whatever violent thing a more pragmatic and heartless person would do - most likely, Minho would slaughter you if you did, anyway, and you wouldn’t blame him.

At least with these men, this little band of tight knit survivors, you won’t die alone.

In response to that realisation, you link your fingers with Hyunjin’s, smoothing a comforting thumb over his knuckles. A small smile raises the corners of your mouth as he sighs into your shoulder - albeit accompanied with a little sniffle - and you squeeze his hand tightly in a silent pledge: I’ll fight for this family as if it were my own, because I hope that one day it will be.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask abruptly, startled by the rude din of your own voice. “It’s okay if the answer’s no.”

“I… I think I do, if that’s okay,” Hyunjin replies, still with his face buried in your shoulder. “It’s nothing specific, really. I just miss the way things were, you know? And my family, and my dog, Kkami, and the dog before, Kkomi.” He shrugs. “Somehow I even miss just seeing people in the street. I wish I could go outside and get bumped this way and that by a crowd. I don’t even think I’d care if I got mugged or hit on. At least it’d be normal.”

You laugh but sober quickly. “I get that. Holy shit, I get that. Crazy how things changed so fast, huh?”

Hyunjin nods in agreement. “I can hardly remember the - ”

The door bursts open. Your heart lurches as you glimpse the lightning silver flash of a knife, and you jerk upwards on instinct, the coffee table toppling to the floor with a harsh clatter. It takes you half a moment to recognise the raging blur - his features are twisted with a savage, fearsome type of protective intent, his hair still mussed from sleeping.

Eyes blazing, Minho brandishes his knife as he zeroes in on Hyunjin. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin replies sheepishly. “I just didn’t want to wake anyone.”

Minho’s eyes soften, even as he rolls them. “All that fuss for nothing.”

Jeongin appears in the doorway. “I told you they’d be fine,” he grumbles. “You’re paranoid.”

“You gave me the knife,” he huffs. “Don’t act like you weren’t even a little bit concerned.”

Wiping his face, Hyunjin gets up, and you follow him back to the lab. The guys all squint up at you, expressions varying from wide eyed to amused. Chan sighs when he sees everyone is unscathed, half in relief and half in exasperation before promptly ordering everyone back to bed.

This time, you have no problems falling asleep.

taglist: @estella-novella @0bticeo @lixies-favorite-cookie @smashleywow @realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable (let me know if you want to be added)

[vyl3tpwny]

wauitb what the fuck i have 5000 followers

this is insane hi guys

to celebrate 5000 followers on tublr here are some facts about myself: - my favourite food is fried chicken

- my favourite food is spicy fried chicken

most of my hyperfixations fluctuate in and out, but some that don't ever seem to let me go are my little pony, half life, skrillex, undertale/deltarune

recently i have developed an unfathomable obsession with bees i have a huge bee hyperfixation i play bee swarm simulator on roblox every day and i watch bee videos and i also just designed a beesona on pony town its name is beetrice the dragon bee:

my favourite movie is probably wolf children or mr. bean's holiday or elf

im basically lucario for girls

i am like a dragon and i collect things that i like.. you can see some here:

i play a lot of instruments, mostly piano, drums, singing, and guitar/bass/ukulele. my first instrument was the drums tho which i started playing when i was 2 or something. i no longer play drums because our house is too small for a drum set right now and i dont like electronic drum kits. one day!!!!

i have had zero music lessons which is why you should also make music bc you dont need to spend life savings on music education to make chunes

non-musicians who have influenced me the most are @sterfler and @astroeden who have changed my brain chemistry forever artistically (this is not an exaggeration)

i am not allergic to anything at all somehow

im the motherfucker who will drink an entire gallon of whole milk with nothing else yeah im just kind of awesome like that

i do not drink alcohol (anymore) or smoke or do drugs or anything like that just a personal pref

i am filipino but i am also chinese and scottish and italian and polish and maybe other things

i have been openly queer since 2011

i have been a furry since 2007 or something?

i have been making music since 2007 or something....?

my first true love as a musician was queen, which (because of their older albums) was my rabbit hole into the world of progressive rock. my passion for creating music was nurtured entirely by my discovery of genesis and the album 'the lamb lies down on broadway'. the next thing that shaped me as an artist? skrillex - 'scary monsters and nice sprites'

i have really bad verbal processing issues so you can probably speak directly to me and i will have no idea what youre saying sometimes

my feelings on art change a lot but i update my topster lists every now and again

i am mostly right [hoofed] but i'm technically ambidextrous

my first concert was bruce springsteen i think it was in 2009. i still love the the boss to this day.

i'm a kitty cat

i am also a dragon

i am also a possum

i am a formless void

my first song i wrote when i was 8 was titled after a jimmy neutron reference

the second song i wrote was a fan song about the flying dutchman

i played the original dota warcraft 3 mods long before dota 2 and league of legends existed because i've been a blizzard fangirl since like 2005 and now i hate blizzard so fuck you blizzard you're evil as shit but anyway i used to try and do map development for warcraft iii games but really my favourite thing to do was build maps where i could build the biggest possible army to fight npcs for fun. one of the first videos on my thecobalion channel is a warcraft iii map someone else made. i've just now turned it off private so you can see it if you want.

my favourite kind of humour is recursive

ok thanks what i can remember about myself right now. thanks for following me!!!!

[hongluboobs]

tumblr user hong lu boobs have you played any of the new canto yet im very interested in your thoughts

Yes I do!!! I don't want to make a big post on Some Of The Stuff til the whole canto is up (if you are aware of this account and some of my recent postings it may become aware of what i am talking about) but ohhghghgh. This shit Re Awakened the naive cyanism in me!! I thought it was gone. I thought I was over Hong Lu! I haven't even been doing my dailies and weeklies as of late that's how out of it i've been. but NOPE!! We are sooooo limback babey!!

(i apologize for yapping about hong lu right off the bat. its not that guy's turn yet. it's don's world and we are all just living it, but with the way don's character is structured my brain goes more towards a "wait and see" approach for her. I know it'll be awesome and i Am invested but like. this is hong lu boobs dot tumblr dot com. I'm sorry women)

I'll put some basic stuff above the cut and then some more spoiler-y stuff below.

HUGE fan of the presentation this canto. PJM continues to get crazier with this stuff every canto and this is no exception.

In the light of that previous bullet, I am fully expecting some meta fuckery here. They've pulled some cool stuff at the ends of cantos 5 and 6 but. this is the sinner about delusion/unreality! I Live In Fear of whatever pm is cooking.

The setting is also REALLY fun. whenever I saw a new battle bg i was cheering and clapping. they're all so fun and whimsical and there's so much potential for interesting things

I really like seeing how people dress in the north of the city! We've had so many new factions/branches of factions thrown at us so far and I love a lot of the outfits! Will this still hold true when I try to draw them and get upset at the level of detail after drawing standard formalwear on pm characters for so long? Maybe!

The CGs have been really clean so far? As an artist I get worried about this stuff sometimes because it's a lot of work to get done but all the ones I've seen so far are really nice :)

If you aren't reading passives and status effects this canto. do that. my brain might be a little too small atm to comprehend some of the gimmicks w the main enemy type but some of the wording in the enemies passives may be hinting at things. Also some of them are really funny

this Might be my favorite direction they've taken the OST? Honestly it's so hard to pick because this ost NEVER misses but I've been typing this whole thing to that one boss's theme (you know the one)

If you've played through the first part of the canto, feel free to click through the read more for some of my thoughts that delve more into spoiler territory

I am so intimidated anytime the screen goes black and I have to deal with various colored text and Scary Voiceover. I cannot say much on it aside from just how scared i get whenever it happens. I'm pretty bad at identifying voices (especially if i don't understand the language) but these lines just get. so interesting

Here they are all together for my convenience (and potentially yours :) )

I don't have a ton to say on it especially because anything I say can be proven wrong Very Quickly and I am not a don quixote scholar but I think the "Please, please! I don't want an adventure, stop! Please!" line from (who i assume to me) second kindred don is VERY interesting. much to think about regardless!

UPDATE: while I was writing this my buddy lu-is-not-ok (follow him. if you like what I do you'll like what he does.) sent me this image.

Yep, we've got identity stuff going on. Yellow seems to be Our Don Quixote (It's her text color, at least, but back then she'd be the bloodfiend second kindred, hence being able to obliterate that bear immediately, and acting less in line with the DQ we know and love) while red is... maybe the original don quixote? The original owner of rocinate at least,("Your running shoes look like they could fetch a nice price...") who seems obsessed with justice and fixers like ours. I haven't read the book so I don't feel like I can add a ton more to this aside from flat speculation but I am very interested in how this develops.

Ok now I want to talk about Hong Lu stuff. Let's ignore the elephant in the room for just a second :)

I'm a big fan of the exchange between Dante, Verg, and Hong Lu. THERE IS SO MUCH CONCERNING FORESHADOWING IN HERE!!!!! OH MY GOG. I can't handle it.

the specific wording of "the most lucid one" is SO interesting to me. fully expecting these cantos to be a True Combo. I was already anticipating it because they both have so much to do with rules and the boundary of reality and delusion but with the familial hierarchy theme present in bloodfiends its Definitely happening. And the light in Hong Lu's left eye going dimmer??? with the water theming being used??? Gloom/sinking themed distortion Please Please Please. you're nothing. Theres some water connections from the book irt the land of illusion (near the end bao-yu's enlightenment is seen as realizing that everything is akin to moonlight mirrored in the water- it ultimately doesn't matter and everything predestined to happen will occur regardless) and this water theming is present in Hong Lu as well (base ego) but it's really interesting to see it Like This.\

And now. there's probably some other stuff I can talk about but I wanna say things about The Elephant In The Room. If you follow my stuff and are caught up on this canto you know what I'm talking about.

I have been compiling a diagram with every mention of Hong Lu's family across all his dialogue. (which you can see here if interested, though it's now outdated for obvious reasons) We only really get vague mentions, the only direct family appearance is Jia Huan, who shows up to say one line and then fucks off.

I was not expecting to get stuff on Hong Lu This Early. They've been giving us mostly crumbs and I was NOT expecting to get hit by All This. I have been surviving on scraps and I just had the Hong Lu lore equivalent of a rotisserie chicken thrown to me. I'm kind of rusty on DOTRC because I haven't touched up on it in a while and as such I cannot give too many details but it's very interesting to see Xichun.

I'm going to check up on Xichun's characterization in the source later because there's so many characters in that book and she wasn't really one I had that close an eye on during my read. From what I remember, she's one of Bao-yu's cousins who lives in the garden with him, and eventually runs away to become a nun when the family starts falling into decline. (mirroring Bao-yu running away to become a monk for the same reasons.) I'm probably missing stuff I'll catch when I go out to reread the book, but based on how she's depicted here it gives me more of an idea about what themes of dotrc they're pushing for canto 8.

They're for sure emphasizing the familial abuse and how fucked up the jia family is. It almost reads like all of the siblings are in competition with each other (building "factions"). and Hong Lu has said his siblings have attempted to kill him before.

Hong Lu has been like this, which lines up with his book equivalent of Bao-yu, who is notorious for being childish/naive and not necessarily working within the pre established rules and conventions set up by his family. I'm curious how he's managed to survive this long with the jias a lot more willing to Kill Eachother.

"My most amicable sibling" fucks me up so much. what the hell is this family's deal man. I'm really curious about this line, because xichun is not a sibling but a cousin in the book. I'm curious what's gonna happen with Bao-chai and Dai-yu in Limbus because it's very challenging to adapt this story without those two. Dai-yu in Dotrc is one of the characters Bao-yu feels most comfortable being himself around. Generally, the female characters in DOTRC are better people than the male ones, and Bao-yu spends most of his time with the girls as a result. I'm curious how/if they'll adapt this because it's a pretty big thing in the book and they serve as an escape for Bao-yu from dealing with the nightmare that is people like his father. I feel if it was happening, they'd probably write Xichun a little kinder, but I don't know nearly enough to make any sort of call yet. Absolutely TERRIFIED (positive. this is a good thing) for what PM is cooking.

I'm gonna have to cut this off here because i have A Lot of thoughts but i also have many assignments to finish and have been typing this for way too long! Thank you for asking the question anon I hope you enjoyed reading some of my thoughts :) !!

[redr0sewrites]

Sub!Eris Vanserra Thoughts/Hcs

this maaannnnnn ive been brainrotting sub eris foreverrr im kinda tired and my writing is kinda mid recently but i had to write this

🥀Cw: smut, sub!eris, marking, begging, praise, degrading, oral (m receiving), overall filth, reader is gn and can be read as a strap or actual dick

Eris is such a brat, hes cocky and confident and most people would never suspect that hed ever submit

he doesn't relinquish control often, and you didn't think that was something he would ever be into until one night. you were riding him, and the both of you were sweaty and overstimulated with pleasure. His hips rutted up desperately, his arousal making his head hazy.

"ple- nghh, please mistress- it feels so good-" his pupils were blown out, hair tussled and chest heaving. He froze immediately, realizing what he had just said. You paused too, his words making you even more aroused then before

"you like that, little fox? like it when i make you beg?" eris doesnt meet your eyes, but you already know his answer

"if you want me to move again, you're going to have to ask nicely" his hips jerk up slightly, yet you force him back down, rolling your hips as a strained whine leaves his hips. Lets just say that it was quite an interesting night~

After that, Eris began to become more comfortable with being submissive

it definitely took some time for him to get used too, but he trusts you

love love LOVES when you tie him up, he wants to be completely at your mercy

pleASEEE praise him, this mf has the biggest praise kink. He needs to know how good he is, what a good job hes doing, how hes making you feel...

When you praise him, his eyes get glossy and his brain goes blissfully blank, he just need you so bad! he wants to be good for you, he really does

however, despite his love of praise, he can be a major brat....

eris will mercilessly tease you all in the hopes that you will rail him stupid, degrading him and biting deep hickeys into his firm shoulders as his knuckles turn white from gripping the sheets, eyes rolling in pleasure because its all so much, too much~

DEGRADE HIM‼️‼️‼️ SAY THE MEANEST SHIT TO HIM, PULL HIS HAIR AND BEND HIM IN HALF

has a reverse size kink, he LOOOVESSS if ur smaller than him yet still pin him down and restrain him. he adores it when you take control

sometimes, you tease him as well

say for example, hes very stressed doing his high lord duties- what better way to relieve his stress then sucking him off? crawling under his desk while hes working, he cant even focus from the overwhelming pleasure from your mouth around his cock. eris is biting his lip so hard it draws blood trying not to make a sound, yet soft whimpers keep slipping through. it only makes you more aroused, and one hand grips your hair roughly while the other clings to the desk, shaking with need as his eyes roll back

when hes angry, he adores it when your rough. fold him in half, his knees pressing up against his chest as you rail him senseless, your cock is so deep inside him, nudging his prostate so well and making his thoughts so fuzzy<3

overall, eris just loves it when you take control<333

i swear im trying to write more school is kicking my ass guyssss JAJSJSJ. IM ACTUALLY SO EXCITED I FINISHED THIS THO- FEEL FREE TO SEND IN MORE ACOTAR REQS IVE BEEN HAVING A TOTAL ACOTAR BRAINROT!!! I HAVE MORE ERIS STUFF COMING ALONG WITH SOME AZRIEL STUFF ROTTING IN MY DRAFTS LMAO

[sitkowski]

inclination ( noah sebastian x matt dierkes )

pairing: matt dierkes x noah sebastian (background nicholas x noah!) cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ intercrural sex, biting, chastity devices (cock cage), mention of safe words, partner sharing. matt's…matt, who thought he'd be nice here? word count: 1k author's note: he made it out of the bathroom, but he's not done yet. more brain worms, please enjoy. divider by @saradika-graphics

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || locked mini series masterpost

Matt almost said no to being involved in whatever kinky shit Nick and Noah have going on. As a matter of fact, he did say no when Noah first asked him. The last thing he needed to do was play along with whatever game they were playing. He knew too much already, when they were all crammed together in the van or the motel, and Noah looked like he was three seconds away from crying every five minutes. And Nick couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, he’d already told Matt about the whole cage thing, if not to keep him from wondering why he was being so mean to Noah on a regular basis during the tour. He knew that Noah had to do certain things to get Nick to use that key around his neck.

So yeah, Matt caved. Like he always did.

They were leaving for their flight early in the morning, but everyone was still going out to the bar down the street from the motel. Which was fine, Matt knew how to corral them all and get them to the airport on time. He had a birds eye view of Noah and Nick going down the hall to the bathrooms, to Folio going after them, and then Jolly when Folio came back out. He herded them all out the door at a reasonable hour. And when Nick told Noah that he was going to watch a movie with Jolly and Folio back at the motel, Matt knew it was his turn.

He follows Noah to his and Nick’s room, leans against the door and watches as Noah paces a bit while he shrugs out of his jacket. His eyes are wild and unfocused, and Matt almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

“I’ve gotta give you credit,” he says. “I really thought you would have safe worded out by now, you’re a fucking mess.”

Noah freezes and turns to look at him, and he sees that bratty little attitude he sometimes gets. “Yeah? You gonna make it worse?”

The corner of Matt’s mouth tilts up. It’s obvious that Noah’s patience with the night is wearing thin, but that’s not really his problem. He waits, staring at him until Noah starts to look a little uncertain before he pushes off the door and crowds himself into his space. It doesn't matter that he’s got to look up at him. “You know I’m the one who’s gotta tell him if you were good or not, right? The last stop before you get out of that pretty little cage of yours, Sebastian.”

“Shit,” Noah whispers.

Matt smirks. “Yeah, shit.”

He starts to say something else, maybe apologize, but Matt doesn’t let him. Instead he drags him into a kiss. He figures it’s only polite to do so. When Noah tries to sink to his knees, Matt shakes his head.

“That’s not what I want from you.” Noah opens his mouth to ask, but Matt shushes him. “Where’s your lube?”

“We can’t—”

“Don’t worry, I know what we can and can’t do. I already asked. We’re not gonna fuck…exactly.”

He thinks Noah might argue, and if he did he’d think of something else. He’s not here to make him do something he’s uncomfortable with. Just like everyone else, Matt knows the safe word. Noah doesn’t use it. He backs away, grabbing the bottle of lube that is right on the nightstand and brings it back, holding it out expectantly.

“You gonna let me see it? I know no one else has.”

Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, Noah undoes his pants, pushing them and his boxers down around his thighs. The cage isn’t what he thought it would be, for some reason he was expecting something steel and unforgiving. Noah’s is a pale blue color and silicone, with a little gold padlock. He knows that the key is always around Nick’s neck. Matt stares until Noah starts to blush and fidget, curling and uncurling his hands at his sides.

“It’s cute,” Matt says, not entirely sounding nice about it.  He taps his fingers against it, and then pulls back to gesture towards the dresser. “Why don’t you bend over that for me?”

Noah moves like he’s told, and Matt undoes his shorts. He sees the way Noah’s shoulders lose the tension in them as he waits for whatever Matt’s going to do. He hadn’t been lying, he had no intentions of fucking Noah. Maybe because Nick would kill him. But he pops the cap on the lube, slicks his fingers and strokes himself idly, letting Noah wait. To his credit, he doesn’t move past letting his head fall forward between his shoulders. Matt slides his cock between Noah’s thighs, and he hears his sharp intake of breath.

“Oh,” Noah glances back, and then shifts around to close his legs around him. Matt hisses at the feel and Noah smirks. “Okay, c’mon.”

Not wanting him to think he’s got any kind of leverage here, Matt grabs him by his shoulder and hip, rocks against him hard. The friction works in the best way, and beneath him Noah slumps forward even more. His hips knock into the dresser with each thrust, and Matt swears under his breath. Every time his cock brushes against the cage, Noah whimpers and Matt feels a thrill up his spine. He leans over, arm braced beside Noah’s head. He grinds into him, and when Noah turns his head and sinks his teeth into his arm, Matt is almost surprised that’s what makes him come.

Matt pulls away and Noah stays there, gasping for air. He can’t help but move enough to look down at him and the mess he left on his thighs. “Might wanna clean up before your boyfriend gets back.”

“Fuck…off…” Noah manages, lifting a hand and flipping him off.

Matt chuckles, fixing his clothes before he reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Might wanna hydrate too. I think you’re gonna need it.”

⇉ taglist:

@deathblacksmoke @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens @malice-ov-mercy

@circle-with-me @dominuslunae @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses

@vinyardmauro @thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @collidewiththesavannah

[loquarocoeur]

In which occasion do you think Carlie would safe word in yours!verse??

Like I feel if he ever thought he was doing something max might not enjoy or if he thought he was ACTUALLY hurting him he would use his safe word, but I’m curious to see your take on this cause I loved “red yellow green”, and I would love to know what you think would be the situation in which Charlie uses his safe word

Well yeah if he got the feeling something was wrong with Max obviously he'd safeword, but I also think there would probably be times where he just kind of gets in his own head about it and he feels like he's a shit person because he's 'hurting' Max or smth like it's natural for your brain to sometimes be like 'love of my life is crying because of me, logically that's bad and ergo I am a terrible person' and freak out in the middle of things

But also naturally sometimes someone simply isn't in the right state of mind or mood to go through with a scene, like if Max is looking for trouble and Charles can tell, but he doesn't really feel in the right headspace for it he'd just say yellow and tell Max that so they can figure out if they just want to have sex without Charles being mean or just some chill sex without the dom/sub part, or he'd say red and they just do something else entirely and leave the sex for tomorrow

Or there are times where you think you want something and then turns out you don't like it, like maybe Max is into something and Charles would probably use yellow to just say like um, I love you, but it's a no for me

Or sometimes things probably just go too fast and they're stumbling on something new in the middle of things and you feel like it's too much and too fast and you can't do this new thing without talking about it first so you'd use yellow, or if you're like woah panic, you'd use red I guess

And also I think they both have days where they're just absolutely insatiable and their sex drives just do not match up and it's the fifth fucking time today and 'honest to god Max I love you so much but red because my dick is about to fall off, go jerk off by yourself' and it's not even serious, it's just a thing to laugh about really (although I think that one probably happens the other way around more often lol)

Like idk whether I'll actually write more about it or not, but I also feel the need to mention that safewords obviously do have this potential for being a nice thing to base a more serious scene around and explore some heavier emotions, but it also gives them this rep in fic of always being this big, heavy thing when I think sometimes they aren't, like they don't always need to be accompanied by a massive breakdown, they can just be used casually to check if everyone is fine or to stop and do something else without it being the end of the world