#the way i made up most of these on the spot

[d1sc0rd1a]

ok this was originally in the tags but in the spirit of the post im coming out of hiding to share my view.

i was always the kid with the best hiding spot and no one could ever find me. theres a joy and a pride in it. its one of the things i liked most about myself as a kid. i really really tried to understand this post, because differing viewpoints are important to try to internalize. and to some degree i think i get it. i was/am constantly kinda lonely. i was/am constantly kinda guarded about how im perceived. i am vague. sometimes i lie. but i cant really wrap my head around most of this post. i dont truly grok it.

why do people get upset? everyone does it. thats how it works. everyone hides in both these games and in life. the fun comes in the searching. the joy comes in the accomplishment of successfully reaching out. when you pick a ridiculous spot to be found in youre setting up the punchline to a joke. whoever finds you gets to tell the story. even if someone is never found theres still a connection. Hiding and Seeking. theyre two sides of the same experience being shared. when the game is over the hider and the seeker both get to share what their part of the game was like. a bond is made. reinforced. to stop the search early is to break the bond. in a way its a rejection. it shows how little you care. i was the best seeker too, and i never got/dont get why nobody else ever tried.

sardines was fun too. its a good game, i really did like it. but i always pitied the person who found the group last. how sad to be so disconnected. to have your gameplay experience be fully isolated from the group. as soon as you successfully reach out the game is over. unless the final seeker is a pair of two or the single person is doing something ridiculous theres no punchline. the joke falls flat. there is suddenly no more story to tell. everybody was having fun without them and the fun ends when they show up. if somebody was consistently the last one to find the group of sardines it seemed almost like a sign they were the least in sync with the group. that everyone understood each other better than they did. how awful.

Goddamn. Okay

[ditzydoe444]

Older! Bruce Wayne edging bunny!reader? (or it could be Jason, whatever you prefer 🫶. Love ur work sm!!!)

can I be 🦢 anon? (if it’s taken can I be 🪽?)

MDNI 18+

a/n: you’ve been added 🦢 anon !!

older bruce wayne x bunny! reader

“b-bruce,” you moaned as you gripped your bedsheets tightly, him destroying your cunt from the back. sex with bruce was either slow and passionate or rough and mean, this time it was the latter. he had been overworking himself for the past few weeks, and as a result he needed an outlet to ‘get the stress out.” now he was bullying your cunt until it was swollen and puffy, whilst refusing you to come.

“i n-need to come,” a pathetic whine escaped your lips as his cock continued to hit all of your sweet spots, his thrusts were merciless, making you quiver and gasp.

“you’ll come when i let you,” he said lowly, clearly no intention of letting you come anytime soon.

you were so damn close, and bruce knew it. the way your tight walls clenched around him and the way your moans went up a pitch was a sign he knew all too well. but where’s the fun in letting you get what you want?

“bruce!”

a harsh slap landed on your ass, “don’t fucking complain, brats don’t get to come.”

bruce was never one to tolerate bratty behaviour, hence why he always made sure to put you in your place when acting out.

he watched as your smaller form quivered with his thrusts, your pathetic attempts of grabbing the sheets whilst you whined like an animal.

“m-mph!”

you were so desperate for a release it was adorable, watching you try and meet his thrusts as an attempt to get off, or the way you would sneakily tried to rub your clit.

“hands off,” bruce warned as he pinned your hands together, “n-need to come!” you protested.

you were like a broken record, saying the same damn phrase over and over again about how desperate you were to come.

you were dripping all over him, staining the sheets with your cunt making the most lewd noises.

“s-so close bruce,” you gasped as he continued thrusting into you like a toy.

you saw it coming, just a few more thrusts and you were going to come, your moans increased in pitch whilst you pulled the sheets.

but he stopped.

“i told you, you’re not coming until i say so, and i haven’t.”

he flipped you over, where you were on your back before he immediately spreads your legs. “hold it in sweet thing or i’m going to fuck your ass.”

the sensation was all too much, bruce thrusting into you harshly, his large muscular body in between your thighs using you like a flesh light.

“b-bruce,” you whined as your eyes roll back.

“i know, i know, need you to hold it in or else you’ll never come.”

you were pretty damn sure you passed out.

[slxtarchive]

𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐍 ꩜ 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you and your best friend billie had your monthly sleepover consisting of a movie night and slurpees… she might’ve slurped sum else too.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. no but inspired by a request i got for madz

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. SMUT ! oral f!receiving, fingering, scissoring, talks of finding yourself kinda, confusing and conflicting feels, basically relatable content [ especially for me ] a little deep on this one.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. the synopsis i cannot — anyway, this was inspired by a madz request i got! tried making a divider, i got the inspiration from pinterest

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 3.6k.

“so i’m thinking like three different chips, maybe two candies and… slurpees?” billie smiled excitedly. “we have to go all out since we didn’t have a sleepover last month!! c’mon, ill pay.” she moved forward super close to you practically touching your nose.

you rolled your eyes moving forward as your foreheads touched narrowing your eyes. “okay.” you said, quietly laughing with a grin on your face.

you and billie have always been super close. you spent practically every day together and if it weren’t for your parents you’d have a sleepover every week.

most people at school thought you two were a bit too close but you both never gave your friendship a second thought, well, you didn’t give your friendship a second thought. billie though, growing up she found herself thinking about you as more than just a friend but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind with fear of messing with your friendship — which she would never put in jeopardy.

you grabbed your snacks and slushees deciding which ones to get. billie insisted you picked them all out before you headed back to her house.

this time you both were in the living room because her parents were out of town. so, you both set it up a little more dramatically than you usually would in her room. you brought the couch cushions together to make a makeshift bed with a bunch of fluffy blankets. then, billie brought out a bowl and platter for your chips and a spot to set down your slushees.

after a few minutes of setting everything up, you finally sat down and began to decide on a movie. “what are we feeling?” she questioned, scrolling through netflix.

you looked at the rows of movies showing up on the screen before something caught your eye. “fear street…” you read. “it’s horror, and — oo it’s a trilogy! fear street 1994, 1978, and 1666.” you looked toward her excitedly.

she pressed her lips together trying to stifle a laugh. “so i’m guessing your choice is that one?" she hovered over the movie.

you nodded, "yeah we can watch all three. movie marathon!" you sang out.

she obliged putting on the first movie of the trilogy. throughout the movie it was good, you both commented on how crazy the storyline was and how cute the main characters were until one particular scene came about.

you sat on the couch legs crisscrossed practically mesmerized by the scene before you. you became overly aware of billie’s shoulder next to yours, the room heating up around you.

the scene was short but it still clouded your mind for the rest of the movie — your thoughts running a mile a minute.

by the time the second movie was wrapping up, you felt the energy in the room shift. the air felt charged somehow — heavy — with something unspoken.

the third movie started, bringing its scene to the start of the storyline all the way back in 1666. two girls who both had a secret attraction to each other but couldn’t act on it because of the views of their village.

you felt for the girls, in a way that you didn’t know you could feel. the scenes continued and as more scenes passed — the more the story made sense. every scene was important but there was one particular scene that stuck with you even more.

your fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket that covered your and billie’s legs as the scene unfolded. the two girls had gone out into the empty woods together after a fight had broken out. you didn’t pay much attention to the dialogue of the interaction — you paid more to the energy shift between them.

you eyes were fixed on the screen as the two girls, deena and sam, shared an emotional and deeply tender moment.

your breathing hitched and your chest tightened, a strange warmth spreading through you that you couldn’t explain. you had seen many romantic scenes before — but this one felt… different. it felt so real. it felt like something you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

what pulled your eyes away from the screen was when you moved your gaze over to billie, whose face was lit by the glow of the tv screen. her expression was unreadable, her lips slightly parted, her focus locked on the screen. you quickly turned your head back moving your eyes away from her, your cheeks flushed.

by the time the movie ended, you couldn’t sit still. your mind was racing and your body was tense. the silence between you both was deafening, interrupted by the ending credits song starting.

billie finally broke the quiet. “that was so good! holy shit.” she smiled, before looking at you.

you cleared your throat a bit trying to shake the thoughts from your brain. “yeah.” you whispered, your voice not sounding too convincing.

billie noticed the shift in your energy quicker than anything. she moved her posture to face you before speaking up. “you okay? you’ve been quiet since—” she stopped herself, before softening her gaze. “since that scene.”

you stiffened, your fingers twisting the blanket with anxiousness. “i’m fine.”

she tilted her head, unconvinced. “yn.” she knew you better than anyone in the world including your parents and yourself.

you sighed, knowing exactly what she was thinking. your chest rose and fell unevenly. “it’s stupid.” you mumbled, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“it’s not stupid if it’s bothering you yn.” billie’s eyebrows furrowed.

you hesitated, your throat feeling dry. “it’s just… that scene. it made me feel… weird? i… don’t know why. it’s like… it hit me in a way i wasn’t expecting, and now i can’t stop thinking about it.”

billie stayed quiet in response to your confession. her eyes scanned your face searching for some kind of telling.

you noticed the longing stare she gave you. “it’s not just the scene…” you whispered, your heart twisting and churning. “it’s you..” you confessed in realization. “sitting here with you i—” you stopped yourself, not wanting to say things you might not know the truth of.

you shook your head trying to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. you swallowed harshly, “i don’t know what’s happening to me, bils.” you admitted.

billie’s heart pounded as the air surrounding her became thick. she found the courage to reach her hand out toward you, brushing your hand. “you’re not alone.” she said softly.

you looked up, your eyes searching hers. “what do you mean?”

billie took in a shaky deep breath. “i… i felt it too — during that scene.” she bit her lip nervously. “and i have felt it before, with you.” she looked you into your eyes.

your heart practically stopped right then and there. you wanted to speak but you felt like all the words you thought of and wanted to say, that they couldn’t make their way out of your mouth.

billie spoke up, noticing the trouble you had been having. “i would’ve said something but i’ve just been too scared to say anything because i don’t know if you’d… if you’d feel the same.”

your breathing hitched, your pulse roared in your ears. “you’ve felt… felt it?”

billie nodded avoiding eye contact with you, “yeah. and it’s confusing and scary, and it feels like my chest is about to explode every time i try n think about it. but…” she stuttered her hand running through her hair, “but it also feels good. like it just — just makes sense.” she finally looked up to look into your eyes.

the space between you both felt smaller now, the air filling with tension. your gaze flicked to billie’s lips, then back to her eyes. “i don’t know what to do with this feeling…” you whispered with a conflicting feeling.

her hand moved to cup your cheek, her thumb softly brushing against it — the touch sending electricity through your veins. “we don’t have to know. not right now, okay? we can just… feel.”

you leaned into her touch instinctively, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure she could hear it. slowly, billie found her forehead pressing against yours, your breaths mingling in the quiet.

the moment hung there, suspended, until you tilted your head, your lips brushing against hers. the kiss was soft, tentative, their movements slow as you both felt your way through this unfamiliar territory.

billie’s hand slid to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling their way through your hair. your hand gripped the blanket over them before hesitantly moving to rest on her waist, pulling her closer.

you felt the kiss deepen, not rushed but full of quiet intensity, a mixture of nervousness and something unspoken that somehow had always been there, waiting to rise up to the surface.

when you both pulled away, you stayed close to each other — your noses brushing together and breaths shaky.

“is this okay?” billie whispered up against your lips.

you nodded, your fingers brushing against her side. “yeah, it’s… it’s more than okay.” you licked your bottom lip moving closer.

she nodded, building up the courage to kiss you once more but stood there admiring the way you looked angelic in the tv glow.

your eyes moved all over her face before you made the move to kiss her. your lips molded with each other softly and passionately with more need this time.

you liked it. the feeling of her lips on yours. your skin touching hers. it felt so good — so right. you could taste the faint flavor of cherry from the slurpee on her tongue as the kiss became more hungry. she slipped her tongue into your mouth again before she pushed you onto your back. she then straddled you still never letting your lips disconnect.

you felt hot and needy in between your legs and felt the same thing between hers. the small gasps that came from your mouth showed billie that you enjoyed what was happening but she still wanted to your thoughts on what she wanted to do next.

her hands moved from your face all the way down to your chest then your lower stomach. “we’re just feeling right?” she gulped, out of breath.

you didn’t register what she meant but responded with a slow nod. “mmm — yeah? yeah… we are.”

she took another deep slow breath before moving down your lap and moving her hands to the waistband of your shorts. “and if you like… what i’m doing — i could keep going. if you don’t, i could stop.” you still didn’t get what was going on until she trailed her fingers inside a bit, beneath your underwear as well.

you took a deep breath leaning back on your elbows trying to calm down. your mind immediately went to the movie scene, the way you felt — the way it made your body feel. you felt needy for that in the moment. the way you felt all uncomfortable but a good uncomfortable, as if there was an itch you wanted to scratch. that’s exactly how you felt right now with billie making a move toward that kind of thing.

just to be sure you wanted to ask. “stop… stop what exactly?” you questioned, still looking down at her.

she smiled softly before tugging down your shorts a bit. “just… stop me from tasting you.” she still pulled down your shorts slowly looking up at you waiting for your response.

the only response you had, had to do with your body. the fact that you nodded while wanting to clench your thighs and soothe that feeling down there showed you that this is what you wanted. your only worry would be that this would change everything, something you didn’t want to happen but at this point — you couldn’t stop yourself.

she pulled your shorts down before taking them fully off leaving you in your underwear. she noticed the damp spot in between your legs. “you’re sure?” she asked, her tongue touching her lower lip.

your chest moved up and down as you tried to build the courage. you let out a breath, “yeah, i’m… i’m sure.”

she nodded before moving to take off your underwear. she tugged them down the same she did with the shorts and tossed them to the side giving you a full view of your pussy. you felt exposed and quite nervous so you closed your thighs. she giggled shortly, bringing her hands up to keep them from closing. “it’s okay..” she whispered through the low light.

she moved your legs away from each other so she could see you again and moved her head down. your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest when you felt her give one lick. your body reacted instantly as your back arched slightly and your breathing stopped abruptly. she looked up at you before taking another lick — the eye contact doing something insane to you.

she slowly got more comfortable with it starting to suck softly on your clit. your hand found its way to her hair tugging on it and trying to pull her closer. “fuck—” you moaned as her tongue dipped into your entrance then brought your slick up to your clit.

she sucked and moved her tongue around picking up her pace before speaking up. “tell me if… if it feels good. tell me what feels good. wanna make you feel good.” she blabbered taking your clit again into your mouth and sucking on it harshly.

“that — that feels really fucking good. i’m… oh fuck bils.” you moved the hair out of her face again to see her actions on your clit. “yeah, jus’ like that…” you moaned throwing your head back.

she nodded against your pussy harshly pushing her tongue on you. the mix of her saliva and your arousal adding to the squelching wet sounds.

she brought her fingers up to slowly inch inside you providing more feeling and pleasure. she hummed against your clit as her fingers thrust inside of you. you couldn’t help but move your hips up to meet her tongue, practically trying to ride her. your eyes clenched shut, “fuck billie… i feel so — oh fuck..” you couldn’t get your words out.

billie felt you getting closer and closer wanting to bring you to that state of ecstasy. she licked, sucked, and slurped everything up before letting it fall onto your clit and doing it all over again until you came undone on her tongue.

you tried to catch your breath as billie brought her face away from you and up to face you, her hand wiping your slick from her chin. she licked her lips, “so… did you— did you like that?” she asked, shy and nervous.

your eyes were filled with lust as you responded. “mhm — i… i loved it.” you nodded before getting on your knees in front of her and taking her hands in yours. “let me make you feel good too?” you looked at her lips before leaning forward and capturing them in a kiss.

she whimpered against your lips as she felt your hands touch her waist. billie couldn’t wait for you to take off her clothes so she did it for you, removing both her shorts and underwear leaving you both bottomless. “i… can we try something?”

you were practically hypnotized by her so you nodded eager to hear what she had to say.

she sat back against the couch armrest with her legs wide open. she touched herself a little bringing the arousal from her entrance to her clit. “want you to… rub yourself on me, please.” you gulped, trying to figure out how exactly she wanted you to do it. “you just—” she started sitting up and pulling you closer. “put this leg over mine and rub yourself onto me.” she tapped your right leg. “do you want me to show you first?”

you nodded pressing your lips together not wanting to do anything wrong. she obliged your request pushing you back onto you laying flat on the couch. your head wasn’t elevated or anything so it was hard to see what she was doing but you felt her lift your right leg up and push it back against your chest, then she made her way on top of you. before you knew it, she placed her own pussy on yours.

she fixed herself so she was right on top of you then started moving slowly. your mouth fell open at this new sensation. you looked up to find billie already staring at you. “how does it feel?”

you poked your tongue. “it feels really good.” your head moved back as your eyes fluttered shut. you felt so hot and sweaty, you wondered if it’d be okay to take off your shirt. you felt your adrenaline take over so you decided to do it anyway. you took it off and tossed it off the couch before unclasping your bra and doing the same with it as well leaving you topless.

billie’s moved her hips faster and harsher upon seeing you feel more comfortable with her. she decided to avoid making you feel alone she took off her own shirt and bra leaving her in her bare skin. your hands rested on her hips trying to push her to move faster. “please, faster bils. feels so good..” you whined softly.

billie nodded. “c’mon, you try.” she said lying down on her back. you felt that feeling of edge simmer so you hurriedly tried to move your legs mirroring what billie was doing. you looked at her for reassurance as you moved your legs over hers. “yeah, that’s good.” she nodded.

you brought yourself down pushing over her trying to find that specific spot that made your legs feel like jelly. you looked at billie trying to read her expression as a way to help you that you found her sweet spot too. she bit her lip moving her hair away from her face. she hummed with pleasure as you moved your pussy over a particular spot.

you smiled lightly, trying to repeat that action over that same spot. “yeah yn, just like that, please.” she moaned resting her hands on your hips. “such a pretty girl.” she purred, her face contorting as you grinded over her own pussy. the wetness in between making the smallest noises. that feeling you felt earlier was coming back almost becoming too much.

your hand rested over her leg that was off to the side and resting against the side of her chest. you moved with passionate eyes on that amazing feeling that was coursing up through you. “oh shit bils… i’m — i’m gonna cum.” you cried out, the pleasure blinding you.

she moved her head to the side clenching the couch. “me too yn… fuck — keep moving like that, please. jus like that.”

desperate spurts of moans escaped your throat as you kept your hips moving faster and harsher. you were right there you just needed a little push.

you looked down at billie to see her eyes fluttered closed with her lip between her teeth. that look on her face, the fact that it was you that was making her feel this good brought you right where you needed. you felt that feeling spread from your pussy throughout your whole body. “shit— i’m cumming!” you cried out.

billie only responded with a low guttural moan, grabbing onto your thighs as she came undone beneath you as well. her thighs shook as she cried out head thrown back against the couch with a blinding wave of pleasure crashing through her.

after the minute of whimpers and whines had passed, you had collapsed on top of billie, breathless and exhausted.

you didn’t know what to say. you both were a bit quiet for a moment before billie spoke up, breaking the silence. “this changes things, right?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

you nodded slowly, “yeah.” swallowing harshly you continued. “but i don’t think it’s a bad thing.” you admitted, mostly to yourself.

billie nodded, “it’s not.” her quiet voice was so soft. “it just feels different.” her thumb rubbing circles over your skin.

you agreed, your nerves still swarming inside you but billie was able to calm you down. “yeah, it is different.” you moved the blanket so that it covered you both, your naked skin in contact with hers.

billie shifted slightly still feeling unsettled. her movement was slow like she didn’t want to freak you out or startle you. she reached for your hand lacing them together, “are you okay?”

you hesitated, your eyes dropping to your intertwined hands. “i think so… it’s just a lot. i didn’t expect this y’know? i mean, i’ve always felt close to you but this — it’s new and kinda scary.”

billie gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “it’s scary for me too.” she admitted. “but that’s okay because we don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

you looked up and made eye contact with her finally seeing her face in full. “you make it sound so easy.” you whispered, feeling her so close.

she chuckled cuddling closer to you. “its not simple but if we have each other and we promise to always be there and be honest with each other, we’ll be okay.” her hand rested on your cheek.

you nodded leaning into her soft touch. “one step at a time.” you stated.

billie smiled. “exactly, so first step, how about we finish these snacks and instead make this a date? another movie?”

you looked in between her eyes before nodding. “i’d definitely like that.” you spoke softly. in response, she leaned down and pecked your lips softly.

© 𝐬𝐥𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞

[jaggedamethyst]

easy (part 2) (bucky barnes x gn!reader)

content: secret relationship/established relationship, miscommunication/misunderstanding, angst, self-doubt, mentions of death, cheating (kind of), not proofread

notes: part two this this...good luck lmao (a short one but it’s the right length i fear)

main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

You’d been woken up by the sounds of knocks on your door. They started off normal and quickly became more frantic…aggressive, even. 

The sound of your name made you sit up on the floor. Suddenly, the door pushed open—revealing Bucky there. His hair was disheveled, clearly having run his hands through it. He hadn’t bothered with saying hi, kneeling in front of you and looking you over.

He cupped your face, “Are you okay?” He pressed into you more, nudging you to sit up. “What are you doing down here?”

You reached out to him, making sure you hadn’t tricked yourself, that he was really here. 

He continued, “What happened? Sharon said you disappeared and she couldn’t find you.” 

Somehow Bucky was missing the point. You could only blink at that, knowing that his energy was so misplaced. Why would he care about you right now when this entire relationship had so quickly gone awry? Why would he focus on you being on the floor when he ruined this—him. 

Bucky spoke again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “I called you a shit ton, where’s your phone?” 

“Don’t know.” 

He paused, confused at your first and only words to him being so carelessly spoken. “Steve said he saw you—that you just…ran.“ 

You nodded. You had ran. Swift motions out of the building and to your place weren’t enough to erase the imagery in your brain. The way Bucky had seemed so carefree—so happy. With someone who wasn’t you, most importantly. A woman who looked so remarkably different than you. 

Your skin and body physically repelled him—pushing him away without a thought. Moving to stand, you watched his face twist in hurt. 

“How was recon?” 

“It was fine…am I missing something?” 

You ignored the question, asking your own. “You said Steve told you he saw me?” He nodded. “Did he know who I was?”

“Course he knew who you were—he’s my best friend.” 

You bought your in front of you, wringing them together. “Does she?” The question was meant to quell your anxiety, but instead made the prospect of him cheating infinitely harder to swallow. You looked at him expectantly, an answer seeming to escape him—despite you both knowing what happened that evening. 

“Does who?” 

“Natasha…Romanoff…the one you went on recon with.” You moved your head as you slowly spoke the words—breaking it down for him. “Does she know about me? About us?” 

“You know that we keep this a secret for your safety. We’ve talked about this a thousand times-“ 

“No, you keep it a secret and you've talked about it.” You moved to sit on the couch, “I agreed because I love you and I understand the stress of your job. But what I saw today,” you shook your head and looked up at him across the room. “That wasn’t a secret for my benefit. It was for yours.” 

“That’s just not true.” Bucky moved from his spot, finally, stepping across the room to sit beside you. “You have to understand my perspective on this. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I was the cause of anything happening to you.”

You twisted your entire face, staring up with an incredulous look. “Did you stop to consider how much worse it would be to have to live with the knowledge of you doing god knows what every time you’re not here?” You paused, feeling his hands attempt to wrap around you. Moving back instantly, you continued, “What happened with her? What haven’t I seen?” 

“Nothing.” Bucky waved his hands in front of him, emphasizing his words. “Nothing happened-“ 

“I saw you. Sharon showed me the feed, Bucky.” 

His face glazed over in realization—not that you had seen him with her, but that you had seen him with her. Bucky’s head started to move on its own, searching for how to make sense of this for you. “That wasn’t what it looked like.” 

A huff escaped you. Without a second thought you got up and moved toward the door, Bucky right on your trail. “If we’re gonna act like this you can just go.” You put a hand on the door handle, raising a brow at him. “You of all people know I won’t sit here and look stupid. Not when I’ve already wasted so much time waiting for you.” 

A moment passed, the reality of what you were saying lingering in the room. The two of you had talked about it before, how you’d waited so long for someone like him to appear. There’d been years of self discovery and “loving yourself first” before Bucky showed you that someone else could. When that happened, you settled for the relationship existing in its very specific confines—under the lock and key of his life’s restrictions. Even then, he’d get a call; people needed him. Bucky would go away for however long, and you’d wait. The amount of time spent yearning for the world to suddenly be quicker for you, for him, was immense. In every instance it seemed that despite the relatively common cosmic occurrences he’d faced, none of Bucky’s opponents could grant your wish—to get the man you loved back to you sooner. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke. You watched his hands ball into a fist, angered with himself. The mechanical whir of his arm filling the empty space. “I don’t feel that way about her.” 

You scoffed at that. He sounded so textbook it was physically making you ill. 

He continued, though, “She’s been my friend for a long time. We spend a lot of time together…and I wanted to tell her about you.” He inhaled, “But I didn’t. I don’t know why.” 

“Did you sleep with her?” 

“Of course not…and she kissed me. I regret making her feel like there was even a slight chance of me seeing her that way—because I don’t. I can’t.” His voice wavered, “Can’t because I only love you.”

He reached a hand out to you and it caused you to move away from him—impossibly closer to the door. 

“Bucky…I don’t think I can do this.” 

“Doll, please-“

You waved a hand, interrupting him, “Wait—just…listen.” You let go of the door, fully looking at him now. “I don’t think I can be with you if it’s like this.” He let you continue, “I know you want to protect me, but all of this has hurt me more than it could’ve ever helped. I feel so removed from you—like I don’t know you outside of our apartment walls.” Sweat had accumulated on your palms, making you realize how anxiety-inducing this had been. “I haven’t felt confident in myself around you in…a while-“

“But-“ 

“Bucky, please.” He nodded, stilling himself in commitment to let you speak. “That’s not your fault…but I think I need space to figure out why that is.” 

Bucky whispered your name, a shakiness on his voice. “I just…can’t stomach the idea of you dead…dying...because of me.” 

“I would’ve.” You moved to open the door. “I think I would’ve been fine facing death as long as everyone knew I loved you first.” You stepped back from the threshold and offered him the space to step out. “But they don’t. Nobody knows except us. That hurts.” 

Bucky didn’t speak as he stepped toward the hall. His entire figure seemed to hang lower than normal, and it pained you to see. You felt the heat of tears in your eyes, but you wouldn’t cry. There was a sort of satisfaction in facing this—breaking up with Bucky. It was always going to happen, you reasoned, so bearing your soul…crying…would’ve been too easy.  

tags (tried to get everyone who asked lol)

@julvrs @shanksstrawhat @vicmc624 @preeyas-world @ilovemcuff @winchestert101 @caity1995 @hereforfun-31 @cjand10 @nadinekr @wintercrows @read-just-cant @behindmygreyeyes @ordelixx @pklol @bookworm3570 @largarei @fairlyfatale @kittenkiryu

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she can date whoever she wants to, i don't care.

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James and you still aren't on talking terms, he avoids you, never gets too close to you, yet complains to everyone when he sees you get close to your new charms partner.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), r is a gryffindor lol, this is lowkey super short… 2.1k words, the next chapter will be better...trust

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

It had been weeks. Weeks since James had last spoken to you, the last time you had talked was in december, now you're almost two weeks into february, and the rift between you only seemed to grow wider. At first, he told himself he was giving you space. He thought that if he stayed back, you’d eventually come to him, and things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t what happened.

Every time James worked up the courage to approach you, it was the same thing: you were with him.

Finn Laurier.

James hated how the name left a sour taste in his mouth. Finn wasn’t a bad guy—he was charming, clever, and polite. Too polite, in James’s opinion. Finn Laurier was completely different from James, and that only made the knot of insecurity and jealousy in James’s chest tighten.

While James was loud and brash, Finn had an easygoing, quiet confidence about him. Where James was all about grand gestures and bold declarations, Finn had a knack for subtlety and knowing the right thing to say at the right time. It didn’t help that Finn had somehow managed to claim the spot James had always held at your side, and you didn’t seem to mind.

From across the common room, James watched as Finn leaned in closer to you, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. You laughed at something he said, the sound tugging at James’s heart in a way that made him feel like an idiot.

He slumped back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. “What does she even see in him?” he muttered under his breath.

Sirius, sprawled out beside him, didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “You mean aside from the fact that he’s good-looking, smart, and doesn’t look like he’s been moping for weeks?”

James glared at him. “I’m not moping.”

“Sure, you’re not,” Sirius drawled. “That’s why you’ve been staring at them for the past ten minutes like you’re about to hex him.”

“I’m not going to hex him,” James grumbled. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“That’s very mature of you, Prongs,” Remus chimed in from his corner, not looking up from his book. “But maybe instead of glaring at him, you should focus on fixing things with her.”

“Yeah, because that’s gone so well for me so far,” James shot back bitterly.

“Have you even tried?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

James opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. The truth was, he had tried—at least, he thought he had. But every time he saw you, Finn was there, making you laugh, leaning just a little too close. And every time, James felt like his chances were slipping further and further away.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to ignore the knot of confusion and hurt that James’s behavior had left behind. You weren’t blind to the way he’d been avoiding you, or how he seemed to retreat every time you so much as glanced in his direction.

Finn had been a welcome distraction. He was kind, easy to talk to, and, most importantly, he didn’t make you feel like you’d done something wrong. But even as you laughed at his jokes and listened to his stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling of James’s eyes on you from across the room.

“Everything okay?” Finn asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“You’ve been quiet all of a sudden,” Finn said, tilting his head slightly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you said quickly, offering him a small smile. “I just… I guess I’m a little distracted.”

Finn nodded, his expression understanding. “Fair enough. If you ever want to talk about it…”

“Thanks, Finn,” you said softly, though your gaze drifted back toward James.

He was still sitting on the couch with Sirius, looking like he was caught between frustration and defeat. When your eyes met for the briefest of moments, he quickly looked away, running a hand through his already messy hair.

You sighed, your chest tightening. Whatever had happened between you and James, it felt bigger than anything you could fix with a simple conversation. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle this silent stalemate.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was now James’s second least favorite day—Valentine’s Day. His least favorite day was still the one he’d sat in Charms class and watched you laugh with Finn Laurier for the first time. That moment had burned itself into his memory, playing on a cruel loop every time he closed his eyes.

But this… this was a close second.

If you had told James back in December that he’d be avoiding you on Valentine’s Day instead of spending it as a happy, loved-up couple, he would have called you mad. Back then, he’d been so sure of himself. So sure that his letter, his heartfelt, trembling confession, would be the thing that finally made you see him as more than just James Potter, your goofy best friend.

And yet, here he was, slouched in a chair in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by heart-shaped confetti that refused to disappear no matter how many times he swatted it away. The house elves had really outdone themselves this year—floating cupid decorations zipped around the room, shooting glittering pink arrows into the air. James glared at one that came a little too close, muttering something about “bloody overkill.”

“I hate this,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and sinking lower into his chair.

“Well, don’t be sulking for the whole day,” Sirius said, perched on the arm of the couch nearby. His tone was a mix of amusement and exasperation, his gray eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’re all supposed to go to The Three Broomsticks soon, remember?”

James let out another unintelligible grumble, something that sounded suspiciously like “don’t want to,” though the exact words were lost in his sulk.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Come on, mate, this is getting ridiculous. You’ve been moping around for weeks.”

“I’m not moping,” James shot back, though the words lacked any real conviction.

“You’re literally the definition of moping,” Sirius said, smirking. “You’re sitting here, arms crossed, glaring at a cupid like it personally insulted your family.”

“I don’t want to go to The Three Broomsticks,” James muttered.

“And why not?” Sirius pressed, though James could tell from his tone that he already knew the answer.

James sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Because she might be there,” he admitted quietly.

“She, as in you-know-who?” Sirius teased, though his smirk softened slightly when he saw the genuine frustration on James’s face. “Look, Prongs, you can’t avoid her forever. It’s a small castle. You’re bound to run into her eventually.”

“I know that,” James said, his voice tight. “But I just… I can’t deal with seeing her with him today, alright? Not on bloody Valentine’s Day.”

Sirius leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re assuming she’s spending the day with Finn, but has she actually told you that?”

James hesitated. “No,” he admitted reluctantly. “But why wouldn’t she? He’s—he’s Finn Laurier, for Merlin’s sake. He’s perfect. Why wouldn’t she spend Valentine’s Day with him?”

“You’re an idiot,” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

James blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Sirius said, standing up and stretching, “that instead of sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, you could actually try talking to her. Maybe, just maybe, things aren’t as hopeless as you think.”

James stared at him, his heart hammering in his chest. The idea of approaching you now, after everything, felt like standing at the edge of a cliff. But Sirius’s words planted a small, stubborn seed of hope in his mind.

“Fine,” James muttered, standing up. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m hexing you.”

Sirius grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As James followed Sirius out of the common room, his mind raced with a hundred different scenarios. He wasn’t sure what he’d say if he saw you—or if he even had the courage to say anything at all. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t keep hiding forever. But it looks like the odds were not in his favor–he felt like his world was crumbling. He knew he shouldn't have listened to Sirius, it just made things worse. You had said yes to being Finn’s valentine–and worst of all, who asks a girl out on valentine's day?

James scoffed, his sadness shifting into a simmering anger. He quickly left the scene, Sirius trailed behind him, struggling to keep up with his brisk pace.

“Slow down, Prongs!” Sirius called.

James didn’t respond, only slowing when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. He paused there, allowing Sirius to catch up before muttering the password under his breath. As the portrait swung open, James turned to his friend with a scowl.

“I’m never listening to you again.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius protested, throwing up his hands. “How was I supposed to know Laurier would swoop in right then and there?”

Inside the common room, Remus and Peter exchanged curious glances.

“What happened?” Remus asked, his tone cautious.

“She was right there,” James burst out, his voice rising with frustration. “And so was Laurier. He asked her out! They didn’t even see me—or Sirius, thankfully—but still!” He threw himself into an armchair, running a hand through his already messy hair.

The others stayed silent, unsure how to comfort him.

After an awkward three minutes, Peter cleared his throat and attempted to lighten the mood. “Why don’t we head to the Three Broomsticks? A bit of butterbeer might help take your mind off things.”

For a moment, James said nothing. Then, as if possessed by some newfound resolve, he stood abruptly.

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, surprising everyone. “If she can be completely unbothered after I confessed my undying love for her, then ignore me, and worst of all—start dating some tosser who’s the polar opposite of me—then fine. I’ll move on too. Starting now. Let’s go.”

The other Marauders stared at him, dumbfounded. This wasn’t the James they knew—the James who would spend hours pestering Sirius about why you hadn’t replied to his letters, the James who badgered Remus for details about your every interaction, the James who constantly begged Peter for updates about you in the classes you shared.

It was as if the James Potter they knew had been replaced by someone else entirely.

The streets of Hogsmeade were blanketed with snow, the cold biting at their cheeks as the Marauders made their way to the Three Broomsticks. James led the group, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his jaw set tight. He was unusually quiet, his normal easy going demeanor replaced with something sharper, more defensive.

Sirius tried to break the silence first. “Prongs, mate, you know she didn’t do it to hurt you, right? She probably didn’t even know how you felt.”

James let out a sharp laugh, his breath clouding in the cold air. “She didn’t know? Oh, she knew. I wrote her a bloody letter, Padfoot. I poured my heart out. If she didn’t get the hint, then she’s thicker than I thought—and she’s not thick.”

Sirius grimaced, clearly regretting his choice of words. “Alright, alright, bad point. But still, Laurier? The guy’s got the personality of a Flobberworm.”

“Doesn’t matter,” James muttered. “Apparently, she likes Flobberworms.”

Peter, trying to ease the tension, piped up, “Well, maybe Laurier’s just a rebound, you know? She’ll realize what a tosser he is soon enough.”

Remus shot Peter a warning look, but James seemed too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice.

“Rebound from what?” James muttered. “She’s never been with anyone to rebound from.”

They reached the Three Broomsticks, the warm glow from inside spilling out onto the snow-covered street. The group filed in, quickly finding a table in the back corner. The usual bustling energy of the pub seemed muted to James, his mind too occupied with replaying the moment he’d seen you say yes to Finn Laurier.

A round of butterbeers arrived at the table, and Sirius pushed a tankard in front of James. “Alright, here’s the plan,” Sirius said, leaning forward. “We’re going to have a laugh, you’re going to forget about Laurier, and tomorrow, you’ll go back to being your annoying, charming self. Sounds good?”

James took a long sip of his butterbeer, the warm liquid doing little to ease the ache in his chest. “Yeah, sure. Forget about her. Easy.”

“James,” Remus said gently, “it’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you.”

“I’m not acting,” James snapped, though his tone softened almost immediately. “I’m fine. Really.”

Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus, both of them unconvinced.

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[dfortrafalgar]

Stain

You're awoken from your slumber by Law, only to find an accident that happened overnight.

Warnings: Female periods

Ever the professional, level-headed man, Law barely blinked twice when he realized what he saw out of the corner of his eye when he carefully slipped out from under his bedsheets, leaving you nestled under the warm blankets in a peaceful slumber.  The light from the gas lamp he kept lit in his quarters overnight barely supplied his retinas any way to take in what he noticed, but he still spotted it.

Right beside your curled up form was a splotch of deep red fluid staining the plain white bedsheets.  A larger stain ran from between your legs and up the back of your shorts.

Law grabbed a small agenda you kept beside the bed which helped you keep track of any of your bodily needs being on a pirate ship away from land for most of your time.  You would always blot the days you got your period with red ink to stay on top of when your cycle would most likely appear.  Just as Law anticipated, your cycle arrived a week earlier than you had initially planned.

He made quick work of marking the day’s small box with a blot of red ink for you.  Tucking away the agenda, he shoved aside any of his current early morning plans and instead placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, lightly jostling you awake.  With a grumble, you tucked your head into your arms, hiding your face from the world in a feeble attempt to get more precious sleep.

“Baby, wake up,” Law said with a hushed tone.

“What do you want,” you mumbled into your pillow.

You made a motion to roll over and face your boyfriend, but the slight movement of your body immediately alerted you to the uncomfortable, wet feeling in your shorts.  You propped yourself up on your elbows, gazing over your body, eyes falling on the obvious blood stain that lay below you.

“Oh my god–”

Law’s hand wrapped around your wrist and beckoned you closer.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I ruined your sheets,” you responded with worry laced on your tongue, now fully awake and aware of your situation.  “I didn’t know it would be here so early…”

“You couldn’t have known,” he reassured you with a calm demeanor.  His pulling on your wrist finally caused you to maneuver carefully towards him, allowing Law to scoop his arms under your legs and haul you out of bed.

You cringed at the feeling between your legs.  “I’m so sorry.”  Your arms wrapped around his neck for stability. 

Law responded by placing a kiss to the top of your head.  He used his foot to open his small private bathroom, allowing you to step out of his arms and onto the floor.  Wordlessly, he started the tap of the metal bathtub, letting hot water flow into the basin.  You watched helplessly as he opened a tiny wooden linen cupboard, procuring two towels, an unopened bar of light soap, and a very small bottle of a lavender scented body wash.  

The sight made you crack a smile.  “Where did you get a lavender body wash?”

“Stole it from an inn we stayed at on an island.  Free soap and shampoo can’t be beat,” he muttered.  You snorted, which made your boyfriend smile at you, amused by the situation himself.  He turned back to you after placing the items on the side of the bath.  “You get undressed, I’ll change the bed.” With a frown, you removed your bed shirt.  “You really shouldn't, I'm the one that made the mess.”

“Nah, you can’t make a mess when you’re sleeping.”  Law held out his hand towards you when you removed your ruined shorts and underwear.  You were bare in front of him, knowing that you had absolutely nothing you could hide from him even if you wanted to.  (He had already seen every inch of you.)  

“What?” you asked, confused, looking at his hand.

“I’ll clean your shorts.”

“Huh?  No, they’re disgusting now, I can just throw them out!”

Law grabbed the tiny bottle of body wash from the side of the tub.  Staring at you with his steely gray eyes, he uttered something under his breath that was drowned out by the sound of the gushing water flowing into the basin.  Suddenly, your hand grasped the body wash, and Law’s hand held the cleaner portion of your panties and shorts.  With a smirk, he said, “I’ll clean them.”

“You’re so stubborn,” you retorted with a pout that quickly turned into a pleased smile.  “You treat me so well.”

“Of course I do.  Now get in the bath and clean up.”

“Aye aye, captain,” you mused with a chuckle.  Law rolled his eyes, leaving you to bathe in private, knowing his coy smirk gave away any hint of feigned annoyance.

You rinsed your lower body before settling into the bath, sighing at the warmth flooding across your skin.  The metal wash basin kept the water insulated, which kept you much warmer for longer.  It was pure bliss, steam slowly flowing through the air.  You could easily fall back into a nice sleep like this, but you could already hear Law’s disapproving voice in your ear advising you not to.  ‘Your skin will dry out and you’ll get sores and those will get infected,’ he’d probably say.  He was always so matter-of-fact when it came to anything medical, not that you could really blame him.

With a hum, you poured some of the body wash into your hands and scrubbed it along your body, inhaling the soothing scent that wafted through the steam.  Your boyfriend was really too good to you.  Most people would be revolted waking up to a blood stain from a period in their bed, but Law couldn’t be phased by anything.  It was nature, it was a fact of life.  He gave you no room to be embarrassed, which made you quickly shove down any shame you felt and replace it with relief and glee that you were lucky enough to end up with a man so understanding and empathetic in his own strange ways.

You didn’t know how much time passed, your eyes closed taking in all the warmth you could from the soothing bath, now accompanied by a lingering floral aroma in the air.  You jumped slightly at the sound of the narrow door swinging open with a creak, revealing the lanky form of Law with a brand new change of clothes in his hands.  Tucked in his arm with your clothes was a small box of tampons and a slightly larger plastic bag full of wrapped pads.

“I got them from the crew bathroom, I realized we ran out in here.”  He placed the items on the lid of the tiny toilet that occupied his private bathroom.  “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, really, just a bit embarrassed still,” you replied.

Law nodded.  “I get it.”  He procured your previous pair of underwear from the pocket of his sweatpants.  With a smug grin, he held them up in his one hand, making the fabric sway back and forth in the air.  “Look, no stain.”

Your eyes widened.  They looked brand new.  “How did you do that?”

The raven-haired man simply shrugged, waggling his fingers on his free hand.  “Little devil fruit abuse.”

You groaned.  “You do too much!”

He shoved them back into his pocket.  “I think I do just enough.  But if you want to pay me back somehow, I wouldn’t say no.”  He flashed a coy wink toward you.

You cupped water in your hands and flung it at him, making him jump backward with a shout.  “You sly bastard!” you chided with a hearty laugh.

Law couldn’t fight his own chuckle that bubbled from his lungs as he perched on the edge of the tub, leaning his elbow on his knee as he dragged his lean fingers through your damp hair.  You leaned into his touch, warmth from the bath water as well as his tender caresses making the blood in your veins spark with boundless affection… until a hefty yawn forced its way out.

You pouted.  “You treat me so well, but you did wake me up.”

“Yeah?” your boyfriend added.

“I’m expecting you to let me sleep in tomorrow to make up for this.”

“No-can-do, sweetpea.  You’re on morning watch.”

The Surgeon of Death quieted your protest with a firm kiss to your lips, his heart hammering behind his sternum as you dropped the subject and smiled against his skin.

[highdefhoetry]

i'm yours.

cw: nsfw!! female/afab reader, first time having sex (could be loss of virginity or just first time with each other), penetration (penis in vagina), oral sex/eating out, marking/biting/hickies, G-spot stimulation, multiple orgasms, possessiveness, body worship, sex drunk caleb

a/n: i wanted to write something soft and sweet for my first caleb smut. i tried to keep yandere elements, just toned down a bit. please enjoy!

The memory of your first time with him is as clear as freshwater.

The low, warm lighting of the bedroom. The softness of the bed sheets. The faint sound of r&b playing in the background. And the smell of Caleb permeating your senses. His scent was poignant and nostalgic, a mix between your childhood and the rugged man he’s grown into. It happened suddenly yet smoothly, as if he had been planning for this moment for a long time, as if he had been waiting patiently for his chance to strike. 

You had fallen asleep on the couch again. And Caleb, as always, had carried you to bed so he could tuck you in. He laid you down softly, pushed some of your hair out of your face, and leaned in to kiss your forehead. When your eyelids fluttered open, you were met with a warm smile and a friendly chuckle.

“Sorry, pipsqueak. Did I wake you up?”

He sat down on the bed beside you, quietly admiring the way you looked when half-asleep. You called out his name in a soft voice, barely audible yet not failing to reach his ears. 

“Yeah?” he responded, leaning over you with both hands at either side of your body, trapping you in place on the bed. His amethyst eyes locked onto yours, filling you with an indescribable emotion. When you glanced away, he took your chin in hand and turned your head back towards him.

“Look at me.”

Now, there was no escape. He caressed your bottom lip with his thumb, trailing his fingers to the side of your face before cupping your cheek. Then slowly, slowly, he leaned forward for a kiss.

You met his lips willingly, leaving the door wide open to welcome him inside.

He lost his composure within seconds, his tender kiss turning into something ravenous and wild. His teeth bit your bottom lip, his tongue forced its way into your mouth, his breath mingled with yours and left you gasping for air. Big, strong hands gripped your hair, lightly tugging it from the roots for a second or two before pulling harder.

The monster he’d been holding back his whole life had been freed. And he was going to devour you whole.

One arm wrapped itself behind your back, pulling you in close. He climbed on top of you, straddling your waist so that escape was impossible. His other hand roamed your body, groping your breasts, stroking the sides of your waist, grabbing onto your hips and thighs. Your gasps and moans spurred him on, and soon his own voice joined yours. 

“You’re mine…” he mumbled in between hot, staggered breaths. “You’re finally mine…”

His lips grazed your skin, kissing a path from your jaw to your neck. You felt yourself shiver as Caleb’s lips smiled against your skin. A chuckle reached your ears, and the sensation of fingertips crawling up your waist caused electric shocks to ripple through your body. 

“You’ve always been super sensitive, haven’t you?” he mused aloud, making sure to kiss and lick every part of you that he could reach. It’s like he had mapped out your entire body, studied every part of you that made you react the most to his touch. His kisses turned into soft love bites and left lip-shaped marks on your skin. He moved from one side to another, until it felt like your entire neck was covered with his remnants. 

There would be no hiding this come tomorrow. Everyone would know who you belonged to.

One large hand spanked your pussy, forcing a small shriek from your lips. He chuckled and did it again, rubbing his hand against your swollen bud that throbbed from every touch. His thumb circled your clit for a few moments, but only for a few. Unable to hold himself back, he ripped your pajama shorts down your legs to grant himself further access. Next, your pajama top was ripped off, leaving you completely nude. He paused for a moment, seemingly lost in the sight of your naked body. Something he had dreamed of admiring with his own eyes since you both came of age. He seemed almost hypnotized, but soon enough his hunger returned in full force. 

He pulled his sleeveless shirt off over his head and tore off his pants and boxers with lightning speed. You looked down and saw his pulsing cock, mouth gaping as you took on his size and shape. He was big. And thick. Its girth was more than modest, and the reddish tip curved up slightly. He pushed it against your opening, but didn’t go inside. Instead, he pressed his lips against yours in another desperate kiss, hands trailing down your body one last time before resting on your thighs.

A small line of spit connected the two of you when he pulled away from the kiss. Your eyes locked onto one another, gazing into their depths for several long moments before he finally looked away. He shifted downwards, took your thighs in both hands to spread them apart so he could bury his face in between them. His mouth encompassed your lips and clit, sucking and licking them in worship of your pleasure. You grabbed fistfuls of his hair, mewling in a high pitched voice as he ate you out hungrily. He tasted every inch of you, licked between the folds, stuck his tongue into your hole. The tip of his tongue swirled around your bud, lingering there while you sang in octaves and reached your crescendo. When your back arched and your toes curled, he kissed up your stomach until he reached your face. You tasted yourself on his lips, pushing your own tongue into his mouth to lap up what he had eaten.

The bed sheets beneath you were soaking wet. A thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, along with his. He glided inside you smoothly, taking care not to hurt you despite his massive size. His cock filled you up completely, hitting your G-spot in just the right way to make you scream. That curved tip of his was a perfect fit. As if you were made to be together.

Once he eased his way into you, his strokes became swift and rapid. He lost all control, fucking you like an animal who had lost all inhibitions. First he stayed in missionary, to look at the contorting expressions on your face as he pushed himself deep inside you. Then, he lifted your legs in the air and rested them on his shoulders, still pounding into your tight little hole. He grunted with every pump, each one more euphoric than the last. His eyes glaze over with pleasure and affection, as if he was living out a lifelong daydream. Little droplets of sweat drip from his forehead onto your body, mixing with your own.

He took your ankles in both hands and held them out to either side, allowing him to penetrate you even deeper. All the while his eyes focused on your face, drinking in the pleasure reflected in your eyes. You made sounds you didn’t think were possible, spluttered out remnants of sentences and words that never quite came to be. 

It was amazing. It was phenomenal. It was something you’d never forget for as long as you lived.

He fucked you for a long time, refusing to cum until he was satisfied. And back then, it felt like he never would be. He whispered your praises over soaked, sweat-stained sheets, affection falling from his lips like droplets of water.

“Mine… all mine…” he said while grasping your hips.

“I’ll never let you go…” he grunted before gripping the backs of your thighs.

“You’ll always belong to me…” he growled as he nibbled your ear.

You lost count of how many times you came, how much pleasure rippled through your body, how many moans had fallen from your lips. Your nails dug into his skin whenever they grasped part of him. There were marks on his forearms, his shoulders, his back. Marks that claimed him as yours, mirroring the ones he left behind on you.

After what felt like forever, he suddenly exploded inside of you. Warm cum filled you up, so much that it dripped out of your hole long after he pulled out. He stared at the thick white cream with a wicked smile, laying his last claim on you. His fingers gently caressed the teeth marks on your thighs, as well as the ones on your neck and collarbone. He leaned forward and kissed every single one until each mark on your skin had been soothed by his lips.

“Are you alright?” he asked while stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”

You shook your head and threw your arms around his neck. He smiled and kissed your cheeks and forehead.

“I want to hear you say it,” he demanded, running his long fingers through your hair. “Say you’re mine. You already know I’m yours.”

You paused for a moment, gazing into the deep plum of his eyes that longed for your returned feelings. Then, after kissing him one last time, you said the words he wanted to hear the most.

“I’m yours.”

[comflexxed]

june stood silently beside hans, watching the way his husband’s gaze lingered on the newly planted rows of vegetables. everything was perfectly aligned, the system simple but efficient — every bit of it bearing hans’s careful touch. there was something so satisfying about seeing the yard come together, about knowing how much effort they’d poured into it, side by side.

as hans spoke, june’s eyes softened, his thumb brushing idly over hans’s knuckles where their hands were linked. “you’re right,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. “it’s not just a garden anymore. it’s everything we’ve made for ourselves.”

he took a slow step forward, his gaze sweeping over the yard. it was far from perfect, but it didn’t need to be. there were patches of uneven soil, the faint smell of fertilizer still lingering in the air, and the tools they’d left scattered along the edge of the fence — but to june, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. because it was theirs.

his lips quirked into a smile as he spotted jinx sitting primly near the flower beds, her tail flicking lazily, while scooter sniffed along the edge of the garden, leaving paw prints in the freshly raked soil. “looks like the supervisors approve of our progress,” june teased, his voice warm with affection. “though i’m starting to think scooter believes this is his kingdom, not ours.” he glanced over at him, caught for a moment by the way the sun cast a golden glow over his face. he reached out, brushing a bit of dirt off hans’s cheek with his thumb, and leaned in to press a kiss to his temple.

“i don’t think i’ve ever felt this settled before,” june admitted after a long moment. his voice was quieter now, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the peace that had settled over them. he looked back at the house, its silhouette familiar now, almost unrecognizable from the worn and weathered structure it had been when they first arrived. they’d worked hard to bring it back to life. from picking out furniture to patching up the floors, every inch of it carried their combined effort.

turning his attention back to hans, june tilted his head slightly, his expression softening further. he took a step closer, their bodies brushing now as he lifted hans’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “i love this feeling too,” he murmured. “i love the fact that i get to do this with you.”

it had been a few more days of hard work on their garden, a few more days of being more settled in their space. it looked and felt more like home by the day, their habits as a couple starting to form as they navigated this new life together. just like that day, there were moments like these, in between busy bouts in the garden, for them to take a pause and reflect on what they had done so far. 

hans had just finished setting up stakes for a row of crawling vines, preparing them for the growing vegetables he wanted to harvest to sell, and as he looked at the completed row, he felt excited to see them growing even if he could not see the growth just yet. he had set up a makeshift watering system too, which would make watering and fertilizing the plants easier. 

a few of the seedings he planted early had already sprouted, and he was admiring them as june walked beside him, laying a gentle kiss on his head. “it does,” he agreed, turning his face to june, smiling fondly as he relished in this vulnerable moment they both shared. “this yard, it contains more than just the earth and the seeds now. it holds our future, our hopes and dreams.” 

scooter and jinx had developed their own little habit of walking around the garden too, leaving their own footprints in the earth as they padded along as if surveying the work done for the day. as hans caught them in the corners of his eyes, he couldn't help but feel warm inside. “it feels like we’ve truly found our rhythm as a family, doesn’t it?” 

he threw a quick glance inside their house, now furnished with a few more items they had picked up here and there, the structure almost feeling sturdier now than when they first arrived. later, before bed, he would take out his journal and add to his entries about the house, documenting the work they’d done as he promised the old lady.

it’s how each day had been, and hans felt his fondness for their home grow even more. “i like this feeling,” he spoke as he turned his gaze back to his husband, his fingers twined with june’s effortlessly, his eyes promising to share in these moments of reflection. “like we are making life happen, one day at a time.” 

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Holy fuck…” Matt groans, throwing himself face down on his bed, right next to where you lay. He’d been out at meetings for new merch ideas all day while you sat at home worry free.

“What’s goin’ on?” You didn’t even have to ask, poor boy was stressed out. You shift your weight on the mattress, rubbing comforting circles on his back.

“Stupid people, never listening to us.” He mumbles into the plush surface. The three of them left at 10am and it was now 5pm. Seven whole hours of meetings. Not only was he stressed but most definitely exhausted too.

Matt rolls onto his back, closing his eyes and letting you soothingly scratch at his scalp. “We deadass told them we didn’t want that design but the team insisted! And it’s god awful ugly y/n. Horrific.” He rolls his eyes at the memory, voice laced with frustration.

“I’m sorry baby… anything I can do to help?” you offer, as if going to the building downtown and telling off their management would be any help.

He thinks for a moment before speaking up. “Yeah, actually…” Matt turns his head to you, a devilish smirk painted on his face. You raise a brow at him, having an idea of what could come of this whole situation. “Strip for me.” He states, moving to the edge of the bed.

Without a fight, you stand in front of Matt, undressing yourself piece by piece. His eyes glued to your body as you do so.

“So fuckin’ sexy…” Matt growls, pulling you onto his lap. Wrapping your manicured nails around his neck, he wastes no time attacking your lips in a searing kiss. His hands roaming down to cup your ass, he begins to rock you against his denim clad thigh.

“M-Matt…” you whine against his lips, your bare pussy leaving a wet spot on the fabric beneath you. Matt only hums in response, trailing harsh kisses down your jaw and right behind your ear.

“Gonna let me take my stress out on you?” He purrs in your ear, his breath tickling your skin. Matt bucks his hips up, letting you feel just how aroused he is.

You intensify your grinding, searching for any sort of friction you can. The feeling of his jeans against your clit being pure ecstasy. He doesn’t let you continue for too long though.

Flipping you over, he climbs on top of you. Simultaneously pulling his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. Continuing to place wet kisses on your bare skin, he’s slowly making his way down to your heat, his nails gripping your thighs with vulgar intent.

“Mhm, so wet f’me already…” Matt’s voice tantalizing as he runs his index finger through your folds. He peers up at you, almost as if he’s seeking approval from you. When you meet his eyes with desperation, Matt doesn’t waver.

His tongue darts out, licking at your clit which causes you to arch your back off of the mattress. When he notices, he decides to add a finger into your sopping wet pussy, slowly stretching you out for his cock.

With vigorous flits of the tongue and his digits pumping in and out of you, you’re nearly already there. Your fingers grasping at his brunette strands in attempt to strengthen the pleasure.

“F-fuck…! Need your cock Matt…” your words are strung together in broken moans, Matt laps at your clit once more before hovering above you again. He fumbles with his jeans, speedily unzipping them, he wiggles the denim off of his body, followed by his briefs.

“How bad you need it, princess?” He teases, one hand stroking his already hard dick in preparation. The other hand holding him up above you.

“Don’t make me beg,” you pout, despite you words, you find yourself spreading your legs further apart. Matt chuckles, running his dick through your slick, eliciting a whimper from you.

Finally, he pushes himself inside of you, slowly stretching out your gummy walls at which you both moan. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, sure to leave crescent shaped imprints later.

“Shit- so perfect… pussy was made for me.” Matt croaks, his thrusts starting off slow, allowing you to adjust to his size. He leans down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before he quickens his pace. Now standing on the hardwood floor, his rough hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as Matt fucks himself into you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and your echoed moans bounce off of the walls of Matt’s bedroom. Your eyes pinch shut from pleasure, Matt taking in the sight of you spread out on his silk sheets.

“Look at you, my girl…” he continues to praise you, talk you through it. You’re a babbling mess beneath him, his cock ghosting your cervix with each brutal thrust. He pulls out, hastily flipping you over.

Instinctually, you arch your back, showing off your ass as your face is buried into one of his few pillows. It doesn’t take long for Matt to slip himself back inside of you. Now, his pace even faster than before— if even possible. Matt snakes a hand around your throat, gripping onto it as if to steady himself.

“Gonna- gonna cum!” You yelp, now squeezing your palms around his pillow. Matt doesn’t verbally respond to your words, instead, his hips move with vigor. Long, deep thrusts into your pussy. He can feel you tightening around him he knows you’re approaching your limit, though, he doesn’t care.

Your walls clench around his cock, squeezing him tight. You can feel the knot in your stomach— it’s about to snap in half. Your lewd moans are muffled by his pillow as your body shudders with each of your boyfriends thrusts.

Your body falls weak against his bed. Matt still slamming into you and he didn’t plan on stopping until he got his fix. He looks down at where the two of you are connected, his now cum coated base disappearing inside of you as slams your hips back toward his.

“Fuck- I can’t… sh-shit,” you mumble into the plush fabric. You could most definitely go for another round, maybe even two more rounds. It felt so fucking good. You didn’t want him to stop.

“Yes you can, I’ve- mm… fuck- I’ve seen you go longer.” He grunts between moans, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Matt continues his intense thrusts, not once slowing down.

Matt had rendered you speechless. The euphoric high from your previous orgasm still washing over you, the few coherent words you’re able to speak are nonsense.

“Got you fucked dumb? Look at you, all stupid on my dick. You love it baby.” Matt snickered, his own climax approaching. “Talk t’me, angel. Feel good?” He continues, in response, you reach behind you, grasping his wrists. “Feels fucking perfect for me- shit, you want me to cum in you?”

Given your current state, you’re shocked at the fact that Matt is even able to form complete sentences. Your grip on his wrists tightens and you whimper out a weak ‘yes’. Matt pulls you upward so you’re kneeling on the bed, your back against his chest.

He forces your head toward his own, connecting the two of you with a kiss. Matt whimpers against your lips, both of you feeling his cock twitch inside of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and inconsistent.

“Gonna fill you up so…fucking good…” he moans into your mouth. Prodding himself as deep as he can, you feel thick ropes of his cum shoot inside of you. The both of you panting and breathless from your interaction.

“Shit…” you sigh, Matt’s now softening cock still buried in your hole. He leans down, placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

“Always so good for me.” Matt chirps, his hands resting on your hips. You pull off of him, your juices and his dripping down the inside of your thighs.

“C’mon, gonna get you cleaned up.” Matt stands, offering his hand for you. “Feel much, much better now. Just letting you know.” He smirks, slapping your ass when you get off the bed.

“Mhm… glad I could help ‘ya.” You giggle, leaning up on your toes for yet another kiss.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[bombuni]

say yes

summary: The two times Jongho tries to confess, and the one time he does. genre/pairing: jongho x fem!reader, bff!yeosang x reader (platonic), fluff, college au, pining warnings: jealous!jongho, mentions of drinking, implied nsfw at the end bom note: my bday is today so im celebrating w this thank u me this is cute asf🫰 also enjoy a playlist i made for this fic! ps i feel like i didn’t rlly do this trope justice especially w jjong but i just really wanted something cute and fluffy. either way, enjoy!<3 RIBO NATION FOREVER

You don’t really remember how or why it started.

You just remember that one day, you entered Yeosang’s new apartment and were greeted by a strange, albeit handsome, face. You remember stumbling over your greeting as he looked you over, all too casual in the way his eyes roamed your being. You remember the first time your eyes were met with his angelic gummy smile as he spoke his first words to you (you remember them exactly; “I’m Jongho. Didn’t know Yeosang was gonna bring over pretty girls often.” it stuck with you for days like gum on your shoe.) and how your heart skipped many beats.

Alright, maybe you do remember exactly how and why you fell for Choi Jongho.

You feel a poke on your cheek that wakes you out of your daydreams, “Having another Choi Dream?”

Yeosang stretches as your professor drones on, his laptop screen completely blank. He spends most of his time in this class showing you cat videos and bothering you as you attempt to take notes.

“A what? What is that?”

He mindlessly scribbles on your paper, “It’s what I’m calling your fantasies about Jongho. You do it a lot.”

Unfortunately, having Yeosang as your best friend means he knows exactly what you’re thinking about all the time. He’s quietly observant of you, and he seems to have noticed all the discreet glances you direct towards Jongho.

Well, it’s hard not to realize your feelings when you yap Yeosang’s ear off about how ‘sexy’ (your words-not his) Jongho looks every night.

You don’t have the option to deny his factual statement, “You better not say that in front of him.”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender as your professor finally declares the lesson over. You’ll regret not paying attention later. For now, it’s a Friday and your last class has ended. You follow Yeosang out the building doors and into the breeze of the outside world. He throws an arm around your shoulders when he sees you shiver. The autumn leaves crunch under your feet as you walk towards wherever he takes you.

Yeosang hums in thought before finally speaking, “Ya know…I really think Jongho feels the same way about you. I can feel it in my gut,”

His tummy rumbles as you pat it, eliciting a chuckle from you, “Think you’re just hungry, guy.”

“Hmm…you’re right. Where should we go…?“

You wait for Yeosang to finish his thought, hand resting comfortably on his hoodie as you peer over the campus. It’s an oddly perfect day. The temperature isn’t too hot or too cold. The wind blows through your hair just enough to give you a movie star look. There’s people living their lives all around on old benches and picnic tables.

You’re broken out of your thoughts when Jongho’s voice pulls at your insides and drags you to the real world.

Jongho’s used to your closeness with Yeosang. He’d be institutionalized by now if he wasn’t. He tries to greet you both casually, but he can’t find it in himself. You’ve been friends with Yeosang for years, he knows that, this is normal for you.

But your hand rests so comfortably, so assuredly on Yeosang’s tummy. Such an intimate spot that raises a tinge of heat inside Jongho. He’s found you do that a lot to him ever since you met. You infuriate him and placate him all the same.

What a cliche, he thinks to himself, falling for my roommate’s best friend.

“What? Baby got a tummy ache?” He points to where your hand rests. The teasing smile on his face isn’t the same as the usual expression he wears when he makes fun of you. Like he’s holding something back.

You’re almost too quick in your removal of your hand, Yeosang’s wide eyes meeting yours as you push his arm off you, “Baby’s hungry. We’re gonna grab something to eat. Wanna join?”

You know the look Yeosang is giving you. It’s the disbelieving, doe-eyed, ‘Jesus, how bad do you want this guy?’ look he gives you every time Jongho comes around.

Jongho’s too focused on you to notice the way Yeosang’s eyes burrow into your head, “Sure. Long as you stop referring to Yeosang as ‘baby.’ It’s gross.”

Yeosang harrumphs as the three of you begin to walk, “I’m not gross.”

Jongho’s gut lights up again when you coo, “Aww. You are just a little, though.”

Your bickering is cute, sure. In fact, he finds it adorable how pouty you get every time he teases you. It’s just not as cute when you direct that attention to Yeosang.

Whatever.

He’ll figure it out later. Right now, he intends to share a good meal with a cute girl. And his roommate. He’ll focus on the first part.

-

The second time you notice he’s holding something back, you wake up in Yeosang’s bed.

Yeosang is stiff as a board beside you, bundled up and snoring away after your late night study session. He’d turned in early, leaving you and Jongho alone for a couple hours. It was nice to pretend he was all yours. You remember the way his heart-shaped lips sipped his Americano. The way his glasses slipped down his button nose every time he’d look down at your work. So cutely attuned to your success. He’d been so close you could smell his cologne all night and you’re pretty sure it fogged your memory. You definitely didn’t retain any of the information he tried to teach you.

You move over Yeosang’s resting body to get up as you hear the coffee maker in the kitchen. You don’t think as you drag whatever article of clothing nearest to you over your body. Just as long as it warms you up.

Jongho’s back faces you as you enter their tiny kitchen. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in such an…intimate setting. From what you can see he still has his bed head, drowsy yawns falling from his lips as he moves around. What really gets you is the thin undershirt he wears, fully exposing the warm skin of his arms that he’s always hiding. Just the sight of his broad shoulders has you dizzy. It’s almost jarring, like you’ve just plunged yourself into an ice bath first thing in the morning. You have to pretend to be normal as he notices you.

“Morning. Did I wake you?”

“Ah, no-“ you stumble over your words and your face burns as he raises a mug to his lips. It’s dwarfed by his hand. He leans on the countertop, casually taking in your flustering, babbling self.

You try to collect yourself, “I usually wake up early anyways.”

The smile he gives you sends another wave of butterflies-no, those must be wasps-flowing through your tummy.

“Good. Didn’t wanna ruin your beauty sleep or anything.”

The amount of emotions you’re going through this early pisses you off. You blush harder as you attempt to fight the bashful giggles that make their way through you, “Don’t worry, I don’t need sleep to look this beautiful.”

He chuckles and mutters a ‘sure’ before turning to prepare you a cup of coffee. It gives you another great view of his back muscles, which flex with every move he makes. Watching him is hypnotizing. Especially as he stretches his arms into the air, letting your eyes roam over every inch of him. The expanse of his body is…intimidating. You wonder if you could really take him.

Too early for those kind of thoughts, you think.

You shake your head and decide to do something rather than gawk at Jongho. You rummage through the cabinets, looking for Yeosang’s cakes you know he hides from you. With your back to Jongho, he tries to hand you your cup of coffee before pausing. He spots something. Usually he takes any chance he gets to watch you bent over, but the large letters on your back stops him from enjoying the sight. You’re too absorbed in your search to notice his confounded silence.

He manages to mutter out a pained sound, disguising it as curiosity, “Kang…?”

You turn towards him, confused. You realize, with Jongho’s accusing finger, raised eyebrow, and adorably frustrated face, that you’re wearing Yeosang’s team hoodie. The one that brands you as his with his last name sprawled out in big, black letters.

“Oh! I didn’t really see what I was putting on-“

There’s a pout on his face. He shoves the mug into your hands, still careful not to burn you. Before you can say anything, he’s forcing your body backwards into the counter as he stretches to retrieve something from the cabinet above you. He’s so close as he rummages, giving you a clear view of the adorable mole on his neck you always think about kissing. He smells like fresh laundry.

It’s not even like he’s doing it on purpose. He’s just so big that it unintentionally shoves you into him. Trapped between the counter and his chest is exactly where you want to be. You hope he never finds the snacks you’re looking for as your mouth salivates at the sight of his vast collarbone.

He finally snaps you of out of your wet dreams, “Sorry. He usually hides them in the way back.”

He pretends like the blush on your face doesn’t have him giddy to high heaven. The pout from before is gone now, replaced with a cocky smirk he’s trying hard to hold back. He might enjoy watching you break a little too much, making no attempt to move as he memorizes the way your wide eyes look below him.

You breath in sync, and you’re sure he’s leaning in closer and closer…

“You know…” he sips on his coffee, “Next time you’re cold, just ask me. I’ll give you my hoodie.”

Then he retreats to his bedroom. Like it never happened.

-

The third and final time, you’re at Wooyoung’s birthday get-together he’d decided to host for you.

Watching Jongho gulp down drink after drink, so casual in his enforcement of self-control and power, has you really regretting the intimate setting. He looks breathtaking in the oversized jacket, and it’s affecting you even more now that you know what he’s hiding under those layers. You love how quietly alluring he is for you, drawing you in by just existing.

You’re not a light-weight, but you fear the effect of the drinks you did have are sped up by Jongho’s charm. Wooyoung and Yunho seem to notice your star struck manner and refuse to let up on the teasing, making up new ways every minute to make you blush harder.

Jongho’s busy talking to Mingi and Hongjoong across the room, but he’s not entirely focused on the conversation. He keeps hearing giggles from the three of you and he can’t help but turn his head every few minutes to throw a suspicious glance towards you. Hongjoong thinks he’s like a watchdog.

He sips his drink idly as Jongho turns back towards the conversation, “You act like they’re gonna chew her to bits.”

Jongho pretends to look confused, raising a questioning eyebrow and scoffing. Mingi doesn’t let him get away with it.

“Yeosang told me you’re the one who wanted to do this party in the first place.”

“I merely suggested the idea-“

Mingi continues, “You have an entire list of gift ideas.”

Jongho grumbles and gives up in his act of nonchalance. Instead of admitting anything, he only rolls his eyes and attempts to walk away as the two men shout at him to grow a pair. He pretends not to know them as the crowd around them turn to stare.

It’s overwhelming inside and you don’t even know half of the people coming up to you to wish you a happy birthday. Yeosang’s nowhere to be found and without your other half to fuel you, you decide to get a breath of fresh air. You hear Wooyoung’s cackle from somewhere inside the house.

It’s a cool night. The moon isn’t shining as much as it can, but it illuminates enough to let your senses come down and decompress. The porch is littered with trash from drunken party-goers, cigarette ashes covering the railing. The wind is a nice companion as it passes through, although, and it makes you forget about the mess inside of the house and inside of you.

For a moment. Before one of the major causes of your anxiety seems to find its way towards you again.

Jongho’s voice is teasing, “Wooyoung’s gonna be mad if he finds you out here.”

He leans onto the railing a few feet from you. Like he’s afraid to be near you, as if he wasn’t stealing your breath and pressing himself right against you the other day.

You chuckle at the thought, “He’s definitely too drunk to even know what’s going on right now.”

You feel his stare burn through the side of your face. It’s a strange pressure you feel in your heart, familiar but threatening. A steady beat with suspicious undertones.

Jongho’s breath catches for a moment, hesitant before voicing his question, “Is it…I mean, are you having fun?”

There’s a quiet, hidden vulnerability in his words. He wants to ask something deeper, something that actually allows you to reveal yourself to him but ‘fun’ is all he can manage. There’s already a blush creeping up the back of his neck and he hopes to God you don’t notice when you turn to look at him.

You look at him with stars in your eyes and the air is almost knocked out of him, “‘Course I am. Especially out here with you.”

He’s so careful in his attempt to hide his shyness, but you see right through him. You see the need for connection and honesty, as hidden as it is. You’re just not sure whether it’s on the same level of connection that you want. Jongho only smiles shyly at your words, biting back his full gummy smile.

He moves closer, standing upright and facing you fully. He hesitates for a moment, fumbling with his hands before he holds a gift bag to you like a kid asking for Halloween candy.

“Here.” He gestures hurriedly, embarrassment growing every moment that passes by with your eyes locked onto the brown paper bag.

“This is…for me?”

Jongho pouts and shakes the bag in annoyance, “What does it look like?”

“Alright, if you’re gonna be sassy-“

He rolls his eyes and pulls the gift out himself, shoving it towards you once again in an attempt to hide his shaking hand.

It’s the necklace you’d been eyeing. The one you hadn’t told anybody about, but kept looking back to on the online storefront. You’d just been waiting for the right moment to buy it, but Jongho beat you to it.

Your hands touch his as you take it and Jongho has to manually breath, “How did you-“

“You kept looking at it in between our study sessions. I don’t know if it’s the right color.”

You stop his bashfulness, “Jongho. It’s perfect.”

That seems to soothe him, “Okay, good.”

There’s a moment of silence between you as you inspect the pretty necklace in your hands. He’s too focused on the look on your face. The dorky smile you don’t even know is there, the same one you get every time you guess a homework answer correct. This feeling has been filling his chest uncomfortably for the past few months, and now he’s gotten to the point of bursting watching the giddy giggles pour out of you.

That past shyness is gone now, “You know I like you, right?”

“…What?”

He pouts, “I thought I made it pretty obvious.”

The necklace is forgotten now, “Uh…no?”

He rolls his eyes again (prick) before pulling you into a kiss. It’s the kind of once in a lifetime kiss that makes your knees buckle and the tingles in your spine grow into fireworks. His hand on your cheeks moves down to your waist, pulling you in to have you as close as possible. Jongho thinks that as long as he touches you, he’s grounded. Won’t float off into outer space like he wants to as your glossed lips move against his.

The wind blows again and you can’t help but giggle as you both sway. Jongho can’t help but swoon when he hears that harp-like sound again, repeating it over and over in his brain until he hears another angelic sound from you to keep him afloat.

One kiss and he’s already addicted.

Your hands land on his broad chest as he holds you against him, “Ok, that was pretty obvious.”

“Shut it.”

You kiss him again. Again and again and again until he’s satisfied.

bonus:

Wooyoung had insisted on opening your presents once the party had ended, left only with your close knit group of friends.

There’s red solo cups littered on the floor and San trips over nothing as he attempts to give you an emotionally charged congratulatory hug. You choose to ignore the snot stains he leaves on your shirt as Jongho pulls him off you. Hongjoong giggles beside him.

“Ok, this one-“ Seonghwa hiccups, “is from me and Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung claps beside you as Seonghwa hands you the crinkled Dollar Tree baby shower themed bag.

“Aww! You guys, you really didn’t have to-“

There’s a collective pause before the room bursts into laughter. Only Seonghwa remains stone-faced and serious.

Jongho grimaces at the pink, fuzzy handcuffs you hold in your hand. Yunho wolf-whistles beside him, as if the younger won’t do anything to hurt him once he’s sober and able to feel it.

Seonghwa attempts to shush the crowd, “I want you-“ he points towards Jongho, “to use these wisely and responsibly, okay?”

Wooyoung attempts to hug Jongho from behind, “Our little bear, all grown up…”

The night ends with Wooyoung handcuffed to his own stair railing.

[lonesomedovescry]

somewhere out there, a universe where arthur didn’t die alone, bruised, battered and sick on a mountainside, exists in the crook of the northern star.

in this universe, he dies old and half deaf. years of unprotected gunfire and explosions had a tendency to kill the nerves in your ears. he dies with aching joints and sun-spotted skin, and blessedly, to the sound of you humming as you stroked the scar on his chin with the pad of your wrinkled thumb. you were nestled against him in bed, sharing the warmth of your old body and his old body and making a den of heat beneath the quilt of your shared bed.

he had been staring down at you and admiring the way the sun dappled the roots of your hair and the way your lashes brushed against your skin. even with the grooves of life upon your flesh you were the most beautiful thing he had seen.

“your name is carved in my ribs.” he had said to you quietly, breath heavy and hard to lift. “i was born to love you.”

you tilted your head up to look at him. an unspoken question welled up in your eyes with crystalline tears. as he squeezed you against him with the strength of the arm he had wrapped around your waist to give you a kiss on your forehead, you knew.

what a beautiful life you had together. through the shelling of the band and Dutch’s betrayal it had always been the both of you. you made a life beneath the wood in the homelands of Rain Falls, who had passed years before. children came and went, and so did grandchildren — who often pulled from Arthur the richest laughs you’ve ever heard.

you leaned up and kissed his jaw, his eyes, the apple of his throat. through each you whispered words of gratitude. words of love. words of promises.

“ill find you, morgan.” You said cloyingly, your voice wavering. “you’re not so clever as to hide from me.”

and you hummed, and sang quietly under your breath. and when his chest finally stopped rising and falling and the strong heart ceased, you knew you were to follow soon after.

[sentryofwords]

I would like to put forward my experience with psychology from my one (1) singular psychology class, because i respectfully do not think that this was perhaps the best way to explain this concept.

I do mean this with absolutely no offense to OP, but they stated that there was no stopping these characters- in other words, there was no way to change their behavior. This not only goes against one of the four main purposes of psychology( to describe behavior, predict behavior, control behavior, and change behavior), but it also limits peoples freedom and creativity.

As an author of fanfiction, I believe that these sorts of limits are terrible to have. Once again, i do want to state, i am not putting OP through the wringer, i am just trying to explain in my own words what i think would be a better message for people to hear regarding characters who are not mentally well, as this can be a sensitive topic.

First, let us define exactly what Psychosis is. Psychosis is a collection of symptoms involving abnormalities in at least one of the following: delusions, hallucinations, disorganized thoughts, disorganized behavior, and negative symptoms. I will go over each of these.

What are delusions? Delusions are the firm belief in something that is not true, unreasonably so, and has no factual evidence. It can be very hard to shake someone from a concept their mind has made up, even when using logic. This concept even applies to people who are not suffering from a delusion, as was tested with a blind spot. There would be two images, and one image was complete, but the other was blank in a spot that people could not see due to humans having a natural blind spot in that part of their eye, and when asked to choose which image was complete, most participants chose the incomplete image, the one that their brain had filled in the information for. Humans are more prone to trusting information that comes from their own minds than anything else.There are different types of delusions, including persecutory delusions:the belief that one is being targeted, harassed, or conspired against), grandiose delusions: the belief that one has extraordinary abilities, wealth, or fame, referential delusions: the belief that ordinary actions have special meaning intended specially for the individual, erotomanic delusions: the belief that someone, often a stranger or famous person, is in love with the individual, and somatic delusions: the belief that something is wrong with a persons body, such as having an illness or physical deformity.

There are also different types of hallucinations. These include Auditory(sound based) hallucinations, Tactile(touch based) hallucinations, Olfactory( scent based) hallucinations (i have experience these twice in my life, once i smelled brownies, and another more recent time, cookies, though it is more common to experience unpleasant smells), Gustatory (taste based) hallucinations, and, of course, Visual (sight based) hallucinations.

disorganized thoughts can include disorganized speech that is hard to follow and jumps from topic to topic with little connection (loose association between ideas), incoherence: when communication fails within or between sentences, word approximations is when words are used incorrectly, neologisms is when new words are used, racing thoughts are when thoughts go through the head very fast, which is not to be confused with flight of ideas, which is when thoughts move quickly from idea to idea.

Disorganized behavior can include: unpredictable or inappropriate actions (in the sense that it is not fitting for this scenario, not that it is s*xual misconduct) ex: a person wears multiple layers of coats, scarves and several hats on a very hot day, or makes sudden, loud noises without warning. Disorganized behavior can also include difficulty with daily tasks, such as managing regular personal hygiene. They may be able to start a task, but not complete it.

Another example of disorganized behavior is bizarre postures or movements. Examples of this is pacing or rocking back and forth, or even suddenly becoming rigid. (You may want to research neurotransmitter imbalances if you intend to have a character who will occasionally go rigid. I have a poor memory of my neurotransmitters, but i believe it was serotonin that could do that? (Also, associated with schizophrenia, and when a person goes stiff from this, it is called a state of catatonia. An interesting character concept to be sure.))

Also, childlike and silly behavior, and inappropriate emotional responses (such as laughing in response to bad news, or failing to show joy at good news) are two other types of disorganized behavior.

That brings us to negative symptoms. These typically include diminished emotional expression, and avolition (lack of motivation). You will also see Alogia- the decreased ability to produce speech output, asociality- the lack of or reduced desire to have social contact, Anhedonia (there's a cool song called anhedonia)- lack of or reduced ability to experience pleasure, amd affective flattening- reduced ability to express emotions through facial expressions, eye contact, and speech intonation.

Side note: as someone on the scale for autism, i experience some of these symptomes myself. I scared myself sh*tless when i did my final project, which was schizophrenia based, and saw that a lot of the symptoms matched up. If you read over this, and think to yourself "Hey, I've experienced X, and even Y too" that does not mean for sure that you have something. If you have concerns, please go see a doctor, but i will state that neurodivergent people will experience symptoms from this list. For more information, google whatever you have +"symptoms DSM 5" and "DSM 5 criteria"

That was just for anyone who had a heart attack reading the above list of symptoms. Now onto how you can research more on your own to write an accurate character. A few things to note is that not all disorders are caused the same way. You will want to looke up "The seven main psychological perspectives" as well as just generally "the psychological perspectives". Pick one out for the character you are writing, and stick with it to write a good background for your character, as well as influence how they behave, and when they seem better and worse. If their condition is caused by something biological, then maybe write about how therapy isn't helping them as much as it could be, about how conversations aren't having a lasting impact on them. Also, look up the DSM 5. You might also be able to find it at your local library, or maybe even your college if you attend one. If you do go to college, there should also be some psychology books available for you to look at.

remember, the DSM 5is the most important part. Also, ask reddit, and doctors and psycologists on reddit.

Also also, somebody posted this schizophrenia simulator my teacher made us watch on youtube. You know, so that we could all share the fun. Headphones, people.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=M3a1txtSDn0

The Act of Writing Psychotic Characters 

Part 1: Attention vs Intention

It's been a while since I received this request, and I ensured I took my time with the thoughts, evaluation, and analysis. This topic will be covered in three parts, so here's the first.

Before we proceed, please note that I am not a psychiatrist, psychologist, or any professional in that field. This is just an insight into how this kind of concept can fit into your novels.

Okay, let's begin.

The Attention vs Intention part of this topic will discuss two ways of portraying these type of characters in scenes. 

First, you need to understand that psychotic characters aren't psychotic based solely on their speeches or actions. If that's all you have in mind before approaching a story, you might leave a huge gap in the execution.

Rather, it's how they feel—the desire to satisfy their current emotions.

They have drives and motives, but most especially beliefs which, in most cases, are hardly understandable by other people. It's wrong and unacceptable by society, but to them, they wouldn't do it any differently.

That's why most psychotic characters have no remorse. You simply can't apologize or feel sorry if you don't 'believe' that you're in the wrong.

➜ Attention Psychosis

Psychotic characters whose main purpose in a story is limited to presence (i.e., showing up in scenes and visibly serving the role of a psychotic character) are attention psychotics. You don't flesh out their backstory or why they are who they are.

Their drives and motives aren't talked about enough to the point of justification. Readers hardly care about them, but the action they bring to the scene creates a rich narrative with the purpose of psychosis.

In summary, their role is minor. We see such cases in movies like The Babysitter.

Let's agree that none of the cult characters in that movie are exactly sane, as their main aim is to end their victims’ lives in the sickest ways possible. However, there's a certain character, Max, who simply enjoys the idea of "killing and seeing people bleed."

That has exceeded the central idea of being a cultist who gets involved in blood sacrifice to achieve their 'dream life' like the rest of the characters. It's now something more and different.

Something that has to do with homicidal ideation.

Max worked in a diner where he dealt with people that annoyed him so greatly that he wanted to kill them. So he got the opportunity to join a cult and do just that.

It was plain clear this guy had something else going on for him, but throughout the movie, his character had no special attention or even a peek into his thoughts. Although, it still worried the audience. Job done.

➜ Intention Psychosis

When a story is centered around a character's mental state, their motives, drives, beliefs, actions, and the story actually unfolds by going deeper into this concept, you have intention psychosis.

If not entirely, at least mostly, it defines the entire plot surrounding that character. People get to understand why they are who they are, their mode of action, what drives them, and even a peek into how they perceive the world around them.

Such scenarios are seen in movies like The Joker and Pyramid game (Korea). The audience gets a glimpse into their overall life and understands at least to an extent why they are the way they are.

Their beliefs get twisted for certain reasons, and there was just no stopping them. Here the characters were more than a presence; they were a central core.

In the movie Joker, we watched Arthur’s impoverished life unfold, with every event and incident worsening his condition further.

Baek Ha-rin in Pyramid Game literally created an entire game system to watch a student, who happened to be her old friend, suffer both physically and mentally. She went to great lengths to carry out this nefarious act under the guise of the game. Although this movie encompassed more than just this storyline, it was hard to ignore the unhealthy drive and actions of the young lady with an innocent face.

Before incorporating a psychotic character in your novel, determine their form of portrayal and appearance in the overall story. Are they going to serve as an attention psychotic or an intention psychotic?

Inspired by @sothera

Stay tuned for the next part!

۝ Before you go! ۝

My Characters and I is an extensive one-on-one coaching session designed to create characters that leap off the pages and become best friends with your readers.

What's a great story without remarkable characters? Spots are filling up fast, so grab yours now and get ahead of millions of writers out there.

👇👇👇

[thewertsearch]

@elkian asked: PS - I think Sally can watch [S] Duodecim Rex Angelus at this point(?), but obvs I don't want to interrupt if she's on a roll lol @marinerofthestars asked: Since you’ve now finished Act 5, I think you can now watch (and react to when you have some time?) Rex Duodecim Angelus without risk of spoilers. It’s a 7-minute long fanmade Flash depicting the trolls’ battle against the Black King at the end of their session, hope you enjoy: https://youtu.be/-19Up0dLzNw @captorations asked: you've probably got a bunch of messages about this but. there's a fanfic out there that is the full text of strider-ified detective pony, and it is, unironically, one of the greatest fanworks ever created. i do not grant that title lightly, and i cannot recommend it enough. also! maybe i've forgotten and you did cover it, but. at this point i believe you're very much able to watch rex duodecim angelus, the fanmade flash of the trolls fighting their black king, without spoilers of any kind. some parts of act 6 can be a bit slow, so. if you need a break for action, it's there @joyfulldreams asked: By the way, since you've finished Act 5, you can absolutely watch Rex Duodecim Angelus now! (If you haven't already.) @transguyhawkeye asked: Not sure if anyones mentioned it yet but now that you've read the ancestor section you should be able to watch [s] Rex Duodecim Angelus spoiler-free! Anonymous asked: It looks like maybe no one's pointed out that you can now watch Rex Duodecim Angelus (which you were recommended in 2022 and 2023 but it was too early to watch then). You should definitely do that. Hussie declared it canonical, and Cat even suggested liveblogging it. Anonymous asked: OKAY YAY. There's a fan animation that I hear Hussie canonized called [S] Rex Duodecim Angelus and most people recommend that the earliest possible spot in a reading to view it is right after the completion of act 5. You don't have to liveblog it but I would LOVE it if you did. Anonymous asked: Augh I forgot to add that Rex Duodecim Angelus is of the troll session's fight against the black king. That would be worth mentioning. Especially so that you could dig up some of the references to the battle made in the comic ;>_> @morganwick asked: [...] this is a reminder that you used to go through the newsposts/blog posts/Formspring answers preserved in the Homestuck Collection, but you haven't done that in a while (cancelling it at the end of Act 4 in your haste to get to Act 5); were you thinking of catching up at the end of Act 5? I think you're close to the point where the Formspring stopped already. @likelyvampirical asked: [S] Rex Duodecim Angelus is now spoiler-free. On a related note, we've not had an episode of Tunes with Sally since November 2022. Maybe we could do some album reviews before coming back with Act 6?

Yup, it's finally time. After hearing about this legendary video for over a year and a half, today I'm going to check out one of Homestuck's most iconic fanworks, [S] Rex Duodecim Angelus!

I've heard from several people now that Hussie declared it canon, but no one's been able to track down a source for that just yet. Either way, it's clearly intended to be canon-compliant, so I'm interested in seeing how they handle the more ambiguous aspects of this fight, such as Gamzee's Rage attack.

On another note, I've deliberately placed Tunes with Sally on hiatus until later in the comic - mostly because the albums often contain songs from flashes we haven't seen yet, and I want to experience Homestuck's OST from within the comic first.

Finally, I promise I'll get to the Formspring eventually, as well as Hussie's news and blog posts. They're just not a giant priority, at the moment - but if anyone's got any specific Hussie quotes they'd like me to check out, feel free to send 'em in.

Anyways, I'll be watching Rex Duodecim Angelus after I've had dinner. Talk to y'all then!

[jihoonjuseyo]

Perverted jihoon hacking readers computer so he can see what she is doing in her room just to see her jerking off to him.... Then might end it with him fucking her in her bedsheets the very same night

~💩

a/n: this isn’t something i usually write ;u; i really tried to make him a pervert but i have a hard time writing real people with these kinds of character traits. i hope you understand ♡

cw: smut, toys, spying, dubcon if you squint, computer hacking to watch reader masturbate, oh yeah masturbation, lmk if i missed anything

requests open!

when you told jihoon that you’ve been told that you make noises when you sleep, he half-believed it to start. he wasn’t a stranger to having his ear pressed to the wall that separates your bedrooms. he recognized quickly that those weren’t just measly noises from sleep, no soft hums from your slumber - no, those were *moans* he was hearing.

it woke an obsession within him, standing next to the wall for minutes after you’ve gone to bed, hoping and praying that he’d hear the soft buzz he’d learn to listen for, his hand already moving down to his waistband.

it woke an obsession within him, standing next to the wall for minutes after he knows you’ve gone to bed, hoping and praying that he’d hear the soft buzz he’d learn to listen for, his hand already moving down to his waistband. he’d seen the vibrator once. on accident, as he was so innocently helping you organize your drawers one day while you were gone. he certainly didn’t smear his own cum on it just to see it before washing it off, oh no.

jihoon’s obsession continued to grow as he patiently waited for your soft moans in the night, his mind filling with increasingly more debaucherous thoughts of you. one night, as he stood with his ear pressed against the wall, he heard the familiar buzz he was waiting for, the soft gasp of your initial tease to your core.

a thrill ran through his body as he pressed even closer to the wall, his excitement growing as he listened to the soft moans coming from the other side.

he pictured you in your room, those little shorts you wore (the ones he saw riding up your ass countless times throughout the afternoon), pulled to the side with your fingers teasing your entrance. he loved the idea of that purple toy shoved inside of you, your walls encasing it so tightly. but your fingers, god he pictured them everywhere on his body-

he closed his eyes as he stroked his cock, a shaky breath coming out as jihoon pictured himself in front of the bed, eyes level with your cunt as you teased yourself.

that’s when his brain went a different direction, and he physically felt his length harden at the idea. your computer, so perfectly situated in the front of your bed. jihoon knew that computer had the best spot in the world, it made him envious.

jihoon's mind continued to spin as he listened to your soft moans through the wall. as the room on the other side of the wall fell silent, he quietly stepped away from the wall, his mind still filled with thoughts of you. it was like a magnet pulling him back to the wall, but he resisted.

he walked over to his own desk, his hands shaky as he turned on his computer. he knew that he had to see the view that your computer was enjoying. it was so unfair, the way he knows your legs are spread out for the computer to see.

sitting down at his desk, jihoon quickly launched the hacking program he had been developing for the past few months. with a few commands, he was in your system, giving him access to your webcam and the contents on it.

he navigated to your webcam and clicked to open the live feed, his heart racing in anticipation. he'd been fantasizing about this moment for weeks, hoping he would be able to get a glimpse of your most intimate moments before you fall asleep.

as the camera launched, jihoon’s breath hitched as your bedroom came into view. there you were, laid out on your bed, wearing those same shorts that had been driving him crazy all day.

only, those shorts were pulled to your ankles,

“jihoon-“ your voice hitched, making jihoon’s hand, that had been pumping his cock so slickly, stuttered, his hips jerking slightly. he felt his face flush, his instincts kicking in almost immediately. he had to grip the chair as he considered, barging in on a private moment or making her fantasies a reality?

jihoon's mind raced as he watched you on the other end of the camera, his body reacting to every little sound you made. he knew that spying on you was wrong, but he couldn't help himself now. he wanted you so badly that he could taste it.

his mind was swirling with all the ways he wanted to taste you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes focused on the way you were writhing on the bed. He couldn't believe the situation he found himself in, watching you so intimately without you even knowing.

“fuck it,” he hissed, pushing himself out of the chair and standing up, pushing his cock back into his pants for the moment.

jihoon's heart was pounding in his chest as he quickly got up and left his bedroom, his mind racing with thoughts of what he was about to do. he approached your door, his hand shaking slightly as he reached out to turn the knob.

jihoon hesitated for a moment before turning the doorknob and slowly opening the door, his breath caught in his throat as he stepped inside. the room was dimly lit by the light from the desk, the computer screen casting an eerie glow on your body as you lay in bed.

his eyes drank in the sight of you, laid out before him like a gift. he closed the door behind him, the soft click of the latch sounding like a gunshot in his ears.

unfortunately for him, you’d heard it too. you shot up with a gasp, hands coming out while simultaneously trying to cover your lower half with your legs. “d-don’t you know h-h-ho-aaa..!” jihoon felt himself get chocked up, knowing that you were attempting to hide the fact that a vibrator was lodged tightly in your pussy.

jihoon's eyes widened as he took in the sight of you, his gaze going straight to where your hands were trying to hide the vibrator. His heart raced in his chest as he tried to form a coherent thought.

he took a step forward, his mind going back to the sight on the camera. he hadn't been able to see that in the dimly lit room, nor had he been prepared for the way it would feel to see it in person.

“I-I…” he tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat as his body responded to the view in front of him. he took another step forward, bringing him within a few feet of the bed.

jihoon's eyes roamed over your body, taking in every part of you. the sight of your chest heaving with each labored breath was almost too much for him, the urge to touch you growing stronger with each moment.

“I don’t-“ he started, his voice low and rough. he took another step forward, bringing him right next to the bed. he knelt down on the edge, his hands shaking slightly as he reached out to touch you. you jerked back slightly, your breath heavy as you watched jihoon intensely, confused but curious.

his eyes, ever so dark and focused, stared at the exposed part of your leg before trailing his hand up your thigh, pushing the blanket up as well as you almost fought him. “hey-“ you began, but he shushed you, not even having the respect to look at you before he tossed the blanket over your hip, wasting no time in prying your legs open and half-leaping onto the bed to ensure a place between your legs. “fuck- fuck-“ he didn’t know where to look first, your thighs were spread out and held by his strong arms, encasing your thighs between his forearms and biceps.

yet, his mesmerized eyes didn’t even flinch as you barely thrashed, more confused on the situation. “jihoon, wha— ah—.?!” you hissed when you felt the vibrator push further into your core, glancing down at him in shock. his lips were pressed to the flat end, applying pressure to the toy as it penetrated and rotated inside of you.

you pulled yourself to your knees, expression one of bliss and shock. his eyes shifted from your clit, up towards your face. “are you going to behave?” he asked.

you found no fight within you, feeling your legs give up as well. jihoon felt them relax as he set them on his shoulders. his hand moving to grasp the toy. his mouth found freedom, yet immediately hitched up to attack your clit, his tongue flattening it with his saliva aiding your juices in soaking you. with gentle movements, you felt the pull and stretch of the toy in a way you never have before, stomach feeling twitchy as a new type of pleasure settled within you.

“does that feel good?” jihoon asked, clicking the button on the vibrator to speed it up and watch you curl just slightly from the suddenness.

“so good,” you whimpered, both hands coming down to thread through his hair. “so fucking— oh, god,” you purred, hips lifting just slightly to give a slow grind to his lips when he delivered a particularly sweet suckle to your numb.

“i have a lot to make up for,” jihoon said mostly to himself, his free hand coming to smear the spit all over your clit in a messy fashion.

you didn’t question the statement, too focused on the way your eyes practically rolled back. whatever he meant, you prayed it meant that you wouldn’t be leaving the bed any time soon.

[caitified]

I'm so in love with your writing 😭 could you please do KM x reader on honeymoon with kate being so clingy and touchy?

HONEYMOON

KATE MARTIN X READER

comments: thank you, love you!

warnings: a little suggestive

you met kate martin at iowa. you were both fresh into college, navigating the newness of it all—the campus, the basketball team, the expectations. you weren’t even on the same path at first. she was the confident, easy-going upperclassman with this cool, natural charisma that made her impossible to ignore, and you were the quiet, focused rookie, determined to prove yourself.

she was impossible to miss, though. the way her long blonde hair was always pulled into that perfect messy ponytail, like she didn’t even have to try. her blue eyes that always seemed to catch you staring across the court, sparkling like she knew something you didn’t. you were drawn to her—how could you not be? she carried herself with this effortless confidence, but it wasn’t cocky. she made everyone feel like they mattered, especially you.

things started slow. late-night talks in her car after practice. her teasing you during drills, flashing you that lopsided grin that made your heart race. subtle touches on the court—her hand brushing yours, her arm slung casually around your shoulders in the locker room, like it was the most natural thing in the world. by the time your second season rolled around, you were hers, and she was yours.

fast forward a few years, and now she’s your wife. your wife. it still feels surreal, the way those words roll off your tongue.

the wedding was small, intimate, just the way you wanted it. her vows had you in tears, and you could barely get through your own because her big hands were holding yours so tightly, grounding you and making you feel safe in a way only she could. and now you’re here, on your honeymoon, tucked away in a villa overlooking the ocean in greece, and kate hasn’t let go of you since the plane landed.

she’s always been touchy, always had to have her hands on you in some way—an arm around your shoulder, a hand on your thigh, her fingers brushing the back of your neck—but now it’s like she can’t bear to have even a single inch of space between you.

you’re lying on the lounger by the pool, a book resting in your lap, the sun casting golden light across your skin. kate’s sprawled across you, her head tucked into the crook of your neck, her long legs tangled with yours. her fingers trace lazy patterns over your stomach, occasionally dipping under the edge of your swimsuit just to feel your skin. her hands are big and warm, and they make you feel so small in the best way.

“kate,” you murmur, though your voice is barely more than a whisper. “you’re heavy.”

“you love it,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against your neck, her breath warm against your skin.

she’s right. you do.

“what happened to giving me space?” you tease, though your free hand slides up to tangle in her hair, nails gently scratching her scalp.

“space?” she pulls back just enough to look at you, her blue eyes soft and full of mischief. “baby, we just got married. you’re stuck with me forever. i don’t think ‘space’ is in the contract.”

her grin is infectious, and you find yourself laughing, the kind of laugh that feels deep and warm, like the sun on your skin. she presses a quick kiss to your lips, and then another, because one is never enough for her.

“besides,” she adds, settling back into her spot against you, “you’re way too pretty to leave alone. i have to protect you.”

“protect me from what?”

“anyone who looks at you for too long,” she says, her voice light but tinged with a possessiveness that makes your stomach flip.

you roll your eyes, but your heart betrays you, swelling at how openly she loves you. it’s always been like this with kate—no games, no second-guessing. just her, all in, unapologetic in the way she holds you close and makes you feel wanted.

later, when the sun dips below the horizon and the villa is bathed in soft candlelight, you’re curled up on the couch with her, a glass of wine in one hand and her other hand—big and warm—wrapped around yours. she’s pressed so close to you it’s like she’s trying to fuse herself to your side, and you don’t mind one bit.

“do you think people get tired of each other this fast?” you ask, half-joking.

she leans in, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “if they do, we’re not people.”

it’s such a kate thing to say, and you can’t help but turn your head to kiss her, slow and deliberate, letting her know without words that you feel the same way.

when you pull back, her blue eyes are soft, her usual playfulness replaced with something deeper. “i love you,” she whispers, her voice almost reverent.

“i love you too,” you reply, and it feels like the easiest thing you’ve ever said.

she doesn’t say anything else after that, just pulls you closer, her touch warm and steady, her presence grounding. and in that moment, with her wrapped around you and the sound of the waves in the background, you think there’s no place in the world you’d rather be.

thanks for reading! requests open.

[justallihere]

i've been talking about this for two months now, but we're past onyx storm and i'm finally far enough into this fic that i'm almost ready to start posting, which means. . .

dead on arrival chapter 1 will be coming your way on feb 3rd!

this is a bones-inspired modern au, and i'm in love with every moment of it so far. i can't wait to start sharing it with you, but in the meantime, here's the summary - and below the cut, a longer look into the first bit of chapter 1

Violet Sorrengail is a forensic anthropologist good with only one thing: dead people. Their bones speak a language only she can hear, but the living aren't quite so easy to understand - particularly one FBI Agent Xaden Riorson, who does everything possible to get under her skin. When an unexpected murder victim washes up in DC, the ensuing investigation brings them closer together despite her every effort to stay away, and she's forced to decide if the careful distance she keeps around her heart is really worth it.

There was a dead body.

That was what the text message said anyway, the one that interrupted Violet Sorrengail’s music with a cheerful little ding and made her flinch. It popped up on the screen of her car—from FBI Agent Xaden Riorson.

7:03 am There’s a dead body. I’ll pick you up in 10. 

When she read it, she rolled her eyes. Of course there was a fucking dead body. That was the only reason he ever texted, called, emailed, or otherwise contacted her. There was a steady stream of texts from him dating back six months, from their first case together, all variations of: Got a body. On my way to pick you up. Any updates on the case? Why aren’t you in the lab? I have new evidence for you. Never so much as a hello or a how are you. If his neck was more easily reachable, she would have strangled him by now, but as it was, he stood about fifteen inches taller than her, and Violet hated both high heels and step stools, so he got to keep breathing. For now. 

A bark came from the passenger seat. She spared a glance at Tairn and found the dog was already glaring at the car screen, as if he knew exactly who had texted. He held a special sort of contempt for Xaden Riorson that Violet didn't think he'd ever shown anyone she knew, and he'd been her service dog for almost three years.

She was stuck at a red light, so she took a fortifying drink of her coffee and then plucked her cell phone out of the second empty cup holder to respond. 

7:04 am  it’s 7 in the morning on a monday y tf do u think i’m in the lab already. i’m 20 min away 

Riorson hated shorthand text. Violet normally didn’t do it, but once, in a hurry, she’d typed bc instead of because, and it was the first thing he’d commented on the next time he saw her. She’d made it a point ever since to shorten as many words as possible. 

7:04 am  Then I’ll pick you up in 20. Washed up from the Potomac at a park in Alexandria a couple hours ago.

Sounded lovely—and unstable for her, given it had rained the entire weekend before and she could break or dislocate just about anything with a single wrong look.

It took her twenty-two minutes instead of the promised twenty to get to the lab, and she felt confident Riorson was losing his mind. He had a thing for punctuality that bordered on compulsive. Sure enough, he was already there, his government-issued SUV parked next to her usual spot. He stood outside it, leaning against the closed driver’s door, wearing a sleek black suit and aviators, not a strand of dark hair out of place. He looked the perfect picture of professionalism, were it not for the tattoo on his left arm that wound from wrist to jawline. The early morning sun gilded his brown skin, and he looked almost ethereal. It was both infuriating and unfair how beautiful he was, but he made up for it by being a complete and utter dick most of the time. 

Riorson was too composed to show any outward signs of impatience, but Violet was sure he was counting the seconds it took her to gather her coffee, her phone, and her bag and climb out of her own car to join him. Instead of waiting for her to round the car and open the passenger door, Tairn followed her out of the driver's side, his leash trailing. She didn't bother to pick it up; he stuck close to her side regardless, his nose nearly against her thigh.

“I need to go inside and get waders,” she informed Riorson instead of offering any polite greeting. She knew he certainly wasn’t going to offer her one. She skirted around the back of his car to the passenger side. She was wearing jeans and a white sweater and sneakers—not exactly appropriate attire for investigating a dead body on a riverbank. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Your waders and boots are in the trunk, and Sloane has the rest of all your fancy tools and equipment. She rode ahead to the scene with Rhiannon.” 

Well, that at least answered the question of which intern was on the schedule today. And hopefully Rhiannon was far enough ahead of them that she’d be done with her preliminary analysis by the time Violet got there. If this was the FBI’s problem, and Riorson wanted Violet there, then the remains were presumably in bad shape. 

Violet opened the back door for Tairn and stood back as he jumped inside, settling on the nice leather seats without a care for his claws. There were scratches in the material already, but Violet was sure most of them came from Xaden's own dog, Sgaeyl. She wasn't a service dog like Tairn, but Riorson had brought her around a few times, usually when a case called them in on a weekend or late at night. Tairn used his teeth to tug his leash closer when it dangled, and then sat back on his haunches, looking at her expectantly. She shut the door.

Violet climbed into the passenger seat, dropping her bag at her feet and her coffee in one of the cup holders, then buckling her seat belt as Riorson climbed in next to her, starting the car without a word. 

He was seemingly allergic to music, so they almost always rode in silence. Violet was never quite sure why he felt the need to drive her to crime scenes. She could just as easily get herself there, or hitch a ride in the forensics van with Rhiannon or Ridoc. But since the very first case, he’d insisted, and he was about as much fun to argue with as a brick wall, and some things simply weren’t worth the energy to complain about. 

Every so often, Tairn would make a little chuffing noise in the back seat, but he didn't actually lean forward and alert, so she ignored him. He was always restless and grumbling around Xaden. Despite his relative youth, he acted remarkably like an old man.

"So why are we going to Alexandria?" Violet asked skeptically as Riorson weaved expertly through the early morning DC traffic, heading the opposite way Violet had just come from. She had a charming, spacious house in Georgetown she'd received as a gift from her father, with a secluded backyard and even a small heated pool. As one of the most renowned forensic anthropologists in the world, she made good money, enough to cover the utilities and the property taxes and insurance with ease, but it was still far too rich of a neighborhood for her; she never could've afforded it outright. There had been questions for a while about where the money came from for her father to afford to buy her such a place, if it had been earned through legal means, but after six months of investigating when she first got the deed, everyone had stopped looking into it, and she'd been able to finally move in with no problems.

She'd been there for three years now with no additional issues. She suspected that was her mother's doing, but Lilith Sorrengail had never admitted it outright.

"Because that's where the dead body is?" Riorson offered dryly without taking his eyes from the road.

Violet huffed, and Tairn echoed the noise behind her. "It's in Virginia," she said, like it should've been obvious, because it should have. "What makes this the FBI's problem? Shouldn't local police get first dibs?"

"They don't want it," he answered. "The remains are in bad enough shape that we need you, Sorrengail. Do you really think Alexandria PD has the resources to investigate this?"

"Do you really think I know anything about the resources Alexandria PD has?" she countered. She didn't, and she didn't want to. That fell into the pile of things that were very firmly not her problem. Her brain had a lot of room, but local police jurisdiction wasn't really something she bothered to make space for. Riorson gave her bodies, and she told him how they died. That was her job.

He did look at her then, a brief, cutting glance from the corner of his eye. "I thought you knew everything."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously not, Riorson."

A little smirk curled up one corner of his mouth, but he didn't say anything else.

Violet spent the rest of the car ride braiding her hair. She kept it long, and she liked to wear it loose, but her work didn't often lend to it. When she was younger, her older sister, Mira, had braided it into a crown for her when she'd gone through a phase of reading only princess books, and had taught her to do it herself as a teenager. It had quickly become her signature style in college and while she completed her PhD; it was the easiest way to ensure it was all out of the way while she was in the lab or on the university's body farm, studying decomposing remains. Beyond its practicality, she just thought it was pretty, especially because the ends of her hair were leached of all pigment, so the silver strands looked interesting all weaved together.

It was a challenge in the car—she had to lean forward to flip her hair over and start the plait at the back of her head, which didn't do great things for her heart rate—but it wasn't the first time she'd done this and it wouldn't be the last. She had hair ties and pins in her bag that she held between her teeth until she needed them.

By the time she was done, they'd reached the crime scene. The park was right on the Potomac River, and already blocked off with yellow tape. Riorson eased the SUV around a group of civilians standing and tittering as they watched the FBI forensics team as they gathered evidence. Violet couldn't find her own people among the sea of navy jackets, so they must have been closer to the river.

She hopped out and paused when her head spun, bracing a hand on the open door. Tairn barked, scratching at the door she hadn't yet opened for him.

"You good, Violence?" Riorson paused, leaning back down to look at her through his own open door. His sunglasses slid down his nose, revealing dark eyes and long, thick lashes.

She lifted her head enough to glare at him. "Don't call me Violence."