#was having this exact thought like sure have sometimes seen things where in fact Not Having A Clue has not been simply helpful

[unproduciblesmackdown]

costume design, set mockup, and rehearsal photos from this guide to the show that's like really thorough in providing Context like, mini articles about the creators of the original movie, musical, and movie musical, about other versions of productions, the history, quotes of other commentary, interview quotes, context of other / preexisting genres like b movies, faustian stories, "what if a plant was weird" stories, glossary of terms (such as references that may generally be less obscure if you were in the '60s, e.g.), suggested further reading....haven't read it top to bottom but i think it's fantastic, link to the pdf as post source

[miirohs]

sugarcoated

pairing: Mob Boss!Baby Daddy!Lando Norris x Fem!Reader wc: 2.7k cw: violence (implied but not against the reader), emotional manipulation, reader is highkey tweaking, Norris is a touchy ass, slight yandere undertones, this aint healthy an: i keep forgetting my irls have my blog lowkey ive been scared of posting bc of my parents. also hey ladies whats up im back out of my flop era! miss me miss me now you gotta kiss me!

He was always lingering somewhere, no matter where you went.

It was like no matter where you ran, he would always find you. Quite frankly, you were sure that was half the appeal to him, he was a powerful man and he spared no expense in letting you know. 

Sometimes, it was the little flowers he left on your doorstep in pristine condition, small notes in semi legible handwriting tied to the stems. Other times, it was the faint smell of his perfume that lingered as he’d find himself in front of your door at odd hours of night, begging you to let him in, as if he’d been dying at the steps of your door.

And like a fool, you finally cracked, you did let him in. You were charmed, though there was no doubt it made you uneasy, he’d pacified you with his dazzling promises to take care of you, so what could’ve been the harm?

You didn’t see him again after that night. In fact, you hadn’t seen him for weeks afterwards, then the games started as soon as you moved.

You’d run, he’d show up, you’d run again. 

It was a cycle. There was no leaving the city anymore either, his forces scattered across every crook and nanny of the city. You’d sealed your own fate with just one hospital visit, deliverance of the exact news you’d prayed to not get as you sat with a test in your hands, two pink lines string back at you. 

You had no idea how you even made it home that night.

It was in your best interest not to move anymore, but you weren’t even sure how to move forward. Your wallet wasn’t entirely drained, but you were. Any chance of moving away was immediately stomped out, leaving you with no choice but to firm up against him and his sugar coated words.

It wasn’t long before he found out, and when he did, he made sure you knew. You couldn’t tell for your life how he felt though.

At first, it was minor things, baby items you didn’t recall ordering appearing at your door. You chalked it up to clerical error, but something nagged at you as you inspected them. Then, more expensive items started to appear, everything a new mother could dream of, but it made you uneasy.

Sometimes he’d come along with one of these gifts, standing outside the door as you peered at him through the eyehole. You never answered, with the hope that he'd leave you alone, hoping to dissuade him from anything further.

Then the biggest shock came along, sitting across from you on the counter, as if it’d been there the whole time. You had no time to question, let alone think about it upon seeing the small note attached to the box. 

I hope you’ll love the gift exactly how I did when I saw it, xoxo.

You knew exactly what a diamond ring implied. Yet, you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around why he would’ve sent it. The last thing he would’ve done was tie himself to you after trying so long to avoid you.

It’d been four days since the ring had appeared there, and you were simply hoping it was a fluke, no sign of him to back the ever present thought of the intrusion. 

You sat at the dining table, poking around your half-assed salad as you stared at the box. You could’ve sold it off, but there was no doubt someone would’ve found out and reported it back to him, leaving you to bear the brunt of his anger at your outright refusal. He’d never hurt you, but you saw everything in his actions.

The thought was more than enough to throw you off your meal, pushing away the plate with a pained sigh. Eating wasn’t the only thing that’d become harder in recent months, as working had left you with barely any time for yourself.

You were almost ready to doze off right there and then, had it not been for the series of sharp raps on the door, earning a grumble from you as you dragged yourself to the door with a mind full of insults to hurl at the person.

It hadn’t occurred to you to check who it was as you sleepily fiddled knob, only saved by the grace of the chain lock you’d forgotten to unlock.

“Hey there.”

Your blood froze, hazel eyes staring down through the crack of the door. There he was again, the devil himself, at your doorsteps as if he’d been waiting for you for a long time.

“Lando?” it came out as more of a whisper than anything else, voice cracking from a lack of proper use.

“It’s nice to see you too sweetheart,” He laughed, tilting his head at you to meet your eyes through the wide crack. 

There was a look in his eyes, although you couldn’t entirely decide if it was predatory or not as you averted your eyes, looking down at the handle of the door.

“What’s going on in there? Are you working late again? Though the doctor said it wasn’t good for you to be up this late with the baby on the way.”

You didn’t respond, trying to shut the door as subtly as you good, hitting something between the doorframe. Jitters ran down your spine when the door wouldn’t move further, looking down to see what it was. 

He’d wedged his shoe in between, the bastard. You looked back up, swallowing as he narrowed his eyes, the smile slipping off his face for moments to reveal thinly masked displeasure before disappearing entirely.

He knew what you were trying to do. You didn’t know if the guilt building up in your chest, or the possibility of what he could’ve done, scared you more. He’d never explicitly laid a hand on you, but the amount of torture was already enough as he lingered in your space.

“Someone has to keep the lights on,” You muttered, letting him nudge the door open. You were already fighting a losing battle, there was no way to keep him away but to hold him at an arm's length. That was how he’d gotten in the first time. He couldn’t fool you twice though.

“That’s why I've been sending you stuff, have you not gotten it?” He frowned. For a moment, it almost felt as if he were trying to be genuinely involved. You knew better.

You hesitated, looking back and forth between the chain lock and his face, though not much contemplating would be able to change the choice that’d already been made for you.

“No. I… donated it to some of the others at work. Needed it more than I did.”

There it was again, the indignancy in his eyes. 

“I got it for you though, was it not to your liking then?” His voice was eerily calm, but you knew exactly what it meant. Your hand instantly went up to the chain, almost as if it was moving on its own. Fear gripped at you. You had no idea what he was going to do next.

“So, you’re determined to be a single mother then? Do you know the kind of trouble it would get you and the baby into…” He raised his voice, pausing to see if you’d reconsidered.

Clearly a slight tremble in your hand was enough to convince him you’d finally stood down, a smirk gracing his already vicious face as you opened the door. You had no plan to, but it was hopeless to try and stand up without attracting attention, the last thing you wanted was for everyone to know what a shameless bastard he was.

“Just come inside please. Don’t let anyone see you any more.” You whispered, letting him through the threshold before you shut the door behind you.

“You’ve been busy, haven’t you? Just look at the state of your... apartment.” He shook his head, pushing at stray articles laying all over the floor with his foot, as if they were positively filthy. There were still boxes from your last move sitting around the living room, the only real piece of furniture unpacked being your bed and the table you were sitting at. 

You couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed as you walked into the kitchen, you’d never been this untidy before. It wasn’t any easier as Lando tailed you, only pausing outside the door frame, as if something stopped him from coming through.

“You should move from here. I don’t like this apartment, it’s in a sketchy part of town.”

“Well, I don't recall asking for your opinion, did i?”

You didn’t pay any mind to his poking, filling a random mug up as you stood at the sink before you shot back, standing in the dark of the kitchen as he walked away, presumably to shuffle through your personals again. You were thankful for a moment of silence though, head pounding from all that had happened today.

You stood there lost in thought, and he’d returned sooner rather than later, tone disapproving as he spoke to you once again.

“I wonder how on earth I'm supposed to convince you if this can’t stop you from trying to make it on your own.”

Only, he wasn’t at the doorway anymore, standing a little further back, waving a stack of letters to your face. The color of the envelopes, you immediately knew what the contents were.

Heat seemed to bloom across your face, rushing over to grab the letters from him. It was of no use, he could easily keep them out of your reach, but it didn’t stop you.

“Sweetheart, what happened to you? Looks like you’ve managed to stir up more trouble than you can handle, am i right?” You could hear the mock empathy in his voice, distorted by the rush of blood to your ears.

“You. You happened to me.” You hissed back at him, finally grabbing the papers and slinking backwards. There wasn’t any time to leaf through them, but the big bright red stamps were more than enough to drive you to tears when you saw them. But you couldn’t cry here. Not in front of him.

He didn’t respond to your remark, simply giving you a look of pity, watching with careful eyes as you tossed the pages back onto the table, taking your seat back. The tension was getting higher, only breaking when you finally looked at him, opening your mouth.

“You can’t just come in here, into my life,” you managed, voice quivering despite the resolution you’d come to, “And act like you own the place. You have no idea what I’m dealing with.”

“Don’t I?” Lando pushed himself off the opposing wall, getting closer. “I’m the one who’s been watching you struggle, I'm the one who’s trying to help you love.”

“And is this what help is then?” The thought tasted bitter. “Sending gifts isn’t helping, it’s… wrong.” 

Then adding in a whisper, “You know i can’t afford this.”

He paused, the righteous look he had faltering for a second. “You’re reading it all wrong. I’m just trying to provide for you and the baby, but you want to be stubborn. You won’t take my help, nor will you take my money.”

“I don’t want your money, please.” You begged mercifully, looking at him eye to eye since the first time he’d stepped through the door.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile that sent chills through you. “You should be thanking me. Not many get the same kind of priority you’re getting right now. I’m only trying to make it easier.”

“I would never do it with your filthy money, how many have you run over just to make a paycheck?” You murmured, pausing at the look on his face.

“At least I can provide for myself. I won’t ever have to scrap the bottom of a tip jar only to fail to make rent.” He replied smoothly, eyes narrowing at your attempt to rebuke him.

The implication hung heavy in the air, and you clenched your fists, nails digging into your palm. “I… can’t.”

The silence seemed to stretch thinner, and you could feel the burn in your eyes as you looked down at your clasped hands. You couldn’t even really tell when the first tear slipped. It kept coming, and you couldn’t stop it. You knew he was right.

“Hey, hey, none of that.” He said slowly, getting down on one knee to meet your eyes, taking your hand in his. “I was out of line for that, wasn’t i?”

You shook your head, covering your mouth to stop the sobs from escaping. He seemed remorseful, running a thumb over your knuckles as he looked at you with a mix of pity and something foreign.  “I know I upset you, but I'm still offering you a chance here. I wanna set it right between us.”

You didn’t argue through the tears, and he seized the moment. “You can struggle all you want but I can provide everything you need. I can make the baby my heir, I can give you the life you deserve... all you have to do is say yes.”

“Say yes to what? Marrying you?” The words seem to slip out of your mouth mid sob, and a look of amusement crossed his face as you slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Exactly,” he replied, trademark grin spreading across his face. “Imagine it. A beautiful ceremony, a life together. You’d have someone by your side who can ensure nothing threatens you. You’d be safe and sound. The baby would be my successor, guaranteed.”

“I barely even know you. You don’t know me.” You whimpered as he played with your hand, too loving, too suffocating.

He moved closer to your lap this time, bringing his hand up to wipe the tears, soft and tender than you’d known him to be. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, and I know it feels like you don’t know me at all. This is a big decision.”

“It’s not just a decision, Lando. It’s my life.” You hiccuped, despairing clawing at your insides. “How do I know you won’t just leave when you’re bored of me?”

“Didn’t I promise to take care of you and the baby?” He gently cupped your face, tilting it up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. “Look at me. You’re not alone in this. I’m here now, and I want to help.”

There was a flicker of recognition at his words at the back of your brain, raising voices of caution as you looked at him through glassy eyes. “And what if I can’t love you back like you want me to?”

Lando’s eyes darkened slightly, and he took your hands, pulling you closer. “You don’t have to love me right now. Just trust me.” His grip tightened, slightly painful as he held onto you. “Just let me show you what it means to be cherished.”

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing your ear, the movement making your breath hitch. “Let me in, stop thinking so hard.”

You could’ve stopped breathing, time slowing as he pushed the ring box into your lap.

He was never going to give you a choice, but what he said was ultimately true.

“Just think,” Lando urged as you squeezed your eyes shut, allowing him to play with your ring finger. “Think about what you could have.”

You’d never really realized how much his scent stuck till you until now, wrapping around you and lingering softly. A part of you was tempted to lean into him, to let him guide you into this new reality.

Even if you hadn’t made up your mind, he likely already had.

“Fine.”

Wordlessly, the cold metal slipped on the finger he’d been tracing moments before, bringing up your hand to kiss it.

“See? You’re already one step closer.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You could only look at him, dried tear tracks sticky against the sudden cold draft of the air.

“It’s a promise,” he said, his thumb brushing over the ring as if it had already tied you together. “I won’t let you go just like that.”

You shuddered. 

There was no escaping him now. You were tied to him.

A sugar coated nightmare, it seemed.

[prentissluvr]

forget-me-nots — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : soulmate!au, fluff, very light angst ➖⟢ cw : light mentions of canon typical death, violence, and monsters, shirtless sam aaaaa, light descriptions of injuries and blood, reader believes in ghosts before knowing about the supernatural, drinking/alcohol mentions, silly criminal minds reference to my gf elle, kissing, poor editing ➖⟢ wc : 5.6K summary : in a world where flowers grow on your skin in the exact places your soulmate is injured, you’re constantly covered in forget-me-nots.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

heartache is one thing. heartache for someone you don’t know, someone whose face you’ve never seen or who you’ve never met, is another, stranger thing. it’s common for many to feel this heartache before they know their soulmate, but sometimes you feel as though you have to worry much more than most.

you try not to let thoughts of your mystery soulmate consume you, but you seem to have constant reminders of them litered on your skin in the form of tiny blue flowers. admittedly, you find it romantic that forget-me-nots are your soulmate flower, with their symbolism of true love, respect, and fidelity. the flowers themself feel like a good omen, a sweet promise of a steady love waiting for you. but, the frequency with which they appear on your skin feels far less lucky and always feeds you so much worry for this person you’ve yet to meet.

this morning, you wake with new blooms snaking along your left collarbone, peeking out from the seam of your sleep shirt. and when you change into new clothes, you find a few more growing on your bicep and the side of your ribs.

sighing, you stand at the mirror lightly brushing your fingers over the small flowers and wonder what sort of trouble your soulmate got into last night. as always, worry floods your chest, but you do your best to tamp it down considering the fact that you only bear a few new blooms. the more severe the injury, the more flowers appear on your skin. today, your soulmate must only be dealing with small surface cuts.

sometimes, you’re covered in so many forget-me-nots that you’re too worried to do much of anything at all. more than once, you’ve wondered how your soulmate could still be alive, and the continuous flowers on your skin serve as your only proof that they're still around. there were a few years where you barely had any blooms, just the usual flower on a fingertip to signify a papercut or the occasional few because of a small accident. but one night the flowers came in bunches and never stopped.

you imagine what you might say or do when you meet them. maybe you’ll want to check on whatever wounds they have, be sure it’s not too bad, or maybe you’ll scold them for making you worry so much. you’ll certainly ask what they do in their life that gets them so injured so often. maybe you’ll do it all.

but for now, you’ll have to move on and get ready for the day. the flowers always linger, though.

⟢⟢⟢

it’s been a rather strange week. the flowers from last thursday have completely faded, and you’ve gone a day or two without any new forget-me-nots appearing on your skin. the strange part has been at work. on monday night, one of your coworkers died in the building, but you still had to come in to work the next day. one of the rooms was taped off, but that was the only evidence of the misfortune. the same thing happened last night, thursday, and you’re ready to do everything you can to get at least the next several days off of work. you don't want to risk anything.

and now, it seems the goddamn fbi is interested in whatever has happened. you’re not a huge fan of the federal government, but you have to admit that the bureau has sent two of its most attractive agents. normally, you’d keep your head down, but you feel inexplicably drawn to one of them. he’s the taller of the two, which is impressive because the other is already tall, and he has pretty brown hair and dimples that you catch a glimpse of as he talks to one of your coworkers.

he looks away from her as he moves away, seemingly done with the interview. he catches your eye, and your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment. he’s a beautiful man; pretty and sweet looking at the same time as he’s traditionally handsome and slightly imposing. you’ve never loved a stranger’s eyes so much.

he approaches you and you can’t help but watch as he grows closer.

“hi,” he greets with a small smile, “i’m agent greenaway with the fbi. can i ask you a few questions about the deaths from this week?”

“i’m not sure i’ll be much help, but sure,” you nod, folding your arms over your stomach. agent greenaway doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but the topic at hand certainly does.

“that’s alright. sometimes the smallest things can really be helpful,” he reassures, keeping the kind look on his face. “have you noticed anything strange about either of the deceased or the building this past week or so?”

you shake your head. “not really. i mean i didn’t work closely with macy, and i never noticed anything off about lex.”

“and the building? any strange cold spots or flickering lights?”

you find the question sort of odd coming from an fbi agent, but you instintually feel like you should take it seriously. “um, yeah, actually. it was really cold by the bathrooms last night when i left. at first i thought the ac finally got fixed, but it was still sort of warm over here. in this area”

“okay. thank you for your help,” he smiles at you again and for a reason you can't quite place, you don’t want the unusual conversation to end. you have to hide a hint of delight from your expression when he hands you his card. “call me if you think of anything else.” you accept the card with a nod. he looks like he’s about to walk away, but he pauses. “and, uh– be careful. you should go home early tonight.”

“oh. okay, i will.” without knowing why, you trust him. you want to see him again.

⟢⟢⟢

saturday night is the second busiest night at the bar, but you’re glad it’s not as crowded fridays normally are. you walk straight to the bar to order your go-to drink. as you wait for the bartender to make it, you stare at yourself in the mirror behind the counter out of the corner of your eye. today, there’s two little forget-me-nots right on your left cheek. they look sort of cute there, and you guess you should be grateful that it’s such a small wound. there’s no other flowers on your body yet, which feels like a good run for your soulmate. that’s a little over a whole week in between different injuries, even small ones.

the bartender slides you your drink and you thank them. there’s a small red carnation on their thumb, and you wonder if they’ve met their own soulmate yet. you suppose that at the end of the day, you’re scared of what just about everyone else is. without trying, you worry about not meeting your soulmate until you're old and left without much time together. you want to meet them, and you think the sooner the better. the idea’s been particularly stuck in your mind since last night.

agent greenaway’s words echo in your head. “be careful. you should go home early tonight.” he seemed so sweet, so genuine and caring, and all you’ve been able to think about since then is meeting someone like him. finding someone kind with a little red mark on their cheek and a forget-me-not on their right pointer finger to match the papercut you got earlier this afternoon.

and simply, you’ve been feeling a little lonely these days. how nice would it be to have your literal soulmate by your side?

you sip slowly at your drink, and when the cup’s empty, you pay the tab. the bar isn’t quite serving as the distraction you hoped it would. as you head for the door, your gaze snags on a mop of brown hair that wouldn’t be considered familiar for the fact that you’ve only seen it once, but feels that way regardless. quickly, you scan the rest of the bar, and sure enough you catch sight of agent greenaway’s partner, across the way and very obviously flirting with a pretty brunette.

for a moment you pause, wondering if it would be weird or too out-of-the-blue to approach agent greenaway, but the pull you feel towards him overrides all else, taking your hand and guiding it to throw all caution to the wind.

he’s facing away from you, and with a friendly smile, you slide into the seat across from him.

“hi,” you greet over the noise of music and talking, “d’you mind if i sit here?” it takes him a moment to answer, like he’s lagging a little bit.

“uh– no, no i don’t mind,” he flashes a quick smile back at you, but his gaze and attention are clearly stuck somewhere on your face. for just a split-second, you’re confused by what he could be staring at, but it clicks not a moment later. you don’t know how you missed it: the red mark on his left cheek, so small that your eyes glossed over it when you sat down. eagerly, you drop your gaze to his hands, one casually wrapped around his beer bottle and the other resting on the table. and sure enough, so tiny and pretty against his big hand is a single forget-me-not on his right pointer finger, exactly where you have a bandaid wrapped around your own.

you suck in a sharp breath, eyes caught on the delicate flower and unable to drag themselves away to look back at his face. just like everyone else, you’ve thought about it a million times over, what it would feel like to meet your soulmate, what you would do, how you would act. in this moment, you feel frozen, but you feel right and you feel a million questions and urges rise up in your heart and mind. you desperately want to reach out to him, to touch his hand and the little flower and make sure that they’re both real.

but you absolutely cannot keep your gaze away from his face for long at all and when you meet his eyes, an irresistible smile stretches across your face. you look at him with nothing short of wonderment. he’s just stunning and you can’t believe that he’s supposed to be… well, yours. 

just staring at each other, you feel a little flustered and awkward, unsure what to say to him. then you realize he should probably know your name, and all you know is his last. so you stick your right hand out and tell him your name. he takes your hand with a smile and repeats it back, saying it carefully and savoring the sound and feel of it on his tongue.

when you touch him for the first time, your breath gets caught in your throat and it feels so right that you never want to let go.

“i’m sam,” he says, only letting his hand fall away from yours after a few moments. even then, your fingertips are merely inches apart now.

“sam greenaway,” you echo, easily remembering how he introduced himself yesterday. then you puzzle at his reaction and the way that the name doesn’t feel quite right as you look at him. he cringes slightly, like he’s done something to be guilty of. “or… not?” for a minute, things were starting to add up to you. the way you felt drawn to him yesterday and his job as an fbi agent finally explaining all of his many injuries. you figured he must be in fights often.

“i– i’m sorry, this is so– i mean if we’re really,” he takes a deep breath, trying to reset and figure out how to say things right. “if we’re really, you know, soulmates… well, there’s just a lot– a lot for me to explain. i’m not an fbi agent and my real name is sam winchester. but i swear, there’s a reason for me lying and i promise that i’ll explain it to you if you’re willing to hear it. which i understand if you don’t–”

“i do,” you say in earnest, finally cutting him off. it took you a second because, for a moment, you were too stuck on him saying the word soulmate aloud in reference to the two of you. it felt special and you were only half paying attention to the things he said after because of that. then all you were thinking about was how endearing he seems when he’s flustered and worried. “it’s okay,” you reassure him, “i want to hear it. i– i mean, sure, it’s sort of strange that you lied about, you know, all that, but… i’m not– i’m not gonna just meet my… my soulmate and not give you a chance.” he still looks a little tense, but his shoulders have dropped a bit in relief and there’s the hint of a grateful smile on his features.

“thank you,” he says, glad for your reassurance but still worried about how you might take the rest of the far weirder explanations that he has left to tell you. “can i maybe get you a drink?”

you smile at the offer, but shake your head a bit. “i was actually just heading out when i saw you. would you maybe wanna get out of here? my apartment’s less than a ten minute walk away.” for a moment, you wonder if that’s too much for just having met, but sam visibly relaxes just a little bit more.

“that would be nice,” he smiles. he’s getting ready to stand when he glances across the bar, seemingly remembering about his partner. or not partner. you’re not quite sure. “my brother, dean,” he explains simply when he catches your gaze on the other man. “i should tell him where i’m going.”

“okay,” you nod, filing the new information away in your mind and watching him weave between tables and flirting couples to reach his brother. the exchange is a bit funny to watch. at first dean looks annoyed at being interrupted by sam. then he glances at you with a sly smirk and makes some comment that is probably less than appropriate judging from his expression. and then his face morphs into one of surprise before it’s taken over by a smile. he claps sam on the shoulder and sends him off. you almost miss the look that dean gives you as sam heads back towards you because you’re so focused on the sweet smile that sam’s now wearing. you only catch dean’s look for a second before sam is back at your side. it’s easy to assume dean as the older brother, with his eyes on you being protective, proud, careful, and happy all at once. and they’re close enough that sam told him about you right away.

walking home with sam at your side is both completely strange and familiar all at once. it’s strange for a number of reasons, the main being that you’d never invite any other unknown man to your apartment, especially not one with a cryptic identity and such an imposing build. and yet, you’re not afraid or worried because of how familiar and safe it feels. it feels familiar because it feels right, it feels like exactly what you should be doing.

on the way over, he asks about you a little bit, trying not to overwhelm you with questions or seem overbearing with how eager he is to hear what you have to say. his kindness and carefulness are clear to you, and you love it. you answer happily, despite knowing he’s partially asking to avoid talking about himself until you settle down.

once inside, sam follows you right to the couch in the living room, sitting when you motion towards it and plop down into a chair across from him. he takes in the space, eyes roaming over your furniture, decor, and every little detail. he wants to know about you, just like you do him.

“it’s really nice in here,” he compliments, sounding so sincere that it’s just sweet.

“thank you,” you respond softly, wondering exactly what parts of the room he likes. you let him look around a second or two more before speaking again. “so… can i ask? you know, about it all, i guess? about you?”

he doesn’t say it aloud, but he thinks the way that you ask is so lovely. half of him wants to make up some silly, somewhat believable explanation to spare you the truth, but he knows that would never work out well. not if you choose to stay together in some way or another. already, that’s what he wants. he doesn’t doubt that you’re indeed his soulmate, the one who he’s been sharing wounds and flowers with for as long as he can remember. sam has both yearned for and dreaded this moment. he tries not to be obvious about it or over do it, but he’s sort of a total romantic. he’s had doubts about how this whole idea of soulmates could really be real or make much sense, but those thoughts are eased with each moment he spends with you. he still wants to get to know you before he does anything with you, but the way that he wants to get to know you is something he’s never felt before. it’s undeniably special.

the dread is because he’s known ever since he got back into hunting that he’d never be able to hide the truth of his world from you. he has no idea how he’s going to get to you to believe him or convince you that he’s not completely insane, but he’s going to tell you the truth anyway. even if you do believe him, he wants to give you a choice. you shouldn’t have to get involved with this life in any way at all if you don’t want to. he’d never force you to try things with him if it’s too strange or too scary or hard or anything. and already, he knows that he’ll never stop thinking about you if you do choose to stay away, but he also knows that he’d never try to change your mind or force you to do anything else other than exactly what you want.

“of course you can ask,” he responds, matching the softness of your own voice. “i, um– i’m honestly not quite sure how to say all of this without sounding totally crazy, and i completely understand that, but just– try to bear with me, i guess. and if you need proof, which i also understand, i’ll do my best to get it for you, it’s just– sort of hard.”

honestly, you’re wildly confused as to what the hell he could possibly say that would make him this anxious. it worries you a little bit too. you don’t want him to feel afraid to tell you anything at all. so, you nod at him in encouragement, trying not to seem nervous yourself.

“my brother and i, we– we hunt monsters. real ones. ghosts, vampires, demons, the works. they’re all real. your coworkers who died, they were– they were killed by an angry spirit. we got rid of it last night,” he says those words like they’re a ten ton weight off of his chest, but he’s still got another ten sitting there as he awaits your response. he looks at you so carefully, trying to gauge any sort of reaction.

you raise your eyebrows in surprise, and probably disbelief and a million other things. “angry spirit? like a ghost?” you’re not sure why that’s the first question that slips out, but you suppose it’s an easier one than are you insane? or what the hell are you talking about?

he nods his head carefully, like he’s waiting for you to freak out or call him crazy and tell him to go. “yeah. the ghost, she had died there, near the bathrooms where you felt the cold spot, in the 90s. she was triggered to kill when the man suspected of her murder was granted parole.”

“okay,” you breathe out, sort of nervously. the craziest thing is that you don’t disbelieve him. you’re not convinced by any stretch, but when you look him in the eye and listen close to his voice, there’s nothing but sincerity there. “i mean… that is sort of a kinda crazy thing to say,” you begin, “but i’ve always sort of believed in ghosts, so i don’t think you’re completely, you know, insane.” you laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood a little. you don’t want him to stress, however unbelievable his words are. “the rest is a bit… shaky, i guess. it’s a hard thing to believe, i mean… vampires. and– and demons. it’s a lot. and honestly, i’m not sure how much i’ll really, truly believe until i see, i don’t know, something, i guess,” you admit, “but… but i don’t think you’re lying to me either.”

“thank you for that,” he says, voice as sincere as ever, “and i completely understand. honestly, part of me didn’t want to tell you at all, but… it’s sort of my whole entire life at this point and it wouldn’t be fair to hide from you. or– or to not give you a choice right off the bat of whether or not you wanted to be involved. it’s– it’s a lot and it’s dangerous. and if it’s what you want, i promise i’ll try to find a way to prove it to you, it’s just… hard to do that without putting you in danger. and i really don’t want to put you in danger.”

“that’s sweet, sam,” you say, not really bothering to hide the way you feel. “i’m not, you know, eager to meet any monsters anytime soon, but whenever it’s… the least dangerous, i guess, you can show me. until then… i’ll just trust you. and in the meantime maybe we can sort of just get to know each other?” you suggest, surprising yourself with how ready you are to trust him on this.

sam smiles at you sweetly. “that sounds perfect to me. i just– i don’t want to force you into something you don’t want for yourself. i live out of crappy motels and my brother’s car while hunting monsters that shouldn’t be real. i’m just… i’m sorry i’m not someone easier.”

you smile at him sort of sadly. “that’s not your fault, sam. i never asked for someone ‘easy’ anyway. just someone kind and respectful and you seem to be just that so far. besides, there’s gotta be a reason, right? that… we’re soulmates. honestly, if you were anyone else i wouldn’t trust you like this. an–and it’s not like i’m trusting you blindly because of something that we’re supposed to be. we just met. i’m only trusting you because it feels right to. and this whole soulmate thing never made too much sense to me until i met you. now it sort of does, because this feels right so far. at least, it does to me.”

“it feels right to me too,” he quickly assures, not wanting for you to misunderstand that for a second.

⟢⟢⟢

as two people who aren’t quite ready to jump into such a committed relationship with completely different lives, it’s a little bit strange to be soulmates. and yet, nothing about it is anything but honey-sweet to you. the night you met as soulmates for the first time, you ended up talking for hours. all you had to do was sort of ignore the huge and slightly unbelievable bomb he dropped on you within the first hour of talking. oddly enough, that was sort of easy. you learned that sam’s appetite for knowledge is just about insatiable, including when it comes to knowing about you.

he had words rolling off of your tongue, asking the best, most interesting questions and providing such sincere and in-depth responses. that night, he was just lovely, and that’s pretty much all he’s been since. he’s this adorable mix of confident and shy, awkward and knowing just the right thing to say. and he’s incredibly smart, an almost stanford pre-law graduate who was headed for bigger things before he was pulled back into hunting a little over two years ago. this explains the difference in all his injuries from the past two years versus the three beforehand. secretly, you mourn for the life that he, and subsequently you, might have had, but only because he gets a little wistful every time he talks about stanford.

mostly, you talk on the phone, only stopping late in the night when one of you catches the other yawning. he seems to sleep so little, yet he lives such a tiring life. you almost always seem to be the one who gets too tired first. one night, you fell asleep to his voice, and since then, you feel like it’s the single best way to drift into dreams.

sam tries to avoid the topic of the supernatural, but you ask him about it anyway. as you get used to the idea of monsters being real, you find yourself wanting to understand it all better. you want to understand him better. and you don’t want him to feel like he has to hide the biggest parts of his life from you or for him to have trouble fitting you into his world.

he always answers your questions, omitting any extreme gore or death, but it doesn’t take long for you to realize how many people he really saves. that’s his life; saving people.

it takes three weeks for you to see him again since the first night, and three more plus a whole lot of convincing on your end for him to bring you on a hunt with him. he tries to hide it, but he’s so worried for you, despite all the reassurances he’s made that this particular ghost isn’t really all that violent or dangerous. by now, you’ve already come to mostly believe all that he's told you, but to see it in real life is still the final confirmation that you need to be fully convinced.

sam keeps you by his side the whole time, one hand on you every moment that he can afford it. the second the ghost appears, he blasts it with a salt round from his shotgun, and he thinks he could cry when you flinch at the loud noise. yet, he feels comforted that you don’t seem all too scared. and strangely, you really aren’t. sam easily makes you feel safe. luckily, the next time the ghost appears, it bursts into flames moments later thanks to dean burning the bones.

the moment it’s gone, sam drops the gun to the ground and turns to you, accidentally ruining the now unnecessary salt line around you in his rush to check on you.

“are you okay?” he asks gently, a hand on your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek as he looks you up and down.

“i’m alright, sam,” you reassure. it’s true that you’re a little shaky, and just the tiniest bit scared, but to have your confirmation and sam by your side is much more important to you.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes anyway, pulling you into a hug that’s more for his peace of mind than yours. of course, you don’t complain, easily finding his arms to be your new favorite place in the world.

oddly enough, taking it almost slow works well. he kisses you the next time he sees you, a week and a half later, and you’ve never wanted anything more than to have him keep kissing you, over and over again. he just feels like yours and you feel like his and you’ve barely known him for long, but when he kisses you it’s like there’s stars hung from the ceiling and flowers made from nothing but love and healing growing all over you. when he kisses you it’s sunlight and moonglow bottled up and mixed with sweet, pure maple syrup. his lips on yours feel like lucky four leaf clovers, like it’s possible to taste heaven on someone else’s tongue.

and though it mostly works for him to just visit as often as he can, which sometimes isn’t often at all, and to call him at every moment you can, the yearning only grows. you swear that you’re addicted to his lips, to his big hands cupping your jaw all gentle and sweet or his bulky arms boxing you in as he kisses you so hard that you melt right into the sheets.

and some nights, though he tries to hide it, you can hear him struggling with what seems to be the weight of the world on his shoulders. his job is anything but easy or fruitful. before, you thought that you might worry less when you found out exactly why your soulmate was getting injured so often, but now every time new blooms appear on your skin, you spend all day fretting until you can get him on the phone to make sure he’s alright.

you suppose he gets just as worried as you, despite the fact that you’re never in nearly as much danger as he is. a week ago, a jagged edge on a metal wire fence snagged at your skin, drawing a very shallow, but long line of blood down your forearm. seconds later, you had a frantic sam on the phone, so worried about all the little blue flowers on his arm. 

it’s not as hard as he thinks for you to tell how much fear and worry he lives in. you know that he doesn’t tell you the half of it sometimes, even when you ask. all you want is to have him a little closer, to be there for him and provide the sort of comfort that you’re sure he’s never really had before. and though he’s told you that having you to talk to, so receptive and encouraging for him, has been a complete blessing, you still wish for more. you want his arms enveloping you and his lips on yours and his warm body in your bed. really, you just miss him. all the time.

⟢⟢⟢

tonight is one of the glorious nights that you get to have him with you. his broad frame takes up so much space in your bed, and you love it more than just about anything. he props himself up on one elbow and you mirror his pose as you let your eyes roam over each other’s features and take turns rambling about every little thing from this past week. unable to resist, sam kisses you often. he just leans over, swiftly closing the small space between you and pressing his lips to yours. he looks so beautiful like this; at peace, his shirtless body and protective tattoo framed all prettily by clean white sheets.

eventually, comforting words turn into a comforting silence, and you drop your head to your pillow. your eyes droop a little as you play with the idea letting a few more words slip from your tongue. you want to say something to him, but you can’t tell if it’s the right time.

sam settles on his pillow, just like you. “what is it?” he whispers, inviting and respectful. his voice tells you that you’re welcome to say whatever you’re thinking about, but that it’s okay if you don’t want to quite yet.

you smile a little at how well he’s able to read you. since he asked so sweetly, you say it. “i can’t be away from you, sam. i love you, i really do.” this isn’t the first time you’ve said the three special words to each other, but his eyes grow infinitely softer than they were before each time you do.

this time, his eyes do soften, but he cringes a little too, because he feels sorry and because he feels the same exact way. “i can’t make you live like i do. i love you, too, so much. and i hate being away from you, but this? this life, it– it’s sort of awful, and it’s dangerous and hard and–”

you swiftly cut him off with a kiss that he more than willingly melts into. “i know,” you whisper against his lips, barely moving from him to speak. “but– but what if we tried something else? you still go on your hunts and all that, but you and dean can stay here in between. there’s this cabin in the woods i’ve been eyeing, it’s sort of small but it’s isolated and we could ward it. i’ve been looking into protection and warding spells, and i think we could make it work… only, you know, if you wa–”

this time he’s the one to cut you off with a kiss, passionate and sweet all at once. when your lips part, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours like he can’t bear to be any further from you.

“i want to,” he says, voice so sure and sturdy. “i really want to… but how’re we gonna get the house? it’s not like me or dean can buy property, and i can’t make you–”

“i want to,” you echo his words, just as sincerely. “please, sam, let me do this. i’ve been saving money for a long time and it’s a little run down so it’s not too expensive. and i’m getting sick of this apartment.”

“you’re gonna live there?” he asks, not bothering to hide his hope and sparkling joy at that idea.

you grin. “of course. there’s three bedrooms and it’s so pretty and i can’t, you know, pay for that and the apartment at the same time. and i– i wanna be there every time you get home.”

that word gets to him. sam doesn’t really have a solid or normal concept of home—the closest thing he has is the impala. but it sounds so right when it comes out of your mouth. “and– and you’re okay with that?” he asks, still needing to be reassured, “you said it was isolated, and–”

“i’m sure, sam,” you emphasize, “it’s only 20 minutes from town and the roads to and from are never busy. i’ve always wanted to live in the woods, i swear. and if it meant i could be with you more, i’d never ever say no to this. please… can we talk to dean about it?”

“yes,” he gushes. “yes, of course, i– you’re amazing.” he seals the deal with a firm, giddy kiss. “and if dean says he doesn’t like the idea, i don’t care. i’m gonna do this with you.” another kiss and your heart softens infinitely. “besides, he loves the pie from the bakery on morrison street, which means he can’t say no.” he gives you another kiss and pulls away again, and you know that he’s bound to keep rambling if you let him, so you wrap an arm around his neck and thread your fingers through his soft, pretty hair. then you kiss him hard until he can’t breathe. he returns the favor by tenfold, whispering through labored breath how much he loves you and wants you and thinks that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

[satkru]

Caked up Male!Reader getting hit on and felt up by his classmates at Jujutsu High.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 2nd yrs and 1st yrs x m!reader (w a FATTIE)

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ : zhellas bby.. ur reqs have my SOUL on a leash 😭

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ : m! reader w a big ol booty , (kindve??) oblivious reader , free-use reader , these students got NOO SHAME 🙏🏽‼️ , booty grabbing , booty slapping , groping (basically) , nsfw jokes abt the reader, i HATE panda so dont expect him to be here

YUUJI - ✦

y'all know yuuji aint the type of guy to let a perfectly good ass untouched, hes a literal FIEN for ts. so it wasnt a total surprise whenever yuuji was around his hand would sometimes (if not always) near y/n's voluptuous ass. his hand on one cheek gripping the ever living shit out of it. he just couldnt get enough of how circular it was and how it jiggled every time y/n walked.

before training, itadori would slap y/n's ass as a "good luck charm", as if the boner in his pants would help him in combat..

MEGUMI - ✦

fushiguro is the FARTHEST thing of a pervert, but when it comes to y/n.. god he just cant handle himself

hes very shy with his actions, mostly due to the fact that if he let himself get handsy with you, he'd go absolutely FERAL.

just the slight wobble of y/n's ass is enough to boggle megumi's mind and keep him busy for the next 2 hours.

but nevertheless, megumi is still a sane and sensible person around y/n, although he can be seen stumbling over his words whenever he does get the chance to talk to him.

NOBARA - ✦

goodness me.. nobara doesnt know how to keep her hands off y/n's fat ol booty..

she thinks she can excuse herself because shes "just a girl and girls can always feel up their friends butt whenever they want to" (her exact words) of course, because of her totally convincing tone, y/n doesnt think anything of the close and personal touching nobara does.

nobara LOVES grabbing handfuls of y/n's ass and wobbling it in her hands. making sure to take in every jiggle it produced.

INUMAKI - ᰔ

y/n is EXTREMELY lucky inumaki isnt such a freak, cs if he was, he would be commanding him to make it clap every second of the day.

inumaki isnt as handy as the others are, in fact, hes the most calmest of the bunch. but he does have his moments where he just cant help himself and starts to mess around with y/n. such as commanding him to grab something off the floor even if he was the one to drop it in the first place.

seeing y/n's arched back and his ass swaying back and forth just makes inumaki go into a frenzy. wishing he could act out everything hes ever thought of doing to you.

MAKI - ᰔ

LORD.. maki has absolutely ZERO shame in her body when it comes to y/n's fat ass. shes constantly hitting on him and fitting both of her hands around y/n's juicy and perky booty.

shes constantly making sex jokes between her and y/n and even goes behind to give him some "practice backshots".

maki makes absolute SURE that y/n's ass is constantly in perfect condition, even going as far as to carry a measuring tape to keep data on y/n's ass to see if it has grown or not.

definitely safe to say that she is very.. VERY... dedicated to the research of y/n's voluptuous booty..

YUUTA - ᰔ

im tired of ppl trying to play yuuta as a "sweet summer child", this man is DOWN for a BIG, JUICY FAT ASS like y/n's.

although he does get a bit nervous when hes around y/n due to his ass being so big it can make him hard just by one small movement.

yuuta is always taking the chances to feel up on y/n's bottom. if hes lucky enough, y/n will give yuuta special permission to lay his head of his butt.

which, safe to say, has made itself a special memory inside yuuta's brain.

[hauntedwitch04]

I'm so excited

Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 4.0k words

Warnings: smut, possessive!Remus, swearing, not proofreaded (sorry it's really late, and I'm starting to imagine things :) )

Author’s note: Hi loves! I'm so so so so so sorry, but life it's really kinking me in the ass and seems like uni likes to do the same, so I hope to write some more during this break. Let me know if you liked this one, your witch Becky

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 11: Breeding (tbt maybe isn't that much breeding, but I let myself get carried away by Remus Fucking Lupin)

Title of the one shot (and song in it): I'm so excited by The pointer sisters

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Remus could swear that he had never hated you as much as he did at that moment.

You and young Lupin had never been big fans of each other, as you both competed to be your year's brightest witch and wizard, but for some time the hungry little wolf in him had begun to see more than just a rival of wits in you: prey.

Each time he could not help but dwell on your hair, your smile (unfortunately never directed at him), your wonderful and magnetic eyes, and then wander over aspects that made his thoughts less pure. At night he dreamed of being able to touch your breasts, his most secret and darkest desire, being able to kiss, taste and bite them, almost putting his signature on you, so that everyone, even that idiot Ravenclaw of your year knew that no one but him could touch you; or he dreamed of leaving a trail of kisses from your belly down to your belly, to your thighs, which he imagined were so soft and sweet, until a scream from Sirius woke him up in the morning, telling him he was late, again. Sometimes in the dullest classes he marveled at imagining what it would be like to come inside you, to possess you in such a primitive, animal way; to see his cum dripping from your pussy as his fingers brought it back inside you, into your womb, where it belonged according to him.

Part of Remus knew that he had no right to impose himself on you in that possessive way, but somehow the wolf inside him disagreed, having decided that you were by far the most captivating and attractive prey he had ever seen.

Despite everything, however, young Lupin had always managed to make sure that he did not give in to his instincts, well at least until this evening.

The Hufflepuffs had decided to throw another party, to take the pressure off the young students in this exam-filled period, and of course his friends had decided that Remus absolutely had to attend to tell them "to relax a bit," but Sirius, as they were getting ready to arrive at the place where the party was being held, had looked at Remus and raising his eyebrows in an endearing way, with the look of someone who knows more than he should, had said that he knew for a fact that you would be at the party. Remus had never wanted to punch him as much as he did at that exact moment, but the thought that had grafted itself into him of you, dancing in the middle of a dance floor, not in the usual clothes he saw you in class in, but freer and more yourself, had been enough to make him close his mouth in fear that an involuntary moan would escape his lips.

But his imagination had not even come close to reality.

He had been sitting in an armchair for two hours now, stiff and panting, while next to him two are making out as if he were not next to them, but Remus cares nothing about what is happening next to him, the only thing he can focus on is you.

Right now you've climbed on top of one of the tables in the center of the room with your friend, and you're dancing one attached to the other, moving your pelvis in time to the music. You are wearing a simple black T-shirt with a V-neckline, ending just above your belly button and highlighting your breasts, which made young Lupin say a long string of swear words when he first saw you when he entered the room, hoping that like a spell they might change what you are wearing into cute, soft pajamas with Christmas puppets, or make the painful erection he was feeling go away. A simple skirt, on the other hand, moved in time with your hips, showing off your legs, neither too much nor too little. It was shocking to Remus how on an occasion like this you had managed to maintain the same elegance and class you show in class when you get into an argument with him about who is right, in fact he almost seemed to see the same stubbornness and confidence in your eyes at this moment as you downed another sip of your drink, which you had managed not to spill despite everything despite continuing to move.

"If you take a picture of her, you'll be able to look at it again tonight you know, when you can't help but-" Sirius whispers in his ear, waking Remus from the trance-like state he had fallen into.

"We get it Padfoot, you don't need to go on." James stops him, as he gets a glimpse of the young wolf from behind their friend's back.

Remus rolls his eyes, only to look in his hands at the drink that he has now finished, and without saying anything to his friends he turns and goes to the table where the bottles of alcohol are.

He pauses for a moment to look at which of the proposed spirits is the strongest, to make sure that he also forgets his name, as well as the sinful thoughts your body brings him.

However, everything changes in a matter of seconds.

The young wolf has finally identified what he wants to drink when a body pulls up, still moving in time to the music. Remus turns to glare evilly at anyone who has bumped into him at such an unhappy and difficult time in his life, when he sees the culmination of all his problems: you.

He can't help but look at you enraptured even more than before, now with the possibility of being able to notice up close all the details that had eluded him a few minutes ago; besides given the difference in height, now your V-neckline offers him a view of your breasts unseen before, so much so that he has to restrain himself from running into the nearest bathroom and throwing cold water on his face, and more.

Your hair reflects the moonlight, which comes from a nearby window, and at that moment Remus realizes a truth that had escaped him just before: in three days it would be a full moon.

Not understanding how something so important could have slipped his mind, he realizes that all last week he had been too busy cursing your name or moaning it at night to realize that the moon was changing night after night.

You are the only thing he can now understand and think about, and this terrifies him, but at the same time makes him feel good.

Coming to her senses, she realizes that caught up in the rhythm of the music and the alcohol you practically danced on him. Lupin feeling a presence in his pants becoming more and more obvious and the wolf inside him getting louder and louder, decides that he cannot stay a second longer in this room, so he hurries out of the Hufflepuff common room, to find himself thus in the corridors. He begins to run, not going too far, but far enough to still hear the background music, thinking he is alone, when he hears footsteps.

Remus turns and sees you, leaning forward trying to regain the breath you had lost in running after him. Again the sight of your cleavage is enough to make him say a sequence of swear words under his breath as you pull yourself up and look at him.

"What are you doing here?" Remus asks, in an almost mean tone, yet unable to hide a note of longing as he tries to send you away by being rude to you.

"Your friends looked pretty bad to me, and they asked me to see if you were okay when you ran away from the party." You reply in the same acid tone he had used, before bursting out laughing. "What an idiot I am. I thought that at least this time if I showed you kindness, you would see that I'm not a bitch like you like to paint me."

"Why do you care so much that I think so highly of you?" He asks, intrigued, as he mentally slaps himself for the question he just asked.

"Because you are a person that everyone esteems and appreciates, and it is an honor to be appreciated by you in this damn school, and I never understood what I did to deserve the treatment I get from you. Do you really hate me for a couple of assignments and lessons? Are you really that arrogant?" You ask as you take a step toward him, but the sight of you so angry and panting with your hair messed up is enough to make him go wild, imagining you in the same condition, but this time because of him in a different way: under him and panting from his kisses as he makes you cry out in pleasure with his member. Remus takes a step back to catch his breath as he tries with all his might not to jump on you, and to banish his thoughts with images of pink-bearded Dumbledore dancing to a Christmas song. You, however, misinterpret that step backward, and respond with another step forward toward him.

"What more do I have to do than that Lupin? I'm laying myself bare before you, what more do I have to do Remus? Tell me."

Upon hearing his name fall from your fleshy lips, a short-circuit occurs in Remus's brain, who, no longer able to have control over his body, pounces on you like a predator who manages to finally get his fangs on his prey.

You initially don't know how to react when you feel his mouth on yours, but after a few seconds you return the kiss with equal passion. Your hands go into his brown hair, pulling it, while at the same time you press his face even harder against yours. Instead, his hands travel the way from your hips to your butt to your thighs, where with a nimble move Remus pulls you up as if you weighed nothing, while your back collides with the cold stone wall, enough to make you moan into the boy's mouth.

So you stay endless minutes kissing, in that lost hallway, while underneath the music seems to give you the tempo with which your tongues must move.

Then Remus pauses, trying to catch his breath, leaning his forehead against yours, still trying to keep at bay the wolf inside him that was clawing at the door to get out.

"You're still in time to run away baby. If you don't leave now, I don't know if I can guarantee that I can stop another time." Remus whispers a few inches from your lips as you too catch your breath. You look at him confused, not understanding why he sees what you were doing, or what you might soon be doing, as a terrible thing you would like to run away from instead of something you have been running toward for years.

And instead of answering him, she starts humming the song that had just started at the party.

"Tonight's the night we're gonna make it happen-" Whispers kissing his forehead. "-tonight we'll put all other things aside-" You continue kissing his eyes. "-give in this time and show me some affection-" You sing as you kiss his cheeks, hearing him moan, almost as if it is a pain what you are doing, even though you know for sure from the erection pressing against your belly that it is not. "-We're goin' for those pleasures in the night.-" You say finally kissing him on the lips, lightly brushing against his before continuing to sing. "-I want to love you, feel you, wrap myself around you, I want to squeeze you, please you, I just can't get enough, and if you move real slow, I'll let it go-" now, however, it is he who begins his attack with slow kisses from your ear to your mouth, not even touching it though before moving down to your neck.

"-I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it, I'm about to lose control and I think I like it, I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it, and I know, I know, I know, I know I want you." You finish singing the refrain panting as he finishes leaving marks all the way down your neck to the hollow, leaving almost his mark, wanting everyone to know who was lucky enough to have you in his arms and on his lips.

"Do you still have doubts Lupin, or should I go back to my room and do for myself what you haven't given me yet? Or maybe I could go back to the party and find someone, maybe Sirius-" You try to provoke him, but your words die in your throat as one of his hands tightens around your neck.

"Don't ever try to mention another guy's name at the moment I'm about to fuck you, or next time not only will I leave all these bites on your neck but I'll also put a nice collar on you." He states in a hard, confident voice, enough to make you tremble, as you feel a warm sensation creating in your lower abdomen. "You'd like that wouldn't you, baby? A nice collar that tells everyone where you belong?" He continues, realizing that he has touched the right keys.

You gasp and search within yourself for the strength to respond to him.

"Lupin, I swear if-" You try to say, but you can't finish.

"Oh my baby, are we off to a bad start? What's my name?" He interrupts you, tightening his grip on your neck a little more.

"Remus, please Remus I need you."

"What do you need baby?" He asks, as with a sly grin he watches you wiggle under his gaze, as if your body is on fire.

"I need you to fuck me. Now. There's a broom cupboard nearby, no one ever comes by here." You propose in hopes of soon alleviating the feeling of longing you feel.

"And here I thought all you did was keep your pretty little nose in the books all the time." He taunts you, as always with your legs wrapped around his waist and one arm wrapped behind your back and the other on your neck, he leads you toward the place you suggested just now.

"And now I find out that instead you are nothing but a little whore, ready to get fucked in the broom closet. Don't worry baby, I'll prove to you that once again I'm better at it than you are."

"Oh yeah and how?" You manage to say, once the door to the cramped little room, capable of holding only the two of you standing, is closed behind you. Dust gets into your nostrils, and you don't even want to think about how many bugs there must be on these walls, but the only thing you care about now is the man between your legs, and what he might do.

"You'll learn to recite my name better than any spell they've ever taught you, and I know for a fact that you'll appreciate its result much more, I'd say it's nothing short of ecstatic." He replies, before venturing back to your lips to devour you as if it were his last meal on earth, and he hadn't eaten in weeks.

You feel his warm hands settle on your breasts, and then reach to the edge of the T-shirt you are wearing and slip it off, leaving before his eyes a view of your chest, covered only by your bra.

"Merlin, how I love your boobs." Remus confesses, before moving on to leave open-mouthed kisses and bites on all the skin he finds available, then quickly and surely removing your bra in less time than you realize.

Now that your hair is uncovered and in contact with the cold night air, it stiffens, and the young wolf is not slow to take one between his lips and tease the other with his hand, until your hands are violently embedded in his hair and your moans grow louder and louder.

"Please, Remus, I need more." You beg him in a whisper, so you feel one of his hands rest on your hip, while the other descends to your panties, and his mouth continues to torture your right hair, with the constancy with which he wants to prove he is better than you in class. He lowers one of your legs by resting it on the floor, so that access to his coveted treasure is easier. His hand grazes your pussy from above your panties, sending a shiver down your entire back as you gasp through your lips, resting your head on his shoulder.

With a gentle gesture he moves his fingers between your panties and the most sensitive and delicate spot on your body, making you gasp.

"God baby, I didn't think you were so wet." He comments, making you blush. "Didn't you want more baby? I swear I won't stop until you beg me to stop." He whispers in your ear, pulling away from your nipple for a moment, then attaching the other one, leaving the one from before wet from his saliva to the night breeze, thus making you shiver with pleasure again and getting you even wetter.

One of his long, slender fingers enters you, teasing you, before adding a second. He moves his fingers with agility and confidence, like those of a musician performing his favorite piece that he has been playing for years now. He touches inside you in all the right places, making you moan with pleasure.

That delicious torture goes on for minutes that seem like hours.

Your lips are on the verge of splitting from how much you are biting them, when you feel coming like a wave the orgasm to which your gestures are leading you.

"Remus I'm going to-"

"Cum." He says simply, looking you fixedly in the eyes, from his full height. You stare gazing at those wonderful chocolate-colored crystal orbs, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering through the cracks in the door, when you can no longer stop the inevitable in the face of his oh-so-dry command. You reach the pinnacle of pleasure, and it is as if for a moment you can touch the sky with your finger. Your soul goes out of your body for a moment, until you open your eyes again, gasping and he looks at you with a satisfied look.

"And that's just the beginning baby, you still have to come on my cock." He comments, as with a lightning-fast gesture he unbuckles his underpants and pulls down his panties, just enough to make his member come out. You remain mute staring at his cock for a moment, noting its size: it wasn't the first time you had fucked someone, but none of the guys could match Remus, that was for sure.

"See anything you like baby?" He asks you sarcastically, as you feel your pussy getting even wetter than it already is.

"Maybe, but you still have a promise to keep so you'd better get to work." You retort, before being silenced by his lips. With his hands he directs his cock toward your entrance, then puts it all the way inside you without warning, leaving you breathless with your back pressed against the door. You feel him inside you in places you didn't even think he could reach, as he stays still to give you a minimum of time to adjust to his size.

"Oh baby, don't worry, I'm a man of my word. You will walk out of here that I will have branded you with my cum from inside, so that everyone will know for sure that you are mine." He whispers in your ear before starting to move. He comes almost completely out of you, leaving only the tip in, then comes back in with a dry, sure thump a couple of times, to start moving faster and faster and harder. Part of you wonders if he really means what he said about coming inside you to place his ownership over you, and at the very thought you can't help but tighten the walls of your pussy around him.

"Do you like the idea? Of having my cum inside you dripping down your thighs, letting everyone know you're mine?" He says and you can't help but gasp, the pleasure clouding your mind. "Shit, I can already picture you all proud and strutting walking down the school hallways, no panties on, while everyone stares at you and in your lap all my cum. Who knows maybe I could even get you pregnant." Remus continues, as you moan his name louder and louder, hearing what he says. The young wolf can swear that by now the beast inside him has become uncontainable, the only thing he can think about is coming inside you and making sure you have her pups, to bite you and let everyone know you are uniquely hers, in such an animal way that he is surprised you are not fucking in the woods, just like two wild creatures, since you have now become that: pleasure-seeking animals to survive.

"Remus, come inside me. I'm close to coming again, please." You beg him, after a few minutes have passed in silence, too busy fucking each other to talk.

"First you baby then I will make sure you can have my puppies, however, first you have to squeeze that beautiful pussy you have around my cock. Come for me baby."

And at those words you can't help but come one more time. Your head becomes light, as if floating, as your vision darkens. Your pussy squeezes hard and in rhythm with Remus's cock, which stimulated by your orgasm goes to meet his, letting all his seed pour into you in long, powerful spurts.

You remain still and connected for a few minutes before Remus begins to laugh. You look at him confused and tired, ready for yet another joke from him at you and even more personal teasing after such an intimate moment, when he leaves you a light kiss on your cheek and asks, "Do you really think I would ever be able to hate you, I was convinced you couldn't stand even the sight of me."

Smile in turn as you look at him, before you also speak.

"Well apparently neither of them is as smart in the end as they think they are I would say."

Bonus (I think I definitely have a problem with bonuses)

Sirius looks at his friend, sitting next to him on the settee, as he sees you re-enter holding Remus's hand at the party, now decidedly calmer than an hour and a half ago, when both of you had left without a trace and without telling anyone where you were going. The two of you approach the liquor table, laughing and joking as you look into each other's eyes, with a smile that says a lot about your nocturnal activities in the hallways, though only to those who are able to pick up on the signs.

Sirius and James seeing that exchange look at each other and jumping to their feet scream in unison:

"He did it!" Turning many loving couples around, including their friend and you, watching them confusedly do a dance of joy between bodies of boys asleep from exhaustion and alcohol, not knowing that this night would be the end of you, as they would forever use it against you as an argument in every speech to prove that two such smart people can be, by far, the dumbest.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @yomomsgf @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @forsiriussake @thedogisontopofyhecarmom @estrellademiel @ash04w3 @shitidksstuff @ohemgeewhat @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @kidsaproblem @that1nerd20 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @hi-my-name-is-riley @morganalatina21 @nightfiress @shodowbane09 @theyluvtrinity21 @harleycao @starsval @shhdontlookk @titinkaaa @sapphire118 @xbugsyx @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @holb32 @afcnds @deanwinchestersgirl87 @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626 @biahz1

[pvppybun]

Love Languages

Gn!Reader, sfw

How genshin men show their love

Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kaveh, Ayato

Reposted from old acct @angelbvnny

Tartaglia

He definitely loves gift giving. Have you seen how he treats his siblings? Buying them anything and everything any chance he gets. He's the exact same way with you. Tartaglia adores showering you with gifts. No matter the price he'll buy it without a second thought. Although it can be a little uncomfortable at times, when you think about the amount of mora being spent on you, but you know this is just his way of letting you know he cares <3

His favorite thing to gift you is clothing! He likes picking out outfits for you to wear, insisting on having a little fashion show just for the two of you. He just thinks you're so cute in the clothes he picks out for you :) any time there's an event you both have to attend you can be certain there will be a brand new outfit waiting for you on your bed.

Besides gift giving, he's also big with physical touch. Ajax is quite a control freak, constantly feeling the need to have full control over any situation. This means he needs to be touching you in some way at all times, to tell you (and himself) that you're safe. No matter where you are, he will have his arm wrapped around you or be holding onto your hand.

He's also just a very touchy person! Even before you started dating there was many pats on the back and hands on your shoulder. He just doesn't have boundaries that most people have, and doesn't realize he doesn't have them. You find it very endearing when he grabs hold of you without even realizing.

Wanderer

He has a hard time expressing his feelings for you so acts of service is his favorite. When he isn't doing something to purposefully make your life harder, because let's be honest, his favorite thing in the world is to irritate you, he does what he can to make every other part of it easier. Any time he comes over he'll bring food for you to have dinner with him, always being sure to bring your favorite, even if he doesn't like it.

If you're crammed with work or school and leave your place unattended to become dirty, and he comes over? He'll go on and on about how messy and unorganized you are and how if HE were living with you he'd never let it get like this. Complaining about the state of the room and how miserable it's making him, all while throwing away the trash, putting up clothes, and organizing your things. You notice but choose to keep it to yourself <3

Something as equally important to him is quality time. Scara can get very lonely, very quickly, without you. You don't even need to be talking, in fact he quite enjoys the silence, just being in the presence of his love is enough to keep him at peace. Although he prefers it to just be the two of you, no matter where he's at, it's much more bearable with you around.

He really enjoys taking naps with you, although what you're unaware of, is that it's rare that he actually sleeps. He will close his eyes and wait until your breathing slows and your hold on him loosens, then open his eyes and simply observe you. He loves getting to watch you in such a relaxed state. He will trace the shape of your nose, your mouth, your jaw, with his finger tip, moving your hair to get a better view of your face. He's able to do things he'd never be able to do with you conscious, and able to tease him.

Kaveh

Kaveh is SO clingy so physical touch is a give-in. You're basically his personal teddy bear. Even if he's extremely busy with a project he will insist that you sit on his lap while he works. There have been many late nights that you fall asleep hugging his chest as he continues to work. You being there is the only thing that gets him through the night sometimes.

His excessive cuddling only gets worse when he drinks. As he stumbles through the door, skin flushed on his face, you know it will be a long night. He will coo at you saying how cute you are, squeezing your cheeks, and playing with your hair. You have to be appreciative of his delirious state, unable to notice the way your face heats up at his compliments. Eventually he will conk out on top of you, holding you close.

He also adores words of affirmation. He enjoys telling you just how much he loves you, in great detail. He's always sure to praise you for your efforts, whether big or small. I feel like he would leave sticky notes around your house for you to find like, "You're going to do great today!" Or "Looking beautiful as ever" and it's soooo cheesy but you can't help but love it.

He's always sure to tell others about your accomplishments aswell! His friends and colleagues are probably sick of it by now but he can't help but bring you up in every conversation. Gloating about how amazing you are, because how could he not when he has the best partner in the world??

Ayato

He enjoys acts of service. Ayato is a very observant man. So if he notices that you have even the littlest problem, he will be right on it. He will send as much staff as he deems necessary to aid you. Can he go a little overboard sometimes? Yes. But you can't help but giggle when you make an off handed comment about your back hurting, and the next day you have an appointment with inazuma's best masseuse.

Even if there isn't a problem, he doesn't want his love to have to lift a finger. You've made attempts to help around the estate in various ways but are quickly shut down as he makes a comment about how "that's what Thoma's there for." It's not that he doesn't WANT your help, in fact, the idea of eating your home cooked meals sounds very enticing, it's just that he wants to help lighten the load of things you need to do as much as he can.

Gift giving is another way he shows you that he loves you. Mora isn't an issue with him and he makes that quite clear. Like previously stated, he notices the little things. If you are out in the city and he notices you eyeing a certain tea set, he will 100% buy it. Ayato adores the surprised look on your face when you're presented with the item, you didn't think that he even saw you glimpsing at.

You will always have the newest brand jewelry and clothing. You are his future spouse, which means you are associated with the Kamisato Clan, so of course you have to look your best. That's his reasoning to you of course, really he just loves putting his darling in the highest quality items there is. In his eyes you're an absolute gem, so no amount of mora would ever be too much.

[sammyluvr]

forget-me-nots — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, soulmate!au, fluff, very light angst, light mentions of canon typical death, violence, and monsters, shirtless sam aaaaa, light descriptions of injuries and blood, reader believes in ghosts before knowing about the supernatural, drinking/alcohol mentions, silly criminal minds reference to my gf elle, kissing, poor editing, 5.6K words. requested !

summary : in a world where flowers grow on your skin in the exact places your soulmate is injured, you’re constantly covered in forget-me-nots.

heartache is one thing. heartache for someone you don’t know, someone whose face you’ve never seen or who you’ve never met, is another, stranger thing. it’s common for many to feel this heartache before they know their soulmate, but sometimes you feel as though you have to worry much more than most.

you try not to let thoughts of your mystery soulmate consume you, but you seem to have constant reminders of them litered on your skin in the form of tiny blue flowers. admittedly, you find it romantic that forget-me-nots are your soulmate flower, with their symbolism of true love, respect, and fidelity. the flowers themself feel like a good omen, a sweet promise of a steady love waiting for you. but, the frequency with which they appear on your skin feels far less lucky and always feeds you so much worry for this person you’ve yet to meet.

this morning, you wake with new blooms snaking along your left collarbone, peeking out from the seam of your sleep shirt. and when you change into new clothes, you find a few more growing on your bicep and the side of your ribs.

sighing, you stand at the mirror lightly brushing your fingers over the small flowers and wonder what sort of trouble your soulmate got into last night. as always, worry floods your chest, but you do your best to tamp it down considering the fact that you only bear a few new blooms. the more severe the injury, the more flowers appear on your skin. today, your soulmate must only be dealing with small surface cuts.

sometimes, you’re covered in so many forget-me-nots that you’re too worried to do much of anything at all. more than once, you’ve wondered how your soulmate could still be alive, and the continuous flowers on your skin serve as your only proof that they’re still around. there were a few years where you barely had any blooms, just the usual flower on a fingertip to signify a papercut or the occasional few because of a small accident. but one night the flowers came in bunches and never stopped.

you imagine what you might say or do when you meet them. maybe you’ll want to check on whatever wounds they have, be sure it’s not too bad, or maybe you’ll scold them for making you worry so much. you’ll certainly ask what they do in their life that gets them so injured so often. maybe you’ll do it all.

but for now, you’ll have to move on and get ready for the day. the flowers always linger, though.

⟢⟢⟢

it’s been a rather strange week. the flowers from last thursday have completely faded, and you’ve gone a day or two without any new forget-me-nots appearing on your skin. the strange part has been at work. on monday night, one of your coworkers died in the building, but you still had to come in to work the next day. one of the rooms was taped off, but that was the only evidence of the misfortune. the same thing happened last night, thursday, and you’re ready to do everything you can to get at least the next several days off of work. you don’t want to risk anything.

and now, it seems the goddamn fbi is interested in whatever has happened. you’re not a huge fan of the federal government, but you have to admit that the bureau has sent two of its most attractive agents. normally, you’d keep your head down, but you feel inexplicably drawn to one of them. he’s the taller of the two, which is impressive because the other is already tall, and he has pretty brown hair and dimples that you catch a glimpse of as he talks to one of your coworkers.

he looks away from her as he moves away, seemingly done with the interview. he catches your eye, and your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment. he’s a beautiful man; pretty and sweet looking at the same time as he’s traditionally handsome and slightly imposing. you’ve never loved a stranger’s eyes so much.

he approaches you and you can’t help but watch as he grows closer.

“hi,” he greets with a small smile, “i’m agent greenaway with the fbi. can i ask you a few questions about the deaths from this week?”

“i’m not sure i’ll be much help, but sure,” you nod, folding your arms over your stomach. agent greenaway doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but the topic at hand certainly does.

“that’s alright. sometimes the smallest things can really be helpful,” he reassures, keeping the kind look on his face. “have you noticed anything strange about either of the deceased or the building this past week or so?”

you shake your head. “not really. i mean i didn’t work closely with macy, and i never noticed anything off about lex.”

“and the building? any strange cold spots or flickering lights?”

you find the question sort of odd coming from an fbi agent, but you instintually feel like you should take it seriously. “um, yeah, actually. it was really cold by the bathrooms last night when i left. at first i thought the ac finally got fixed, but it was still sort of warm over here. in this area”

“okay. thank you for your help,” he smiles at you again and for a reason you can’t quite place, you don’t want the unusual conversation to end. you have to hide a hint of delight from your expression when he hands you his card. “call me if you think of anything else.” you accept the card with a nod. he looks like he’s about to walk away, but he pauses. “and, uh– be careful. you should go home early tonight.”

“oh. okay, i will.” without knowing why, you trust him. you want to see him again.

⟢⟢⟢

saturday night is the second busiest night at the bar, but you’re glad it’s not as crowded fridays normally are. you walk straight to the bar to order your go-to drink. as you wait for the bartender to make it, you stare at yourself in the mirror behind the counter out of the corner of your eye. today, there’s two little forget-me-nots right on your left cheek. they look sort of cute there, and you guess you should be grateful that it’s such a small wound. there’s no other flowers on your body yet, which feels like a good run for your soulmate. that’s a little over a whole week in between different injuries, even small ones.

the bartender slides you your drink and you thank them. there’s a small red carnation on their thumb, and you wonder if they’ve met their own soulmate yet. you suppose that at the end of the day, you’re scared of what just about everyone else is. without trying, you worry about not meeting your soulmate until you’re old and left without much time together. you want to meet them, and you think the sooner the better. the idea’s been particularly stuck in your mind since last night.

agent greenaway’s words echo in your head. “be careful. you should go home early tonight.” he seemed so sweet, so genuine and caring, and all you’ve been able to think about since then is meeting someone like him. finding someone kind with a little red mark on their cheek and a forget-me-not on their right pointer finger to match the papercut you got earlier this afternoon.

and simply, you’ve been feeling a little lonely these days. how nice would it be to have your literal soulmate by your side?

you sip slowly at your drink, and when the cup’s empty, you pay the tab. the bar isn’t quite serving as the distraction you hoped it would. as you head for the door, your gaze snags on a mop of brown hair that wouldn’t be considered familiar for the fact that you’ve only seen it once, but feels that way regardless. quickly, you scan the rest of the bar, and sure enough you catch sight of agent greenaway’s partner, across the way and very obviously flirting with a pretty brunette.

for a moment you pause, wondering if it would be weird or too out-of-the-blue to approach agent greenaway, but the pull you feel towards him overrides all else, taking your hand and guiding it to throw all caution to the wind.

he’s facing away from you, and with a friendly smile, you slide into the seat across from him.

“hi,” you greet over the noise of music and talking, “d’you mind if i sit here?” it takes him a moment to answer, like he’s lagging a little bit.

“uh– no, no i don’t mind,” he flashes a quick smile back at you, but his gaze and attention are clearly stuck somewhere on your face. for just a split-second, you’re confused by what he could be staring at, but it clicks not a moment later. you don’t know how you missed it: the red mark on his left cheek, so small that your eyes glossed over it when you sat down. eagerly, you drop your gaze to his hands, one casually wrapped around his beer bottle and the other resting on the table. and sure enough, so tiny and pretty against his big hand is a single forget-me-not on his right pointer finger, exactly where you have a bandaid wrapped around your own.

you suck in a sharp breath, eyes caught on the delicate flower and unable to drag themselves away to look back at his face. just like everyone else, you’ve thought about it a million times over, what it would feel like to meet your soulmate, what you would do, how you would act. in this moment, you feel frozen, but you feel right and you feel a million questions and urges rise up in your heart and mind. you desperately want to reach out to him, to touch his hand and the little flower and make sure that they’re both real.

but you absolutely cannot keep your gaze away from his face for long at all and when you meet his eyes, an irresistible smile stretches across your face. you look at him with nothing short of wonderment. he’s just stunning and you can’t believe that he’s supposed to be… well, yours. 

just staring at each other, you feel a little flustered and awkward, unsure what to say to him. then you realize he should probably know your name, and all you know is his last. so you stick your right hand out and tell him your name. he takes your hand with a smile and repeats it back, saying it carefully and savoring the sound and feel of it on his tongue.

when you touch him for the first time, your breath gets caught in your throat and it feels so right that you never want to let go.

“i’m sam,” he says, only letting his hand fall away from yours after a few moments. even then, your fingertips are merely inches apart now.

“sam greenaway,” you echo, easily remembering how he introduced himself yesterday. then you puzzle at his reaction and the way that the name doesn’t feel quite right as you look at him. he cringes slightly, like he’s done something to be guilty of. “or… not?” for a minute, things were starting to add up to you. the way you felt drawn to him yesterday and his job as an fbi agent finally explaining all of his many injuries. you figured he must be in fights often.

“i– i’m sorry, this is so– i mean if we’re really,” he takes a deep breath, trying to reset and figure out how to say things right. “if we’re really, you know, soulmates… well, there’s just a lot– a lot for me to explain. i’m not an fbi agent and my real name is sam winchester. but i swear, there’s a reason for me lying and i promise that i’ll explain it to you if you’re willing to hear it. which i understand if you don’t–”

“i do,” you say in earnest, finally cutting him off. it took you a second because, for a moment, you were too stuck on him saying the word soulmate aloud in reference to the two of you. it felt special and you were only half paying attention to the things he said after because of that. then all you were thinking about was how endearing he seems when he’s flustered and worried. “it’s okay,” you reassure him, “i want to hear it. i– i mean, sure, it’s sort of strange that you lied about, you know, all that, but… i’m not– i’m not gonna just meet my… my soulmate and not give you a chance.” he still looks a little tense, but his shoulders have dropped a bit in relief and there’s the hint of a grateful smile on his features.

“thank you,” he says, glad for your reassurance but still worried about how you might take the rest of the far weirder explanations that he has left to tell you. “can i maybe get you a drink?”

you smile at the offer, but shake your head a bit. “i was actually just heading out when i saw you. would you maybe wanna get out of here? my apartment’s less than a ten minute walk away.” for a moment, you wonder if that’s too much for just having met, but sam visibly relaxes just a little bit more.

“that would be nice,” he smiles. he’s getting ready to stand when he glances across the bar, seemingly remembering about his partner. or not partner. you’re not quite sure. “my brother, dean,” he explains simply when he catches your gaze on the other man. “i should tell him where i’m going.”

“okay,” you nod, filing the new information away in your mind and watching him weave between tables and flirting couples to reach his brother. the exchange is a bit funny to watch. at first dean looks annoyed at being interrupted by sam. then he glances at you with a sly smirk and makes some comment that is probably less than appropriate judging from his expression. and then his face morphs into one of surprise before it’s taken over by a smile. he claps sam on the shoulder and sends him off. you almost miss the look that dean gives you as sam heads back towards you because you’re so focused on the sweet smile that sam’s now wearing. you only catch dean’s look for a second before sam is back at your side. it’s easy to assume dean as the older brother, with his eyes on you being protective, proud, careful, and happy all at once. and they’re close enough that sam told him about you right away.

walking home with sam at your side is both completely strange and familiar all at once. it’s strange for a number of reasons, the main being that you’d never invite any other unknown man to your apartment, especially not one with a cryptic identity and such an imposing build. and yet, you’re not afraid or worried because of how familiar and safe it feels. it feels familiar because it feels right, it feels like exactly what you should be doing.

on the way over, he asks about you a little bit, trying not to overwhelm you with questions or seem overbearing with how eager he is to hear what you have to say. his kindness and carefulness are clear to you, and you love it. you answer happily, despite knowing he’s partially asking to avoid talking about himself until you settle down.

once inside, sam follows you right to the couch in the living room, sitting when you motion towards it and plop down into a chair across from him. he takes in the space, eyes roaming over your furniture, decor, and every little detail. he wants to know about you, just like you do him.

“it’s really nice in here,” he compliments, sounding so sincere that it’s just sweet.

“thank you,” you respond softly, wondering exactly what parts of the room he likes. you let him look around a second or two more before speaking again. “so… can i ask? you know, about it all, i guess? about you?”

he doesn’t say it aloud, but he thinks the way that you ask is so lovely. half of him wants to make up some silly, somewhat believable explanation to spare you the truth, but he knows that would never work out well. not if you choose to stay together in some way or another. already, that’s what he wants. he doesn’t doubt that you’re indeed his soulmate, the one who he’s been sharing wounds and flowers with for as long as he can remember. sam has both yearned for and dreaded this moment. he tries not to be obvious about it or over do it, but he’s sort of a total romantic. he’s had doubts about how this whole idea of soulmates could really be real or make much sense, but those thoughts are eased with each moment he spends with you. he still wants to get to know you before he does anything with you, but the way that he wants to get to know you is something he’s never felt before. it’s undeniably special.

the dread is because he’s known ever since he got back into hunting that he’d never be able to hide the truth of his world from you. he has no idea how he’s going to get to you to believe him or convince you that he’s not completely insane, but he’s going to tell you the truth anyway. even if you do believe him, he wants to give you a choice. you shouldn’t have to get involved with this life in any way at all if you don’t want to. he’d never force you to try things with him if it’s too strange or too scary or hard or anything. and already, he knows that he’ll never stop thinking about you if you do choose to stay away, but he also knows that he’d never try to change your mind or force you to do anything else other than exactly what you want.

“of course you can ask,” he responds, matching the softness of your own voice. “i, um– i’m honestly not quite sure how to say all of this without sounding totally crazy, and i completely understand that, but just– try to bear with me, i guess. and if you need proof, which i also understand, i’ll do my best to get it for you, it’s just– sort of hard.”

honestly, you’re wildly confused as to what the hell he could possibly say that would make him this anxious. it worries you a little bit too. you don’t want him to feel afraid to tell you anything at all. so, you nod at him in encouragement, trying not to seem nervous yourself.

“my brother and i, we– we hunt monsters. real ones. ghosts, vampires, demons, the works. they’re all real. your coworkers who died, they were– they were killed by an angry spirit. we got rid of it last night,” he says those words like they’re a ten ton weight off of his chest, but he’s still got another ten sitting there as he awaits your response. he looks at you so carefully, trying to gauge any sort of reaction.

you raise your eyebrows in surprise, and probably disbelief and a million other things. “angry spirit? like a ghost?” you’re not sure why that’s the first question that slips out, but you suppose it’s an easier one than are you insane? or what the hell are you talking about?

he nods his head carefully, like he’s waiting for you to freak out or call him crazy and tell him to go. “yeah. the ghost, she had died there, near the bathrooms where you felt the cold spot, in the 90s. she was triggered to kill when the man suspected of her murder was granted parole.”

“okay,” you breathe out, sort of nervously. the craziest thing is that you don’t disbelieve him. you’re not convinced by any stretch, but when you look him in the eye and listen close to his voice, there’s nothing but sincerity there. “i mean… that is sort of a kinda crazy thing to say,” you begin, “but i’ve always sort of believed in ghosts, so i don’t think you’re completely, you know, insane.” you laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood a little. you don’t want him to stress, however unbelievable his words are. “the rest is a bit… shaky, i guess. it’s a hard thing to believe, i mean… vampires. and– and demons. it’s a lot. and honestly, i’m not sure how much i’ll really, truly believe until i see, i don’t know, something, i guess,” you admit, “but… but i don’t think you’re lying to me either.”

“thank you for that,” he says, voice as sincere as ever, “and i completely understand. honestly, part of me didn’t want to tell you at all, but… it’s sort of my whole entire life at this point and it wouldn’t be fair to hide from you. or– or to not give you a choice right off the bat of whether or not you wanted to be involved. it’s– it’s a lot and it’s dangerous. and if it’s what you want, i promise i’ll try to find a way to prove it to you, it’s just… hard to do that without putting you in danger. and i really don’t want to put you in danger.”

“that’s sweet, sam,” you say, not really bothering to hide the way you feel. “i’m not, you know, eager to meet any monsters anytime soon, but whenever it’s… the least dangerous, i guess, you can show me. until then… i’ll just trust you. and in the meantime maybe we can sort of just get to know each other?” you suggest, surprising yourself with how ready you are to trust him on this.

sam smiles at you sweetly. “that sounds perfect to me. i just– i don’t want to force you into something you don’t want for yourself. i live out of crappy motels and my brother’s car while hunting monsters that shouldn’t be real. i’m just… i’m sorry i’m not someone easier.”

you smile at him sort of sadly. “that’s not your fault, sam. i never asked for someone ‘easy’ anyway. just someone kind and respectful and you seem to be just that so far. besides, there’s gotta be a reason, right? that… we’re soulmates. honestly, if you were anyone else i wouldn’t trust you like this. an–and it’s not like i’m trusting you blindly because of something that we’re supposed to be. we just met. i’m only trusting you because it feels right to. and this whole soulmate thing never made too much sense to me until i met you. now it sort of does, because this feels right so far. at least, it does to me.”

“it feels right to me too,” he quickly assures, not wanting for you to misunderstand that for a second.

⟢⟢⟢

as two people who aren’t quite ready to jump into such a committed relationship with completely different lives, it’s a little bit strange to be soulmates. and yet, nothing about it is anything but honey-sweet to you. the night you met as soulmates for the first time, you ended up talking for hours. all you had to do was sort of ignore the huge and slightly unbelievable bomb he dropped on you within the first hour of talking. oddly enough, that was sort of easy. you learned that sam’s appetite for knowledge is just about insatiable, including when it comes to knowing about you.

he had words rolling off of your tongue, asking the best, most interesting questions and providing such sincere and in-depth responses. that night, he was just lovely, and that’s pretty much all he’s been since. he’s this adorable mix of confident and shy, awkward and knowing just the right thing to say. and he’s incredibly smart, an almost stanford pre-law graduate who was headed for bigger things before he was pulled back into hunting a little over two years ago. this explains the difference in all his injuries from the past two years versus the three beforehand. secretly, you mourn for the life that he, and subsequently you, might have had, but only because he gets a little wistful every time he talks about stanford.

mostly, you talk on the phone, only stopping late in the night when one of you catches the other yawning. he seems to sleep so little, yet he lives such a tiring life. you almost always seem to be the one who gets too tired first. one night, you fell asleep to his voice, and since then, you feel like it’s the single best way to drift into dreams.

sam tries to avoid the topic of the supernatural, but you ask him about it anyway. as you get used to the idea of monsters being real, you find yourself wanting to understand it all better. you want to understand him better. and you don’t want him to feel like he has to hide the biggest parts of his life from you or for him to have trouble fitting you into his world.

he always answers your questions, omitting any extreme gore or death, but it doesn’t take long for you to realize how many people he really saves. that’s his life; saving people.

it takes three weeks for you to see him again since the first night, and three more plus a whole lot of convincing on your end for him to bring you on a hunt with him. he tries to hide it, but he’s so worried for you, despite all the reassurances he’s made that this particular ghost isn’t really all that violent or dangerous. by now, you’ve already come to mostly believe all that he’s told you, but to see it in real life is still the final confirmation that you need to be fully convinced.

sam keeps you by his side the whole time, one hand on you every moment that he can afford it. the second the ghost appears, he blasts it with a salt round from his shotgun, and he thinks he could cry when you flinch at the loud noise. yet, he feels comforted that you don’t seem all too scared. and strangely, you really aren’t. sam easily makes you feel safe. luckily, the next time the ghost appears, it bursts into flames moments later thanks to dean burning the bones.

the moment it’s gone, sam drops the gun to the ground and turns to you, accidentally ruining the now unnecessary salt line around you in his rush to check on you.

“are you okay?” he asks gently, a hand on your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek as he looks you up and down.

“i’m alright, sam,” you reassure. it’s true that you’re a little shaky, and just the tiniest bit scared, but to have your confirmation and sam by your side is much more important to you.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes anyway, pulling you into a hug that’s more for his peace of mind than yours. of course, you don’t complain, easily finding his arms to be your new favorite place in the world.

oddly enough, taking it almost slow works well. he kisses you the next time he sees you, a week and a half later, and you’ve never wanted anything more than to have him keep kissing you, over and over again. he just feels like yours and you feel like his and you’ve barely known him for long, but when he kisses you it’s like there’s stars hung from the ceiling and flowers made from nothing but love and healing growing all over you. when he kisses you it’s sunlight and moonglow bottled up and mixed with sweet, pure maple syrup. his lips on yours feel like lucky four leaf clovers, like it’s possible to taste heaven on someone else’s tongue.

and though it mostly works for him to just visit as often as he can, which sometimes isn’t often at all, and to call him at every moment you can, the yearning only grows. you swear that you’re addicted to his lips, to his big hands cupping your jaw all gentle and sweet or his bulky arms boxing you in as he kisses you so hard that you melt right into the sheets.

and some nights, though he tries to hide it, you can hear him struggling with what seems to be the weight of the world on his shoulders. his job is anything but easy or fruitful. before, you thought that you might worry less when you found out exactly why your soulmate was getting injured so often, but now every time new blooms appear on your skin, you spend all day fretting until you can get him on the phone to make sure he’s alright.

you suppose he gets just as worried as you, despite the fact that you’re never in nearly as much danger as he is. a week ago, a jagged edge on a metal wire fence snagged at your skin, drawing a very shallow, but long line of blood down your forearm. seconds later, you had a frantic sam on the phone, so worried about all the little blue flowers on his arm. 

it’s not as hard as he thinks for you to tell how much fear and worry he lives in. you know that he doesn’t tell you the half of it sometimes, even when you ask. all you want is to have him a little closer, to be there for him and provide the sort of comfort that you’re sure he’s never really had before. and though he’s told you that having you to talk to, so receptive and encouraging for him, has been a complete blessing, you still wish for more. you want his arms enveloping you and his lips on yours and his warm body in your bed. really, you just miss him. all the time.

⟢⟢⟢

tonight is one of the glorious nights that you get to have him with you. his broad frame takes up so much space in your bed, and you love it more than just about anything. he props himself up on one elbow and you mirror his pose as you let your eyes roam over each other’s features and take turns rambling about every little thing from this past week. unable to resist, sam kisses you often. he just leans over, swiftly closing the small space between you and pressing his lips to yours. he looks so beautiful like this; at peace, his shirtless body and protective tattoo framed all prettily by clean white sheets.

eventually, comforting words turn into a comforting silence, and you drop your head to your pillow. your eyes droop a little as you play with the idea letting a few more words slip from your tongue. you want to say something to him, but you can’t tell if it’s the right time.

sam settles on his pillow, just like you. “what is it?” he whispers, inviting and respectful. his voice tells you that you’re welcome to say whatever you’re thinking about, but that it’s okay if you don’t want to quite yet.

you smile a little at how well he’s able to read you. since he asked so sweetly, you say it. “i can’t be away from you, sam. i love you, i really do.” this isn’t the first time you’ve said the three special words to each other, but his eyes grow infinitely softer than they were before each time you do.

this time, his eyes do soften, but he cringes a little too, because he feels sorry and because he feels the same exact way. “i can’t make you live like i do. i love you, too, so much. and i hate being away from you, but this? this life, it– it’s sort of awful, and it’s dangerous and hard and–”

you swiftly cut him off with a kiss that he more than willingly melts into. “i know,” you whisper against his lips, barely moving from him to speak. “but– but what if we tried something else? you still go on your hunts and all that, but you and dean can stay here in between. there’s this cabin in the woods i’ve been eyeing, it’s sort of small but it’s isolated and we could ward it. i’ve been looking into protection and warding spells, and i think we could make it work… only, you know, if you wa–”

this time he’s the one to cut you off with a kiss, passionate and sweet all at once. when your lips part, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours like he can’t bear to be any further from you.

“i want to,” he says, voice so sure and sturdy. “i really want to… but how’re we gonna get the house? it’s not like me or dean can buy property, and i can’t make you–”

“i want to,” you echo his words, just as sincerely. “please, sam, let me do this. i’ve been saving money for a long time and it’s a little run down so it’s not too expensive. and i’m getting sick of this apartment.”

“you’re gonna live there?” he asks, not bothering to hide his hope and sparkling joy at that idea.

you grin. “of course. there’s three bedrooms and it’s so pretty and i can’t, you know, pay for that and the apartment at the same time. and i– i wanna be there every time you get home.”

that word gets to him. sam doesn’t really have a solid or normal concept of home—the closest thing he has is the impala. but it sounds so right when it comes out of your mouth. “and– and you’re okay with that?” he asks, still needing to be reassured, “you said it was isolated, and–”

“i’m sure, sam,” you emphasize, “it’s only 20 minutes from town and the roads to and from are never busy. i’ve always wanted to live in the woods, i swear. and if it meant i could be with you more, i’d never ever say no to this. please… can we talk to dean about it?”

“yes,” he gushes. “yes, of course, i– you’re amazing.” he seals the deal with a firm, giddy kiss. “and if dean says he doesn’t like the idea, i don’t care. i’m gonna do this with you.” another kiss and your heart softens infinitely. “besides, he loves the pie from the bakery on morrison street, which means he can’t say no.” he gives you another kiss and pulls away again, and you know that he’s bound to keep rambling if you let him, so you wrap an arm around his neck and thread your fingers through his soft, pretty hair. then you kiss him hard until he can’t breathe. he returns the favor by tenfold, whispering through labored breath how much he loves you and wants you and thinks that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

[justmediocrewriting]

Hi!! I don't know if your requests are open still, but could you do a luffy x reader fiction where she feels insecure sometimes at the fact that luffy didn't ask her to join the crew. The reader asked first out of desperation or excitement, and now sometimes wonders if she would have even been on the crew if she didn't approach first. And of course Luffy comforts her and makes her feel more secure about it.

Thank you!! 🦭

“Why wouldn’t I?” {m.d.l}

Summary: you’d never been one to second guess yourself — and you remained happy with your decision to ask the captain of the Straw Hats to take you on their seafaring journey — but in the last few days, you’d begun to feel more and more unsure of the decisions you’d made up until this point; namely because of the knowledge that Luffy had asked every other member of the crew to join, except you.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Luffy x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested: ✅

Warnings: brief depictions of insecurity

A/n: thank you so much for your request nonnie! My requests are always open; though getting them out in a timely matter is another thing entirely. You know, when I’d first started this blog, I expected all of my works to be about Sanji, but I’ve been writing for Luffy more and more — and to be honest, I kinda really like it 🤭

{=================================}

The atmosphere in the galley was calm; Sanji had retired for the night, but was confident enough to leave Luffy under your supervision within the room, and you in turn had offered to wash the rest of the dishes for him — the man was clearly exhausted, and if you could take some weight off of him, you were more than happy to.

Luffy was currently devouring some extra lamb legs that Sanji had generously told him he could eat, and the silence in the room was companionable — but the confines of your mind were not. Despite the calmness, your brain was a whirlwind of negative and impulsive thoughts.

It had been roughly three weeks since you’d asked to join the Strawhats, and truthfully, you wondered just how wanted you were.

Your askance was brought upon by sheer excitement; your humble little village never saw much action, seeing as it was tucked away on an island that was small enough to be a pebble. It was both a good and a bad thing — your village was never raided by terrible pirates, but it was definitely a bore, and the quaint little bakery you owned offered services to the same exact faces every day.

That was until they arrived; the infamous Strawhats and their captain. You’d recognized them the minute they’d walked in. Luffy was the easiest to recognize, as you’d seen his face plastered in the news before, bearing an ungodly bounty of thirty million berry. To say you were nervous in his presence was an understatement; given what had been told of the pirate, of his crew and their atrocious actions, you weren’t sure what he’d do, or what his intentions were. You were on the defensive immediately, one hand dropping below the counter to wrap around the barrel of the shotgun in case you needed to draw it.

But Luffy had simply approached the counter and gazed excitedly at the array of sweets displayed behind the glass container; and when he met your eyes with a wide smile and asked for one of every pastry, you felt your heart melt — the rubbery man was just too adorable for his own good, and despite the rumors that had been spread across the seas of his viciousness, you couldn’t help but relax in his presence, his exuberant and innocent aura immediately washing away every bad thing you’d heard about him.

Hundreds of pastries later and many tells of their adventures on the sea, you had come to a conclusion; you would ask to join his crew, to sail the seas with him, and find the legendary treasure, One Piece.

You weren’t sure why, but all of his tales and his excitement bled into you, and your heart began beating rapidly as you were overcome by the urge to experience exactly what he had — you wanted to feel that freedom, that excitement of adventure. At first when you asked, you weren’t sure if he’d even say yes; after all, you were just a small time baker barely scraping by on poor rations, and you had no experience at sea or on a boat whatsoever, and upon first look you didn’t exactly scream pirate.

But then again, neither did a good number of the crew.

You’d set sail with them just the next morning, without so much as bidding goodbye to any of the other villagers — there were plenty of other bakeries within the village, if you weren’t there to sell bread and pastries the inhabitants could get them elsewhere easily. You didn’t feel an ounce of guilt about leaving your village behind, though as time went on, you began to feel guilty about asking to join; not because you regretted your decision, but because you couldn’t help but feel as though you had burdened the crew somehow.

With no real skills to offer, you’d resorted to helping out in any way you could; scrubbing the deck, washing the dishes, helping Sanji with prep, doing laundry, fishing, recording stock, and every other odd job you could fit into your schedule. It had helped to alleviate some of your negativity, but when you’d learned the stories of how Nami, Zoro, Usopp and Sanji joined the crew, it all just flooded back into you — because obviously Luffy had seen something within them that made them worthy to be on his crew, so much so that he practically begged them to join.

So why were you on the crew?

You paused in your rinsing and cast a weary glance at your captain, who was completely oblivious to your inner agony, still digging into the lamb legs like a man starved. Your heart cinched within your chest, and you felt tears stinging at your eyes. Did Luffy even really want you here? Or did he just agree to bring you along because he felt sorry for you? You’d never had a good filter on your mouth, so that inward thought quickly became an outward question.

“Luffy, do you even want me here?” You wanted your voice to sound strong, to convey nonchalance or maybe even anger, but it came out muted and weak — all the insecurity and desperation that you tried so hard to keep shoved down bubbled up to saturate each and every word.

Luffy paused his chewing for only a moment, his brows furrowed ever so slightly, then, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “of course I do, (Y/N). Why wouldn’t I?”

You wanted to laugh, because his answer was just so Luffy, but you held in the sound because you just knew that it would come out choked and wet — the last thing you wanted was for Luffy to see the evidence of just how weak you are. If he didn’t want you to join in the first place, as you were sure was already the case even if his words opposed it, you knew that seeing you in such a state would only make his conviction grow.

You were silent for a long moment, the only noise being the backdrop of waves splashing against the hull of the Merry and the slightly wet smacks of Luffy’s chewing. Biting your lip, you briefly wondered if you should be honest with Luffy; that would be for the best, wouldn’t it? What was it that they say? Rip the bandaid off? With a heavy sigh you parted your lips to speak, but Luffy swallowed his bite loudly and cut you off.

“I mean, you’re a great baker. And you’re kind, compassionate, and you really care for everyone on the crew. You’re always asking if we’re okay, if we need anything, and any time one of us is feeling down, you always do your best to pick us up. You’re thoughtful, too; if you see something you think one of will like or if it reminds you of us, you get it for us. Like that time that you bought me that stuffed monkey from that town, because you said it reminded you of me.”

You were speechless — you weren’t even aware that Luffy had noticed that about you, and the more his words registered, the more your skin heated until you felt as if it would burst into flames. Luffy didn’t seem to have the same issue; he just continued to bite into the lamb leg as if what he’d just said didn’t just discombobulate you at the seams.

After fumbling for a few seconds you finally found your ability to speak. “I-it’s just… you didn’t ask me to join, like you did with everyone else.”

“Because you asked first,” Luffy said without missing a beat, the sunniest of smiles painted on his face, making your heart thump crazily within your chest as it tightened.

Warm smile still plastered on his face, Luffy placed his half eaten lamb leg on the plate with the rest (and some nearly clean bones) and slipped from the stool. Your heart sped up with each step Luffy took towards you, and by the time he was standing in front of you, you felt as if the organ would beat right out of your chest.

“I was going to ask you either way, (Y/N). I knew I wanted you on my crew from the moment I talked to you.”

Luffy’s hand reached out and gently plucked the plate from your grasp, dropping it into the soapy water with a soft thud that made you wince in sympathy for the fine ware. When your hand was empty, Luffy grabbed it in his own, and you swore your heart completely stopped in that instance. You wet your lips and glanced up at him shyly.

“Why? Why did you want me to join?” Your voice was soft, bashful, his words and close proximity making it nearly impossible to think — but his smile was so bright that it easily cut through the fog in your mind.

“Because I really like you! I want to eat your delicious pastries every day. And I want to sail the Grand Line with you, and find the One Piece together.”

You stared at Luffy with wide eyes, cheeks heating rapidly as you processed his words.

“L-Luffy, do you mean y-you—”

“Yes, I like you a lot, (Y/N).” Luffy cut you off, his hand squeezing yours tighter. “And I want you by my side. I’m sorry you ever thought differently. I promise you’ll never feel that way again.”

With those words Luffy pulled you into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around you and pressing you flush against his lean body. Luffy was so warm, so open, so genuine, that you were helpless to do much else other than melt into his embrace.

You didn’t think you could love being on the sea more than you did, but Luffy just made it ten times better, and any and all regret you’d had previously was washed away like a stream to the sea.

[elllisaaa]

ONE OF THE GIRLS - G. GUNIL

KINKTOBER DAY 1 - BIG DICK + SMOKING

SUMMARY : you were a groupie, and you weren't afraid of admitting it. and you didn't mind that you probably were just one of the girls, that gunil had surely fucked hundreds of fans at this same exact spot. because it felt good, and you didn't want him to stop.

-> pairing : rockstar!gunil x fem!reader

-> words count : 1.6k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : dom!gunil x sub!reader, hair pulling, smoking, flirting, teasing, semi-public sex, oral (m. receiving), use of 'slut', dirty talk, degradation, gunil has a massive dick, deepthroating, cum eating, face fucking, a zest of angst towards the end

+ the way i'm depicting gunil does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | xdh masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- Hurry up Y/N, or my friend won’t be able to make us cut the line !

- Coming, coming !”

You were just finding your favorite lip gloss as your best friend yelled at you that she was going to leave without you. You hurried down the stairs, trying to not trip on your feet because of the big platforms and heels of your boots. But since she had the chance to get VIP tickets for your favorite rock band, you obviously had to dress up, had to put on these fishnets, this corset, all those accessories that were clicking with your every step and that cute miniskirt. 

The band was starting to get some recognition in the area, getting invited to quite big festivals and able to have concerts in small venues, but they were still underrated enough for you to have a chance to meet them at the end of the show. It was honestly your number two reason for why you wanted to go so bad, why you begged your best friend to get you these tickets. The first reason was obviously that you loved their music so much, but the second was much more carnal. 

Since the first time you saw them performing at a bar, your eyes were caught by the drummer. You always had a thing for men who played an instrument, and the way you could see his muscles flexing while he played, head banging along to the song, sometimes hearing his deep voice singing some words here and there - you quite fell in love on the spot. More likely, your panties got wet, you had to be honest. Plus, he had quite a reputation ; Gunil was known for taking full advantage of his rockstar status to fuck a different girl every night, and let them go just as soon. However, you knew you weren’t in for the long run with him, knew it was only for one night, but others rumors made the thought less hurtful. Every one of the girls he ever slept with were keen on the fact that the drummer had the biggest dick they had ever seen. And that made you curious, you wanted to find out for yourself. 

So you were satisfied with the spot you got : pressed against the front barrier, just below the stage, where you could see them the best. And once the show actually started, you almost forgot about your mission, hypnotized by the music, just excited to be there and to be able to hear your favorite songs live. But even if your eyes went to every member of the band, even if Junhan was insanely skilled, even if Jooyeon’s voice was heavenly, you always came back to Gunil and his bulging biceps, to Gunil and his intense stare that caught yours at one point. It was like all the air was knocked out of your lungs at that moment, as if time stopped. And when he saw the way you were looking at him - probably a mix of amazement and of desperation - a smirk widened on his lips and you almost passed out on the spot. You bit on your lips every time Gunil gulped down some water between songs, wondering what his lips would feel like on yours, on your body. So when the drummer looked at you again later on, you knew you had to make it happen, you knew that you had him right where you wanted him. 

“- You got a lighter ?”

Gunil’s deep voice didn’t even straddle you - you were waiting for him, actually, leaning against the wall, the wind making you shiver but mostly, it was having his gaze on you that made goosebumps come alive on your skin.

“- Yeah, of course.”

You rummaged through your bag and handed him your pink lighter. The drummer chuckled, but he still took it. You tried to not stare at him too much, focusing on your own cigarette while your heart was racing.

“- So, you liked the show ?”

Every time he talked, your panties got wetter, his deep, raspy tone turning you on really bad. You gathered all the courage you had to look him in the eyes, suddenly a little more anxious now that there were no drums, and no music between the two of you. 

“- It was pretty good, yeah. 

- Pretty good, uh ? You were eye-fucking me for the whole concert, I think it’s worth a little more than just that.”

Your cheeks heated up, not prepared for him to be so straightforward but at the same time, he was not lying. You tried to remain unbothered, expiring the toxic air before locking eyes with Gunil again. 

“- Is it a crime ? Not my fault you’re sexy.”

If he was going to play it like that, so were you. And Gunil seemed to like it as he got closer to you, backing you up completely against the wall of the dark alley you were smoking in. He took a hold of your chin between two of his fingers while he blew out the smoke against your face with a smirk that was too attractive for your own good.

“- Is that so ?”

He was whispering against your lips and you could feel how hot his body was, his smell a mix of sweat and tobacco. But you didn’t mind it as Gunil leaned in to kiss you, his mouth demanding and rough. In the blink of an eye, he had you melting against him, not even trying to fight him for dominance. His tongue was dancing with yours sensually, all the pent up excitement from the concert coursing through your veins as you felt his boner pressing against your thigh, making you gasp because the rumors were apparently true. 

“- What’s going on darling ? Surprised ?”

You shook your head as you let yourself slide down on your knees between his legs, and the view from down there was even better. Gunil smirked at you while taking another drag of his cigarette, running one of his big hands through your hair as your own were busy unbuckling his belt. 

“- No, that’s exactly what I wanted. 

- Then get to work.”

And you did, pulling his cock out of his boxer, and you had to admit you were really impressed by his size. You had prepared yourself for him to be big, yes, but not this big. You weren’t even sure you were going to be able to take him whole in your mouth, but you were never one to back up from a challenge. So you looked up at Gunil as you spat on his cock, spreading your saliva along his shaft as you kitten-licked at his tip. 

“- Such a good girl.”

His hoarse voice made you hum against him as you took him further into your mouth, stopping to breathe through your nose and try to relax for what was coming - you were only halfway through and your jaw was already hurting from how big he was. Gunil stayed silent, fingers brushing against your puffed out cheek with a proud smile, and it was enough to encourage you to continue. You took him down your throat slowly, until you had him whole into your mouth, until tears were prickling at the corner of your eyes, trying to stop yourself from gagging around him.

“- Fuck… Your little throat is so tight darling…”

His breath was short, and you were glad to have such an effect on him, starting to bob your head as his fingers tightened around the strands of your hair he had taken a hold of. You tried to keep a slow and deep pace, twisting your tongue around his dick in hopes it would compensate for you not being able to go faster. And Gunil appreciated your efforts, but he needed more. He let his cigarette fall to the floor, pushing on the back of your hair to bury his whole length down your throat, groaning at the way you gagged around him, your hand grabbing at the material of his pants aimlessly. 

“- You’re such a slut, uh ? You came to our concert just for this, right ?”

You whined helplessly around him, and Gunil threw his head back as you hollowed your cheeks despite your cheeks being covered in tears, your mascara leaving black, messy trails on your skin that excited him even more.  He didn’t care about the way he was harshly pulling on your hair, about the way he was roughly fucking your mouth, about the way drool was spilling from the corner of your lips, he was too close to his release to care anymore, his adrenaline from the concert bringing him to the edge quickly. 

“- I’m gonna cum in your pretty mouth.”

You whined again, looking up at him with your big doe eyes, and Gunil couldn’t hold back his groan of pleasure as he kept the eye-contact while he shot his load down your throat, enjoying the way you tried your best to not lose any drop of his cum. You inhaled sharply as he pulled away, coughing a few times as you focused on breathing normally again. 

“- You’re free next weekend ?”

You looked over at him curiously as you wiped off your black tears and reapplied your lipgloss, but hope was making your heart beat pick up again. 

“- Yeah, why ?

- We’re having another concert. If you come, maybe I’ll pick you again.”

The reminder that you were probably the hundredth girl to blow him right there made the taste of victory bitter. But you still nodded at him as he got back to his dressing room, not even sparing you a last glance before the door closed again behind him. And you knew that even if he probably said that to every one of his girls, you knew you would be there next weekend, you knew you would wear an even skimpier outfit to try and entice him to give you more. You knew it was a bad idea, but you were going to yes every time. 

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations.

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[a-d-nox]

Hello💞 could you please make a post about placements that indicate experiences with paranormal stuff? Or transits that indicate this happening? (For ref i got 12h in sag and ruler of 12th ,Jupiter, is exactly trining Neptune + Neptune is exactly sextiling my nn+ i have a pisces moon+ 8th h stellium)

mediums and magnets for the paranormal in astrology

i'm going to work off of what i already have posted (no asteroids discussed after this post will be included or added after the fact). i would like to also state that NO TWO CHARTS ARE THE SAME. what i am about to list out does not mean you will for sure need these exact things (or all of these things) to be have experienced a paranormal phenomena (it could have to do with transits or even the synastry between you and the spirit for all we know). if you don't understand my thought process feel free to comment with questions!

scorpio (8°, 20°) sun or rising: scorpio is associated with the occult, mysteries, and transformation. individuals with strong scorpio placements like these where it is core to how they are energetically seen in the world may be more drawn to or attracted experiences with paranormal phenomenas.

scorpio (8°, 20°) anubis (1912), 8h anubis (1912), and/or anubis (1912) aspecting pluto: god of mummification and the afterlife, he does not communicate directly with spirits, but oversees the process of death and ensures that the dead are properly prepared for their journey into the next world. he acts as a bridge between the living and the dead, playing a crucial role in the transition of souls.

scorpio (8°, 20°) hermes (69230) and/or hermes (69230) aspecting mercury: he was responsible for guiding souls to the underworld. he acts as a messenger between the gods and mortals, crossing the boundary between worlds with ease. hermes served as a divine medium, facilitating communication between the living, the dead, and the divine.

scorpio (8°, 20°) hekate (100), 8h or 12h hekate (100), and/or hekate (100) aspecting pluto: often associated with the spirit world and mediumship. she is believed to have the ability to communicate with spirits and guide souls between the realms of the living and the dead.

scorpio (8°, 20°), capricorn (10°, 22°), or pisces (12°, 24°) orpheus (3361), 8h orpheus (3361), and/or orpheus (3361) aspecting mercury and/or pluto: he descended into the underworld to retrieve his wife after her death. orpheus crosses the boundary between life and death to communicate with the spirits of the dead.

capricorn (10°, 22°) personal placements: its like they are magnets for spirits; i feel like it has to do with their relation to saturn - sometimes the boundaries between this realm and another is thinner for them and/or their energy just attracts spirits in need.

pisces (12°, 24°) moon or rising: pisces is highly sensitive and spiritually attuned, so having personal placements like the moon or ascendant in pisces can indicate being viewed as receptive to otherworldly experiences.

pisces (12°, 24°) pythia (432) and/or pythia (432) aspecting mercury and/or neptune: gifted with divine communication. pythia was one of the most famous examples of mediumship in mythology.

moon-pluto aspects: tend to indicate a deep connection to the unconscious, potentially leading to encounters with intense, transformative experiences, including paranormal activity (its like a horror movie placement where you are so shocked that you question having seen anything in the first place).

neptune aspecting the moon and/or mercury: these people can have enhance psychic abilities and can communicate with the spirit realm.

neptune dominance: this planet rules dreams, illusions, and, the star of this show, spirituality.

strong neptune placements like 1h/8h/12h or aspects made to neptune, especially to the moon, could enhance intuition and psychic experiences.

1h, 4h, 8h, or 12h pluto: this is a planet linked to the underworld, death, and rebirth, and is often associated with transformative or supernatural experiences. it can suggest personal encounters with the unknown.

7h pisces (12°, 24°): these people tend to walk hand in hand with spirit. they can be strong mediums.

8h/12h placements: 8h governs death, transformation, and the occult. 12h is the house that rules the unseen, the subconscious, and hidden aspects of life.

especially placements like the moon, neptune, and/or pluto, can indicate a connection to the paranormal or spiritual realms and often suggest a natural inclination towards paranormal experiences.

8h or 12h uranus: uranus is linked to sudden insights and unconventional experiences. in these houses, which are tied to death, the unconscious, and the mystical having a psychic encounter is likely.

8h or 12h neptune: these people are generally more attuned to the spirit world.

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[doberbutts]

hello jaz, i'd like your opinion on something. i'm seeing a lot of dog trainers online go on about the benefits of crating in regards to making sure dogs are getting enough sleep and to always crate them when asleep. the numbers i see thrown around are 12-14 but more commonly 16-18. i have certainly seen a lot of improvement when i make sure my adolescent is getting enough sleep, but she is not crate trained (its really rare where im from) a lot of the advice on making sure the dog is settling is to isolate the dog, cover the crate in a different room and avoid coming anywhere near it, basically pretend they dont exist. im finding it really hard to justify locking up a social animal for 16-18 hours a day without any interraction. i specifically got a dog after years of having a cat (he was really sweet and loved companionship but it didnt hit the same spot as having a dog), as i like how engaged they are with you and seek interraction, it just feels unfair. am i antropomorphizing? is it not that big of a deal if they're properly enriched and excercised? what are your thoughts on this as a dog trainer and someone who had a dog with medical issues related to excessive crating?

Oh oh oh oh I had a very long conversation with a few good friends who are dog trainers about this one.

Now before I start, I do have to say that I do support crate training and in fact have crate trained the majority of my dogs, with Fenris being the sole exception and even he is, hmm, half crate trained at this point and we're working on the rest.

First of all 18 hours is an astronomical number, personally I think 12 hours is excessive. Life shoved in a small box for literally half the day is sort of miserable. I now work 10 hour shifts with an hour commute and so my dogs *are* left home for 12 hours at a time- however I have made a lot of changes to the way I contain them to prevent this exact scenario. Sushi is loose, the chihuahuas are crated together in something that is roughly the size of a typical x-pen or they're left loose in my bathroom (where it is easier to clean up Tater's incontinence), and Fenris is also sectioned off in my foyer again a space the size of a typical x-pen. Sometimes I leave Sushi in there with him because he seems comforted by her presence and ability to play with him if he's bored, other times she seems kind of done managing his energy on her own so I give her the run of the house to give her a bit of a break.

And, I will say, based on the camera I have looking in at them, the dogs mostly sleep the whole day. The last two days most of the peeks in during a motion alert have revealed someone getting up for a drink of water and then plopping back down on their bed. Or getting a toy or chew to bring back to their bed. Or getting up to stretch and laying back down. So, while I feel bad that I leave them alone for that long, it's also not like they're doing much in my absence.

However to me it is less about the crate and more about the ability to perform natural behaviors. As said, the dogs get up and have a drink of water, stretch, maybe wrestle if they're sectioned off two-by-two, or grab a toy or chew (or blanket to suck in the case of Fenwen), which are all things they could do in a large enough crate. It is also why, once my dogs are house trained, I keep them in crates far bigger than recommended so they can have a bit more space to move around. This is, of course, easier with the chihuahuas who weigh a combined 8lbs than with the 100lb mountain dog. Or they can be loose if they're nondestructive and won't soil my floors.

However I also think that it becomes really difficult when we talk about how dogs are social creatures. Like it or not, by leaving them alone for 8+ hours every day, we are dooming single dog households to a lifetime of solitary confinement. Whether the dogs are in a crate or not, we are leaving a social creature alone for the majority of our waking hours. So I think it is important, if you don't have multiple dogs or rotating work schedules with all the humans in the house, to make sure and fill the gaps as much as possible. I think if you are home your dog should be out of confinement and also hanging out with you. I think you should deliberately try to interact with your dog while you are home, whether that's just petting as you do something else or taking them for a walk or whatever.

I mentioned that Fenris is not fully crate trained despite being nearly a year and a half. This is because he can open just about anything that doesn't require thumbs, including crate doors. And he has broken himself out of 3 separate crates, and broke 2 teeth in the process the last time he broke out. I have been slowly re-introducing the crate ever since, and now he is calm and quiet in a jumbo sized Great Dane crate (read: two sizes up from what is recommended for him) with a bed, a sucky blanket, a toy, a chew, and his EDM music box for about 4ish hours at a time. This is a big win for us because he used to not even tolerate a few minutes despite me following all of the same rules and advice I have followed for all of my other successfully crate trained dogs.

I noticed fairly early on that he is happiest when contained in a larger area with a friend. So my foyer and Sushi became the sacrifice until I either can convince him to tolerate longer than half days or can trust him left loose in my house. He did figure out how to open the gate a few weeks ago and promptly murdered my 32 year old snake plant (and destroyed a tupperware container left on my counter, and shredded my mail also from my counter, and pulled a book off my bookshelf to shred, and chewed on my camera but it does still work at least), so clearly he is not trustworthy as of just yet. I have added a locking mechanism that requires thumbs, he fiddled with it the first day I installed it and has left it alone since.

[v4mpgutz]

can u do smth where ethan buys reader a promise ring pls 🥹 ur fics are amazing 💜

Paper Rings, Ethan Landry [ ONESHOT ]

— i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings

non-gf ethan landry x gn reader -> dating

note: THIS REQUEST AHHH i've been waiting to base a fic off of this song for a while i kiss ur head and i'm glad you enjoy my fics !!

warnings ! — none, just a whole lot of tooth-rotting fluff! + reader doesn't have a specified gender but this was written with an afab reader in mind — nothing points to this fact though ! :)

you and ethan hadn't been together for all that long, a year and a half at most. it took him a while to comprehend the depth of his feelings for you and it was really scary for him.

growing up having been pressured to constantly be as good as or better than his older brother really messed with his head. he constantly had doubts that he wouldn't be good enough for you and that you deserved someone better — someone that wasn't him.

over the course of the first few weeks you and ethan had actually been together, there was cute little dates, hand-holding, giggling into little (sometimes awkward) kisses and him trying to get a grasp on his feelings.

majority of the time he couldn't quite put a finger on what emotions he was feeling. sometimes he thought he was angry when he was really just sad, sometimes he thought he was anxious when he was actually excited.

with you, though? he'd never understood an emotion so clearly in his life.

his heart was filled with love for you, that he knew. love so pure and soft and gentle that it felt like almost nothing could tarnish it. you made him understand himself better — you encouraged him when he would beat himself up over bad grades, you loved him; and he loved you too.

that was precisely the reason why he found himself buying you a promise ring. he'd seen you eyeing a specific one each time you shopped together and you'd talked about promise rings to him a few times.

originally, he didn't know how to feel about those because what if it jinxed your relationship? what if you ended up splitting off and going your seperate ways?

however, after a few weeks just spent thinking it over — all up in his head about it; he decided he wanted to get you one. it'd be a surprise, of course.

one night he had your hand next to his, a measuring tape over the width of both of your fingers. he acted like he was simply comparing handsizes, laughing when you pointed out that he was measuring the wrong way.

"oh, you're right, baby," he chuckled but made a mental note of the size of your left ring finger.

the next time you went to the mall together he kissed your cheek gently before pulling his hand away from yours. "i'll be back, angel," he told you, "just need to go to the bathroom."

you nodded and sat on a bench in the food court, mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you waited for him.

he made sure you weren't looking before he snuck off to the jewellery store, wanting to be as quick as possible so you wouldn't get suspicious. as soon as he was being served, he told the employee the exact ring and size.

it was made to be, it seemed, when the older woman told him that was the last of that ring in that size they had in stock.

he smiled brightly and thanked the woman, paying (quite a hefty price) and slipping the little box into his pocket. he'd get a matching one for himself later, he thought.

when you'd both gotten back to your apartment (which pretty much belonged to the both of you now), he'd sat down with you on the sofa. he kissed your hands gently and pulled you into his chest, the two of you sitting there together in silence for a few minutes — just in eachother's company.

he felt his stomach bubbling up with nerves but pushed them back down. nothing was going to ruin this moment. he cleared his throat to which you perked up, pulling away from him to look into his eyes.

"i don't know much about how to do these things without being awkward," he mumbled as his eyes looked anywhere but at you.

"i wanted this to be special and i know that it's been hard... dealing with me and all, but now i know that i can trust you. i really feel like.. like you understand me better than anyone else ever has before and i can confidently say that i love you."

he took a shaky breath, a smile plastering itself onto his face.

"i know we're still young but i truly think i want to spend the rest of my life with you," he went on as your eyes widened in fear somewhat. "th— this isn't a proposal!" he quickly reassured you, to which you calmed.

he pulled the box out of his pocket and presented the ring to you, "not a proposal — but a promise that one day, there will be one."

he watched as your eyes lit up, tears gathering along your waterline as you let out a choked sob with a smile. you hugged him tight and took the ring, holding it tenderly in your hands.

ethan watched as you slipped it onto your left ring finger, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

"thank you so much, eth. it's beautiful, i love you."

the brunette-haired boy looked away, bashful before turning back to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "there's honestly nothing i wouldn't do for you."

you admired the ring before glancing at his own left hand, "where's yours?" you asked with a frown.

he laughed awkwardly and chewed his bottom lip, "didn't have the money to get it but i knew i had to get yours today."

ethan looked up, confused as he saw you get up from the couch and heard the jingle of your keys. "where are you going?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"we're going to get your half of the promise."

your boyfriend simply stared at you, a puzzled look on his face. "i don't have enough money though? i just said that."

you smiled at him, eyes squinted slightly, "i'm buying it. promises are fifty-fifty."

i loved writing this sm omg

[noirflms]

୧ ˚₊ EVERYBODY’S FALLING IN LOVE ( AND I’M FALLING BEHIND ) — itoshi sae

he has never been a lover, but the day he met you, he finally found what love felt like.

itoshi sae has never been a lover, because love has never been his cup of tea. it certainly not his thing to love, or do anything related to this word; he just dislikes it, for it leaves a sour taste in his mind. he has seen people around him fall in love, be so infatuated with the very thought of it, while dopey and lovesick grins stay on their faces.

and in that sense, itoshi sae is not a lover.

love to him is like a sour candy, too sour to contemplate that it might leave your taste buds numb for a while. love to him is fragile, and it is not in him to take care of delicate things, and a thing like that, he might just back out as is. he doesn’t like the way makes you weak, he’d rather be brave and have a harsh front rather than a soft and gentle one.

love is for the weak in his dictionary, it is for people who don’t have any strengths, to him love is just a mere words, a meaningless and a waste of time, to itoshi sae love is just a hindrance, nothing more or nothing less.

but sometimes a change of perspective could bring one to have a different view, and that was what brought itoshi sae to think about the world love again, a new point of view he gathered through a dreamy lens, one that was conjured up by the likes of you, a certain someone that brought him to like the way love felt.

a lot changed the day he met you, quite like a slap to his face ( literally ).

flashing cameras and crowding paparazzis are all he sees, they are quite blinding for sae, but he is used to bright lights and this lifestyle, having been a self made prodigy, he was surrounded by cameras and paparazzis. but he hated having eyes on him, for then he couldn’t have a life out of this captured world.

it’s always an article where he has been shammed or either an article which quite literally ensues rumours of him being a womaniser — having a new girl at his arm every week. it leaves a bitter taste in his mind to even think about such absurdities, so this time he was by himself at the latest football gala, a party for all the new club members to be exact.

sae finds it hard to be in the focus of everyone, men and women alike all like to be around him, but women are more to throw themselves at him, he despises the very fact such women exist. strained and fake smiles are all he shows, jaw clenched as he talks with men with mindset’s so different, five glasses of wine have been emptied by him since the time of arrival.

so soon he finds himself wanting fresh air, a breather from all this chaos, he finds a way out as soon as the lights dim and all focus on the stage in the room. he is silent as a predator is, and as good as an escape artist to make such an escapade but seems like the gods were not in his right, for as soon as he turns the corner, his cheek meets with a hand and it begins to sting.

never in a million years had itoshi sae thought of getting smacked in the entirety of the premiere.

“oh my gosh! i’m so sorry! i thought you were a stalker or something!” it’s a heavy accent he realises but the stinging on his cheek overlooks anything that happens around him. he shakes his head focusing at the voice at hand, but his heart almost leaps out of his chest at the sight before him.

( e.c ) eyes that gleam with worry as it seems to etch itself upon your features, you bite your lip in distress as you take notice of the red mark on his cheek, but his eyes are set on the way you bite your lip and he gulps, heart thumping in his chest. you observe his face that is just looking at you in awe, and as he looks into your eyes he realises you have no clue of who he was.

“i’m so so sorry!” the voice of yours breaks his stupor and the ache upon his cheek returns — it sure was a hard slap. you gulp as you see him fix his jaw, you swallow hard, the way he was suited up to the nines made you figure out that he was much more than just a creep; he looked famous.

your blood runs cold at the thought. your heart racing in your chest, as you await any loud gesture or shout for guards, or anything related to you being thrown out made your head spin.

“it’s alright, i was the one that turned the corner unannounced.” and sae is bamboozled at the words that slip past him, he looks at you, his eyes wide, and he notices your tense demeanour relax. a heavy sigh escaping briefly past your lips as you look up at him with a smile.

“but i-, um, i still apologise for the inconvenience.” you awkwardly chuckle, not cool [name], not cool, a voice rings in your head as you bite your tongue. it is then you make eye contact with him, his eyes are quite unlike any, and to him, yours were better than any. sae likes the way your eyes look like a hazy dream, he likes the way his reflection looks back at him through your eyes.

and in the moment he realised that he liked the way you looked at him, for you saw him for him, and not for the famous persona of his.

and since then, it’s been encounters here and there, finding each other at places you thought you’d never, bumping shoulder in areas one could have never fathomed. it turns from light glances to lingering ones, timid laughter turns into ones filled with nothing but genuine joy, small talks turn into conversation that ring through coffee shops.

then one hangout at his place, turns into a date at a place you like. then one date turns into two, then three, then four and soon they turn into long nights spend at your cost apartment, to ranging from movie nights at his. longing touches turn into never letting go of you, kisses that were once pressed onto his cheeks begin to linger upon his lips.

but itoshi sae was not a lover, so he never named the thing you had with him, but he liked that way you felt in his arms, he liked the way you fit right with him, he liked the taste of your lips on his, he liked the way you were his, yet not for him to keep.

for love was not meant for him, so then why did his heart ache at the thought of seeing you go. the mere thought of you being with another was like a nightmare to him, the very thought of you not being his, was utter torture for the said male.

yet here he was, a coward, he once again was a little boy who was scared to face the world to early, and love was once again becoming the victor and he could not accept defeat. he has watched many flourish within love, yet it wasn’t in him to be able to bear this sweet fruit of entanglement.

“you’re kind of stupid, you know that sae.” and for a moment, oliver aiku sounded right, he sounded to be much more truthful in the heat of the moment than he ever could be, much more better than itoshi sae was what oliver aiku had become in that instance. “certainly you look like a coward to me right now.”

and those were the last words, sae had heard from oliver before he was up on his feet, they ached as he rushed to your house, panting and huffing as he finds the door to your house to be right before him, shaky hands tremble in fear to press the doorbell, heart racing, he liked you, so what was there to fear in that.

as soon as his trembling hands press the bell and the door to your house opens, it takes everything in him to stop him from pressing his lips against yours. you were the only thing matter to him the most, in present and in future, you’ll be the sole thing that he’d like to call his forever and ever.

that fickle day itoshi sae had learnt so much more. he had learnt that love was not for the weak but for people who knew what strengthened them to the core. he learned that love was not bitter or sour, it was just missing from the right person and when you fall in love with the one that you know is true, you’ll know how sweet is the taste of the fruit.

and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t falling behind in any prospect anymore, especially in the case of love, for he had you.

the sole thing the brought him to a purpose he could have never known.

i like a chase, and itoshi sae is a man who certainly hates the idea of love but internally wishes to find just the right one ;)

NOIRFLMS 2023 ! all rights reserved - plagiarism is a crime , do not translate my works without permission. REBLOG MORE PLEASE !

[angelbvnny]

How they show their love

Gn!Reader, sfw

Genshin mens love languages

Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kaveh, Ayato

Tartaglia

He definitely loves gift giving. Have you seen how he treats his siblings? Buying them anything and everything any chance he gets. He's the exact same way with you. Tartaglia adores showering you with gifts. No matter the price he'll buy it without a second thought. Although it can be a little uncomfortable at times, when you think about the amount of mora being spent on you, but you know this is just his way of letting you know he cares <3

His favorite thing to gift you is clothing! He likes picking out outfits for you to wear, insisting on having a little fashion show just for the two of you. He just thinks you're so cute in the clothes he picks out for you :) any time there's an event you both have to attend you can be certain there will be a brand new outfit waiting for you on your bed.

Besides gift giving, he's also big with physical touch. Ajax is quite a control freak, constantly feeling the need to have full control over any situation. This means he needs to be touching you in some way at all times, to tell you (and himself) that you're safe. No matter where you are, he will have his arm wrapped around you or be holding onto your hand.

He's also just a very touchy person! Even before you started dating there was many pats on the back and hands on your shoulder. He just doesn't have boundaries that most people have, and doesn't realize he doesn't have them. You find it very endearing when he grabs hold of you without even realizing.

Wanderer

He has a hard time expressing his feelings for you so acts of service is his favorite. When he isn't doing something to purposefully make your life harder, because let's be honest, his favorite thing in the world is to irritate you, he does what he can to make every other part of it easier. Any time he comes over he'll bring food for you to have dinner with him, always being sure to bring your favorite, even if he doesn't like it.

If you're crammed with work or school and leave your place unattended to become dirty, and he comes over? He'll go on and on about how messy and unorganized you are and how if HE were living with you he'd never let it get like this. Complaining about the state of the room and how miserable it's making him, all while throwing away the trash, putting up clothes, and organizing your things. You notice but choose to keep it to yourself <3

Something as equally important to him is quality time. Scara can get very lonely, very quickly, without you. You don't even need to be talking, in fact he quite enjoys the silence, just being in the presence of his love is enough to keep him at peace. Although he prefers it to just be the two of you, no matter where he's at, it's much more bearable with you around.

He really enjoys taking naps with you, although what you're unaware of, is that it's rare that he actually sleeps. He will close his eyes and wait until your breathing slows and your hold on him loosens, then open his eyes and simply observe you. He loves getting to watch you in such a relaxed state. He will trace the shape of your nose, your mouth, your jaw, with his finger tip, moving your hair to get a better view of your face. He's able to do things he'd never be able to do with you conscious, and able to tease him.

Kaveh

Kaveh is SO clingy so physical touch is a give-in. You're basically his personal teddy bear. Even if he's extremely busy with a project he will insist that you sit on his lap while he works. There have been many late nights that you fall asleep hugging his chest as he continues to work. You being there is the only thing that gets him through the night sometimes.

His excessive cuddling only gets worse when he drinks. As he stumbles through the door, skin flushed on his face, you know it will be a long night. He will coo at you saying how cute you are, squeezing your cheeks, and playing with your hair. You have to be appreciative of his delirious state, unable to notice the way your face heats up at his compliments. Eventually he will conk out on top of you, holding you close.

He also adores words of affirmation. He enjoys telling you just how much he loves you, in great detail. He's always sure to praise you for your efforts, whether big or small. I feel like he would leave sticky notes around your house for you to find like, "You're going to do great today!" Or "Looking beautiful as ever" and it's soooo cheesy but you can't help but love it.

He's always sure to tell others about your accomplishments aswell! His friends and colleagues are probably sick of it by now but he can't help but bring you up in every conversation. Gloating about how amazing you are, because how could he not when he has the best partner in the world??

Ayato

He enjoys acts of service. Ayato is a very observant man. So if he notices that you have even the littlest problem, he will be right on it. He will send as much staff as he deems necessary to aid you. Can he go a little overboard sometimes? Yes. But you can't help but giggle when you make an off handed comment about your back hurting, and the next day you have an appointment with inazuma's best masseuse.

Even if there isn't a problem, he doesn't want his love to have to lift a finger. You've made attempts to help around the estate in various ways but are quickly shut down as he makes a comment about how "that's what Thoma's there for." It's not that he doesn't WANT your help, in fact, the idea of eating your home cooked meals sounds very enticing, it's just that he wants to help lighten the load of things you need to do as much as he can.

Gift giving is another way he shows you that he loves you. Mora isn't an issue with him and he makes that quite clear. Like previously stated, he notices the little things. If you are out in the city and he notices you eyeing a certain tea set, he will 100% buy it. Ayato adores the surprised look on your face when you're presented with the item, you didn't think that he even saw you glimpsing at.

You will always have the newest brand jewelry and clothing. You are his future spouse, which means you are associated with the Kamisato Clan, so of course you have to look your best. That's his reasoning to you of course, really he just loves putting his darling in the highest quality items there is. In his eyes you're an absolute gem, so no amount of mora would ever be too much.

[dullgecko]

Scar hcs

Fabian has just so many because his parents were very insistent on the fact that scars were proof of living and proof of power so while he does get healed when he’s injured in training he does refuse to have them fully heal the scar only to the point where it won’t “cause him any trouble” (beyond the amount of ache he’s used to from scars) (he does not bring this up to other people because he is so afraid they won’t understand so he just lets them heal him fully)

Kristen on the other hand is the exact opposite way to the point where any scar left on her body is seen as a failing as a cleric on her part and she’s just gotten so good at it from being a clumsy child to the point where her body is disturbingly scarless

Adaine has a small collection of scars on her arms from clutching them so hard during panic attacks that her parents would never let her go to a healer for so by the time she meets the Bad Kids they’re mostly too old to be healed fully (they do get more faint but it takes a lot of energy from Kristen)

Gorgug has a bunch of tiny scars from helping his parents out in the workshop growing up whenever he’s bored in class he doodles around them (whenever he comes out from math class his forearms are just like a mass of flowers and sparkles and whatever he could come up with that day and it’s very pretty but he has to wash it off immediately because he had barbarian class the next period and Porter would be pissed)

Fig has a small collection of cigarette burns on her shoulders from her phase in freshman year, she thought because putting them out on herself didn’t really hurt her as much it wasn’t a problem plus it made her mom really worried (she stopped like a week after meeting the Bad Kids and she asked Kristen to “heal them to where they don’t actually hurt but they still look badass”)

Goblins have pretty sensitive skin so Riz’s scars tend to give him a lot more trouble than most people, especially in extreme temperatures Riz takes just so much fantasy ibuprofen during the winter that it’s a little bit concerning for his tiny goblin body (Fabian finds out sometime sophomore year and immediately makes him a little nest in his house for him so that it’s not as bad during cold holiday sleepovers but insists that it’s just blankets he’s not using until after spring break when he’s like yes it’s a nest yes he made it for his best friend so what)

🩰

If you wait too long to get healed scars tend to 'set' because the bodies own healing starts to take over. Horrific injuries in battle heal seamlessly because the cleric is getting to them within minutes of the injury happening so, barring a body part being outright destroyed they're able to be fixed up 100%. The deeper they are and the longer you leave them determine how well they can be repaired after the fact.

Fabian never used to bother getting things healed that weren't going to cause issues later. Shallow cuts would just get left alone to heal on their own, they were no big deal. The scar on his face got left long enough before Kristen healed it that, though the skin is smooth thanks to the amount of effort she expended trying to 'fix' it, its still fairly discoloured compared to the rest of his face. It was deep enough that if she left it for a few more hours it would start causing issues with the muscles on his face, luckily kristen is a good enough cleric that though she couldn't disappear it completly he has no underlying issues.

Kristen was subconsiously healing herself before anyone even realised she was a cleric. She's never had an injury linger long enough to cause a scar.

Adaine and Gorgug are in the same boat. The scars are old but can be smoothed out and faded because they're so shallow, but the discolouration is still there.

Fig has cuts and scars from the regular rough and tumble of being a kid. Nothing super gnarley because her mom is able to heal but she for sure had a lot of scraped knees growing up. The skin around the base of her horns is fairly scarred up as well, since she wouldn't let her mom heal her when they first broke through the skin.

Riz had a lot of superficial scars just as a result of getting bullied as a kid, not to mention ones he's accidentally given himself over the years because his claws are sharp and sometimes you'll accidentally cut yourself. His worst ones are on his hands and they're not superficial. Kristen and Fig weren't able to heal him straight away after the fight in the arcade and his hands got ripped to shreds in the palimpsest. Then they were arrested, separated, and he had to sit for hours in the back of the police van away from his friends without healing while they sorted everything out. By the time he got healed later the damage was already done. His hands shake and twitch now if he's tired or cold and his handwriting took forever to become legible again.

[allastoredeer]

No hate, just asking.

So you just personally like bottomAlastor and make every ship with him as bottom because of your personal likes. But this works the same way with bottomLucifer. People liking it and making him bottom in any ship. Or liking topAlastor and making him top in every ship. Maybe there are people who just go with trends in ship dynamics, but a lot of shippers just like it without any 'making mlm into hetero' meaning. Yes even when making Lucifer a bit more feminine since they do it in every ship simply cause more feminine Lucifer does things to them.

Exactly 👉👉 people like what they like and they don't need to defend or give me a list of reasons why they like it. I figured people liked bottom!Lucifer or top!Alastor because it scratches that itch for them (much like me with bottom!Alastor), otherwise they wouldn't be writing/drawing it at all.

It's why I don't seek out fans I disagree with or lurk on their pages/blogs to bombard them with reasons why I, personally, don't like how they depict radioapple (and because that's just a shitty thing to do in general, and no should be doing that. That's a one-way ticket to turning fandom into a very toxic place).

I keep my opinions and thoughts to my blog page for that reason. This is place where I can write about the things I like and dislike, post my art and fics, and interact with fans who share the same thoughts and feelings as I do. I'm sure a lot of fans would disagree, but, to me, most of the depictions of radioapple that I've seen come off as incredibly hetero coded, and a lot of the way Alastor is drawn/written squicks me out, especially when he tops. And that's not in the way that he's overly sexualized or anything, imma gonna sexualize that man to my heart's content, but Alastor's ace identity means a lot to me, and a lot of the time I just...don't feel it with him.

Now there's no "correct" way to write an ace character, as its a spectrum. There isn't a checklist of things you HAVE to follow. But with Alastor, especially when it's in a written work - especially when it's HIS pov - he doesn't feel ace. You can't tell that someone is ace based on how they talk or act - not usually - just like you can't assume a man is gay based on how he runs or talks, or a woman a lesbian because she has a short haircut. But in his POV, we're supposed to be in his head, we're seeing his thoughts and emotions. It's the perfect time to explore what he feels and thinks about relationships, sex, and everything in between, and yet most of the time he reads like any other non-ace character. It's like there's no real thought or consideration given to his identity and the experiences that come with it. Asexuality is more than "don't like sex" or "only like sex sometimes," there's so much more to it than that.

But I also know that this may be the first time some people are interacting or playing with an ace character, and just the fact that they're trying - however unintentionally aphobic it comes off sometimes - the effort is appreciated.

It's a real back and forth thing for me, obviously, LOL fandom culture and spaces can be so frustrating but so fascinating at the same time.

I don't think anyone is intentionally making the ship hetero, nor do they mean to - and besides, this is how I feel, and I know everyone isn't going to feel the exact same way. I'm sure there are people who see it as a very queer relationship, and I'm not going to judge or fight them over it. Everyone has different perspective, after all.

At the end of the day, I don't mind bottom!Lucifer (I see him as a switch, so he definitely enjoys bottoming), I just don't like how he's written/drawn with top!Alastor. It's the depiction of it that turns me off. I've seen top!Alastor and bottom!Lucifer art before that I have liked, but its few and far between, and overall not worth diving into to root out the few pieces I've enjoyed.

I like feminine Lucifer, but not to the extent that I've seen. I like the masculine side of him too, especially because he's a shortie. I like masculine Alastor, but I adore his feminine side. Alastor exudes so much gender, it's insane. He pulls off masculine, feminine, and even non-binary so well. He's versatile ❤️ And it aggravates me when he's depicted as super masculine and all the other stuff is toned down, if not stripped away.

But, like I said, that's why I stay in my little corner and I focus on what I enjoy. Ranting about things you don't like in fandom isn't bad, especially with fans that agree with you. It's very cathartic actually, and I've felt more connected with the fandom than I have since the show aired. it's only when you make your emotions, thoughts, and opinions other people's problems that it becomes a negative thing.

I'm not here to rain on people's parades, so I support, encourage even, that those who do like the things I dislike (and don't enjoy seeing me clown on them) block me. No hard feelings from me. I get it.

Damn, these posts really run away from me. They get so much longer than I intend XD

But anyway, I'm glad people are having fun with super feminine bottom!Lucifer and super masculine top!Alastor, that's the whole point of fandom, but it just isn't for me, at all, and I will likely continue to rant/clown on it with the fans who also share my opinion. I'm not going to shove it anyone's face of course, I'm keeping it to my blog, and I am A-okay with being blocked if that's not something people want to see 😊