#sorry for being too excited on threads

[xnxthinglastsfxrever]

//

[vuulpecula]

✖ alright alright alright. just popping in to say i miss y'all & i'm sorry for going radio silent. i received some new responsibilities and work and it's been draining me. hoping to be on this weekend to tackle some drafts, starters, and the inbox ! until then, i love y'all & i hope you're okay out there ! xo.

[awrkive]

[TEASER] CATCH YOUR WAVE (m) — JJK.

the last thing you expected when you strolled into your new school is to become the favorite project of the 5’11” tatted-up overly enthusiastic, golden-retriever-in-human-form PE teacher, jeon jungkook. he’s all goofy grins, bad math puns, and relentless charm, while you’re busy pretending you’re immune to his antics... spoiler alert: you’re not. and that infuriates you. 

alternatively, jungkook tries to prove that opposites don’t just attract — they collide. a classic case of one plus one equals: “oh, no. i like him.”

PAIRING jeon jungkook x (female) reader

GENRE r18+ (fuff, slight angst, mature content) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WORD COUNT ~15k (still working around the final wc)

TEASER WORD COUNT 1.8k words

WARNINGS/MISC teachers!au, pe teacher!jk, math teacher!reader, seven!jungkook, himbo!jk, coworkers!au (works in the same school), oc gets kinda mean sometimes but jungkook likes it lmfao, extremely corny pick up lines.. he tries 💔 2000s romcoms references (sorry) warnings for this teaser: nothing major. just bad math puns delivered by himbo jungkook :')

NOTES inspired by the whole “can she gaf me💔” vibes in the seven mv (by jungkook) and ultimately the click five’s song, catch your wave (hence the title🥸 pls listen to the song for the whole vibes hehe <3). ive been wanting to write himbo jk for awhile bcs all my jks are like … smart so far so i thought wait we need to change that. gahhhh im so so freaking excited ive been thinking about writing this ever ever since i wrote that one himbo jk drabble 💃🏼

[ CYW MOODBOARD ] • [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

RELEASE DATE 2025, FEBRUARY 15TH | 01:00 AM KOREAN STANDARD TIME (GMT+9)

They say life is a balance of good and bad days, and you’re not a pessimistic person, but sometimes enough is enough. How is your week already this bad when it’s just barely started? 

Sunday morning, when you picked up your laundry from the shop, you were too late to realize that you mixed not just one but two white underwear with the colored loads. You’d blame it on the fact that they were too tiny, too flimsy for you to notice. But you know you should’ve double-checked before putting them in the machine. And now you have lost two panties. And in this economy? That shit cost a ton. 

When Monday came and the head of the Math Department informed you there was a sudden shift in your schedule for the semester, it meant that instead of teaching three Algebra classes for tenth graders, you’re also teaching pre-Algebra for eighth graders, meaning you’re gonna have to cross the long walk from the high school building to the middle school one, the latter being all the way to the left wing, completely the opposite side of the right wing where the faculty room and your initial classes are. 

Today, you’ve woken up with your WiFi not connected to the internet (something you have to talk to your landlord about when you come back home) and just two minutes ago, you realized you forgot to take your coffee order with you from the cafe across your school building, the sad garlic bread you bought along with it staring right at you without its beloved beverage pair. 

Truthfully, it might be your last straw. How the hell is this happening to you out of all people? The semester is just starting, for god’s sake, and you’re already hanging on by a thread. 

You take a deep breath on your seat before standing up from your cubicle, heading to the coffee machine by the snack bar.

You hate the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep on stocking the pantry with, it’s too naturally sweet – and you don’t like your coffee with sugar. 

But you have no choice but to make do. The cafe’s too far out and your first class starts in about twenty minutes. 

“Good morning, Ms. Math Genius – ready to crunch some numbers today?” 

As if this day couldn’t get any worse, you shut your eyes close for a moment when you hear the familiar voice. 

You stir your coffee with downturned lips.

“Only if you promise to flex those brain muscles—” You say, turning to look to the side. Much to your expectation, it’s Jeon Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall with that usual faux suave he keeps on around you – which you can’t take seriously because his big doe eyes tell you a completely different story. He’s wearing some Nike dri fit shirt, one that’s too tight around his chest and accentuates a comparatively tiny waist that you have to force your eyes upwards. But as they do, they land on the biceps that are straining against the poor material. It wasn’t lost on you though that one second after, they’re suddenly flexing. You arch your brow as you glance a look on his face. “—as much as you flex those biceps.” 

Jungkook’s lips curl into a huge grin, expecting the jab. 

“You know it!” He chuckles, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m all about solving problems, and I’d say my favorite equation is you plus me equals a perfect start to the day.” 

You fight a loud groan from escaping your lips as soon as he says that, giving him a certain look before shaking your head and going back to your coffee. 

But you should’ve known better by now, because Jungkook – aside from being a PE teacher extraordinaire and every student’s favorite at that, Thee Football Coach, 5’11” tatted brunette with a long, fluffy hair paired with an objectively, annoyingly attractive face – is persistent. 

Most especially when it comes to annoying you. 

A few steps, and then you feel him getting closer to you. 

“Did you know that—” 

You roll your eyes. That’s it. If it’s another one of his corny math pick-up lines again you swear to god— 

“Jungkook, you don’t have to keep doing this everyda—” 

“—we’re like parallel lines?” 

“What.”

“Did you know that we’re like parallel lines?” Jungkook repeats earnestly, just like he always does. When he’s up in your personal space like this, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and your annoyance could’ve been justified if he smelled like shit but somehow, even though he looks like he just got back from a run judging by his running shoes and gym bag, he still smells… okay. 

Just okay. As in, you don’t care how good he smells like or how he smells at all.

You make sure to keep that thought at the back of your head. 

“No.” You say, hoping to dismiss the conversation right there as you pick up the cup of coffee from the machine, ready to turn on your heel, but then Jungkook laughs ever so slightly and gives your arm a barely-there poke.

“Come on, entertain me a little.” 

You squint your eyes at him. He challenges your stare with a growing smile on his face. Scoffing, you roll your eyes again before you put the paper cup back on the table. With a sigh, you cross your arms and look at Jungkook. For a split second, his eyes cast downwards to your chest level but he quickly snaps out of it. 

“Okay… we’re like parallel lines… why? Because we’ll never meet?” You say in response to his little request, keeping your tone impassive. 

Jungkook’s eyes slowly widen at your words, smile slowly dropping – as if the logic of your words have ruined one of his million pick-up lines again. 

“I– no! What? I meant, we’re like, always running to each other! Side by side. Parallel lines.”

“Okay… so still never meeting?” You ask impatiently, brows furrowing. 

Jungkook mirrors your confusion. Then, he raises a hand, one finger up. “One second. I’ll fix this–” he takes his phone out from his pocket, types on it quickly, lip jutting out as he reads whatever he’s looking up, and then, “Ohh, I might have meant asymptote lines. We’re like asymptote lines.” 

Your face contorts into even deeper confusion. Holy shit, you’re not dealing with this very early on in the morning, especially not after the circumstances of the past hours.

“Asymptote lines are more depressing than parallel lines if we’re talking metaphorically.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“I would hope I know my lines, Jungkook. I teach them everyday.” 

He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners cutely, and you hate how that tugs something at your heartstrings. 

You catch yourself right at that moment.

Jeon Jungkook is not cute. You keep in mind. He’s not cute. 

Jungkook thinks you’re so cute. Gorgeous, most of all, and unbelievably so. You and your signature furrowed brows and pink pouty lips.

As usual, you have your hair up in a clean bun today, and Jungkook can smell the lace of sweet vanilla from you as he takes a step closer to get a cup for himself. 

He loves the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep stocking the pantry with, it’s sweet as fuck. Just like how Jungkook likes his caffeine dose. Kind of like you, he thinks. 

Jungkook casts a quick glance at you again, can't really help himself when you're so pretty, although he makes sure to be subtle about it.

You’re wearing another one of your pencil skirts, one that he has to avoid staring at for longer than three seconds lest his mind takes him too far – but the upper view is even more of a torture, unfortunaly for him. Because as much as you wear the same outfit every single day and it should mean that Jungkook should get used to it by now, he can never be immune to your silk long sleeves, where you keep the top three buttons open – and as much as Jungkook tries to pry his gaze away from the exposed skin down from your neck, it’s like there’s a strange force in the universe that keeps him on it. Doesn’t really help that you like crossing your arms under your chest, too, making his mind run a mile per minute at the thoughts that form inside his head when a very apparent cleavage shows—

Alright. Damn. It’s like 8 am. 

And you were saying something about lines…

“Yeah? I hope you can teach me too, I need to—” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Jeon.” You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, taking your coffee with you as you head to the direction of your cubicle. 

The nickname makes Jungkook’s lips curl up. He probably shouldn’t smile, given that you only ever call him that when you want to cut the conversation with him short. But he can’t help it, it sounds sweet coming from your pretty lips. 

In an attempt to not look like a fool, Jungkook bites his lip as he watches your disappearing figure, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk away. Your legs look so long in that grey pencil skirt, and it really should be criminal how you look like that even when you’re just showing your back. 

In his trance, he forgets about the brewing coffee in his cup and absentmindedly takes it out while the machine is still running, the hot liquid pouring from the nozzle quickly burning the skin on his finger. 

“Oh, shit!” He hisses, jumping from the shock, almost knocking his coffee out but thankfully he manages to catch it on time, just as when another member of the faculty walks by the snack bar. 

With an awkward smile, Jungkook raises a thumbs up to Mrs. Lee. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. Looking rad as always.” He cheerfully greets, and Mrs. Lee’s confusion from seeing him fumble with his cup earlier quickly turns into a coo. 

“Oh, Mr. Jeon, you charming kid. I was just gonna get my cup of coffee.” She says, walking towards his direction. 

Jungkook adjusts the strap of his gym bag to his shoulder and takes a cup for Mrs. Lee with a grin, making her smile. 

She thanks him and with a playful salute, Jungkook goes toward the general direction of his cubicle, and because the PE department and Math department are just across from each other, he walks past you, typing something on your iPad before you look around and catch his gaze.

Jungkook automatically waves, smiling brightly, but you only frown, shutting your iPad close and ignoring him.

Amused, Jungkook tries to fight off a huge grin, taking a few long strides to get to his own cubicle. 

His day is already off to a good start.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2025. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and/or translating any of my works are not allowed.

[onlycosmere]

*In response to a meme about a tv show adaptation of a book being written by a writer who had not read the book*

Brandon Sanderson: I have a fun story here. Early in my career, someone optioned the rights to make one of my stories (the Emperor's Soul) into a film. I was ecstatic, as it's not a story that at the time had gotten a lot of attention from Hollywood.

I met with the writer, who had a good pedigree, and who seemed extremely excited about the project; turned out, he'd been the one to persuade the production company to go for the option. All seemed really promising.

A year or so later, I read his script and it was one of the most bizarre experiences of my life. The character names were, largely, the same, though nothing that happened to them was remotely similar to the story. Emperor's Soul is a small-scale character drama that takes place largely in one room, with discussions of the nature of art between two characters who approach the idea differently.

The screenplay detailed an expansive fantasy epic with a new love interest for the main character (a pirate captain.) They globe-trotted, they fought monsters, they explored a world largely unrelated to mine, save for a few words here and there. It was then that I realized what was going on.

Hollywood doesn't buy spec scripts (original ideas) from screenwriters very often, and they NEVER buy spec scripts that are epic fantasy. Those are too big, too expensive, and too daunting: they are the sorts of stories where the producers and executives need the proof of an established book series to justify the production.

So this writer never had a chance to tell his own epic fantasy story, though he wanted to. Instead, he found a popularish story that nobody had snatched up, and used it as a means to tell the story he'd always wanted to tell, because he'd never otherwise have a chance of getting it made.

I'm convinced this is part of the issue with some of these adaptations; screenwriters and directors are creative, and want to tell their own stories, but it's almost impossible to get those made in things like the fantasy genre unless you're a huge established name like Cameron. I'm not saying they all do this deliberately, as that screenwriter did for my work, but I think it's an unconscious influence. They want to tell their stories, and this is the allowed method, so when given the chance at freedom they go off the rails, and the execs don't know the genre or property well enough to understand why this can lead to disaster.

Anyway, sorry for the novel length post in a meme thread. I just find the entire situation to be fascinating.

[2kiran]

Hi‼️ lurker here‼️ just wanna say that your works are awesome‼️‼️ and that your dash always looks so cool and pretty every time I come around to check up on you‼️ your works are so good and you’re such a talented writer‼️

also… can I…can I ask for a tired reader being surrounded by a very demanding and needy 141? Like I’m not all that creative like the other anons but like I just really like the reader satisfying the 141s in any way his tired form can‼️ whether it’s by letting them ride his dick until they’re satisfied or having them being cock warmed as reader falls asleep‼️

sorry for this‼️ just thoughts and brain worms are weird rn and I thought that you would carry these out well… back to lurking now‼️

p.s. the ‼️ are just here to show excitement not to be scary or anything I’m sorry

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: bottom 141, top male reader, consensual somnophilia, cowgirl position, cockwarming, fingering, dividers

The weight of the missions and daily tasks being distributed made your limbs slack, eyes droopy, body boneless and desperate to pass out for even a week. You’re dozing off the second you sit down or rest against a wall, jerking awake when shaken by your mate. It isn’t your fault that you’re hardworking when needed, and everything was becoming a necessity to put your full attention on.

You need a break.

On the other hand, your team doesn’t seem to agree.

They’re clingy, more than usual. When you’re in a room with them, it seems as though their presence is the only thing that matters. Unabashedly acting like animals in heat, they’d sometimes even gently rut against your thigh.

Their excuse? You’ve been neglecting them, rarely glancing or facing towards their direction. Sometimes, you’d fail to acknowledge them in passing which evidently piles up their frustration and need to turn the source into the outlet.

And you’ll let them. They know you will.

Soap is the first one to snap. The man’s too needy for his own good. He can’t stop thinking about you, your hands wandering along his body, allowing him to take a sniff of pleasure before you’re shoving him away. But now? Now you’re doing it unintentionally.

He’s concerned, knowing damn well that he shouldn’t bother you. And yet, he can’t keep it within his pants. You’ll be good for him, right?

“Shit, tha’s it, love...” Soap groans, face contorting with blissful relief. He rolls his hips, desperate to feel every inch of your cock - the one that had him dreaming about it, waking up with his boxers damp, and hole twitching from being so empty - “Y’can get some shut-eye, ‘s alrigh’.”

You’re hanging onto your consciousness by a mere thread, the promise of slumber darkening the edges of your view while simultaneously heightening the sensation of slick, twitching warmth wrapped around your length. Small moans left him, thick brows knitted together in concentration.

Soap cannot remain still for the life of him. He sinks further down, enveloping you in his tight heat and squeezes you with it. His jaw hung open, mouth agape, and his thighs are quivering in a poor attempt not to fuck back against your cock with his desperate hole.

-

The second is Price. He may be a responsible and patient captain, but he’s still a man with lustful requirements. He needs to let off stream, you know?

“Hhang... that’s a good man.” He ruts his hips against yours, the plushy thickness of his scarred thighs rippling with each bounce. If you’re comfortable with it, he’ll take a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke slip through his teeth as a breathy moan rasps from his throat.

God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feel of you. Your tip meeting the spot that has him high with squelchy smacks, the scratchy stubble spread on his chin making the firm muscle of your shoulder raw whenever he angled himself forward to make you pound into him deeper.

Such a good soldier, you are. “Stay still, m‘fuckin’ close.” He huffs. Your cock twitches in response, and his lips curves in a self-satisfied grin. It has him riding you harder, rim taut, his pace fast and it makes the both of you dependent on chasing that point.

The Captain isn’t afraid to milk you for all you’re worth, either. It’s your own fault for making him needy. – “C’mon, you’ve got more in you, don’t you?”

-

Gaz is the next one. He heard your ‘interaction’ with the other men, smelled how Soap and Price practically reeked of well-deserved sex. It has arousal pool in his lower belly, dick twitching to life at the possibility of finally being satiated by you.

He’ll praise you for it; “Good boy, letting me use you like this.”, “Th-thank you, my love. Fuckin’ me so well.” and “Shh, I know. Go rest. I’ll just suck your pretty dick off, yeah?”

You think he’ll prep himself because you’re melting into the sheets to nap? No, you’re terribly wrong. He’d grip your wrist firmly, lubing your fingers up, and gently make them breach his tight hole. He gasps, immediately clenching from how intense it felt.

Gaz smiles fondly at how you seem to battle sleep, nodding mindlessly. When you do succumb to the urge, he’s biting his lip to contain his pathetic noises. You look so peaceful, and here he is fucking himself on your fingers. He’s holding onto your forearm, guiding you back and out. The murmurs of slick ringing through the room as he throws his head back.

“Fuckkk...” He’d mutter, fisting his own cock with rough jerks. Leaning down, he peppers kisses all across your jaw. He’s unbelievably turned on, rocking his hips to take in your digits completely. He’s getting desperate, but he will wait for you to wake up before he shoves your cock down his throat.

-

Ghost corners you. Sure, he’s got better self-control than the rest of the men. But hey, he’s still a human with very human needs.

Doesn’t matter if you’ve got a broader and hulking figure or a shorter stature, he’s guiding you with his frame until your knees hit the edge of a bed or a threadbare seat and your aching back is laying down. His mouth twitching in a mock snarl to have you submit. All with your consent, of course.

One of his favorite things to do to tease you? He loves to keep on asking you “This okay, luv?” and “Hmm? Y’want me to touch ya here?” until you’re begging him to finally fuck himself on your leaky dick that he’s been either playing with his roughened digits or warming with his inviting heat the entire time.

Rides you so slowly, hips rocking ever so slightly, and his soft walls pulse as they give way to your length. And it’s all to keep you awake, tightening up when you’re about to fall asleep on him. He wants you to be completely aware when he’s in the heights of arousal and he has you balls deep inside of him.

“Wake up, swee’art. Fuck– eyes on me, yeah, there we go.” / “Oh, you like tha’? Uh-huh? Good boy, you do.”

–

Or you have Price behind you, one of his arms slung around your waist as he thumbs at your slit until it’s coated in your pre. Soap’s tugging at your shaft, his fist enclosed and tight, consistent and oh so whiny like you’re inside of him. “Ye can fuck me harder, (rank), jus’ like this.”

Gaz on his knees, his tongue flicking at your sensitive veins. They’ll be toying with your cock as you lean back against the captain, letting sleep overtake you until you feel someone familiar climb into your lap. The other men supporting Ghost’s weight as he takes your dick in his skull-gloved hand, guiding the head to meet his rim and he sinks down with a low groan.

[errruvande]

Celebration

Pairing: Kang Daeho x reader

Summery: you had to celebrate the New Year in Seoul, for the first time in many years.

Triggers: PTSD, brief mention of blood

Author note: some random ass Korean names cause we need to call their made up friends somehow lmao

Word count: 2 882

It was yours and Daeho's first New Year celebration in Seoul, to the amusement of your friends, who were dying to celebrate it with you at least once in a lifetime. When the debts creeped in, fast and furious, you found it to be impossible to celebrate the holidays as you had been for a few years of your relationships. And both of yours families found it hard to have you in, after all of the rounds of debt collectors slamming their doors to scare them about your well-being. Your parents were equally scared and embarrassed.

Because of the debts, you could not afford to leave your apartments: parents would've not let you in their houses, and the renting prices even in the smallest villages were too high in that period for you to afford it.

When your friends found themselves too eager and excited about you staying in Seoul, telling you all of their plans for celebration, they were rapidly cut off.

"We will be staying at home all night." You said to your friend, studying the shelf in the store and trying to locate the red and yellow marks amongst the price-tags. You felt your friend pouting with your skin, the air between you two tensing.

"How can you stay home the whole New Year night?" She almost meowed at you in disbelief, putting a pack of mung beans in her cart. "What about the parties? We don't even have to pay to party, the streets themselves are partying! C'mon, you need to have some fun, it's New Year!"

"We'll be having fun at home!" The tone of your voice was unnecessarily harsh, you barked at at your friends without having the time to process your words, and had to look at her meekly. "I'm sorry for that..."

The noise of the supermarket went to the background while you were staring at the bean shelf, spinning around the memories of your only celebration in Seoul before you and Daeho started celebrating New Year in a countryside. Your hand twitched, squeezing the soft pack of fermented beans, as your face turned pale red and the unbothered firm line of your lips turned into a frown.

You shook your head and sighted, putting the beans in your small cart. "We won't be leaving the house, I'm sorry."

Your friends didn't know about Daeho's condition. He never told them and he asked you not to tell them too, he was too embarrassed of his panic attacks no matter how many times you tried to convince him that having them is not embarrassing and it absolutely do not makes him a lesser person. But you didn't need to be asked twice, so all of your friends just thought that both of you were respecting traditions and spending the holidays with your families.

Daeho popped out the living room, tinsels shining in his dark hair like glitter. The way he flew to you, jumping from the spot and sliding on the floor untill he bumped slightly into your body, laughing childishly, a few tinsels falling down his pretty face as he leaned in to give you a tender kiss through laughter. He picked up the bags and carried them to the kitchen, saying that whatever you'll make will be enough, cause he was with you and your presence alone will always be enough for him to celebrate anything.

"Sweetheart, I'm home!" You shut the door behind you, dumping the bags on the floor to take the clothes off. "It's not much, but I'd be able to make something for us to celebrate."

When he said he put his heart and soul into decorating your small apartment for the new year, he meant it. You didn't have a lot of new year's toys, tree balls and the lights, but he did what he could, grabbing a few (all that he could barely fit in his hands) spruce and pine branches from the little forest near your neighborhood and tried to make some arnaments, embodied it with red ribbons and threads. Daeho's hands were in glitter and glue, and now your face was shining too in the places he cupped your cheeks in to kiss you, when you walked into the chicken.

"One thing to go with the decorations!" Soft murmuring of his through your lips tenderized you and you mewled into his mouth pathetically, wrapping your hands around his shoulders tight enough to be able to press your entire body to his.

In one swift motion Daeho lifted you up, rewarding himself with your sweet laughter, and carried you to the tree you had in the living room.

"Take this." He tipped you lower over the little table, to the spot where the handmade star wrapped entirely in the shimmering red ribbon was lying on. You freed one hand from the hold onto Daeho's shoulder and took the star, smiling on the lights playing in the shimmers of the ribbon. "This spot is only for you, love."

He lifted you higher, making it easier for you to place the star on the tip of the tree. Once you put it securely, you felt the tear rolling down your cheek. Even in the hopeless situation like you had been in, Daeho still tried to find small things that would bring joy to both of you.

"You did a great job, sweetie." You looked down at him over the shoulder, sucking your lips in like a child seeing something pretty.

He pulled you down, twirling you around mid action, to see your face adorned with a beautiful smile he fell for a few years ago. You found his shoulders with your palms for balance, and when you felt the ground with your toes, you leaned forward, resting your head on Daeho's chest, the warmth of his body radiating through your cheek.

A few hours later, when a small festive dinner was made, the windows closed and sound proofed and the the zeros lined up on your clocks, you were ready to your own special fun time, when you heard the door knob threshing mad.

"On the New Year???" You tore yourself off Daeho's chest as you were lying on the couch, eyes round darting between Dae's tensed face and the door to your apartment. "Can't they let us be on a New freaking Year night?"

Daeho stood up, taking the first heavy thing he could put his hands on, and ran to the door, checking the guests though the peephole. You saw his posture relaxing as he opened the door lazily. It was your friends. Four of them. Jungheul and his wife Haeun, and Eunji with her new boyfriend you haven't had the chance to meet yet.

They piled into your house, their clothes white with the snow, laughing and talking loudly enough to give you both a mild headache.

"You guys are coming with us! It's not negotiable!" Jungheul wrapped his hands around Daeho and pulled him out of the apartment, asking his wife to bring his coat with her. The screams and arguing wasn't doing anything. The four of your friends were too stubborn and drunk to listen, Eunji's boyfriend threw you onto his shoulder and carried you out to the streets against your will, your screams and your fists beating his back a several times didn't help at all.

"Just stop it!" When he put you on the ground you smacked his chest hard enough for your own hand to hurt, but the guy just chuckled back, gutteral sound graving through you.

Daeho looked equally pissed off, but was too busy looking around frantically, his head turning left and right every time he heard a bunch of people laughing or screaming.

"Jesus, Daeho, it's just people having fun, what the fuck is wrong with you two?" Jungheul laughed merrily.

"There's nothing wrong with him!" You almost ganged up on him, but the sudden loud blowing sound caught all of you off guard. Your friends screamed joyfully and it seemed you were the only person seeing Daeho falling on the ground, face to the snow, his ears covered with his hands. His body tensed, as he was shaking uncontrollably, head bumping into the concrete road with the blowing sounds continuing from kids throwing off the firecrackers under other people's feet.

The one was lying just a few inches away from Daeho.

"Daeho!" You fell on the ground near him, cupping his head in your arms and trying to carefully lift it. "Dae, please, it's me!" When you were able to lift him into a seated position, he ducked his head down into his shoulders, hands still holding ears firmly. The last time he was shaking that bad was exactly the last time you've spent your New Year in Seoul.

With the firecrackers blowing around you, you had zero chances to calm him down. Daeho never lifted his gaze from the ground, his shoulders twitching on every blow, his feet sliding on the slippery concrete as he tried to cringe into the smallest of things, tugging his legs closer to his chest.

"What happened?" Your friends surrounded you, studying panicking Daeho as he was trembling. There was blood on his face from smacking it on the ground a few times, his lip was broken and the brow cut. "What it's like, a panic att-"

You didn't notice how fast you jumped on your feet, staring Jungheul right in the face, your eyes a pit with burning fire as you started yelling at him hysterically. "You either gonna help me or you can fuck off! I told you not to bring him here, but no, you know better!"

You collapsed back to Daeho, sliding your hands between his hands and face in a fruitless attempt to tear them off his ears. "Daeho, you need to listen to me, please."

Everybody went silent. You listen carefully for the noise that had died, the kids ran off to the next neighborhood carrying their firecrackers with them, only leaving the dust and smoked smell in the air behind.

"Dae, baby, they're gone, baby, please." You happened to tear one of his palm off his ear, clasping it in your palms and squeezing, and squeezing, and squeezing up untill Daeho noticed the pain in his fingers and looked at you. "They're gone, everything is fine."

His body still was stiff as a rock, every muscle tense and in agony. He wasn't fully back. You cupped his cheek, guiding his stare back at you.

"Dae, please, what do you see? Tell me what do you see?" You cocked your head on the side and dived down to his face.

"Y-you..." He breathed out barely audibly, after staring at your face for a few seconds. You nodded.

"Great, what else?"

"Eunji"

"Nice, what else?"

Daeho's lips were trembling with every breath, his eyes were moving erratically, trying to catch up on something, but his vision was blurred and his head hurting. "Street light, red car..." He hang his head loosely, staring down at his feet. "M-my boots."

You smiled, caressing his cheek tenderly with your fingertips, as he was slowly coming back to senses. "What you can touch?"

"S-snow" Daeho's arm fell down on the ground, scrubbing the thin layer of snow, snow creaking under his fingers. You looked in his eyes, nodding, waiting for the next thing. He knew this "game" all too well and started searching for the next thing. "I-I can feel you..." Daeho covered your fingers still caressing his cheek with his palm and squeezed them. He look down at your arm and hooked the hairband that was wrapped around your wrists firmly with his finger.

Daeho kept telling what he could feel, what he could smell and hear, his breathing was calming and puls slowing. You could see his eyes clearly, they lost the pale curtains of tears and fear, his lips stopped quivering as he looked around on the last "thing", the one he could taste. "Blood." He winced after tracing his lips with his tounge and catching the blood from broken upper lip.

You sighted, not being able to stop your own tears from rolling down, sanken on the ground without any strength. "Daeho..." You squeled, leaning forward to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and loosing yourself in his chest.

Jungheul and Jiho, that was the name of Eunji's boyfriend as you heard her whispering it to him when Daeho was shaking on the ground, helped Dae to stand up, catching him under the armpits, and led him back to the apartments.

At home, you made Daeho chamomile tea to calm him down fully, sat him down and immediately started treating his cuts, when your friends broke the silence with the cracking, apologetic tone.

"So.. ehm, this is why you're never here on New Year?"

You instinctively looked at them and then at Daeho, waiting for his answer.

"They're already know..." A barely a whisper. He quivered, the words getting lost in the air between you.

"Okay." You breathed out inaudibly, caressing his chin as you pressed the cotton disk soaked in antiseptic to his brow. You glanced over your friends with a sight. "We're going to countryside every year, because there's peace and quiet. You know Daeho was a marine, right?" You felt him squeezing your leg as you were starting talking about his military accident, his nails digging into your tight. You cocked your brows, but he only nodded you to continue, gulping down the ball of nerves. "He had an accident on the battlefield, and now he can't stress the sound that resembles the gunfire. It's called post traumatic stress disorder. So yeah, this is why we're never here on New Year."

For a solid minute all of them were dumbfounded. They were shifting from one leg to another, only nervous breathing audible in the room.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Eunji squatted next to you so Daeho didn't need to look up at her. "You should've told us, Dae."

His jaw started trembling again and you saw tears welling up in his eyes as he tried to speak but failed, only drawing a sharp breath in.

"It's alright, love." You shifted closer to him, embracing him and pressing his body to yours, his nose resting in the crook of your neck. "It's okay." Stroking his hair from the crown of his head all the way down to his shoulders you felt him meeking into your embrace, relaxing his posture.

"He had rather bad experience with telling people about his condition..."

"I didn't want you to think that I'm not normal, that I'm a sych..." He blurred out with his face almost completely wet. Daeho lifted his shoulder to wipe the wettnes from his face and looked at Eunji empty-eyeded.

"We don't think so, Daeho." Jungheul came closer, placing his palm on Daeho's shoulder and squeezing it hard, reassuring. "Can we help with it? Somehow?"

"Maybe stop dragging him out on New Year's night?" You teased them, but you didn't expect Daeho to chuckle.

The way his gentle laughter echoed in the half empty kitchen put everyone at ease.

"It's alright guys, thank you." He wiped out the rest of the face, looking at everybody. "Now, I'm glad you know, but..." He overlooked everyone and shared a gaze with you, the corners of his mouth curled up just slightly. "Really, don't drag me out on the New Year night from now on."

When Daeho put everyone at ease and the loud laugh thundered throughout the kitchen, your friends shared a look and swiftly ran towards the door.

"Don't you dare to start fucking, cause we'll be back in like, 15 minutes!" One of them shouted, closing the door behind the group.

"Stop laughing, I didn't finish with that." You murmured, guiding Daeho's head at your direction and pressing another cotton disk to his lip, soaking up the fresh blood that started flowing out of the wound again, after Dae stretched his lips in a genuine smile.

Fifteen minutes later, like a clockwork, your friends burst into your apartment, Daeho and you still sitting in the kitchen in a precious silence.

"We don't have much either, but you know," Jungheul put the bags on the table, immediately opening one of them and taking the homemade food out. "A thread from everyone bluh bluh bluh, huh."

With them taking food out of their bags the small kitchen table of yours became stuffed, with no place to drop a coin to.

"You know, when we said we wanna celebrate this New Year with you, we meant it." Eunji said with such softness in her voice, Daeho breathed out inaudibly, his jaw left quivering and tears welling up in his warm brown eyes.

As soon as you finished helping with the table, you sat yourself down on one of Daeho's legs, letting your friends take the rest of the chairs, and put a small, tender kiss on his temple.

That was yours and Daeho's first New Year celebration in Seoul, amongst your friends. Behind the soundproof windows and doors closed shut, but yet with loud buzzing, roar of your friends singing, laughing and telling old embarrassing stories.

Maybe it's not your last New Year in Seoul.

[svtiddiess]

Soft Serenity

Synopsis: Watching your boyfriend sleep is one of the best things in the world.

Pairing: Jeonghan x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, one shot

Rating: sfw

Word count: 529

Warnings: none! Lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Need me a Jeonghan right now ㅠㅠ

@tomodachiii I told you he'd get a happy ending! Now, please stop screaming at me.

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Safe. That's what you felt at the moment, in your boyfriend's arms as you watched him sleep. Streaks of sunlight peak in through the blinds, illuminating your boyfriend's face and making him look more ethereal than he already does. His blonde hair, which he recently dyed for the upcoming comeback, frames his face, truly making him look like an angel.

You smile at the thought of your boyfriend being known as an 'angel' among his fans when, in fact, he's quite the opposite. Not a day goes by when you're not dealing with the consequences of dating this angel-like devil. But you know for a fact that you wouldn't give it up for the world.

Ever since you met Jeonghan, every day has been an adventure. Even if most days you spend with him are at home cuddling, he somehow always manages to keep you on your toes, either through cheeky remarks or 'harmless' pranks. You can't imagine your life before you met him; it seemed so monotonous and bland, like something was always missing. And when you met Jeonghan, it finally clicked; he was the puzzle piece that was missing in your life.

You bring your focus back to the man in front of you. You gently use your finger to trace his beautiful features, careful not to wake him. You've always marvelled at how beautiful Jeonghan looked, even admitting to him that he looked more beautiful than you, to which he laughed and cooed, saying that to him, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

Your finger stops when you reach his lips, which are pouting due to his face being squished by the pillow. You'd never admit this to him, but you're addicted to his lips. You can kiss him for hours and still want more. The feeling of his lips on your skin always makes you shudder, even if it is just an innocent peck on the cheek. You lean forward to place a gentle kiss on his pouting lips, silently giggling to yourself.

Jeonghan's pout turns into a smile as he shifts to bring you closer to him, causing you to let out a small squeak. He then places a kiss on the corner of your lips before snuggling his face into your neck.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" You softly ask, moving your hands to thread them in his hair. He shakes his head.

"I've been awake this whole time," he mumbles into your neck, and you swear you can feel him smile.

"So you knew I was watching you this whole time?!" You could feel your cheeks heat up at the thought of Jeonghan catching you admiring him.

"You looked so happy, so I just let you be," he hums, "plus it felt nice."

"You're going to tease me about it later, aren't you?"

"Definitely."

You let out a defeated sigh as you continue to rake your fingers through his hair. With Jeonghan, there's definitely no winning. But with him, there definitely will be happiness, excitement, comfort, safety, and serenity. You feel him place a kiss on your neck, making you giggle softly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[jackoshadows]

Brandon Sanderson on why TV adaptations of fantasy works end up being so different to the source material:

I have a fun story here. Early in my career, someone optioned the rights to make one of my stories (the Emperor's Soul) into a film. I was ecstatic, as it's not a story that at the time had gotten a lot of attention from Hollywood. I met with the writer, who had a good pedigree, and who seemed extremely excited about the project; turned out, he'd been the one to persuade the production company to go for the option. All seemed really promising. A year or so later, I read his script and it was one of the most bizarre experiences of my life. The character names were, largely, the same, though nothing that happened to them was remotely similar to the story. Emperor's Soul is a small-scale character drama that takes place largely in one room, with discussions of the nature of art between two characters who approach the idea differently. The screenplay detailed an expansive fantasy epic with a new love interest for the main character (a pirate captain.) They globe-trotted, they fought monsters, they explored a world largely unrelated to mine, save for a few words here and there. It was then that I realized what was going on. Hollywood doesn't buy spec scripts (original ideas) from screenwriters very often, and they NEVER buy spec scripts that are epic fantasy. Those are too big, too expensive, and too daunting: they are the sorts of stories where the producers and executives need the proof of an established book series to justify the production. So this writer never had a chance to tell his own epic fantasy story, though he wanted to. Instead, he found a popularish story that nobody had snatched up, and used it as a means to tell the story he'd always wanted to tell, because he'd never otherwise have a chance of getting it made. I'm convinced this is part of the issue with some of these adaptations; screenwriters and directors are creative, and want to tell their own stories, but it's almost impossible to get those made in things like the fantasy genre unless you're a huge established name like Cameron. I'm not saying they all do this deliberately, as that screenwriter did for my work, but I think it's an unconscious influence. They want to tell their stories, and this is the allowed method, so when given the chance at freedom they go off the rails, and the execs don't know the genre or property well enough to understand why this can lead to disaster. Anyway, sorry for the novel length post in a meme thread. I just find the entire situation to be fascinating.

[solxamber]

Hellooo :]

Pomefiore, 6, hurt/comfort

I'm so excited to see what you come up with! <3

I have once again succumbed to vil, I'm trying to choose others for pomefiore but... vil...

Last Thread || Vil Schoenheit

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "Say that again" ; Genre: Hurt/Comfort

The argument had started small—a passing comment about your schedule, a critique of his relentless perfectionism—but it spiraled out of control before either of you could stop it.

"You're impossible sometimes, Vil," you said, your voice rising. "It's like you don't even listen to me!"

"And you think I’m being unreasonable?" Vil snapped back, his tone colder than you’d ever heard it. "Forgive me for expecting excellence!"

It stung, hearing that edge in his voice, like a blade cutting through the bond you cherished.

"Vil, this isn't about excellence. It's about you shutting me out and treating me like—like I don’t matter!"

He flinched, the sharpness in your words hitting their mark. You didn’t want to hurt him, but it felt like the only way to get through.

“I would never—” He paused, his hands trembling slightly before he crossed his arms to steady them. “Why can’t you understand that this is who I am? This is what I need to do!”

“Maybe I do understand, but I can’t keep standing here feeling like I’m walking on eggshells around you,” you retorted, frustration bubbling over. “I love you, Vil, but I cannot stand to be here right now!”

You grabbed your coat from the back of the chair and turned toward the door, your heart aching even as your hand reached for the handle.

“Wait.” His voice cracked, and the sound rooted you in place.

When you turned back, you saw something in his eyes you rarely saw: fear. True, unguarded fear. His lips parted as he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Say that again.”

You froze, realizing what he meant. His composure, the armor he wore so well, was gone. His violet eyes were wide, vulnerable.

You sighed, your heart softening as you stepped closer. Slowly, you cupped his cheeks, the tension in his jaw melting under your touch.

“I love you, Vil,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “But I need some air. I’ll come back. I promise.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your palms like he was holding onto the words, clutching them tightly in his heart. He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement, but you could feel the relief in it.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before stepping back and leaving, the air outside sharp and cold against your skin.

When you returned an hour later, Vil was sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His hair was slightly disheveled, and he looked like he hadn’t moved since you left.

The moment you stepped inside, he stood, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of anxiety and hope.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his voice firm but tinged with vulnerability. “For shutting you out, for making you feel like you didn’t matter. You do. More than anything.”

You stepped closer, setting your coat aside. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I needed you to hear me.”

“I hear you,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I can’t lose you. You’re the only person who sees me—truly sees me—and I…” His breath hitched as he struggled to find the words. “I need you.”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you closed the gap between you, wrapping your arms around him. He clung to you, his grip almost desperate as he buried his face in your shoulder.

“I’m here,” you murmured, running a soothing hand down his back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just held each other, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words and mutual understanding.

Eventually, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. “I’ll do better. For you.”

“And I’ll be here,” you said with a small smile. “For you.”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re my last thread holding me together, darling.”

“Then I’ll never let go,” you promised, sealing it with a kiss.

we like communication and peaceful argument resolution in this house

Masterlist

[sturnioz]

about the one where fratboy!chris doesn't let shy!reader meet his family I THOUGHT ABT SOMETHING

sooo imagine chris's mom otp while he's with reader then reader gets her hopes up thinking chris would somehow mention who he's with right now but he doesn't and it ends up into reader with hurt feelings and chris just being an asshole like it's no big deal

i lowkey wanna be hurt rn GIMME ANGST

you're staring wide eyed at chris, completely captivated at the voice he uses to talk to marylou on the phone — his tone soft and gentle, almost childlike, and he grins at the words she speaks, his eyes twinkling with warmth, causing a smile to creep across your lips.

it's a side of him you've never seen before, and you can't help but feel a flutter of admiration in your chest.

as he walks around his room, his phone cradled in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other, you're stuck watching how tenderly he engages with his mother. his expression constantly shifts between playful to genuine care and adoration.

"yeah, ma. everythin' is good," chris hums softly, placing his phone on the desk and pressing the speaker icon, allowing his mother's voice to fill the room. "classes are good too."

"and how is nick? has he been over recently?"

"y'know nick would rather die than come into the frat house—"

"oh, chris, you know i don't like you saying things like that to me. don't say that."

"sorry, ma," chris apologises sincerely, and you're taken aback by the softness in his tone. it's a complete contrast to the condescending way he usually speaks to you, often laced with sarcasm and mockery. the apology feels so genuine that it makes your heart flutter once more. "he doesn't like it here. prefers to meet up some place else."

"as long as you're seeing each other, that's all that matters," marylou says softly. "'cos your dad and i were worried that you wouldn't spend much time with him with your new living arrangements and all."

"no, no. we're good, we see each other a lot," chris reassures her as he pulls his jeans up his legs, threading his belt through the loops. "you don't need to worry, ma. i promise. we're actually goin' to get dinner tonight. nate's comin' along too."

you knew about the dinner tonight — though you weren't invited of course, you were all too aware of the plans.

"oh, nate," marylou coos softly at the mention of him. "and how is—"

her words are cut off when the book resting in your lap slips from your grasp and falls to the ground with a loud thud, causing chris' head to snap in your direction, momentarily pausing mid-motion.

he then grabs his plain white t-shirt, glaring at you as your lips form a tight-lipped, apologetic smile as you reach down to retrieve the book, your neck and cheeks burning with embarrassment. chris shakes his head at you with a quiet scoff, clearly unimpressed.

"is anyone there with you?" marylou asks curiously, her tone riddled with warmth and inviting.

your heart races as your head shoots up, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you. you take a deep breath, ready to introduce yourself properly, hoping to make a good first impression.

"no. just some dumb frat kid next door makin' noise." chris immediately shuts it down, his tone dismissive, and your smile immediately drops from your face, a wave of discomfort twisting in your stomach and chest.

the disappointment stings more than you expected, and you can't help but feel small under his words. you tune out chris and marylou's conversation now, the warmth you felt just moments ago fading into an ache deep within you. mindlessly, you flip through the pages of you book, the words blurring together as your interest in that simmers too.

you don't even realise chris is saying goodbye to his mom, using a sweet tone that would have definitely made you swoon if you were paying attention. you completely miss the heartfelt 'i miss yous' and 'i love yous' shared between them too.

it's only when you feel the bed dip that your attention snaps back to reality, and you raise your gaze to see chris sitting on the edge, pulling on a pair of white socks before reaching for his black converse.

"m'gonna get matt to take you back to your place," chris announces nonchalantly, as if his earlier words hadn't left an impact. "gotta go that way t'get nick anyways."

"'kay." you reply, trying to keep your tone light.

chris twists his head to peer over his shoulder at you, his fingers busy tying his laces. his brows furrow in confusion as he stares at you. "what?"

you murmur back, "what?"

"whats the matter with you?" he asks, annoyance creeping into his voice. "actin' all weird on me. quieter than usual—"

"why didn't you tell your mom i was with you?" the question slips out before you can even think to stop it, a mix of hurt and vulnerability lacing your words.

chris gives you a look that makes you feel foolish, as if you've just asked the most ridiculous question. "why would i?"

his bluntness stings again, and you feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you. it's not just the question that bothers you; it's the slow realisation that he doesn't see how much you wish to be acknowledged, to be part of his world in a way that feels meaningful — more than a casual hook-up, maybe even as a friend.

you swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "i just thought... maybe it would be nice, is all."

chris shrugs, turning back to his shoes. "s'not a big deal, kid."

"it is to me." the words slip out before you can hold them back again, a somewhat desperate plea for an understanding.

"why?" he asks immediately, looking back at you once more. "it shouldn't mean shit to you."

"you know my mom," you state. "you... you've spoken to my mom before, and—"

"'cos that was your choice, kid. yeah? 'n this is my choice," he points to his chest to emphasis his words, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race. "y'want me to tell my mom that i've got some girl in my room? have her question shit? nah... i keep my family life separate to what i do here."

his words hit hard. you understand his need for boundaries, but it hurts to feel so easily dismissed, and the ache in your chest deepens. you want to argue back, to make him see your side, but the words catch in your throat and you fall silent,

[judenostopwaitkeepgoing]

Your Villain Buys You Lingerie! 🌸

18+ MDNI | Suggestive Content | EN-released!Villains x Fem!Reader

CW: suggestive content, some mentions of power imbalances, some villains' descriptions are fluff-adjacent hehe

AN: These are the kinds of lingerie/sexy outfits that I think the villains would buy you! Enjoy! These fictional men are a problem for me! Hehe!

William Rex

Will would take your taste into consideration while also managing to select something that he likes. And he would spare no expense. We’re talking designer pieces here. Definitely in shades of red, black, maroon... dark jewel tones, of course. I’m imagining him at the store—the saleswomen absolutely falling in love with him while he describes the kind of sexy lingerie set he wants to buy for you. Would probably land on something that takes time to remove, like a full corset set. He’d want to enjoy the view for as long as possible!  

Harrison Gray

Harry strikes me as a man of simpler tastes. He would pick something cute and comfortable for you, because to him it does not matter what you’re wearing—you are always sexy! But seeing you in the mint-green matching bra and panties that he got you gets him unexpectedly flustered! He’d bury his face in his hand and sigh, “I know I got them for you, but I already want to take them off...” So you get to tease him for once for being such a perv. Win win!

Liam Evans

You know that this certified babygirl knows his way around a lingerie shop okay! He would honestly buy you cute and sexy lingerie all the time. Like you would have soooo many matching lingerie sets from him lol. You could wear a different one every night and not run out for months. He loves to dress you up all cute and sexy! He thinks you look especially good in shades of pink, but he buys you lingerie in every color/style imaginable. And when you put it on he gets flustered, even though he’s seen you in sexy lingerie so many times before. Sorry, he’s obsessed with you!

Elbert Greetia

Okay, talk about sparing no expense. You would have to go to all of the lingerie shops in town to tell them to turn Elbert away at the door next time he comes in because it’s fr starting to be too much lmao. He would of course listen to you if you told him that you don’t need any more lingerie, only handing you one more box. You open it to find gorgeous, handmade pale blue lace garters. “Look on the inseam of them,” he’d tell you. Embroidered on the inside of each garter with pretty blue thread is a message from him. “To my dearest y/n” on one and “a beauty for my eyes alone” on the other.

Alfons Sylvatica

Lol buys you a full black latex/leather dominatrix outfit. You stare at him incredulously and he just smirks at you. “What? You don’t like it?” Try as you might to explain that you don’t hate it, but haven’t worn something like this before, it does not matter! Lol! Alfons will coach you don’t worry! “That’s exactly the idea, y/n,” he’d purr, “seeing someone as innocent and pure as you in such a naughty outfit... the thought alone gets me so excited... see... look, I’m already hard...” Lmao.

Roger Barel

Although he can appreciate a woman’s beauty in pretty much anything, he doesn’t really see the point of lingerie lol. He’s just going to strip you! Why get so fancy? But the idea of you wearing something underneath your clothes all day that he picked out for you does turn him on. Like a secret understanding that you belong to him. He would pick out something simple and elegant, but racier than what you would pick out for yourself so he could enjoy watching you nervously adjust your clothes throughout the day to make sure no one caught a glimpse of what you were wearing underneath...

Victor

Haha, there’s no kind of lingerie out there that Victor wouldn’t want to dress you in! Corsets, teddies, matching bras/panties, G-strings, thigh-high stockings, crotchless panties... You name it, he’s already picked it out for you! You politely decline most of these items, which he of course doesn’t mind (though he’ll pretend to pout). But when he does manage to convince you to wear the cute see-through lilac nighty that he picked out, he can’t take his eyes off you. He’ll whisper compliments in your ear while he runs his fingertips teasingly over the sheer fabric... “Mm, I knew you’d look heavenly in this color.”

Jude Jazza

Buying you gifts has a dual benefit for Jude: he gets to see your reaction and it means you owe him lol. So you better believe that he’s grinning from ear to ear as he watches you unwrap the chastity belt that he bought you. The look on your face is a mixture of disbelief, outrage, and, you hate to say it, anticipation lmao. You know what this means. “The princess was getting so dirty askin’ for naughty gifts and all, so consider this the start of your Good Girl training.” The blood drains from your face and he just grins even more! Get ready! Hahaha!

Ellis Twilight

He would buy you a comfy but sexy black lace bra and panties set, which you love. He’s so delighted that you like the set, so he feels like you won’t mind the second part of the gift: black fuzzy handcuffs that match. He can tell that you get turned on as soon as he shows them to you. “y/n let’s try them out now, okay?” And before you know it you’re in the lingerie he bought you with your hands handcuffed to the bed above your head. “Mm,” he’d say appreciatively, “I want to keep you handcuffed and stripped like this forever, okay?” Buckle up! Lol.

[larcenywrites]

My Little Animal

Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW | rough sex | unprotected p in v | lots of foreplay! | biting (with tongue and fangs!) | collaring (Logan) | growling | smelling??? | calling Logan an animal (affectionately!!) | feral Logan??? | oral (F receiving) | Not really Dom!Reader but not exactly Dom!Logan either? | maybe the real Dom in this fic is just the love we made along the way :) | I guess I ended up using the taller hugh jackman version of wolverine for this sorry short king Logan 😔 | no real plot just lots of porn with an intro | some HCS for collaring here

Word count: ~2,400

A late night was normal around here, and a late night waiting up for Logan was hardly newsworthy. Neither were the heavier-than-usual drag of boots outside the door, nor the irritated huff after he closed the door a little too carefully.

Your eyes are drawn from the book in your lap to the larger man sitting on the end of the bed, back to you. Remaining silent, you watch him, his hand scratching through his beard and through the hair on the back of his neck. His tension is obvious in his movements, and more obvious in the tight muscles of his back as he pulls his white tank over his head, tossing it aside with a huff.

"Tough day?" You finally break the silence, trying not to let your tone hint at the longing in your eyes as you ogle.

"Always," he only replies gruffly, making you huff with an irritated amusement. You continue to eye him from your spot, deciding not to scold him this time for wearing his suit's yellow and blue pants on the bed. This time.

"I think you're just being dramatic," you softly tease, placing your book on the bedside table. With a disgruntled grunt of disagreement, Logan bends to work on getting his boots off, bare shoulders just inviting you to touch them. Shrugging the covers from your lap, you shuffle across the mattress to his seated form, eager to slide your palms over his heated skin. There's no reaction even when you nuzzle into his neck, the only sounds being the thump of boots being tossed aside and the rustling of fabric as he removes his pants. And those black boxer briefs didn't leave much to the imagination when he kicked the yellow and blue fabric aside, his flaccid bulge moving with his thigh.

You knew he could pick up your spike in arousal at the sight, and you could feel the elevation of his heartbeat when you hooked your arms under his to rest your hands on his chest. It was only when he felt your tongue on the shell of his ear that he finally reacted, a low growl vibrating through your hands and chest where you pressed against him.

That was really all you needed to know.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pulling away from his tense form. Instead, you roughly thread your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling more low rumbles from his chest. Like a grumpy ball of putty in your hands, he lets you push his head down, chin to chest. Just another little push, and he lowered himself, kneeling at the foot of the bed. He sighs heavily when you steal your touch from his hair, but it's far from one of relief. His cheek tilts your way as you shuffle over the sheets again, listening as you move back to the nightstand.

You can't hide anything from him. He knows which drawer you open. He knows what's in it. He knows what it means. Yet he still doesn't move when your hand pets over his neck. You could practically feel him bristling with excitement. For being so tense and stubborn, he always allows you to bind his neck with the collar. You wrap the brown nylon fabric around his throat with care, its gunmetal gray fastens jingling as you fix the buckle, keeping it loose just the way he likes it.

Wrapping a few fingers around the now-fitted collar, you carefully tug it up towards you, keeping his head down while your nails scratch over his scalp. Another soft growl makes you smile. Stepping off the bed next to his kneeling form, you drag his collar with you, the rough fabric sliding over his skin as you stand in front of him. You continue your petting, letting him adjust to his new headspace until he finally leans further into your grasp, nuzzling against your bare thigh and resting his cheek against your skin with a growly sigh.

"There's my little animal," you coo, tightening your grip on his hair and abruptly tugging the collar up, making him face up at you, your knuckles against his jaw. Logan's mouth parts in a silent moan, lip curled in a silent snarl. He narrowly eyes you through his lashes as your thumb pushes his bottom lip down and leans obediently into the rough petting on the side of his head. The pad of your thumb presses into the point of his fang and is met with his eager tongue, languidly lapping and swirling over the digit.

You take your hand from his hair to trace fingers over his lips, watching him close his eyes in ecstasy as he laps at your other fingers. Tongue and lips press against your palm in a sort of kiss before fangs gently bite into the soft flesh between your thumb and finger. You know they're just itching to get that tension out, and what better way than guiding that bite down to your thigh. He eagerly latches on, exploring the skin of your thigh with scraping fangs and long licks while bringing his hands to hold the backs of your thighs in a bruising grip.

You can't help but finally moan at his feral-ish nature, holding onto the back of his collar while threading through the thick curls on the back of his neck, encouraging more of those sharp nibbles and wet trails drifting closer to the inside of your thigh. He can't help but taste the softer skin beneath his tongue several times before sinking his teeth in just a bit harder, growling low in response to your moan.

Your grip on his hair tightens in surprise as he noses against your panty-covered clit, cheeks feeling flushed at the sound of him inhaling the scent of your arousal straight from the source. Fangs press ever-so-gently into your mound as his tongue finally meets your sensitive bud, swirling over the fabric and massaging deeply the more the mix of his saliva and your slick dampened the thin material that hardly kept you separated.

You desperately clench around nothing when he pulls back, teeth bringing your panties with him as his fingers tightly grip around the band and impatiently tear them from your legs with ease. There's no time to think about scolding him before your knee is forced onto his shoulder, falling into an awkward angle against him as his lips devour you again.

"Oh fuck, Logan," you sigh, only able to claw at his shoulders while firm hands pull you into him. His hot breath fans over your sensitive flesh as he practically pants, cleaning up the arousal pooled at your core and his nose bumping against your clit. The only noises in the room are your mixed panting and the crude lapping sounds from between your legs, supplemented by the low, warning growls every time the prickle of his beard causes you to twitch away. The same prickling friction that drags through your folds as his tongue meets your clit again, leaving your legs trembling in his grasp with every swipe. He knows you're close-- he can smell it, hear it in your whimperish panting, feel it in the way you try to grind on his tongue. It only spurs him on, tilting his head against your thigh as if to settle in while he pushes you closer to the edge.

It isn't long before your nails dig into his hair and pull him closer, and your legs awkwardly tensing and closing against him as you finally come on his tongue. He laps deeply at your over-sensitive bud several more times to ride you through it before attacking your entrance again, drinking your essence like a starved animal. Every brush of his beard and nuzzle against your clit becomes far too much to keep handling as he continues, but there's no escape from his grip on you. Wrapping your hand around the collar, you try to tug him away, only met with a deep rumble that borders between a growl and a moan, hot breath fanning over your core again. He was as stubborn as he was greedy, knowing well that he was far too strong for you to pull him away, especially from between your legs. Maybe he even enjoyed the rough material of his collar threatening to choke him.

"Logan, please," you plead breathily, thumbs hooked around the collar. As if to make a point, he deeply laps at you several more times before turning to sink his fangs into your thigh in aggravated obedience with a low growl that gently rumbles against your skin. He keeps his teeth in your leg even while you lower your knee from his shoulder and holds onto you while you recover for the moment. But only for a moment.

The sharp prick of fangs finally leaves your thigh, only for them to brush across your tummy with a wet lick as he nuzzles under your shirt. Your fingers brush over the tense hands that grip your thighs, feeling those claws flex beneath his skin, naturally responding to their owner's pent-up emotion and energy in the only way they ever knew how. He's obviously still unsatisfied, raging to let loose. You're jolted from that thought as he bites into the soft side of your waist, licking over his bite in a soothing way. Helping him out, you slip your shirt over your head, tossing it aside like every other piece of clothing. Without a word, he gets to his feet, taking it as his cue to lick his way between your breasts and into the crook of your neck.

He roughly pulls your hips flush to his, his chest practically heaving from the deep inhale he takes from where he stays buried in your neck. He's never been one for subtleties, especially not when those hips start to hungrily rut into yours, and his hard-on, hardly hidden in his briefs, is straining for attention. Grinding with him, you hook your thumb beneath the burlap brown band as your fingers tangle through the dark locks of hair on the back of his neck.

"You're not very good at this taming thing," he finally breaks his silence with a cocky grumble, pressing his lips to your cheek. At his comment, your hand wraps around the front of his collar again, knuckles to his throat.

"Good thing I don't want to tame you," you softly sass back, turning to meet his lips and tracing them with your tongue. He shows off his fangs with a low growl, grip tightening on your thighs before he roughly hoists you up to wrap around his waist. It's only seconds for him to spin around and plant your back on the bed, his much heavier form coming down with you, wasting no time to ravish your throat with sloppy kisses and lovebites.

You can only tilt your head back and moan softly to the ceiling, much to his purr of approval as he continues his assault, even while awkwardly shuffling between your legs to rid his too-tight boxers. You know he's finally done it when the heat of his cock presses at your entrance and a hand pushes a thigh aside to give him more room to work with. Despite still being soaked from your romp just minutes ago, he's still not the easiest fit when he pushes into you, mirroring you with lips parted in a silent moan and eyes screwed shut. Even with the sting of your nails in his bicep, he keeps sinking into you, giving you no time to adjust to the pleasurable burn of him filling you to the brim.

Cock sitting heavy against your cervix, Logan grinds you into the mattress, nestling back into your neck tongue first. Muscular arms cage your legs against his hips and his fists wrap into the sheets as he instantly ruts into you like an animal in heat. Once again, the only sounds filling the room are whimperish moans and heavy panting being outshined by the lewdness of how wet each thrust of his cock and each slap of his balls sounds against your soaked heat.

Hot breath fans over your skin with a low rumble when you pull at his hair, the growl vibrating from his chest through yours and only adding to the growing tension in your core. He lifts himself when you tense around him, bowed up above you as if in concentration and chest heaving with his wild panting. You look up at him through your lashes, a few dark strands hanging over his forehead and loose collar hanging over his collarbones. The sight alone could send you close to the edge, already throbbing around him, but you needed him close again.

Dark eyes flicker to you at the feel of your hand on his chest, playing through the thick body hair there before wrapping around the burlap brown band hanging from his throat. He obediently lets you pull him down with the little strength you have left, his own hips faltering as you pull his face into your chest. He moans low, tongue lolling against your skin as he picks up the pace again, hips stiff and fists tight around the sheets. He's just as close as you are, but his deep and well-aimed thrusts are determined to get you there first.

He can smell it, hear the soft whines from your chest and feel your legs squirm under his arms, and groans deeply at how tightly you clench around his cock and hold his face to your chest as you come around him. His steady pace finally slows, stilling as deep as he can within you and cumming with a low growl. He keeps you caged and pressed into the mattress, panting hotly against you. Your fingers gently play with his hair while you come down, other hand still holding onto the collar while he gently nuzzles and rubs his face between your breasts, as if you didn't already smell like every part of him.

After several moments, he finally lifts himself from you, pulling out from your messy core and wasting no time going down on you, savoring the mixed scents of your essences and greedily cleaning you up. With a gasped-out moan, you tug desperately at his hair, only being answered with that possessive growl that means he isn't letting you go anytime soon.

[n0tamused]

Hello, can I ask you about Wuwa men with a reader similar to Acheron from HSR? I mean also suffering from such a blessing, loss of taste, colors and memory 🥹

A/n: Sorry for the small wait! I do hope you enjoy this mixed bag of everything lol, I was a bit around the place and yapping. I haven't been able to play WuWa since this summer due to storage problems so these were written with the knowledge I have from the older versions lol.

Contents: Jiyan/Aalto/Xiangli Yao/Mortefi/Calcharo x GN!Reader(separate) that is like Acheron, fluff, comfort, a bit of angst, not proof-read, some of these are shorter than the others as I wasn't feeling particularly motivated for them all equally, sorry

Ko-fi

Jiyan

-It does not take too long for the General of the Midnight Rangers to catch on to your odd persona, “odd” is not the word he’d use, but with the lack of a proper terminology to describe his feeling with the initial encounter he has not much choice but to use it

-He is wary of you, but not unkind, as he usually is with newcomers that seemingly do not visibly come in blazing and wishing to oppose him and all he stands for

-There is a sense of understanding about him when it comes to you, he can practically sense the emptiness that surrounds you and that deep look in your eyes tells him that there is much more to you, something both dangerous and intriguing. Some time may pass before it becomes a routine of sorts to converse with you on a regular basis, and when it also becomes a habit for you despite your fading memory.

-Jiyan never held your weak memory against you, it was one of the things that pointed to something else that he wished to uncover through your blossoming relationship. Even if that thing stood alone as a characteristic of your, he was already enraptured by you, he wanted to help you where he could

-In private and with intimate relationships, Jiyan can be a man of fewer words than when he is on the battlefield with so many eyes on him. Being General means being a performer to a certain extent as well, but with you he can just leave that stage and be himself

-With someone who has lost the sense of taste and the eye for color he tends to hold onto some thread of hope that you’ll be cured of it, be it by his hand or someone else’s. He watches your movements and your mannerisms for any sign of improvement and gets rather excited if he ever spots some, even if it may not be a really big deal to you or anyone else. 

-Jiyan doesn’t share the same condition as you, but he understands the feeling of losing something and someone. He knows what it feels like to be adrift without a clear direction. So, he might silently mourn the fact that you can no longer enjoy the small things like colors, tastes, or memories, because he’s had his own form of loss and he felt the pain on his own skin. What he can do is try and dull any pain you might feel, or distract you from it, although he genuinely hopes you are not in pain at all.

-While you may forget past conversations  or dates, forgetting such things for Jiyan is a scarce event. He holds every memory close to him,  especially if he finds himself far away from you, on distant battlefields where he can only hope you haven’t forgotten about him. But there is also a poetic way to his thinking when it comes to this - if you do, in fact, forget him, he can always start again. He’d never tire, and he’d keep doing it all as long as you’d let him. 

-He does leave notes for you around the house that can be quite detailed depending on the context, hoping to help you with the daily routine even while he is away from you. 

-Though your memories are gone or fading and your senses have all but dulled, Jiyan would help you rediscover joy in small, often overlooked things. While you can't taste food anymore, he might make it a habit to cook you a meal, hoping that somehow you can still feel the texture or the warmth of the food, and there’s of course the health aspect to it too. And while you can't see colors, he might describe the world in such detail that you feel as though you're experiencing it through his eyes. He also helps you with your outfits if you ask him to! He may not be some fashionista but he can be of good help. In winter he does tend to mother you a bit, telling you to always dress warmly even if you may not feel as cold.

-If he ever came to see you use your “blessing” in combat, he’d be shocked, then in cautious awe. If anyone understands that great power comes with a great cost - it is him.

-You may hold power to move mountains, but Jiyan would always be there to jump in first and protect you.

Aalto

-Aalto would have come to know you through all the various branches of information he perches on, he knew you before had met you in person, but that does not erase his unending curiosity and skepticism

-He is tactical yet unassuming in his approach to you, stepping carefully to see where you stand with him. He is quick to adjust if need be, as in the end, the last thing he needs to happen is you marking him as your enemy and possibly wiping the floor with him

-As mentioned, he does approach you with a certain curiosity, he is guarded and cautious. He has heard and read so much about you but to him this concept of being “blessed” in such a way by an entity unheard of in the whole world is strange at best. There was so much yet so little, at times he was unsure what to think

-Aalto is a whimsical fellow, as we all know, but that is a part of his own public persona. No one would really suspect such a guy of any ulterior motive, and it is a character that has bought him a way into so many places

-It comes as a bit of a surprise to him when he meets you next time and you don’t seem to remember him or parts of your prior conversation. He is questioning whether this is done on purpose to send him a signal you are not interested, but soon he does realize that it is really something serious and not done of your own violation

-Aalto is used to navigating difficult situations with tactical precision, and he prides himself on his ability to control and influence outcomes. However, when faced with someone like you- someone whose condition is so profound and deeply entrenched- he might feel a sense of helplessness. His usual methods of fixing things or controlling situations wouldn’t work on you. He might even feel frustrated by his inability to do anything tangible to heal or help you reclaim you’ve already lost

-But with that being said, Aalto would definitely try and help you in the later stages of your relationship to look for some cure, or at least something to lessen this curse. Even at the start he may point to some cures you can try out. It is not an easy thing to live with and it certainly is not comfortable either. He may not completely understand it, even with the abundance of information he has, it is still unknown territory, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. He never appears too stoic however, and likes to keep a lighthearted tone around you in hopes that at least his jokes and laid back demeanor can keep you calm and entertained, even if for a while, even if you’ll forget eventually

-Aalto would want to bring you “back to life” in some way, but his methods might be a bit unconventional and rather bold when it comes to it. Rather than using gentle persuasion like Jiyan, Aalto might  try pushing you more directly, testing your limits, teasing, and seeing how far he can go to provoke a reaction.  He may put salt instead of sugar in your food and hope you notice and scold him for it.

-This could come across as both intense and a bit intrusive at times, like a water that’s just about to burst with a boil, but it’s never done out of malice. He’d never do something that would cause you harm. He’d  just want to know if there’s any spark left in you, any piece of yourself that could be awakened, and if there’s even a small sand-sized spark, he is more than willing to put all his efforts out to make it shine brighter

-While initially, Aalto might be driven by curiosity and perhaps a need for control, over time he might develop a deeper, more nuanced understanding of your condition. He would begin to realize that there’s no quick fix, no immediate solution or cure for you, and that the journey to healing is one that requires time and patience. This does make him soften, in a rather sad way in which he has to eventually accept this no matter how much he wants to keep fighting for you

-But he is more than willing to be patient, holding that hope at the back of his mind instead of making it his very sole goal. He understands that watching him jump from place to place can also be exhausting for you to see.

-In terms of your memory loss Aalto would take lots of pictures, although sadly not many would include him due to his work, but there would be his handwriting on the back of printed pictures and silly doodles as well, some also done by Encore who has grown quite fond of you

-He leaves flowers for you. After a time he also bought you a plastic potted plant, just so you can have something that lasts, as the last time he bought you a real potted plant it didn’t really live long

-He jokes about it, but he never took it to heart lol he is chill

Mortefi

-It is a bit of a lucky strike of fate that brought you two to meet, considering Mortefi doesn’t exactly go out of his way to meet new people. It would probably be Baizhi or some other that brings you to the Academy, and that is when he’d first get a sense of something different, that void that followed you like a shadow

-It is unclear to him whether this is something he is imagining or if it was something real, but as it is not exactly his field of research, he does not pursue his twinge of intrigue from there

-That is until Baizhi brings it up in conversation at a later date, something about this anomaly in your being, something that went beyond simple ailment of health. It puzzled her. And that conversation with Baizhi did leave a lasting taste in his mouth for days to come, even if Baizhi did not reveal anything confidential to him or anything concrete. 

-When he meets you eye to eye he does question you a little bit about what you’re doing at the Academy again, and a conversion flows from there on out as you wait for Baizhi to come and check on you again. He wasn’t the warmest of people to converse with, but he was cordial and didn’t leave you alone in the middle of the Academy. He could tell from your mannerisms and from what you told him in the conversation that you didn’t exactly.. know what’s going on, and by that he also figured out your memory wasn’t the strongest. You made mention of getting a message from Baizhi that very morning, a reminder for you to come in, and he may have snuck a peak at your phone and saw there was more than one reminder before that one. It was a brief glance

-After your checkup, he does coincidentally meet you in the halls again and asks you about it, seemingly a little more softer but still blunt and hardy on the outside 

-Mortefi wouldn’t be the type to offer overly emotional comfort. His understanding of loss or suffering would be intellectual rather than empathetic. He has lost a lot in his life as well, but he has always been forced to suppress his feelings, which led to outbursts somewhere later down the line.  However, his form of sympathy wouldn’t  be wholly detached but rather perceptive. He would sense that your condition is more than just a physical or psychological issue- it’s a fundamental disconnect from the world and your own spirit

- He might not express his sympathy outwardly, but there would be moments when his cold demeanor falters, and he would quietly acknowledge the sadness of your condition, even if he doesn’t directly verbalize it. He grows fond of you, and he takes a while to realize it too. He doesn’t want to believe it at first either - it is simply not logical to him, it doesn’t make sense, and intimate relationships always came hard to him anyway

-Mortefi would offer to make something for you that would help you with remembering things, he would even try to craft a special pair of glasses that would allow you to see colors, a special candy that would allow you to taste certain things..etc. He would try whatever his imagination would bring up, and it wouldn’t be rare to catch him staying up at night, trying to realize this idea into reality

-The loss of memory might fascinate Mortefi the most. He would be intrigued by how a person can live without the things that form their identity. If you think about it, everyone is just a well of memories which form not only their person, but their approach to the world around them. That includes Mortefi as well.  If you don’t remember your past, it could mean you’re an empty vessel- a blank slate and therefore easily impressionable, in some way or another. He sees this as risky, so Mortefi may become rather easily irritated, or even anxious in some way, if you stop responding to his messages or if he hasn’t seen you in some time. 

-Could be that you just forgot to text him… but that doesn’t stop him from worrying 

-He may get a little irritated at you forgetting certain things or being late to appointments and such, but he understands this isn't done by your own choosing, so his anger is redirected at things that actually deserve his anger

Xiangli Yao

-Sweet Xiangli Yao, although when he meets you, and you're no more than another stranger to him, he still feels a sense of empathy for you. However threatening and dark that sense of emptiness that surrounds you is, it is just that which draws him in. Could he make it disappear? 

-Xiangli Yao’s first reaction would be one of deep empathy. He is someone who feels others' pain deeply and would immediately recognize the gravity of your suffering. The loss of your senses and memory would weigh heavily on him.

-Of course, at the start he does not know all the details of you situation, he is quite hopeful and eager to help in whatever way he can, so when he finds out this was put upon you by a power higher even than of the sentinel, it is safe to say he feels a bit hopeless. His mind comes at a stop, like rusted cogwheels that he desperately tries to get moving again. Creaks and squeaks are all he gets in return for a while

- His first instinct would be to reach out to you, not just to understand your condition but also to offer support, even if he doesn't know how to fix things right away

-Unlike other people who might approach your condition with curiosity or detachment to satisfy their own curiosity, Xiangli Yao would actively search for ways to help you heal or regain some semblance of the things you've lost. He would likely spend time learning about your condition, asking you about how you feel or what you remember, even if your memory doesn’t work the same way. His compassionate nature would drive him to research ways to restore or help you find balance in a world without your senses and memories

-Given his ability to read people and understand emotions on a deeper level, and with him being made of a rather soft and nurturing nature, Xiangli Yao would be sensitive to how you’re feeling. He’d be able to pick up small cues and mannerisms you may display, reading you like an open book

-Even if you don't express your emotions outwardly due to your condition, he would be able to sense the subtle cues - whether it’s the way you carry yourself or even your tone of voice when you speak. This is even more amplified the more time you spend together with each other. In either case, Xiangli Yao would adapt his approach accordingly, offering emotional support without pushing you to confront anything you're not ready for 

-Xiangli Yao's sense of duty and his protective nature would kick in when he realizes the extent of your condition. He would be willing to make sacrifices to help you - whether it’s giving up his time, his resources, or even putting himself in danger to find a cure for you. You may be able to protect yourself, but if he can avoid putting you in a situation where you're forced to do so, he'd do just that. He'd rather be the one fighting than let you fight 

-His deep belief in looking out for others, especially those who are vulnerable or hurting, would mean that he would go to great lengths to make sure you’re taken care of, even if it means putting his own needs aside

-Xiangli Yao’s care for you is gentle and affectionate in subtle yet really warm ways, but he would respect your boundaries. He wouldn’t overwhelm you with his affections, but he would express his care in small, meaningful gestures like sending you sweet messages through the little robot he makes for you, and in the same manner he’d send you voice messages too. Similarly to Jiyan he might take to a habit of leaving notes around the house and little treats as well. Even if you can’t taste them, he hopes you’ve enjoyed the little game of hunt for them

-If you'd allow him, he'd hold your hand as you walk around as he tells you about streets you've passed through before if you've forgotten. He'd quietly remind you of the names of others if you need the help and he'd never put you in a situation that would be embarrassing for you, that's the last thing he wants you to feel, especially since this curse is not something you would've wished for if it was up to you. Sure, it gives you great power, but at what cost..? Is it really worth it?

Calcharo

-When first learning of your suffering, he might simply nod, his face calm but with a subtle furrow in his brow. He wouldn’t rush to comfort you or find out more immediately, but instead, he would want to assess whether your condition is something that can be cured or if it's just part of who you are now, or if it something that threatens his work. His mind would be working quickly, formulating potential ways to help, but he would remain quiet, choosing his words carefully

-Despite his stoic nature, Calcharo would feel a strong sense of responsibility toward you, especially if he perceives you as vulnerable. He might not openly show his concern, but he would take steps to ensure that you are protected and taken care of

-Calcharo's emotional distance doesn't mean he’s cold or indifferent to your suffering. He’s simply more reserved and slow to let his guard down. However, as he sees your struggle, a quiet protectiveness would begin to form. He is not emotionless, he’s just buried his hard deep into his duty and deeper still

- He would keep his distance in terms of expressing emotions, but he would become more protective of you, watching your movements, ensuring that you don’t push yourself too far, and subtly stepping in when you need help. He does have eyes and ears everywhere, and may give some of them the task of keeping an eye out for you if he is in a situation where he can’t lend you his supports, due to his missions and duty

-While he may understand quite early on that the power you possess may go over the limit of his own imagination, he would step in to take over instead, telling you to go and wait for him elsewhere. He is rather gruff yet coldly calm in his command to you, he does not play around with work, and especially when it comes to you

-Seeing as he has a..demon of his own, he would come to compare your two conditions over time and correlate them as well, growing a greater understanding of you even if the two conditions don’t equal one another. He can only use his own knowledge to try and understand your experience, and that is the only way he knows

-As mentioned, Calcharo is quite stumped emotionally, he has a hard time expressing himself, so vocally you shouldn’t expect much from him, but if you need any work done, he is your guy

-If he doesn’t know how to do xyz, he most definitely knows another guy that does! Must be magic/j. That being said,his love language is definitely acts of service 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[cimmanonrowl]

dbf!hotch where you have to be quick n quiet bc your parents are next door, and he's only staying for one night. heavy w the smut and tension 🤭

So It Goes...

It was summer break from University and you were home to spend time with your parents. And maybe Aaron was just as clingy as you because you woke up one morning with him in your room, admiring you in your sleep. And the night you spent together didn’t disappoint either.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, secret relationship, sweet dom!aaron, sneaky, unprotected sex, cowgirl, creampie, gagging, oral (f) receiving.

The soft, feather-like touch on your cheek pulled you from the depths of sleep. The caress was gentle, almost ghostly, yet enough to rouse you even if you were unconscious.

“There she is…” you heard someone say; a familiar deep voice, soft and whispery. “Good morning, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered open, groaning lightly to yourself, while the hazy remnants of sleep gave way to early morning light filtering through your bedroom drapes. Someone’s warm hand still rested lightly on your face, occasionally rubbing your cheek with the back of their fingers. And your heart skipped a beat as you became fully aware of the presence, with the uncanny feeling of being watched.

“Aaron?” you grumbled, confusion threading through your voice. 

Blinking away the blur of sleep, you slowly whipped your head to the side. Only to be greeted by a sight that almost instantly knocked a breath out of your chest.

You rubbed your eyes quickly, half expecting him to vanish, a figment of your frail imagination. But he was still there, smiling softly at you, his eyes crinkling at the very corner. His affectionate gaze narrowed down on your face alone, full of tenderness that melted away any lingering drowsiness in your brain.

“Aaron? W-what— what?”

“Hey…” he murmured, chuckling a little as he saw your baffled reaction, his voice deep and soothing as always. “I’m sorry, I just... I couldn’t wait to see you."

Your heart warmed with a mix of joy and confusion, but also a pang of worry. How did he even manage to sneak into your room, you don’t know. But here he was, tucking the stray strand of hair behind your ear, staring back at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. It feels surreal, like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, voice still groggy and croaky from sleep.

You know for sure that you look like a mess. Maybe with a drool at the corner of your mouth, or a trace of sleep in your eyes. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Aaron was looking at you like this, not when all you see is love and longing, not with the fact that your parents must be somewhere downstairs waiting for you both to come down and join them for breakfast.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound of a sweet melody to your ears. “I missed you,” was all he said, as if that explains everything. 

And knowing your boyfriend, maybe it does.

You reached up, your hand covering his on your cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “I missed you too,” you admitted, “But how? Where’s Dad? Mom? How did you get here?”

You kept glancing towards the door after your question, imagining it to burst open at any moment; your father with a rifle in his hands, your mother crying behind him. You shuddered at the image; it was surely exaggerated, and not exactly how you planned for them to know your relationship with Aaron.

“They went out to the local market,” he explained shortly, frowning as he noticed the worry lines on your face. “They’re buying meat and groceries for their anniversary party later. Your Mom told me to get some rest instead of helping them; saw my chance and sneaked in.”

Just with what you heard, relief and excitement coursed through your veins. So you’re here all alone with Aaron, and the house is silent and empty. You can’t help but feel a thrill at the audacity of it all. “We still have to be careful,” you said, although your voice carried a hint of anticipation.

Aaron’s smile turned a bit more mischievous, his fingers tracing a gentle line along your jaw. “I know, princess,” he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But right now, it’s just you and me.”

“Oh?” your eyebrows perked as you picked up the insinuation. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

The smirk on his face grew at the challenge. And his touch lingered, the warmth of his hand spreading through you. His eyes darkened with desire, and you feel a similar heat rising within you.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is not to touch you while you sleep?”

You snorted. “Oh, shut up. Bet I look like a troll.”

“Hey, don’t speak to my girlfriend like that,” he scolded lightheartedly, pinching the side of your stomach. “You always look like an angel.”

You tried hiding your blush with an eye roll.

There he is again with his confessions; sweet, little words dripping like honey in this early morning. With Aaron, those words never felt forced, never felt like an empty expression. Maybe it has to do with the way he says it, or the way he never tore his imploring gaze away from you, or maybe you trust him so much that you willingly listen to everything he says. With no complaints. No doubts.

Aaron leaned in slowly, “I’ve missed you so much, baby. My bed feels empty without you.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Aaron.”

He frowned as if that insulted him, his thick eyebrows tugging together. “Your point being?”

“You’re clingy,” you laughed in amusement, tipping your face away from him, avoiding his lips that kept chasing yours.

A firm grip on your hip stopped you from moving.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, a confused frown still plastered on his face. “I’m trying to kiss you.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“And do I look like I care?”

“Ew,” you scrunched your nose to feign disgust. “Really, love?”

“Sweetheart, I eat my own cum as it drip down your ass. Do you think—”

You slapped both of your palms on your face, groaning at his words. What the hell. You expected a different response. Not these dirty, crude words. Why would he even say that?

“Aaron!”

“What?” he only laughed– he always does, he always enjoyed seeing you blush like a tomato. “It’s true, sweetheart. What do you think will stop me from tasting you?”

Just as he said, it’s true. Nothing has ever stopped him from showing you love and pleasuring you. He’s always got to have his hand on your body, on your waist, on your thighs; his lips on yours, or your skin; his head buried at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, and most of the time, in between your legs, eating your cunt.

“Whatever, old man. Come here,” you giggled, pulling his neck, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly soft kiss. The softness of the contact sent a shiver all over your body, awakening a hunger that has been building up ever since the summer break began.

Aaron’s hand slipped from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, and deepening the kiss.

The house was wrapped in silence, yet the idea of doing something so illicit and dangerous under your parent’s roof made you tremble in anxiety– or was it pleasure? You don’t know. You can’t seem to know. Not with Aaron’s hand kneading your breasts, not with his lips trailing down to your pulsing cunt.

Your discarded underwear lay forgotten on the floor. And Aaron’s head finally nestled between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet and throbbing pussy. His calloused hands rested firmly on your hips, and the first flick of his tongue against your clit sent shivers rising from the soft surface of your skin.

“Fuck, baby. You taste so good,” Aaron murmured, his voice deep and raspy as he glanced up.

His words crumbled your resolution, with Aaron’s expert lips and tongue moving with a tenderness that bordered on reverence, exploring every inch of your cunt as if he had it all memorized– which he does. Every flick and twirl of his tongue, the vibration of his pleasured groans against your wetness, the desperate pleas that escaped your lips— he knows it all.

“Aaron…” you breathed, your voice trembling in a brimful of desire and need. “Don’t stop.”

Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling through the soft strands as you guided him closer, deeper. You bucked your hips abstractedly, creating an even more delicious friction. It was all overwhelming, full of ecstasy after two weeks of spending time away from each other. Aaron’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, watching you fall into pieces, a drunk look present in his eyes.

“I won’t, angel...” he promised. “I want you to feel everything.”

The secrecy almost felt sacred. The early morning light painted everything in a soft, dreamy glow, blurring the lines between your reality and both of your desires.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before slowly prodding them inside of your wet, dripping cunt. Aaron took your heavy moan and the satisfaction in your face as a signal to assault your pussy just the way he knows you like it, reaching spots that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

“God, I missed this… missed you...” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you felt your orgasm rising, building fast and deliberately. “A-Aaron… faster… please…”

The firmness of his touch, his caresses, his very presence; as the sensations built within you, you knew nothing could ever make you give up this moment.

All the while, his eyes held yours, tender and full of desire. “Whatever you want, baby,” his voice even softer as he said, “I’ll give you everything.”

The heavy smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter filled the air as you stepped into the garden, wearing only a short, breezy dress that fluttered around your thighs with each step. The barbecue party is in full swing, with your family and some other neighbors gathered around, chatting and enjoying the warm afternoon. Your parents are busy at the grill, flipping burgers and ribs, chatting with each other, and laughing.

You quickly scanned the garden and spotted Aaron. He’s engaged in conversation with a small crowd of men, but as if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes quickly found yours. A warm, secretive smile spreads across his face, sending a flutter through your chest.

As you move through the crowd, greeting some of your neighbors and grabbing a plate of food, you can’t help but feel Aaron’s eyes on you. Oh, you knew that his eyes were on you. The dress you chose wasn’t just for comfort in the summer heat; it was an attempt to catch his attention, to feel his gaze, to make sure he was on the tip of his toes.

You found a seat at one of the picnic tables under the shade of an old tree. Aaron casually made his way over, each of his steps languid, his movements seemingly unhurried. And when he took the seat across from you, his leg brushed against yours under the table, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

“Everything looks delicious,” you tried keeping your voice steady, your eyes flicking to his with a knowing look. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Hmm…” he nodded, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. His foot nudges yours playfully, hidden from the view of the others.

“Stop,” you chuckled, shaking your head at his childishness.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks. I know.”

He raised an eyebrow, smiling. “How cocky.”

Throughout the small gathering, the two of you stole clandestine glances. There isn’t a moment where you felt Aaron wasn’t paying attention to you. Occasionally, Aaron’s hand would graze yours when reaching for the salad bowl or the pitcher of lemonade, each touch brief and only for a lingering moment.

At one point, you excused yourself to grab yourself a drink. As you walked past by Aaron, you felt his hand subtly brush the small of your back, a fleeting touch that sent a thrill through your pulsing cunt. You can feel your underwear slowly getting soaked in anticipation for tonight, as you already know he’s staying.

You glanced over your shoulder and met his eyes, and saw the same spark of desire mirroring in there.

The afternoon crawled excruciatingly slow, and as the sun began to set, the sky a pale hue of salmon and lilac, the guests started to gather around the fire pit. You took a seat on a wooden bench, with Aaron joining you shortly after. 

He sat beside you.

A bold move.

You became hyperaware of everything: the closeness of his body next to yours, the occasional brush of his hairy arm, the deep rumble of his laughter as he chimed in the conversations of others. Nobody seemed to mind why Aaron chose to sit beside you of all places. Nobody even batted an eye. But for some reason, it made your toes tingle in anxiety.

Your parents are nearby, laughing and sharing stories with their other friends, blissfully unaware of the castle of dirty thoughts you built in honor of your father’s dear best friend. God, it feels so wrong. But you’d let the whole world crumble to dust than let go of this feeling.

As the sky darkened, you found a moment when the two of you were left alone. Aaron leaned in, his voice a low murmur meant only for your ears.

“You okay, baby? You’re quiet,” he observed, his eyes scanning your face with worry.

“I’m fine...” a shy smile played on your lips. “Enough with the beer now, please. You look red.”

A smile rose on his lips as he nodded, setting down the half-finished bottle on the ground to follow your order. When his attention landed on you again, you mirrored the smile tugging on his lips.

His hand found yours under the bench, fingers intertwining in a gesture that’s both innocent and intimate. “I wish we could be together openly,” he whispered, his thumb gently rubbing soft circles on your knuckles.

“Someday, yeah?” you whispered back, squeezing his hand. “Are you tired of this?”

“No, Jesus Christ,” he whispered, almost to himself, voice quiet and absentminded. “But it reminds me you’re graduating in a few months.”

“Right, can’t wait to escape that hell.”

Aaron snorted, throwing you a glance. “You wanted to enter law school, remember?”

“Because I wanted to impress my now boyfriend, remember?”

His eyes softened, and you could see amusement and affection filtering through them. “You didn’t have to impress me, baby, you’ve got me at the palm of your hand,” was what he said, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

The party went on until the evening. The faint sounds of the gathering still lingered in your mind— all the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the stolen glances between you and Aaron. Your heart fluttered as you recalled his eyes meeting yours across the crowded yard, his piercing eyes observing you from afar.

You laid in bed, feeling your pulse quicken as you waited, the anticipation almost too much to bear. Then, you heard it— a gentle knock on your door. 

You rose quietly, wincing at the sound of your bedsheet rustling upon your movements. In quick strides, you crossed the room and swung the door carefully, so softly, until there he was again. In front of you.

“Hi,” you whispered, a smile spreading across your face. “Come in.”

Aaron locked the door behind him, and the room felt suddenly warmer, his presence filling the space with a palpable energy. You stepped closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“What a torture...” Aaron murmured lazily, his lips brushing against your ear. “Wanted to be near you every second.”

“Huh,” you said teasingly, poking the side of his ribs. “And you dare say I’m the clingy one in this relationship?”

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both gentle and intense. The heat made you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss, letting yourself lose your mind in his warmth and touch.

Aaron’s hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“Oh, please, baby. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He led you to the bed with guided steps. Aaron’s touch was tender, the fingers trailing over your skin made your heart ache, and your cunt pulse in hot desire.

You looked into his eyes, finding a reflection of your own need. His gaze was affectionate yet filled with an intensity that made blood rush to your cheeks.

“Need you...” your voice was barely audible in the stillness. “Fuck me good, baby.”

He smiled, a slow, intimate curve of his lips that made you catch your breath. “With your parents next door? Sound dangerous…” he replied softly, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in a sweet kiss.

You could feel the tension of the day melting away. Aaron’s hands moved slowly as if he was savoring every moment, every touch. He kissed a trail from your lips to your jaw, and down to your neck, his breath warm against your skin, leaving a wet path in its wake.

As his kisses grew more insistent, you felt a wildfire ignite within you, the desire that had simmered all day finally threatening to spill. You pulled him closer, even more closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, deepening the kiss with a pace that matched his own.

While Aaron’s hands roamed around your body with such possessiveness, the only sounds in your room were the soft rustle of sheets and your quiet whining. He explored every inch of your skin with a silent plan to conquer. To take. To remind you how you and your body are his and his alone.

“Be quiet, little girl, or I’ll gag you,” his eyes darkened with warning. “Can’t have your parents know their good girl is a dirty slut, can we?” he mumbled hotly in your ears.

“Y-yes, sir...”

You lifted your hips as you felt his hands playing with the waistband of your underwear. And you couldn’t do anything when he said “Open up wide,” and slipped the crumpled fabric of your soaked underwear inside your mouth.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, hm?” he whispered again, his voice soft yet taunting.

And you could only nod because your words were caught right in your throat. Literally.

Aaron moved swiftly and with urgency this time, as he was aware of the risk of what you were doing. It was exhilarating; sharing this secret, him forcing you to keep quiet— you’ve never been quiet, not when his big, girthy cock stretched you wide, ramming in and out of your tight pussy.

“Fuck, baby, so warm…” Aaron grumbled lowly, biting on his hand as you sank deeper into his cock.

You kneaded on your tits, rubbed your nipples as you stared back at Aaron, lowering yourself to ride his hard cock. A low whimper rumbled in your chest as you felt the burn of the stretch, your moans muffled by the fabric serving as your gag for tonight.

“That’s it, angel, move your hips like that. Fuck,” Aaron closed his eyes as he felt your cunt tighten with your slow movements. “Fucking hell, baby. You’ll kill me one day.”

You started bouncing on his cock in no time, fast and hard, feeling his hands on your thighs tighten in restraint. Your air flow was restricted by the gag on your mouth, making you breathe heavily, noisily, accompanied by the quiet flapping of sweaty skin and Aaron’s pleasured grunts.

“Fuck. Fucking hell, angel…” he groaned as he spread his knees and started fucking into you.

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as he prodded the spots only he could reach. With bleary eyes, you watched how Aaron bit his lower lip and how his hips fucked into you with vigor, with the same need, struggling so hard to contain his noises.

Your eyes lingered on the solid plains of his hairy chest and rested your palm on the soft surface of his stomach, moving your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. Warm tears streamed down your cheeks with pleasure, with the nagging voice at the back of your head warning you not to make a mistake. To be quiet. To not ruin the moment.

Yet it’s all too much.

“You’re doing good for me, baby. You’re so gorgeous…” Aaron cooed as he noticed your tears. “You’re so tight. Fuck, you’re close already?”

You nodded dumbly, too fucked to even understand everything he just said.

“Go on then. Cum for me, baby,” Aaron smiled, slapping your thighs lightly. “That’s it, good girl. Ride my cock like that. Fucking hell, what a slut.”

You tried warning him. You wanted to tell him you’re close. To go faster. Harder. To let you come. To give you everything. To beg. But your quiet pleas were muffled, leaving a deep rumble of amused laughter on Aaron’s chest.

“What’s that, slut? Can’t hear you,” he taunted softly. “What do you think your parents would think if they saw you like this, hmm?”

You whined and whimpered as your thighs burned from the effort, finally letting Aaron take the control.

“I’m so close, baby... fuck, feels so good...” he too was breathing heavily. “Come for me, come on. Good girl. Tighten the cunt even more– like that, fuck!”

White hot pleasure blurred your vision as you felt your orgasm coursed through you. You felt Aaron tremble beneath your body, his hot load flooding your insides, his warm hand exploring your sweaty skin with a devotion that left you breathless.

“My jaw hurts…” you pouted as he gently took out the fabric on your mouth and tucked your face in the crook of his neck. “I love it, though.”

Aaron chuckled at your whiny voice. “I know it’s wrong but that’s so hot, darling.”

“I know…” you giggled weakly, feeling the palm of his hands roam at the surface of your back. “Can we do it again? I wanna... ride your stomach. Please, sir, can I? Didn’t you say I’m your good girl?”

Sorry for the long wait but thank you to Anon who requested this! As always, your replies, reblogs, and reactions are very much appreciated. See you on the next ones!

[unsuredreamer]

Savior

Bridget Hearts 🩷 x fem reader

it's so shit I'm so sorry, but i feel like every idea just flees out of my head atm 🥲

"I will destroy you!" Uliana roared, preparing herself to run after Bridget. Eating too many flamingo feathers had its side effects, and it was about time she found out that when someone says 'don't do it' you simply listen.

It enraged you. She was so stupid, yet everyone feared her. How so? You'd never understand why they didn't stand up to her. What would she do? Run after you? It was all she was capable of, after all.

You needed to put a stop to her dumb frantics, so you stepped up with your dagger, holding it close to her neck.

"Oooo, we dont wanna do that, do we?" You grinned, basically threatening her with death. It was exciting, thrilling. Being just a step away from getting rid of someone, having that power over them. Being in a possession of their life thread, having the scissors steady in your hand. It was amusing to you. The goosebump on your skin shows from the rush you felt deep inside.

The dagger you held so close it was pinning her skin, making a slight dent. Her breath on hold. "I suggest you step away from our princess of hearts or you'll make an excellent sushi tonight, darling." You mirrored her peers' shocked expressions. None of them daring to step up to you. You were feared amongst them, being slightly older than the rest of the students, and kind of crazy too. It had its advantages having your twisted history behind.

"Marinated octopus. How does it sound?" Or would you like something last season? Shrimp pasta?" You smiled ominously, pricking the sharp end deeper in her neck, almost making it bleed. You could sense the blade cutting her first skin, making her immediately stumble back.

"You- You're mad!" She managed to yell out, holding her fresh wound before she took her turn, walking away, or should you say, basically running away. Your graceful dagger flew after her pinning itself right beside her head, trimming her friends hair in the process.

"Might be, just a little bit" you giggled, making the blade return to you with a swift wave of your hand. Turning yourself to the other group, you fixed your button-up shirt. Red and Chloe standing in awe at how well mannered you seemed even though you almost committed murder right in front of their eyes. Red thanking you internally for saving her mother. "But aren't we all?" You grinned, your cheshire cat-like smile making everyone around you blush. You were charming, to say the least, although it was not thanks to your name. "Look at that," you pouted, pointing at the shattered plate in front of you. "She wasted such good cupcakes. What a shame"

"Don't worry, Y/n, i think I have enough for everyone!" Bridget smiled brightly. "Thank you for your savior service" She bowed jokingly, giving you one of her famous smiles in return.

"And look at you cupcake, How could anyone not like you?" You waved your hands in the air, making her broken belongings whole again. Holding it our for her. "This plate was too pretty to be broken. Dont let yourself be broken, beautiful, " you winked before dissappearing into thin air. Red and Chloe blinking a couple of times to check if they saw right.

"Woah, who was that? Hot, sexy and amusing?" Red spoke up, getting a glare in return from both Bridget and Chloe. "I'm just saing" the girl threw her arms in the air in a defensive manner.

"That was Y/n. We don't really know much about her" Bridget dreamily explained, holding her beautifully decorated plate close to her chest.

"Only that she's done some horrible stuff. And she's kinda insane" Ella blabbered, rolling the cupcake trolley.

"It was for good!. And she's right, we're all mad here" Bridget butt in, snapping herself out of her daydreams.

" If you can call cutting someone's lim-"

"Ella, they don't have to know that" bridget laughed nervously, taking another plate from her trolley "She's not that bad how they make her out to be-here you go-" The pink haired princess walked around giving out more of her delicious cupcakes. "She is actually so nice-"

"She commits crime at least 3 times a week, and her go-to 'entertaining' hobby is watching people stumble and fall over this tree root" Ella butt in pointing at the object.

"But, she paints me pink roses and brings me many different ingredients for my sweets. Isn't that nice?" Bridget hummed, making red and chloe look at themselves

"Do you think what i think?" Red whispered to her fellow 'friend', the other just nodding her head.

-

"You know, I think you should ask Bridget out for castlecoming" Red blurted out while walking after/stalking you around the school.

"Yeah? Why is that so?" You giggled, holding a book about baking. You were currently at the library, just trying to make your way to the comfy corner made specifically for residents of the library. Unfortunately, you couldn't use it if you weren't reading a book of some sort. Hence why you took ahold of whatever, with intentions of taking a nap in the place.

"Well, you seem to be liking her, aaaand she seems to be liking you too" You laughed, you loved being in these kinds of situations.

"Well loves, what made you think I like this princess?" You looked up from your book, you let's be real, were not paying attention to. The question made them rethink everything.

"You-She-em" Chloe tried, but nothing made sense

"I guess she's alright" You grinned at their troubled expressions.

Princess of hearts was more than alright. She was everything and nothing at the same time. She was the air you breathed and the hard ground you walked on. She is like the ocean breeze early in the morning, the sunbeams lightly musking your face and the cold water splashing your body. She lit up the whole room with her bright eyes and cute smile. Like a walk through a rainy forest, she made you content and calm. Her delicate and soft features fairly contrast to your strong ones. It made you only more drawn to her.

"Wouldn't you want to take her out?"

"You're very persistent. interesting" you hummed "And why would I do that, Red my love?" You flew up from your comfortable place, spinning around doing flips. Red grimacing at the nickname, Chloe glaring at you "Chill Charming" The snort you let out made chloe burst out one of her own "I will take your mommy to the dance Red. Don't want her turning out evil, do we?"

"How do you-?"

"Well, I might have or have not overheard you twoooo, talking maybee" You flew circling them both, extra dragging your words making them annoyed "Aboouut an evil Queen who likes to behead people, whom also happened to be your mom and she sentenced your mom to death" You grinned spitting it all out in one breath "Crazy little woman"

"So now you know"

"Yeah, that's what I said. Are you deaf darling?" She was ready to jump you but got stopped by Chloe, thankfully. "I'm going, my children. I have to make a proposal for your mom now, do i?"

"Only my mom not hers!"

"Of course!" You laughed, dissappearing in the frame.

-

"Hello Bridget" You whispered into her ear appearing behind her. Your lips musking her skin. she stopped breathing for a hot second, staring intensively at her notebook. A beautiful yours heart shaped necklace with lots of cards and sweets drawn on the page. Her slender manicured fingers held onto a pencil, touching up some lines. "That is amazingly jaw-dropping." You kept on whispering

"Thank you" She whispered out herself, turning her head to the side. Her lips almost touching yours in the process. Her big brown eyes dropping down to your lips, then back up to your own enchanting ones.

"You know if you want to kiss me, you just have to ask" You leaned closer, bumping your noses together, giving her your biggest grin possible.

"What if i do?" Her sudden confidence made you stumble a bit back, but her quick grip on your collar dragged you in closer "...want to kiss you" she breathed out into your lips. you felt every bone in your body snap.

"Then we might just have to do that" You looked down on her lips, almost closing the blank space between you two if it weren't for the sudden yank of your shirt from the back.

"Please don't do that here" Red grimaced, secretly smirking when she saw you on the ground.

"Party pooper!" You floated up placing yourself between two girls. "Ohh, such a sunshine!" You threw your arm around Ella, the girl too stiff to shrug it off.

"Whatever"

"Sooooo, Ella tell me how's it going with little prince Charming" You grinned against her cheek, she blushed hard at the mention of him

"Did he ask you to the castle coming yet?" Bridget asked excitedly, almost pushing you off the bench.

"He did, but I'm not going. i think i made my point clear-"

"Oh c'monnnn. At least he asked you" Bridget pouted "I wish someone would ask me" the girl dragged, looking down on her drawing, popping her head on her palm. Red looked at you, raising her eyebrows.

"Cupcake" with just a single word everyone was looking at you, not a bit of your confidence faltering away. With a wave of your hand a pink rose appeared, well developed with only a single thorn and two leafs. "Could I take you to castle coming?" you asked in all seriousness, presenting her the rose. Her eyes widened at your gesture.

"Well, there weren't any roses for me, surely," Ella grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at the other girls.

"So what do you say, princess?" She threw her arms around your neck, engulfing you in a tight hug.

"Hell yes! I'd love it, actually. " She smiled widely, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You felt the blood rushing in you. You loved the feeling of her lips on you, her touch. She was so soft, like a pillow. So delicate. It made you want more.

You never thought about the princess of hearts that way. Actuallyy you did, once or twice. But before that, she was always just there. Just someone you'd defend before Uliana and her crew. Someone who did cool card tricks and someone who was so easily prank-able. But you wouldn't dare. She was good-hearted, almost perfect. No one was that pure, and still, here she was, pure as the driven snow. A pretty girl there was no denying. You've never imagined what her touch would feel like if it lingered on you a bit more than a few seconds. Or if she's keeping any secrets, she had to, right?

-

"You know Bridget, you look absolutely gorgeous" You smiled, not sarcastically, a true genuine smile you haven't done for years. It made her blush for the millionth time this evening.

Your hands were resting on her small waist, hers on your shoulders, making her fingers intertwine on your neck. Slowly swaying your bodies together in the rythm of the music. Not your thing completely, but her presence changed it entirely. It was probably the last song of the night, leaving only a few couples in the ballroom. But you both had such great fun you wouldn't wish on heavens to go home right now. Just being here with her was the right place, and you felt it deep inside.

"Thank you" Was all she made out "Thank you for taking me here" She laid her head on your chest, placing you both even closer.

"No worries. I could do it a million times if it meant getting to spend time with you. My heart" you swayed both of you slowly, the song never ending.

"I loved tonight, I'm glad im here with you. I hope we'll be able to spend more time together" She looked up at you, her big brown eyes staring closely and longingly. Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You placed your hand in her hair, grabbing the back of her head.

"Of course we will. I'm making sure of that" Her eyes lit up, brightening the whole room for you. You were absolutely in awe, speechless. She had never looked better. The dim lights only making her singular features pop more. No one will ever look better than her.. At least you won't be looking at them. You've got your only one star, your moon. She was not yours, but she will be. "Can I kiss you?" The sudden question did not startle her in fact she did not mutter a word. A single nod with a smile was all that it took.

You will be her savior forevermore

[ronearoundblindly]

For the every Cevans character, what is each one’s favorite position in bed? 😏😆

Fac-i-na-ting. I have categorized them into similar positions and then broken down the specifics or variations. No, I do not know the actual names of a lot of positions. I use the terms 'top' and 'bottom' but NOT in a BDSM way.

Sincerely, MINORS DNI. Warnings for very smutty descriptions of each of these characters 'in the act' and just...do I need to warn you about how much I was sweating during this???

'Top' Positions

Curtis Everett - Jimmy Dobyne - Steve Rogers - Ransom Drysdale - [Bucky Barnes]

Curtis is a cramped-quarters kind of lover, like you have been fucked up the bed until you and he are pressed against that headboard like a pretzel on a baking sheet. Gahdamn, he is intense. He threads an arm beneath you to make sure you're as close as possible. He grinds his pelvis into you, loving how his balls slap your ass. He likes it real sweaty, but he'll help you clean up in the shower, too. Dirty boi. 😮‍💨 We need him.

Jimmy and Ransom like you bent over but in different ways. Ransom just enjoys doggie-style. He feels awkward with too much eye contact and doesn't have to worry about that from behind. Jimmy is exceptionally good at spontaneously pressing you back or down onto a counter or the couch or perhaps a fence outside. 😳 He's oddly into fucking with at least some clothes on, but not because he doesn't like your body. He has a thing for choosing sex over chores or other obligations, so he and you are dressed for doing whatever else. It's just a little naughtier that way.

Steve is--I'm sure we can all agree--a missionary man. He looooves that eye contact Ran is so afraid of, but BUT! Steve's also a most considerate gentleman. He worries about putting too much of his weight on you, so his actual favorite position in pinning you against a wall (or mirror or window, etc) because he can lean into you without fear. He also enjoys that you get very, very excited for him to hold you up like that. You wrap around his neck and kiss him like it's your purpose in life. You get handsy, and that's about his favorite part...

[I know you said CE characters, nonnie, but Bucky just sneaks in, sorry!]

Ngl, Bucky took me the longest to figure out, and I'm not entirely sure he has a true 'favorite,' something he likes a good deal more than other positions. I have, however, landed on Bucky going braindead and gooey inside when he gets you in a mating press. There's, uh, a symbolism to wanting him and his cum inside you for as long as possible that hits all the right buttons to shut him down to the rest of the world for a while. He likes to sit back afterward and grip your knees to keep you right there until some drips out as you clench around nothing. You aren't empty though.

[Why. the fuck. does Bucky always get so 🥵 in these?]

'Bottom' Positions

Johnny Storm - Jake Jensen - Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd lets himself be lazy. He legitimately tucks his hands behind his head like he's at the beach and taunts you to work harder. He's so used to ordering people around and being quite active. Unless he has some aggression/frustration to work through, Lloyd needs to not be bothered with effort. It's your turn. Put your back into it.

Jake lets you control everything. Let's be fair: Jake is just happy to be here, ya know? He gets to be naked, he gets to see you naked, and he is going to come no matter what. Use him to your heart's content. Don't try telling him not to touch you (like an order or a deprivation game) because he can't stop himself. Every other order or request, he's game for, but on his back offers the best view of you--and technically, his glasses fog less 😬.

Johnny straight up loves when you ride him. He controls everything from below, though, because it's not actually about you taking over. He loves guiding your hips. He loves fucking up into you. He loves already being prone to fall asleep faster. [Go on, try to tell me I'm wrong. ::listens:: ::crickets:: Yeah, that's what I thought.] It's a win-win-win situation. All around cannot fail to please him. Johnny is definitely the type to assume that what feels good to him feels as good for his partner.

'Side' Positions

James Mace - Ari Levinson

Mace technically changes positions so much it maybe doesn't count as 'side,' but he's so playful, I'll allow it. His favorite sex, in general, is filled with natural ebbs and flows, quicker frantic times as well as soft doting and sweet, blissful enjoyment. A position that puts either him and you a hair's breath away from taking over is ideal. He wants to enjoy your company as much as your body. Mace can do both of those things in many, many different positions.

[Mace is quickly becoming a sleeper-fave of mine, my gawd. He's 😘🤌]

Finally, if Ari doesn't scream "wants to wake up fucking you," I don't know who does. He's spooning you, or coiled together with you someway, and just...ready when he sees you first thing in the morning--or in the middle of the night. Why bother moving much? He'll lift that leg up for you. He'll wrap around you to cup your breasts, play with your nipples, and rub your clit. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Doesn't have to do with the position you're in, per se, but Ari also gruffly whispers other shit he'd like to do to you in your ear. It's vaguely easier to do that when your heads are on the same pillow, just saying.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would..." Asks; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I successfully scheduled a post! Look at me, learning and shit...