#your love for this little guy took him FAR!

[g4rvez-r3id]

Dream A Little Dream

Bf! Spencer Reid x Gf!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer comes home from work and finds you sleeping in bed and he’s completely mesmerized by you as you sleep.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: spencer likes watching you sleep (but not in a creepy way), fluffiest of the fluff, cuddling, talks about weird dreams and dream analysis, spencer is completely infatuated with you 🤭

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! i got this idea bc i love love love cuddling fics with reid 🤭 i wish this man were real so bad :( anyways i hope you enjoy this hehe

“Honey, I’m home,” Spencer smiled gently to himself as he heard the words leave his mouth. He never imagined he’d ever say that out loud to anyone. But now he had you. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it every time he said it.

He’d called out to you but there had been no answer. Granted, it was three in the morning, he figured you were probably asleep by now.

Spencer softly closed the door and he placed his satchel down by the door and removed his converse off from his feet, placing them next to your shoes near the table they’d had near the door. He scrunches his nose as his mismatched socks (he’d opted for a light blue sock paired with a yellow sock with patterns on it) patter on the floor as he walks towards the kitchen.

By the evidence on the stove, you’d made chicken Alfredo pasta. A good chunk of the pasta is left on the stove — you most likely saved it for him because you worry about how skinny he is — and he smiles to himself. At least you ate.

He makes his way over to your guys’ shared bedroom and that’s when he sees it. You’re on the bed, sleeping soundly and bundled up under the covers but sprawled across the bed, holding his pillow, no less and wearing one of his old CalTech sweatshirts. On the bed is your laptop laid far away but not too far where it would fall off the bed. No, it looked like you were in the middle of work and decided to take a break and instead had fallen asleep.

Spencer leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and a warm smile as he watches you sleep. He’d often took advantage of the times where he’d come in from work late.

He liked watching you sleep. But not in a total creep kinda way, absolutely not. He more so liked seeing you so well-rested since you were always up on your feet, dealing with work and stress and never really taking a break from anything since you were so independent. It was one of the many things he liked about you. But in all seriousness, it might’ve been his favorite thing about you.

He adored the way your nose would scrunch while you slept and the way that you snored softly into the pillow. Sometimes, you’d even had a dribble of drool onto the pillow and he even found that cute. He’d found everything cute about you.

Eventually, he’d had enough of just looking at you and decided to join you. The first thing he’d done was remove and close your laptop and carefully place it on the dresser. He even opts to put it on the charger for you.

He begins slipping off his slacks along with his dress shirt and cardigan and puts on a gray t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms and quietly climbed into the covers next to you.

He carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly and you stir a bit and scrunch your nose up once more and open your eyes to see your boyfriend, smiling warmly at you.

“Hi, honey.” He whispers and you inhale deeply as you smile sleepily at him. “You’re home!” You cheer tiredly as you scoot closer to him, you head resting on his chest and inhaling his scent as you snuggle as close as you can to him.

“I am home,” He smiles as he holds you impossibly closer. He looks down at you as you keep your eyes closed and hold him as tight as you can. “Are you okay, sweet girl?”

You nod into his chest as you open your eyes and look up at him. “I’m perfect, now that you’re here.” Spencer smiles softly at you as you rest your head again on his chest.

“Were you in dreamland?” Spencer asks with a crooked smile.

There was an abundance of times where you’d dream strange dreams. Like one time you were being chased by a hot dog or the other time you were awake on a gurney while doctors performed open-heart surgery on you. Point of the matter was, you had weird dreams.

And you could brush those off as getting food poisoning from a hot dog and never eating them again or when you fell asleep watching Grey’s Anatomy but you always dug deeper into your dreams.

Like you being chased by a hot dog could meet something that’s entirely harmless is causing you stress or overwhelming you. Or the fact that maybe you had a fear or an anxiety of being awake while having open heart surgery. You were one of the few people in Spencer Reid’s life that read into your dreams. He wasn’t one to believe in dream analysis, but you did. And so he’d often asked what you dreamed about this time, since you had dreams like that so often.

“Mhm,” You smack your lips with a sigh and curled up impossibly deeper into his chest. “This time, I was flying without wings.” You said and he furrowed his brows with an amused smile on his face. “Flying without wings?”

You nod once more, “I was suddenly floating and all of a sudden, I was falling and right before I hit the ground, I woke up.” You told him and he thinks to himself at this.

“When you dream about falling and then suddenly wake up just before hitting the ground, it's usually due to a "hypnic jerk,"” Spencer tells, being the rambler he was. And you gladly listened every time. The first time you’d gone out with him, he kept apologizing about his rambles about whatever was on his mind. You assured him that you really didn’t mind, you loved listening to him talk.

“It’s an involuntary muscle contraction that happens when your body is transitioning between wakefulness and sleep, often interpreted by your brain as a sensation of falling, causing you to jolt awake.” Spencer tells and you shrug, “Yeah, it was something like that.”

Spencer smiles softly, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as he rubs your back, back and forth with his hand. You drifted off for a moment before looking back up at him and he kept his eyes trained right on you. Like you were his only given vice, something worth living for and fighting for. To which, you were. To him, at least.

“How was work?” You asked and he turned away from you as he answers, “We can talk about it later.” Which was code for, ‘I really don’t want to talk about it right now but I mean it when I say we can talk about it later’. And when he was ready, he’d talk about with you. Eventually, he did.

“Right now, I just wanna stay here with you.” Spencer told and you smile into his chest, “I missed you.” You tell and he chuckles, “I missed you, too, sweet girl. And I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You snuggled with him, hiking your leg across his torso and holding onto him as you closed your eyes and your breathing evened once more. He smiles, looking down at you and not wanting to move a muscle to disrupt you. He probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight since he’d be too busy staring at your sleeping features and silently thanking God you were in his life and that he could share these moments with you.

And in the morning, he’d tell you that he asked Hotch for a few days off in advance because he wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. Your guys’ schedules always seemed to be opposites and the only time you’d ever really get together is in bed, like this. You deserved a few days to be with him and he you.

But for now, he’d let you sleep and veer off into dreamland again.

[rafesbabysweet]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ SLOWLY; Rafe Cameron

Summary: today was supposed to be a lazy day, but to rafe, it can’t be a lazy without some slow sex!

Warnings: smut, older!rafe, praising, groping

It was a sweet Sunday morning, the big rising sun shining through the blinds of you and rafes shared bedroom. It was dressed up in all your little trinkets, and of course rafes desk that was full of papers and his laptop, and the shelf’s on in filled with a few things like photos or things he cherishes

You and rafe were laying in bed, white and polished duvet draped over the both of you. The tv was playing a movie Rafe decided to put on before you woke up, and now that you were awake you were both watching it peacefully. You were laying between rafes legs, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he rubbed gentle circles on your stomach

You could feel the rise and fall of rafes chest, his broad torso providing and excellent pillow that was suitable for moments like this. He took the day off of work, figuring you two needed a lazy day together. You presumed you two would just lounge around all day, and so far that was what you guys were doing

But rafe being rafe, he couldn’t help his wandering hands from palming your swole breasts that were concealed by your thin little sleep shirt, that had matching shorts that too clad you body. You didn’t mind it, after all he had been doing it for the past two years of your relationship

But you did start to mind when his other hand trailed down your stomach, fiddling with the hem of your shorts before slipping his hand under the fabric. “Rafe what’re you doing?” You asked, your pedicured hand coming atop of his to stop his movements. “Cmon, jus’ let me play with her” he said, his voice almost a whisper in your ear

You tried to wriggle your hips; but rafe quickly stopped that by putting a firm hand on your pubic bone, stopping your little squirms. “S’okay, promise I’ll go slowly.” He cooed, letting his fingers slip underneath your lacey panties, gently taunting your swole clit

You whined, mind starting to go fuzzy at his touch as you nodded, letting him do what he wants as per usual. He rubbed his two fingers along your slit, teasing the sensitive area before pushing two fingers inside, making your hips twitch up. You let out a moan of delight, feeling the delicious stretch of his thick digits

“Tha’s it, good girl” he said, starting to work his fingers in and out of your tight hole. The push and pull motion of his fingers sent you into a frenzy, your body melting into a pliable pile of limbs as he whispered sweet little praises into your ear, working you up for his cock. It was delightful, his fingers filling you up full already

Your whimpers, cries and moans filled the small space of your shared bedroom, as well as the soppy noises coming from your pussy that was now leaking over rafes fingers. He loved it, and truly cherished the way your juices flowed so freely down his fingers. He loved it when you were messy, and that was almost every time you two had sex

It didn’t take long for you to come undone, not when it was rafes fingers plunging into you. You let out a cry, eyebrows furrowing and back arching as you came around his fingers, a glob of cream oozing out onto rafes fingers. He rode you through it, fingers still thrusting gently before he pulled them out, bringing the dripping digits to his lips and sucking off your juices, the taste sweet on his tongue

Rafe gripped your hips, manipulating your body underneath his as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips, cock hardening in his slacks as you moaned into his mouth, taste settling on his tongue. You could taste the gentle reminder of your orgasm on his tongue, but you didn’t mind. He removed one hand from the flesh of your waist, instead using it to pull down his pyjama pants and boxers, freeing his half hard dick

He keep his lips pressed firm on yours, intoxicating you with the feeling of his tongue in your mouth to distract you from the way he was pumping his cock in his hand, getting it fully erect before plunging it into you. You were oblivious, head aired out and lips too busy to speak

That was until you felt rafes mushroom tip run through your soft folds, lathering them in his precum. He kept pumping himself, breaking the kiss and pulling back to spit on his length, using it as a lubricant. You stared down, breathing quickening in excitement

He stopped his teasing, his tip now prodding at your entrance as he slipped it in. You both moaned in unison, heads lolling back at the feeling of each other. You were moaning at the stretch, where as he was moaning at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in like a vice

He worked his tip inside you, earning soft moans as he loosened you up. He leaned down, his forehead resting in the crook of your neck, his lips just grazing your pulse point. “Your so tight ain’t ya baby?” He whispered, breath hot against your neck. You whimpered in response, feeling him inch in a little deeper

He made sure to keep a slow and steady pace, keeping his promise as he worked his cock deep into your tightness. Your lips parted, letting out a squeal of pleasure at the harsh stretch. You should’ve been used to it by now, but each time always felt like the first. “Shh baby, s’okay” he cooed, voice strained as he fought to keep his composure, his hand coming to stroke your hair

He was so gentle, understanding of your boundaries during intimacy and always keeping them in mind. And that showed, especially now when he was being slow and gentle, laid back just how you asked him. That was a perk of dating someone older, he was mature and kept himself in check, unlike the silly boys your age who didn’t care about you and just wanted a quick flick

He worked up a pace, set perfectly for both of your pleasures. It was slow, deep, and passionate. Rafe was whispering praises into your ear, placing soft kisses to your cheeks and neck. It was all perfect, and rafe could tell by the sound of your moans. The little joyful squeals and pleasured whimpers, the moans of delight caused by the pleasure that coursed through you

His cock moved deep inside you, dragging in and out of your warm and wet walls. The feeling had him groaning and moaning in your ear, as well as occasionally nipping on your neck. He never held back with his noises, he wanted you to know that he was also enjoying it, and he also shared that by mumbling praises of how good you felt into your ear. “Oh baby, this pussy feels so good” he’d murmur, making you shiver in pure delight

Your hips started to move against his as well, his pubic bone brushing against your clit with each thrust, creating a delicious friction that you obsessed over. The noises you began to make were almost pornographic, but neither of you cared, in fact Rafe adored it. He loved hearing how good he made you feel, it inflated his ego to no height

“Atta girl, taking this cock so well” he praised you, placing a soft peck to the side of your parted lips. It felt ridiculously good at this point, especially now that your orgasm was approaching. An all to familiar cord in your stomach started to tighten, as well as the walls of your pussy. Rafe felt the clench, the newfound tightness, and knew you were close

He grinned to himself, moving his hips that small bit faster, just enough to drive you over the edge. “Oh rafe! Gonna cum!” You cried out, fingers curling into the sheets as you held on for dear life. The band in your stomach snapped, and a thick ring of cum formed around rafes cock

That was all it took to trigger rafes orgasm, a loud groan rasping in your ear as his hot semen poured into your womb, filling it with life. You were panting, and so was he as he worked both of you through your orgasms before slowly pulling out, bring gentle as to not disturb your sensitive pussy. He grabbed a few tissues from the bedside table and wiped his cock before wiping your now weeping pussy, then throwing them into the trash

He tucked himself back into his boxers, pulling up his pyjama pants and laying down beside you, pulling your body close to his. “You did so good baby, took me like a champ” he whispered, large hand caressing your hair to calm you down. He held you close, his warmth sheathing you like a large blanket. He was soo sweet, and you loved it. He took care of you, and gave you the best orgasms of your life. What more could you want?

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors:) Lemon Sherbert: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook. https://extravaguk.tumblr.com/post/651099720202256384/pairing-jungkook-x-reader-summary-but-above-all

Howling For You: The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew. https://www.tumblr.com/fortunexkookie/187386442141/howling-for-you-m-jjk

Ghosted: There are a lot of things to love about the local arcade bar, Drinking Games, but you definitely have your favorites: sinking countless hours into a Ms. Pacman knockoff and lovingly tormenting one of the bartenders. It turns out he’s one of the bar’s owners, a friend of one of your friends, and he just might like you back. https://www.tumblr.com/fortunexkookie/636904070713638912/ghosted-mini-masterlist-jjk

Best Decision Ever: You meet a pretty boy at the club and promise him that talking to you is the best decision he’ll ever make. https://full-of-jams.tumblr.com/post/613652262746718208/best-decision-ever No Nut November: Jungkook and his friends are all in on the internet's most ridiculous trend: No Nut November. But you’re determined to make your boyfriend lose — and you know just how to do it. https://www.tumblr.com/voyter

Denial: It's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with Jungkook. You both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. Trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. Jungkook sees, and he's mad. https://www.tumblr.com/girlygguk/716641112933138432/denial-jjk-18?source=share

First Class: In which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. And Jeon Jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite. https://www.tumblr.com/girlygguk/756185684482605056/first-class-jjk Salsa: Salsa teacher!jk x uni student!(f)reader https://www.tumblr.com/girlygguk/763407479929552896/hey-lyssa-how-about-a-salsa-teacher-jk-the

Not In That Way: In which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, Min Yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, Jeon Jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you. https://www.tumblr.com/girlygguk/765729728238862336/not-in-that-way-jeon-jungkook-m

Wit It This Christmas: You’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. This time, you let them know. Or, better yet, hear. https://www.tumblr.com/girlygguk/770490432010534912/wit-it-this-christmas-jjk

[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter one

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 6.2k

“Goddamn. This apartment just got so much better.”

Your mouth fell agape after you followed your best friend’s gaze until you were both staring across to the window opposite of yours. With only a narrow walkway separating the two apartment buildings, it gave you a perfect view into the curtainless home. 

A man stood in the living room, shirtless, his torso of tattoos on display for you to gawk at. Your eyes trailed the bits of bare skin slowly, pausing just where his black athletic shorts sat low on his hips. He was doing some stretches that you immediately recognized as yoga poses. Not your workout of choice but who were you to judge when your breakfast that morning had been a stale bag of Doritos? 

“Fuck…I didn't know yoga could be so hot.” 

Both you and Melinda - Mel - took synchronized steps closer before kneeling onto your couch, elbows resting on the back ledge for comfort. 

“Should we be watching him like this? I mean…doesn't it make us kinda creepy?”

Mel shrugged, her palms shifting to cradle her chin as she stared adoringly at your way too hot neighbor. “Nah, it's fine. It would only be creepy if he was watching you work out.”

“Sounds a little hypocritical.” 

“He's the one half naked in front of an open window!” She motioned dramatically to the lack of coverings on the floor to ceiling windows of his apartment. “He's asking to be watched.” 

With a roll of your eyes you could only laugh, head shaking at your friend. You weren't going to touch on that specific topic with her because Mel could be rather sensitive at times. The last thing you needed after enduring the stress of moving was to have a petty argument break out. 

“Shit, I gotta go. I'd love to sit and watch this absolutely stunning show all day, but Madam Roslyn needs her brat’s dry cleaning.”

Your nose scrunched at the mention of Mel's boss. She used the term ‘Madam’ in mockery towards the horrid woman, although that's how Roslyn preferred to be addressed. She clearly didn't view it as laughable as the rest of the city did when referring to a millionaire with two ridiculously evil twins. 

“Tell Satan and Lucifer ‘hi’ for me.” 

“You do know that's pretty redundant, right?”

“Yeah, but I don't care. It gets my point across.” You waved her off with a motion of your hand before bringing the same hand to your lips to blow a kiss in her direction. 

“Bye, bitch! Let me know if you go fuck your neighbor!” 

The request didn't even warrant a response because of how unlikely that scenario actually was. Mel knew this too. She had begged you on many occasions to go out and 'stretch your legs' again aka spread them for whatever guy looked your way at a bar, and each time you did exactly the opposite. That wasn't a mistake you were going to make again. Too many scars still lingered from last time – physical and mental. 

After Mel securely closed your front door you allowed your attention to shift back out the window. Although this time when you looked out a pair of eyes were staring back at you. His hands were on his hips, his breathing slightly labored, both of you holding the other's gaze for a beat too long. Your eyes widened and you froze as you were caught in the act, but the guy only did what you could assume was a laugh from so far away, his hand then lifting in a slight wave. 

You dropped down to your couch suddenly so you were no longer visible. Your heart hammering away violently within your chest. Dammit. How fucking awkward. 

X X X 

Days were long and the nights even longer. You had managed to pick up a couple of jobs to help ease the financial burden of moving despite the hefty amount of cash stashed away beneath a pried up floorboard in your closet. It wasn't the greatest hiding place but you didn't want to risk such a large sum of money randomly going into your bank account. You feared it would trigger an alert of sorts to those you were better off without. The feeling of having to hide was exhausting and you wished more than anything that things didn't have to be this way. 

If only you had been smarter. Less naive. Not so gullible. 

You yawned as you kicked your shoes off after a tiring day of being a personal errand girl for an old man that simply went by Red. Mel had helped you get the job through her connections with Madam Roslyn and the man reminded you of your grandfather when he had been alive and well. It was an opportunity you hadn't been able to pass up. The pay was decent and he was kind enough to give you the main holidays and most weekends off. What more could you ask for in the bustling city? 

Unfortunately, his generous pay still wasn't enough to keep you afloat and comfortable in your new life. Never would you go back to skipping meals or clinging to someone because of the way they ‘took care’ of you. You were determined to do it on your own. 

“Shauna said you can get a job with her!” 

There was a fury of noise in the background of wherever Mel was, leading you to believe she had agreed to stay later with Madam Roslyn’s little terrors. Thank god you had gotten a better deal with Red’s assistant gig. Mouthy children were not your forte. 

“The Shauna who works at that one club? The one with black velvet walls?” 

“Wait…how big are your tits?” 

You paused from tugging your shirt off to look at the phone as if your best friend could see your expression from across the city. Your unamused face was from both her knack of ignoring your questions and also asking some ridiculous ones of her own. 

“Okay, whatever, doesn't matter. You're hot and have a nice ass.” Mel quickly covered as if her question hadn't caused hundreds of others to arise. 

“What the hell kind of job is this? But I can't leave Red anyway, not after he talked to me all day today about how his grandkids never visit anymore. Shit is depressing.” You scurried around your room while changing into your comfortable attire for the evening. Oversized tee, pajama shorts, and fuzzy socks. It didn't matter what time of the year it was because your feet were always freezing. 

“That's the beauty of it!” Mel squealed in delight from the other end of the call. “It's a nighttime gig. I think she said she goes in around eight and gets off at two –”

“In the morning?!” 

“I know you aren't worried about getting your beauty rest. I've seen you party all night and rally for work with fifteen minutes of sleep on the bus.” 

Okay, she had you there. You were the queen of functioning with little to no sleep. It was both a blessing and a curse. 

“Maybe. I guess. I'll have to see what kind of availability I'd be able to give.” 

With one hand carrying your phone and the other clutching a box of crackers, a pack of cheese tucked into your elbow, you came to an abrupt halt in front of your couch. Right across the currently empty sidewalk was your hot neighbor…naked…with a girl pressed against the glass. Her back was to you and her legs wrapped securely around his hips, that of which were currently ricocheting between her thighs at a rapid pace. Your eyes widened, the words you had been about to speak to Mel dying on your tongue to leave nothing but the sound of her trying to grab your attention. 

“Hello? Helloooo?” 

“He's fucking a girl right now.”

“What? Who? Oh my god! Hot neighbor?!” 

You nodded, and even though Mel couldn't see you she still erupted in excitement as if she was standing right beside you and witnessing the act as well. 

“What does she look like? Is she hot too? I bet he bags all the tattooed baddies.” 

“All I can see is the back of her head and her ass, Mel. I don't know.” 

The phone in your hand was set down after you switched it to speaker, your “girl dinner” also dropping to the couch to be tended to in a few. You were frantically trying to close your curtains to give him some privacy whether he wanted it or not, but your sudden movements must've somehow garnered his attention. 

Just as you were about to fully close your curtains his head tilted in your direction, your eyes meeting again just as they had a few days prior, but this time over the unaware girl’s shoulder. And just like then, you froze. His thrusts slowed to a pace that you just knew had to be agonizingly torturous, though you could tell by the rippling of the girl's ass that he was still being rather rough. A faint smirk tugged at his lips…or what you assumed was a smirk due to the distance between your windows. No, you were pretty sure he was smirking at you. Had he even been waiting for you to appear and see the show? 

Okay, so hot neighbor was smug as hell. You couldn't say you were surprised by that. Just the eye contact you two held was enough to drive a warmth through the entirety of your body, more specifically right between your thighs. A chill even radiated down your spine despite your flushed skin and you briefly found yourself wondering what it was like to currently be that girl pressed against his window. 

“Flash your tits! Maybe he’ll invite you over to join!” 

“Melinda!” You hissed, the screech of the curtains finally coming together to block out the scene interrupting your scolding. 

“Fuck. This guy has got to get some blinds or something.” 

Later that night while in bed, your hand had drifted down between your thighs to help ease the tension that had grown rather quickly all thanks to that damned smirk. 

X X X 

There were times when you were alone that you let your thoughts get the best of you. Your overthinking had become less and less controlled until it ate you up, leaving your cuticles in tatters and the constant sound of your foot tapping against the hardwood floor had become the soundtrack of your life. You were terrified constantly. There were so many things that could go wrong that you were truly just waiting for the pin to drop because you knew it would eventually, it was just a matter of when. 

When would you be found? When would you make the single dumb decision that would change your life forever? When would you end up six feet under at the hands of the people you were once involved with? 

Living with these thoughts day to day wasn't healthy. You knew this. You didn't need to pay some $500 an hour specialist to recite the obvious, nor did you need to sit around in a circle and reveal your deepest thoughts to strangers in a support group that only had fake sympathies to offer. This was something you could handle on your own, or so you liked to constantly remind yourself. If your past had told you anything, it was that you couldn't rely on anyone but yourself anyway. 

You took in a deep breath, held it, and then slowly exhaled while counting backwards from ten. The trick didn't work as well as it used to but you were still hopeful with every attempt. It was your first day off in over a week and while your body desperately needed the rest, your brain was still going a million miles a minute. There was a bottle of overpriced wine you had yet to touch that was living in your fridge, that of which could easily take the worries away, but you resisted. That was only a temporary fix. 

As you shifted your position on the couch for the first time in two hours, you couldn't stop your gaze from drifting out the window. Most of the time he was never there, obviously off living his life to the fullest and unconcerned about you, the strange woman who creepily watched him. But much to your surprise, there he sat. He appeared to be alone from the glimpse you took, his long body spread out on his couch in a mimic of your own. Maybe he felt your eyes on him or maybe he had been curious about you as well because after only a couple of seconds his head lifted and angled perfectly for where you sat.

Like every time before, he didn't shy away from your stare. You decided to follow his lead and not look elsewhere either. You could even feel the faintest smile appearing over your lips, a friendly acknowledgement that you saw him and also saw him seeing you.

Hot neighbor’s eyebrows pulled together slightly and his head nodded upwards, a curious expression working over his features. You figured he wanted to know what you were doing, so you promptly lifted your book so he could see the spread pages. It wasn't like he had to know that you hadn't flipped a single one in a good hour. He nodded, his face now reading as impressed. A brief moment later and he was exchanging the same information with you, allowing you to see the notebook and pen held within his hands. A writer? How interesting. 

It was amazing what could be communicated without words. 

Long, drawn out seconds later, you both returned to your own lives, but you still occasionally found yourself glancing to his curtainless window. 

X X X 

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O! You can take me hot to go!” You loudly sang with the group crowded into your apartment, all of you tossing your hands up along with the lyrics in the way Chappell Roan had bestowed upon you. 

Surely you would get a fine for being so loud but you and Captain Morgan couldn't care less. At that moment you were having the time of your life for the first time in months and that's what was important to you. Not work. Not the dark cloud looming over your head. Nothing but having the best fucking time before reality set in. 

Mel danced up against you as you ground your hips into Dean, one of your other friends who always had the best manicures and didn't know what a “full length shirt” was. If he wasn't showing off his abs then what was the point of life? All his words. 

“Order up, I'm hot to goooo!” You tossed your hair around and dragged your hands along the length of your body, paying special attention to your chest and hips - both of which were accentuated in the dress you wore. 

How had you ever thought throwing a “house warming” party would be a bad idea? God, sober you was such a fucking drag sometimes. Parties were fun as hell and you made a silent pledge to yourself right then to have them more. 

As your fingertips dragged along your thighs, hiking the hem of your dress up a bit in the process, you felt your body becoming abnormally warm. Alcohol always made you flush but this was a different sensation, one that had only recently become known to you. You wanted to look around your apartment because you would've sworn he was in the same room as you, simply watching you dance and have a good time. No way could his stare be this powerful from all the way in the apartment building opposite of yours. 

But alas, you were wrong. 

Your glitter dusted eyes drifted to your window where twinkling lights had been hung. You could just barely make out the image of his silhouette across the walkway, one hand in his pocket as the other arm rested against the glass above his head. Thanks to his eyes acting like actual fingers, you didn't need to question the possibility of what he was focused on. You could feel every trace along your heated skin.

Although he was a distance away, you were imagining that he was right across the room. Watching you. Devouring you. Dean wandered off to join a duo he excitedly greeted as they walked in, leaving the front of your body on full display for hot neighbor. Your hips continued to sway while your hands trailed along your body, one paying special attention to your breasts as the other slowly lowered back down to where the short hem of your dress rested at the top of your thighs. You imagined him licking his lips and raising his eyebrows for you to continue, silently challenging you to put on more of a show for him. 

It didn’t matter how many people were in your apartment and could see you because everything you did in that moment was for him and only him. 

Ever so slowly your fingers dipped beneath your dress to trace along your inner thigh to tease him, and also yourself in the process. You didn't think it was possible for his gaze to become even heavier but you swore it drank you in and swallowed you up. The hand on your chest pushed up against your breast and your fingers dug into the ample flesh, threatening to tug the fabric down and bare yourself to him. Every inch of your body was aflame, your nerves screaming to be touched by his heavily tattooed hands you had daydreamed of on more than one occasion. 

You had no idea what it was about this man that had you in such a chokehold. Everything about him was unknown to you, yet you still craved him. Maybe even more than you had ever desired anyone before. 

The sound of your name being repeated pulled you from your trance until you had no choice but to rip your gaze from his. The music blasting through your apartment came flooding back in and you were suddenly aware of where you were again, as well as all the people surrounding you. Thankfully it didn't seem as if anyone had noticed your little bout of hypnosis. 

“We need towels!” Mel was calling to you from over the music, motioning towards the kitchen where an obnoxiously drunk guy appeared to have knocked over an entire bottle of Tito’s Vodka. The liquor was puddled on the floor, shards of glass glistening in the liquid it previously housed. 

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled before yelling back to Mel an explanation of where she could find some spare towels. Maybe you should've gone to clean it up yourself since you were the host but you were eager to get back to the eye fucking you had been participating in with hot neighbor. Unfortunately, when you looked back through the large windows, his apartment was empty. 

X X X

“I feel so ridiculous,” you murmured to yourself beneath your breath, following the statement up with a heavy sigh. For the tenth time you tugged at the tiny black skirt you had been provided to wear, the hem riding up your ass and cupping your cheeks in a suggestive yet desirable way. Maybe Mel had been right when she said you had a nice ass. Too bad it had taken your physical discomfort for you to realize this. 

A blonde woman that appeared to be a few years older than you glanced your way with a snarky grimace, her eyes then rolling after taking you in. You tried not to pay any attention to her as you adjusted the straps of your top, as well as your breasts that were popping out. You had been told to wear your best bra, which you had, and now you could see why the request had been made. The uniforms at Nocturnal left very little to the imagination, but at least you were still wearing clothes. 

You couldn't say as much for the red head that was sauntering around the dressing room with her tits out without a care in the world. Damn. How were you supposed to get that amount of confidence? It wasn't that you were insecure, but being in the sort of relationship you had previously had definitely done a number on your mental state. You had been conditioned to believe that showing your body for anyone but him was one of the biggest sins. Amongst many other things but you had been trying very hard not to allow your thoughts to drift to those dark places. Something as simple as a v-neck t-shirt had earned you a reprimand on more than one occasion. 

“You're the new girl, yeah?” The attitude-filled blonde questioned while swiping eyeliner along her lower lash line. You glanced at her through the mirror you stood before, responding with only a slight nod. Her eyes looked you up and down again, a throaty laugh following her heavy gaze. “They're just going to looove you. New meat.” 

“Shut the hell up, Charlotte. Why do you always have to be so catty with the new ones?”

Shauna came strutting into the room at just the right time to prevent you from making an enemy on day one. She stood at your side, one hand on her curvy hip, the other resting upon your bare shoulder. The snarky blonde that you now knew as Charlotte simply rolled her eyes in the same exaggerated fashion again, a manicured hand waving in dismissal to Shauna. 

“Don't mind her,” Shauna leaned in a bit closer to you as if she was telling a secret but the volume of her voice never lowered. “She's just bitter because she doesn't get good tips anymore after her botched boob job. She's scared you'll take all of King’s attention. Not like she ever really had it to begin with.” 

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing despite your attempt to stifle it. Charlotte shot a glare at you, her fist tightening around her curling iron that she was using to touch up portions of her hair. 

“Oh, please. She's clearly not experienced enough to draw his eye. I'm not worried.” 

“Who's King?” You looked back and forth between the two women, your confusion beyond evident. Charlotte again chuckled, her tongue swiping over her plump lips while giving Shauna a look that read as 'seriously?’. 

“As I said, I'm not worried.” 

“So grouchy,” Shauna whispered while giving your shoulder a squeeze. You couldn't help but to notice how they both ignored your question. “But you look amazing! I knew you'd fit right in around here.” 

“What did she mean by all of that? Who's going to love me?” As far you knew, this was supposed to be a simple waitressing gig at a club. Sure, there was a room towards the back that housed the nude dancers but you had made it very clear that wasn't going to be your area. 

Shauna smiled kindly at you, soft laughter emitting from her. “She probably just meant the regulars,” she explained as she took your hand and began to lead you out of the dressing room. “They're the best tippers and are always on a first name basis with the girls. A few can get a little handsy but they know the servers are off limits. They have to go to the back rooms for that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in further confusion but you didn't dare voice your questions. While you weren't naive when it came to this sort of “scene”, you also weren't well versed in it. All you really knew was what you had seen from movies and read in your books, as well as the conversations you'd eavesdrop in on between your ex and his pals. Never did you think you'd actually be a part of any of it. 

Shauna dragged you along to the bar off to the side. The music was loud enough that you couldn't even hear yourself think, so you had no idea how you were supposed to take drink orders in this place. Bodies were already piled in, all of them dancing and swaying to the music, tabletops filled with those enjoying the scenery and atmosphere. Nothing too out of the ordinary so far in comparison to waitressing jobs in the past. Those had been at family friendly restaurants, but how different could it really be? 

“I'm going to start you off with a couple of lower tables, okay? Only until you get the hang of it.” Shauna had her mouth close to your ear as she explained things, aiding in your inability to read her lips well enough. 

“I'm just taking drink orders, right? It can't be too bad.” You shrugged, a notepad and pen now in your grasp that she had passed your way. Shauna side eyed you with a smile and a slow nod of her head, silently communicating that she wasn't too sure about that. 

“Only thing you really need to know is that you've gotta smile and be friendly! These guys aren't dropping hundreds of dollars to be served by a witch with a stick up her ass. No matter how nice it may be. They like attention and thinking they have a shot with you, even though they have zero chances.” Shauna’s laughter continued as her eyes traveled along what appeared to be business men along the opposite side where the more private booths were located. “But like you said, it can't be too bad, yeah?” 

Oh, how wrong you had been. Only a couple of hours in and your feet were already aching, your black top damp and chest sticky from the drink you had recently spilled on yourself, and your frustrations were rising by the minute. It didn't help that Charlotte had decided to steal one of your main tables, leaving you with only one, as well as a couple of small bar tops. Despite your overwhelmed demeanor, the club never stopped filling. More and more bodies pressed together and you swore the music had also been cranked higher, the lights dimmed red to further set the vibe. Fuck, you were going to crash and burn on only your first night. 

“Hey!” A whistle garnered your attention, your head quickly turning to the bartender whose name you still hadn't caught. “Can you take these to VIP?” He slid a couple of glasses your way and then began to take the order of another patron before you could even reply. Your mouth opened and closed in an attempt to explain that you weren't serving VIP that night. You didn't even know where the hell VIP was. 

“Up those steps and to the right!” The same red head from the dressing rooms earlier sauntered by you while carrying a tray of empty glasses that she quickly disposed of and replaced with fresh drinks. She was no longer naked, instead adorned in the same uniform as every other waitress. 

“I…Shauna told me to stay on the lower levels,” you tossed back nervously, shaking your head. 

“Look, we're swamped! Just take the drinks up and then I'll take VIP again after I drop these off. Easy!” Then, just like the bartender, the red head was disappearing before you could respond. 

You looked at the drinks, the winding stairs that lead to the VIP level, and then back to the drinks. The glasses were already starting to sweat so you knew you had a narrow window before they became too watered down. With a deep breath, you snatched up the drinks and strutted towards the steps with as much confidence as your exhausted limbs could muster. Which, honestly, wasn't much. 

One step was cautiously taken after another, the music fading the higher you ascended. You sighed in relief when your ability to hear just yourself again resurfaced and you suddenly realized why VIP was so sought after by all the waitresses. You knew it couldn't be solely because of the tips you were likely to secure. It was also the peace of mind. 

VIP was darker than the lower levels because the lights shifting through the space never angled correctly to douse it in much color. You figured this was done with a purpose. The back perimeter was lined with black leather sectionals, glass tables centered in front of each one, and there was a railing that allowed patrons to overlook the lower level. Since this wasn't a very party-heavy area, you couldn't help but to assume it's where business took place. You had been in spaces like this many times before finding your way to this city. The thought made you uneasy because “business” sometimes meant paperwork and meetings, but it could also mean something more violent. 

Three men sat off to the right, two of them smoking cigars while the other fidgeted with something in his hand. A coin, by the looks of it. Silence overtook them when one noticed you, his eyes immediately raking over your body. It felt nothing like it did when hot neighbor did the same. Both were strangers but there was something about this particular unknown man you didn't care for. He was older, which wasn't the problem, it was more so the dead look in his eyes. 

“My sincerest apologies for the delay, gentleman,” you smiled while laying it on thick. 

“Where's Dana?” 

The man to the right spoke up, his disdain towards you quite obvious. You figured Dana was the red head you had spoken to at the bar, or so you were going to safely assume. “She’s briefly tied up with another table. She'll be right back with you. Until then, can I get you anything else?” You forced a smile, the sweetest possible in the moment. 

“Yeah,” the same rude man took a swallow from his drink and then motioned for you to step closer. “Come here. I haven't seen you before. I'd remember.” 

There was no hesitation in your motions as you closed the space between yourself and the man, no matter how uneasy he made you. Nothing had happened to make you believe he was outwardly dangerous, although you could see right through him. You knew he was the type that liked to destroy others. It was written in his eyes and the $20,000 watch hanging from his wrist. 

“What's your name?” 

Shit. Shauna had told you earlier to make up an alias for yourself and you had been too caught up with actually working that you had forgotten. She explained it was for safety but also because it could be fun to play someone else. You didn't tell her you were already doing as much and it wasn't nearly as fun as the club assumed. 

“Genevieve,” you slowly drawled. The name of your late grandmother. Oh how she’d get a kick out of this. 

The man smirked through a cloud of smoke, his lifeless eyes again looking you up and down. “Genevieve. How beautiful.” He was suddenly reaching out for you, his hand grasping your wrist to pull you closer. Keeping a hold of your wrist, he set his drink aside to free the other so he could grope along your hip and down the side of your exposed thigh. You softly gasped in shock but you didn't jerk away like your mind was screaming at you to do. Instead you stood frozen, fear shuddering through your veins. 

“Hasn't the boss and his right hand already warned you about touching the servers?” One of the other men laughed as if you were nothing more than an object for their enjoyment. In their eyes that's exactly what you were. 

Dead Eyes kept his focus on you, his rough fingertips still trailing your thigh. “Fuck the boss and his little bitch boy. What's his name? King? Kid thinks he runs this place.” 

Tears threatened to well in your eyes but you refused to let your fear show. That's what men like these wanted. They craved to feel the power they held over others, but especially women. It made them feel special in their minuscule lives. In reality, it made them weak. 

The man you stood before halted the motion of his hand just as it grazed the back of your thigh and threatened to disappear beneath your already barely-there skirt. His eyes were now looking past you, annoyance showing in his hollow gaze before his hand fell from your body. He dropped your wrist with a force while simultaneously pushing you back an inch. 

“You were already given a warning, Marcus. Two, if I remember correctly.” A new voice greeted your ears, yet you were still too frozen to turn and see who it belonged to. You could feel his eyes, though. It was so familiar. Heavy. “But here you are, still harassing the staff.” 

A figure stepped around you, gently nudging you back a few more steps. He was much taller than you with dark hair, his outfit black on black, at least from what you could tell from behind. There was something about him that commanded the attention of the room and you were more than willing to give it to him. So much that you hadn't even noticed the way he was leaning closer to the man now known as Marcus, his body slightly bent and an extended hand holding something to the repulsive man's neck. A peek to the left and you could just barely see the black splotches of ink that covered his own hand. 

“Why do you insist on touching what doesn't belong to you?” His voice lowered, the words being hissed in a threatening manner. “Don't make me remind you again just who here is the real bitch boy.” 

Marcus murmured something that sounded like an agreement, maybe an apology, which was apparently enough for the man because he stood back to his full height and then closed the knife you hadn't previously realized he was in possession of. As he turned to the side you could see the bright red line of blood that was sliced into Marcus' neck - his punishment. The wound was shallow, definitely not deadly, but you figured it got his point across. 

The man was then facing you and you slowly raised your attention to him. Your breath caught in your throat and recognition flared in your eyes. You were sure the brief shock you saw in his gaze mimicked your own, though his was fleeting and quickly returned back to the hardened glare. 

Hot neighbor. 

“I'll be sure to mention to the boss that we had a talk tonight, gentlemen.” The man spoke to the small group without so much as a glance back to them. His attention was too focused on you, his hand placed on the middle of your back to help guide you around and towards the spiral staircase. You assumed he was going to leave you once you began your descent but he was right on your heels for the entirety of the trek, only pausing once you nearly reached the lower level. 

Lightly grasping your arm, he gave a gentle tug to bring you closer before you could scurry away. “I think a 'thank you’ is in order.” You could hear the smile in his voice, as if this situation was amusing to him. Maybe it was. You knew next to nothing about him so it wasn't as if you could truly gauge his reaction. 

“I didn't need your help,” you fired back. You didn't like to be told what to do by men on a power trip. Not anymore. “I could've handled it myself.”

“Really?” His smile widened and his posture dipped so your eyes could better meet through the darkness. “Because it looked to me like you were a frightened deer caught in the headlights. Very consistent for you.” 

At least he was admitting that he knew who you were without truly saying it. You had given him the same look from your apartment window on multiple occasions now. 

You remained silent, your eyes burrowing into his instead of trailing along his face like you desperately felt the need to. For reasons unknown you wanted to memorize every little detail and carry the memory with you forever. It didn't matter that you knew you should be somewhat afraid of him after the physical threat he placed upon Marcus. The idea of him doing the same to you never even crossed your naive mind. 

When you still didn’t respond, but also refused to back down, he returned to his full towering height over you and dropped his smile. It was like he had pulled a mask over his face to be whoever it was Nocturnal expected. But what did you know? This could be the true version of himself instead of the one you had been witnessing from your window for over a month. 

“Run along, little deer,” he gently spoke, his tone condescending, just before disappearing back up the spiral staircase. 

[ctrlhope]

Please talk about your bug boys all the time!! Any tidbits, thoughts, and, of course, their fics make me happy. I never thought I'd love bugs (scared of spiders), but i LOVE your bug boys!!

I have so many thoughts from cute to morbid about them.

PLEASE I RLLY LOVE TOOOO OMG!!!! Wait okay so below the cut i'll put in little blurbs for each of them so you can get the vibe yk?? Cause I know I havent been able to show much of them through the fics i've put out so far 😭😭 In the rest of the guys fics (save for Hoseok), they'll all be a lot more present 🥺

It makes me so happy that you love the guys as much as I do, though fr. I was never expecting Jimin's fic to receive so much love and even though you're scared I'm so happy you took the chance on reading it <333 I LOVE YOU!!!! 🥺 ALSO PLS TELL ME ALL OF YOUR THOUGHTS!!! CUTE AND MORBID IDC I LOVE THEM ALL!!!!

cw. yandere behaviour, hybrid!bts, toxic behaviour, manipulation, typical stuff lol

Kim Seokjin

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: blue morpho butterfly

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Dependent Type » 6/10

An architype of beauty. A doll for the rich and powerful. The most sought after species in the entire exotic world. Kim Seokjin knows his place in the ecosystem of humanity well-- knows the titles given to him even better. Knows his value as no more than a monetary scale, a gorgeous pair of wings to show, a creature to fawn over. To bask in the effervescent glow of. He knows his worth. He knows what he's meant to be worth. What he should mean to every human he comes into contact with-- the gem of their collection. The world they now own. So why, why would you just abandon him after purchasing him at the latest auction house? Send him to live at the reserve after he's already decided that you have the honor of being his human, huh?

Kim Seokjin has always been the type to adjust to his reality with every new owner he has, yet he just can't stop himself from becoming fixated on you. From never wanting to leave your side-- not even for a moment. From thinking about you every waking moment you're apart. From wanting to be liked by you. From wanting to belong to you-- not as a pet, but as something so much more. You were kind when you met him, even more so when he sees you at the reserve. You show him things he never thought possible, you let him live. You treat him not as a toy, never force him to do anything, not once. You, yourself, might just be a butterfly. One with their wings clipped. Seokjin has always hated collars. The stupid, diamond encrusted things his past owners forced on him as a show of wealth. But you... with you he wonders hopes that someday you might just don him with the same. Maybe he can put one on you, too.

Min Yoongi

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: fat-tail scorpion

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Obsessive Type » 2/10

Min Yoongi never thought himself to be much in the world. His mother made sure he knew that ever since he was young. A scorpion is nothing to be proud of. Nothing to shine light on. Nothing that could ever make the world happy in some sort of meaningful way. They are creatures of destruction-- bred for a bid of power. To be used in wars for their poison. To instill fear deep in ones bones from a single glance. So how come, exactly, were you never scared of him? Why did you always seem so light, so happy around the terrible, brooding man? Why did you live with your head in the clouds? Why were you still friends with him even after you knew what he was? What he could do? After the way others looked at you, judged you for even being around him? All questions Yoongi asked, yet never thought to ever find the answers to. Never thought to let himself agree with the simplest conclusion of. Yoongi's entire life he's pushed away the obvious, even more so with his hybrid side. Never letting his true thoughts be heard, nor his wildest whims carried. It's no wonder he's such a stranger from his own feelings, his own instincts. But once you finally accept him... it's unfortunate how quickly it all goes out the window. His restraint lost, his hybrid side taking up much more space than it ever did before. You're all he can think about. All he wants to be around. All he can ever hope to love and exist as in the world. He sees you in everything-- he thinks. And though he tries desperately to hold it back, because of how long he's tried to hold back his feelings, his obsession is only getting worse. Thankfully his new friend Namjoon is ready to help him navigate all of these new emotions bubbling up inside.

** though during his actual fic he doesn't really appear yandere, the further along into his relationship with you, the worse he becomes. Probably maxing out at a 4/10-5/10.

Jung Hoseok

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: warrior wasp

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Sadistic Type » 8/10

Hoseok has always lived his life exactly the way he desires. Spending his days flying around the rainforest, taking what he pleases from others, playing tricks on those below him. Coming home to his nest with his siblings, living without regard or care for anyone other than those he calls family. Living the way a hybrid should live. That they deserve to live. Wasps are practically gods among mortals, aren't they? Stronger, faster, better. That sounds right, doesn't it? A god among men. Something that should be worshiped. It's safe to say that Hoseok himself has a god complex, though he would deny that fact. He would just say he wants to have fun-- that he deserves to have fun, no matter who else might come in the way of that. Cocky, arrogant, mean. He doesn't quiet care how he is described by others as long as he knows their place. And deep, deep in the Amazon Rainforest, there isn't much to stop him, is there? Well, other than the first appearance of humans that he's ever seen. A cute little researcher leading the way, smelling so good. So delicious. Exactly like the nectar of his favorite flower. Like the jungle after a fresh rain. The best part? You wants to know everything about him. Fawn over him like he knows he deserves. Doesn't mind when he plays little games. Wants to know his whole world. You aren't supposed to leave. He knows that with his entire being. Knows you belong to him. You're his favorite toy, his mate. You're not leaving. You're. Not. Leaving. Didn't you know going into this that warrior wasps have some of the most painful stings?

Kim Namjoon

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: honey bee

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Possessive Type » 7/10

Home to the reserve since birth, Namjoon knows a thing or two about how everything functions. The fine-tuned intricacies interlaced behind the surface, the projects going on throughout, the way the gears grind almost so perfectly together to keep everything functioning so smoothly. It's safe to say he knows everything-- he makes sure he does. The taste of knowledge is so sweet, he knows he could never turn away. He helps the new members of the park adapt smoothly, makes sure to help out with the hive. Oh, and of course help out the sweet little director of the park. He would never be so cold as to turn you down, anyway. You've grown so close over the years-- he was the one to first help you gain your bearings when you first took on the job. He's the one to bring you flowers when you've had a hard week. He's the one to put a blanket over your shoulders if you fall asleep at your desk. He's always there. He just makes sure of it. Because there's just something so beautiful about knowledge, you know? Something so deep, so raw, about knowing every little thing about somebody-- everybody that Namjoon can't turn himself away from. Knowledge enlists power. It instills fear. He wants you. And he knows. He's going to figure out everything about you. Just so he can have you. So he can make you his little puppet. Secrets are such dangerous things. You should know that. You do know that. But he, he knows there's something off about you. And once he finds out what, there's no going back.

Park Jimin

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: cobalt blue tarantula

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Clingy Type » 5/10

It's just too hard to be a spider!! Jimin's known it for as long as he can remember-- well, as long as he's been at the reserve, anyway. People there think you're scary so they don't give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape, not to mention the sun!! Oh god, and don't even get him started on his fangs. He loves them, they're so pretty-- he knows he's pretty, but they're just a pain! Nothing to properly bite to take away the itch!! Uhg!! Being a spider is just so hard!! But you, sweet sweet you just make it so easy. Ah! Wait, no. He's getting ahead of himself again. He has to remind himself to be patient-- oh so patient with you. It's not your fault you're just a little human, that you just need a little more coaxing than most. That you need time to understand him. To understand his raw, unfiltered desires. Oh, the things he would do to you if you did. The things he's going to do once you do. It was never his intention to stumble into your home, in fact, he had no inkling to do the sort. But he needed to get out, he needed to leave the reserve. To explore. His skin burned to go, the words of his bestfriend ushering him along the way. It was fate he found your home. A sign that you were meant to be. And every since that day, a moment has not gone by that he hasn't thought of you. Hasn't worked on planning his next move to have you. Because human's are fragile, you know? They need time. They need space. But Jimin-- he wants neither. He wants you all for himself. He needs you to want him like he wants you. Every waking second. Every moment. And maybe... maybe someday he'll wrap you up tight enough, pretty enough to show you what real love is.

Kim Taehyung

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: domestic silk moth

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Impulsive Type » 9/10

Kim Taehyung... he's another breed of creature entirely. Everyone at the park knows it-- his best friends especially. An amalgamation of nothing and everything. Something that is so easy to read yet difficult to decipher. The type of person to live off of their will alone, not caring for anyone else, nor the consequences their actions may hold. If Taehyung wills it, that's simply how it's going to be. So why... why exactly do you make everything so difficult for him? Things should be so simple-- they always are in his world. He wants a specific tree or cave in the park, the others give it to him. He wants attention from specific visitors, the others leave to let him have it. He wants to leave the park, play another cute little game of cat and mouse with you-- he knows you'll follow him in the end. Or else. He doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. He doesn't care about hurting people to get what he wants. See, it's simple, right? So why the fuck are you so difficult? He doesn't give a shit about all this human garbage. You should feel the same way he does about you. You should just accept his courting gifts without a second thought. You should be his mate and have his mark on you already. You should be living in his nest with him. But you fucking aren't and it's pissing him off. C'mon, it should just be so easy to give in-- he's so nice to you when you behave. He's such a good moth for you. He listens when you tell him no. And eventually you will give in. He knows it. In fact, he's sure you're already in love with him. You're mates. As far as he's concerned, you feel it too. At least, you will soon.

Jeon Jungkook

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: black garden ant

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Worship Type » 8/10

Jungkook loves his colony more than anything else in the world. It's all he's ever known, all he's ever grown up with, all he's ever learned to care about. The good of the colony is more important than anything else in an ants mind-- of course it is. It's bred into their blood, their genes speaking for them more than anything else. Bring home food for everyone else some days, help with the ever expanding tunnel system the next. Do everything for the sake of the colony, for the queen. Only, there was a seamless little mess-up in poor Jungkook's life. Something an ant hybrid never expects, but cant be more thrilled about. You see, ant hybrids don't have mates. That little thing is a simple fact of nature, of life. Something inherent in their beings for the good of the colony-- to make sure their priorities don't wonder. Of course they still mate, they still breed. But an ant with a mate... that means something far greater than a home colony can hold. Jungkook never anticipated finding a mate. Thought he would just settle down with someone he could be happy enough with. But now... now everything is different. Everything has changed from the second he laid eyes on your form sitting on the picnic blanket. And Jungkook knows he's loved you more than he's ever loved his own queen-- his own colony. Maybe he loves you more than life itself. For when an ant hybrid has a mate, it means the formation of something new, of something greater. Of a new colony, with a new queen. And you, you're everything he's ever wanted. You're his queen.

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ interested in more? read the rest relax reserve one-shots here!!

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[curlyfriesgalore]

the tulpar's very own "mom" & "dad."

i sent an anon message to a user (iykyk 🫣) about the reader dating curly while being a co-captain/pilot alongside him. they're seen as the mom and dad of the group because of their positions as leaders, and daisuke claimed they both had major facebook mom energy. definitely not self-projecting.

the two rolled with it, but discovered that they liked it way more than they realized, eventually calling each other mommy and daddy in their own space.

★ this is a list of headcanons and what is essentially a one-shot that's broken up into bullets. although, fair warning, i wrote A LOT, so there's so much to scroll through under the cut. anyway, the first half is sfw and other is nsfw.

☆ gen tags: fem! reader (she/her) who loves being captain and doesn't know what's popular these days. reader and curly are in their early 30s. no crash au. curly wants to have a family with you. jimmy is a janitor here LMAO

★ nsfw tags MDNI: mommy (mama) kink, daddy kink, role switching but leans into fdom/msub, curly secretly got a thing for breeding 🫢

[any feedback on my writing is much appreciated btw! since i'm doing this to improve —iris🌠]

sfw.

★ the dynamic.

you and curly met through working at pony express. both of you were equally capable captains and pilots of your respective ships, bonding over the responsibilities and pressures of your roles.

curly adored your genuine drive for this job. you were so passionate about bringing out the best in people and enjoyed micro-organizing every little detail, making sure everything went smoothly.

meanwhile, he was just good at talking, which you would always praise, but he never found much pride in what he does. however, it paid immensely well, and, at the very least, he got to indulge in his love for astronomy at every waking hour, distracting himself enough from cycling through his depressive thoughts.

so, he's not complaining. plus, he gets to ogle at and hang out with the prettiest and coolest person at pony express.

(sure, he had jimmy, so he wasn't always so alone with his mind, but with you in his life, he might actually have a chance at settling down. though, curly was getting ahead of himself. he'll try to drop his future family fantasies for now... juuust until he's sure he can bag you).

curly finds your way of leading to be so endearing and... intimidating, honestly. while he was calm and compromising, you were firm and authoritarian. you were never swayed by incompetence and planted a strong ground when navigating discourse between crewmates, but, at the same time, you were nurturing. you have an air of deep kindness and wise guidance that sends him reeling. he'd openly tell you how much he admired that, but would never admit that he daydreams of how hot you looked when you ordered your crew around. he's got to stay professional, after all!

at some point, the two of you were paired for a 3-month long-haul flight. you, the captain, and he, the co-captain. one thing lead to another and without the company's knowledge, you two fell for each other.

how could you not? you two had all the elements of a power couple and understood each other better than anyone else. besides, he is one hunk of a man. of course you'd want to snag him for yourself, who wouldn't?

funnily enough, you guys asked to see each other in the cockpit with the same intention of declaring feelings.

and, of course, since you two were grown adults stuck on a spacecraft far too long for your libidos to handle, it only took two confessions interrupting each other, two pairs of hands holding, and two soft kisses to lead to the two of you passionately making out, with you straddling his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back.

it's been years since then, and the tulpar was just one of many long-haul trips where the two of you got to work together.

however, you guys have kept your relationship hidden for the sake of professionalism. even jimmy was dumbfounded to accidentally find out nearly a year into dating.

"dude, why the fuck do you have captain l/n in your wallet...?" jimmy squinted at the photo. his eyes scrolled down the print, coming to a halt and widening at what he saw, "wait, shut up, is that you two kissing?" his eyebrows contorted into a tense knit. his mouth gaped as he stared at curly, who stood and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "since when?!"

as curly explained himself, jimmy half-heartedly laughed as he shook his head, bemusement painting his face. whether or not he was ever happy to learn about this, curly will never know.

then, realization hit. jimmy frowned as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "oh, god, please don't tell me those stains i've been cleaning were from you guys?"

"huh?! no, no! jimmy, i swear, that wasn't us, i promise!" curly panicked, his head shaking profusely.

turns out, it was, lmfao. jimmy gave him an earful, and curly kept apologizing, embarrassed that his best friend knows a little too much about what he's been doing around the ship.

this man adored you, more than anything. the security you had in him—in yourself, most of all, was intoxicatingly comforting.

the two of you swore to stick together for as long as it takes, and have already planned out your wedding, buying a house together, changing careers (curly wants to be a stay-at-home dad, maybe freelance in something if he's got time), owning pets, raising kids (he is 100% a girl dad!!! i can see him wanting at least 2, but if you still have room for one more, he'll gladly take responsibility *wink* *wink*), etc.

curly believed that you both balanced well as parents. you would teach the kids to be brave and confident in themselves, whereas, he would help them learn to handle confrontation calmly and be friendly to all.

(he's not saying that you weren't friendly, just that, between the two of you, he specialized more in the charm department. he wasn't wrong, though! back before you guys dated, he cranked his charisma to a max, and look where that's got him now 🤭).

all of this meant everything to curly. he had quite a rough start to life, not financially but familially (how you want to interpret that is up to you). it's why he's become such a people-pleaser and tends to be a doormat, growing used to internalizing his feelings because he believed others were more deserving of pity (a belief that's been reinforced by jimmy throughout their friendship).

not to mention, how much he worried about being with someone who had to stay on earth. he felt guilty for this hypothetical person, how they'd be akin to a military spouse, waiting for god knows how long, just for curly to come back and stay for less than 6 months at a time. it sickened him to think of how that would affect his future children.

so, for him to be in a relationship with someone in the same occupation and caliber as him eased a lot of that fear. and, this is the same person who is known for her emotionally maturity, who knows how to express her thoughts and feelings, and who loves curly for all that makes him him, giving him more reasons than he already had to get down on that knee.

good GOD does he wish he could go ahead and do that already, but proposing on an aged piece of metal in outer space wasn't the most... romantic setting, as much as you jokingly insisted it was.

but, no worries, curly's got it all planned out. once you all land back on earth, curly is making sure you get your dream proposal, for that man is stopping at nothing to wed you and love you for the rest of his life!

★ the beginning to a never-ending petname.

one night, anya pulled out a pop-culture board game, one that the others understood the rules and references of fairly quickly. but, you and curly? oh, you guys needed time.

you two weren't dumb by any means, you guys were just... a little behind on the trends—trends that have been out for forever 💀.

everyone poked fun at how much you would both pause and say, "huh...?" or "w-what's that from, again?" how your brows would knit and furrow, your faces looking blank as ever. the two of you would take a slow glance at each other, then at the others, and shake your head in confusion.

admittedly, swansea was in the same boat as you two, but even he knew a couple of things better than you lot. "the benefits of raising two nerds for kids," he'd say. he liked laughing at you guys, made him feel young.

"ohh, isn't that the game you play on your gameboy, daisuke? the... you know, uh, the cute pika ball thing?" daisuke stared at curly, dumbfounded by what he was hearing.

"CAPTAIN. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THE NAME OF ONE OF—IF NOT—THE HIGHEST FORMS OF ART?!" he turned to you, desperation fueling his eyes. "l/n, please tell me you've at least heard of pokémon before..." daisuke exaggeratedly clasped his hands together. you sat there, pursing your lips with shifty eyes and pretended to whistle as you looked away.

"anya. swansea. i think i'm gonna faint..." he dramatically dropped himself onto the two. swansea shook his head, uncrossing his arms and pulling daisuke off his and anya's laps, "kid, you are way too dramatic for your own good."

daisuke exasperatedly commented on how you and curly were so much like his parents, clueless and far too involved in work to know his interests.

then, he thinks for a second, and finally decides that you guys were technically the parents of the ship.

"right? think about it. if the tulpar were a house and we were family, l/n and curly would be mom and dad 'cause they're responsible for us and the ship. swansea's the grandpa—oh, come on, swan, don't look at me like that!"

"i mean, you do have grandkids, swansea..."

"exactly. THANK YOU, anya. now, you get to be the cool older sister, i'm the even cooler teenage son, polle can be like... our little pet or something, and jimmy is the uncle!"

"wh-why am i the uncle?"

"'cause you know... you're... you."

"what is THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"

as an "argument" ensued between the others, you and curly were flushing. nobody but jimmy knew of your relationship, but the fact that daisuke figuratively paired you guys as a married couple turned you into a bashful, blushing mess.

nobody noticed, really. jimmy was too busy grumbling about being seen as the weird uncle, and everyone started getting really annoyed by him. so, in classic curly and y/n fashion, you two tried to resolve the situation (curly reassured jimmy that uncles can be cool! but jimmy's frown just deepened).

the game ended, and the two of you walked to your sleeping quarters, reflecting on how it went. not bringing up the mom/dad thing just yet, but it lurked in the back of your minds.

deciding to stay in his room, you and curly changed into your pjs. you snuggled up under the covers, but he momentarily checked on some paperwork. you groaned, rolled your eyes, and patted the pillows.

"babyyy, just get into bed now." you pouted.

curly chuckled, "okay, okay... just give me ooone more sec, mama, i'll be right there—"

your eyes widened, a fuzzy warmth bubbled within you. curly quickly got embarrassed and apologized, but when you softly chuckled and reassured him that you didn't mind, he relaxed.

hearing how smoothly 'mama' rolled out his tongue unlocked something deep in you.

the truth was, curly had been calling you 'mom', 'mama', and 'mommy' in his fantasies for quite some time now. he told you, now with him in bed, how it helped him immerse himself in imagining his future with you. even in scenarios where you didn't have kids yet, it still felt so soothing to call you by those titles.

he rested his head in the crook of your neck as you circled his back with your palm, occassionally playing with the ends of his hair. as he yapped about it, trying to make it seem less of a big deal for him, you lifted his chin to face you. he instantly softened, his words faltering as you looked down on him.

"you can call me, mommy, more often if you'd like to, baby... i really don't mind." you reassured in a low voice.

curly was uncertain, but his ocean doe eyes remain glued to your deep gaze. he swallowed, "are you sure? you don't have to put up with it if you don't really like it, honey, it's okay—"

you softly hushed him, thumbing the golden hairs scattered on his cheek. "no, i mean it." you paused, hoping the following words sounded smooth, "...mommy thinks it's genuinely cute when you call me that."

curly squirmed. a whimper resided in his throat, but, as the rumbling of your voice trailed down his spine, he let a quiet, high-pitch moan escape his lips.

for a man who presents himself as someone very self-assured, he does have a hard time accepting that you were really okay with it.

however, when his hesitancy eases into normalcy, he's calling you 'mommy' and 'mama' in every other sentence. if not, all his sentences.

"hey, mommy, where'd you put my mug?"

"mama, you need to stop sleeping so late. it's bad for your health." (he's a hypocrite and he knows it).

curly's voice was naturally deep, saccharine sweet, and a bit raspy at times. but, when he called you by your motherly petnames, he'd go an octave softer, especially as the night came to a close and sleepiness was taking a toll on him. he'd sound a little dumb and incoherent, but the bass in him remained strong.

he still calls you by the classic petnames, mainly 'darling' and 'honey' since those are his other personal faves. though, minutes prior to work, he'd try to use your actual name or settle with 'babe,' so he doesn't accidentally call you 'mommy' in public. it was deeply personal for him, and if someone like jimmy caught wind of that, it would greatly upset curly, even though he would very likely tell you it was fine (just so you wouldn't chew jimmy alive).

so, when YOU began calling him, 'daddy,' it sent his mind into a haywire. (how it happened is in the nsfw section!)

he loved the safety of calling you his mommy, how it relieved the weight of his captain duties and the thoughts burdened in his mind. but, with his newfound title, he'd flip between feeling secure in your protection to wanting to do nothing but protect you. not from any real danger, perse, but, moreso, caring for each other's well-being when either of you wanted to indulge in a little less control.

it made sense that even you, the commanding leader who enjoyed delegating and dominating others (other than him), needed a break from your responsibilities and wanted curly to take the wheel for a change.

you both took turns pampering one another. he would do everything you wanted, and made sure to wrap you in his big, strong arms by the end of the day.

"rest your pretty head for me, okay, mommy? daddy's got you..." he brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it deeply, thumbing your knuckles with his large, calloused fingers. with his other arm, curly pressed your waist closer to his, letting you relish in his warmth.

when it was his turn, a long snuggle session, loads of praise, and kisses in every place was all he needed (don't forget to call him your good little boy! he needs his mommy's praise after a rough day at work).

"honeyyy, i've called you 'good boy' like 24 times in a rowww...!" you whined. of course you didn't mind peppering kisses on his face with the same adoring name over and over again, but now, he was just getting greedy.

curly giggled, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he softened his sea blue eyes, "just ooone more, pleaaase, mama? please...?"

he loved how reliable the term 'daddy' felt. it gave him a little ego boost. he's always had a pretty good relationship with his masculinity, but this just added onto that like a good affirmation.

the way his mind would get so lost in replaying how you two back-and-forthed with your respective petnames. it felt like he was role-playing his future family with you in real time.

★ extras.

it became an ongoing joke with the crew, especially with daisuke. whenever you'd tell him to get back to work, he'd drawl out a long "okayyy, mommmm," but quickly apologized after swansea smacked the back of his head.

"tch, don't talk to your captain like that."

"ach! i'm sorry, I'M SORRYYY—i was kidding!!!"

anya found it silly, never really saying anything like daisuke, but since you two became good friends (both because you guys genuinely clicked and were the only women on board), she had a knack for teasing you about it. she knew something more was going on between you and curly. so, maybe, just maybe, during a psych eval, you eventually spilled to her about your relationship.

"hehe, called it."

"seriously?! how?"

"y/n... it's so obvious. i've seen you guys go into each other's rooms."

swansea didn't care. he was an actual dad, after all, and practically everyone he knew eventually became a parent one way or another. though, if you felt comfortable enough with swansea and told him about your relationship, he surprisingly wouldn't mind giving you two a piece of advice. how to keep a long-term marriage? dude's been with his wife for over 40 years and counting. raising children? please, he's done it twice. unclogging the toilet after your kids threw your deodorant down the drain? don't ask, just listen. you're much better off not knowing how.

whatever it is, ask away, but don't expect anything easy on the ears. swansea gives advice in poetic prose that borderline sounds like he's taking a jab at you.

truthfully, jimmy is somewhere in between being deeply irritated by the both of you and not giving two shits. he hates how you're sort of a curly clone, in the sense that you're also a high-performing person that everyone adores to work with. but, what's worse, is that you're so much harder to get mad at and are 100% capable of calling out his ass.

he's had to catch himself from saying anything too mean to curly multiple times. he knows he's easily replaceable, he's the janitor for god's sake, and if he said too much in front of you, he knows you'd tell pony express to fire him on the spot.

but, if we're assuming that jimmy is mentally better in the head, he'd eventually get over it and shrug off your guys' relationship, not wanting to grow envious as he does by default.

nsfw.

★ mommy.

it didn't surprise you that curly loved calling you 'mommy' in bed too. he'd always say, "mommy, you're so beautiful", "m-mommy, it's too tight...!" and when he gets overwhelmed, he'd become so dazed as his dick ached, crying because his mama felt so good.

he was like pavlov's dog, only the bell was your petname and you were the meal. if either of you were ever so slightly horny and everyone was stowed away in their quarters, hearing 'mommy' reverberate out of your mouth had him squeezing his thighs.

however, he's gotten used to mostly keeping it in his pants. not letting himself get needy when it's used casually. otherwise, he'd cease to function.

he loves it when you ride him, he gets all whimpery and brain-dead, begging his mama to let him cum out of his "little" boy dick.

all he wanted was his mommy to use him, make him so overstimulated until all that was left in his empty head was you.

sometimes, he loved the feeling of reaching his orgasm more than the orgasm itself. it's that momentary numbness he gets that he enjoys chasing, how every single thought completely disappeared, leaving him into nothing but a panting mess — all of him leaking out of his cock.

★ daddy.

one night, you were laying on curly, sitting upright. he held you in his arms as you spread your legs far and wide, toes digging into the mattress, gripping onto curly's biceps for support.

and, just like curly when he called you 'mama' for the first time, you accidentally slipped out a "daddy—!" as he fingered you, knuckles-deep.

you suddenly went quiet, quickly covering a hand over your mouth.

curly's eyes widened, his fingers stilled inside of you as his heart raced in his chest... he didn't expect it, but his shock washed into dominance.

he pulled out his fingers, his tone more stern and husk as he whispered, "say that again."

you whimpered, the loss of fullness making your thighs shudder. without a single thought, you called him daddy again, and again, and again... until he flipped you onto your stomach and was back to toying with you, digging into your insides at much greater speeds than before.

when you began regularly using it, he'd grow so romantic and reserved, wanting to take his time to just worship you—peppering deep kisses from head to toe—because in his eyes, you were the most precious person in existence.

he's never rough unless you tell him to be or he knows that it'll make you cum even better, but this man just loves to be slow and sensual. it's his go-to speed.

his favorite thing to do is coo at you, asking if you like how daddy is loving you or if daddy's doing a good job at touching your little hole. even when he's assuming a dominant role, he wants your reassurance.

curly is never mean. he only likes to light-heartedly tease you whenever you'd whine for him to keep going. other than that, he was heavy on his praises, loved complimenting you till you were blushing all over.

★ taking turns.

now, you guys would call each other 'mommy' and 'daddy' regardless of the dynamic, but if either of you felt more subby, you'd settle for the classic, 'good girl,' and him, 'good boy' (or any other submissive petname you prefer).

if you're domming and he's subbing, he wants you to use up all of his cum for your pleasure. he hopes you'll let him spill all that's left in him for hours on end.

however, most of the time, he's not really built for that, only able to handle a little over a round. so, to make up for it, he'll let you get him all pent up and force him to hold it in, using his desperation as energy to serve you.

the longer you left him like that, the faster his licks and finger-fucks became.

if you're cruel, making him rut into you would send him shaking. he'd struggle so hard, needing to take breaks as he alternated between slow and steady thrusts to rough humps according to what you ordered... oh, tears were definitely rolling down his cheeks.

(don't worry, he's not hurt. it's just a lot for him to physically handle. but, for you, he'd withstand anything!)

on the off-chance that he has the energy to go longer, he wants you to use him in all positions with only a minute to breathe after each cum. he wants to lose it, make him sweaty and breathless, please. turn him into a pathetic display only for your eyes to see.

if he's domming and you're subbing, he finds it fun to deny your orgasm, loving how surprised you get whenever he'd lift your vibrator off your clit or leave his dick in you, barely moving an inch. but even then, he quickly caves in and lets you have your way because nothing turns him on more than you cumming and crying for your 'daddy.'

he doesn't do that to hurt you, after all, he hates the mere possibility of even remotely making you uncomfortable. but, when he asks whether or not mommy misses his fingers, and you'd mewl in agreement, he can't help himself from edging you.

★ curly thinking of you. (extras).

he jerks off to the idea of breeding you.

but, even though it gets his dick all wet, he won't re-enact it just yet. he doesn't want to accidentally impregnate you when neither of you were ready—especially since you're the one carrying.

even if you were incredibly horny and adamant on it, he'd keep his rationale.

"mommy... i'm not cumming inside you." he chuckled, shaking his head with his tone, firm. you whined, "but, why not?" a needy frown formed on your lips, "i just want to feel good, daddy. you said i could...!"

you grinded down on his boxers, wetness seeped through the fabric of your panties. curly stifled a groan as he felt your clothed folds slide against his tip, drenched in his pre-cum.

"i know, mommy, i know... daddy'll take care of you soon, i promise... but i'm not risking anything, okay?" he pressed a kiss on your forehead, thumbing circles on your stomach with his hands gripping your waist. "it's for your own safety, mama."

but, since this was all in his head, he could indulge in it as much as he wanted.

curly loved remembering the way your cum dripped out of your hole, how softly your pussy parted. it made him wish it was his, wanting to fill you up and let his mess soak up inside you.

he wished he could finger it back into you—or, even better, tongue-fuck it in. the thought of having you sit on his face with him lapping his cum into your walls, as you rubbed your clit against the end of his nose got him all hot and bothered.

with his hand pumping himself from base to tip, he'd think of you laying down on your back, wrapping your legs around curly's head as you pushed his mouth further into you. he'd moan into your pretty parts, purposefully deepening it so his voice would vibrate all over your pussy.

[holy shit, i wrote so much. thank you for reading all the way ♡ let me know if you guys want more captain! reader and/or mommy/daddy kink! curly —iris🌠]

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

I loved not again<333 would you think about making a part 2!?

IT TAKES A MESSAGE

a/n: I hope you like this part too!

jude bellingham x exgf!reader

warnings: okey this one has a (little bit of) angst.

summary: After months of holding strong, resisting the temptation of breaking the promise you two swore you’d keep, one hand gripping your phone, and other holding a glass of tequila, is just what you needed to silence the voice of reason. You told yourself not to press send, but the moment your thumb hovered over the screen, your resolve crumbled. And now, here he is, standing beside you so real that regret is nowhere to be found. You shouldn’t have sent that message, but maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you were meant to end up.

PART 1: NOT AGAIN

The music in the bar was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the sound of your own thoughts. The dim lights cast everything in a haze, but that didn’t help either. You swirled the drink in your hand—a cheap tequila you didn’t even like—staring into the amber liquid as if it held some kind of answer.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to go this way.

You had a date. A proper one. A guy from your coworker’s circle—smart, funny, attractive enough. He’d suggested dinner at a cozy little place uptown, and you’d agreed, hoping for another fresh start.

But when the time came, you couldn’t do it. You’d stood outside the restaurant for fifteen minutes, staring at the entrance, your heart pounding. The idea of smiling politely, of pretending to care about someone who wasn’t him, had made you chest ache in the worst way.

So, you walked away and felt like shit.

The cab dropped you off at a bar you’d never been to, somewhere far from home, far from familiarity. You told yourself you’d just have one drink. Maybe two. But as the hours passed and the alcohol dulled the edges of your misery, you found yourself slipping.

Your phone was heavy in your hand.

You shouldn’t. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t. For months, you’d kept your promise—no texts, no calls, no accidentally running into each other.

It had been a long time. Months. You’d blocked him everywhere, and he’d done the same. You hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard his voice. You should’ve been proud.

Instead, you felt hollow.

The tequila burned you throat as you took another sip, your finger hovering over his name in your contacts. You’d unblocked him just minutes ago, telling yourself it didn’t mean anything.

But it did.

And then you did the unthinkable.

“I hate you.”

Your thumb hit send before you could stop yourself.

The moment the message left your phone, panic set in. Your stomach twisted, your heart raced, and you cursed yourself under your breath.

What the hell were you thinking?

You stared at the screen, breath catching in your throat. Maybe he wouldn’t reply. Maybe he’d hadn’t blocked you or he had changed his number, or maybe he’d—

Your phone buzzed.

“What did I do now?”

Your breath caught. The sight of his name on your screen sent a jolt through your chest. The words stung with their casualness, as if no time had passed. You stared at the message, your heart pounding, your hands trembling. You could leave it. Ignore him. Pretend it never happened. But that wasn’t who you were.

“Existing. Leaving. Coming back.”

The three dots appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared.

“You drunk?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Tipsy wasn’t drunk. You wanted to throw your phone across the bar. Instead, you typed back:

“No.”

Another reply, almost instant.

“Where are you?”

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. The smarter version of yourself—the one who’d spent months trying to move on—screamed not to answer. But the other part of you, the one that had sent the first text, the one drowning in whiskey and regret, won out.

“Blue lights. Why?”

He left you on read and thirty minutes later, he walked into the bar. You didn’t look up immediately. You felt him before you saw him, even in the dim light, he was unmistakable—tall, sharp jaw, the leather jacket fitting perfectly... You hated how your pulse quickened.

He spotted you immediately, his dark eyes locking onto yours as he crossed the room, approaching you slowly, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. His dark curls were now longer than you remembered, he had a beard now, and the faint scruff on his jaw made him look rougher, more tired. Your stomach twisted, and you hated the flicker of relief that coursed through you.

“You look like shit,” he said, sliding onto the stool next to you. It was a lie, of course—a flimsy one at that. The sight of you, even in the light light of this rundown bar, hit him like a sucker punch. Months without you, and now here you were, disheveled but infuriatingly magnetic. His pulse quickened, and he shifted uncomfortably as the denim of his jeans grew uncomfortably tight.

“Wow. Thanks,” you muttered, staring into your glass. You didn’t look up, but the faintest twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed a flicker of amusement—or maybe irritation. It was hard to tell with you, and Jude hated how much he loved that about you.

The bartender gave him a questioning glance, but Jude held up a hand. “Just water,” he said, before turning back to you. “How many have you had?”

“I’m fine, Jude,” you snapped, hating how small his concern made you feel.

“Sure, you are,” he said, his tone softer now. “So, what’s this about?”

You looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. The truth sat heavy in your chest, too raw to voice.

“Don’t do that,” he said, leaning in slightly. “Don’t shut me out after summoning me like a bloody genie.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t summon you.”

“No? What would you call unblocking me to send that?” He gestured at your phone, his voice quieter, less biting.

“You had me unblocked too.” you tried to avoid his questioning, but he did not bite.

“What is going on, Y/N?”

The whiskey burned its way down your throat as you struggled to meet Jude’s gaze. His presence was suffocating and grounding all at once, the familiar pull of him as inescapable as gravity. He didn’t say a word as he reached over, his fingers brushing yours as he slid the glass from your hand. His movements were calm but firm, the unspoken message clear. You glared at him, but he didn’t flinch, setting the drink out of your reach with deliberate care.

Then, you took a deep breath, the words clawing at your throat, desperate to be spoken yet terrifying to release. You didn’t look at him as you said it.

“I had a date,” you admitted, the syllables falling like a fragile confession.

The air between you shifted instantly. Jude froze, his body going rigid as the words landed. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, his face schooled into a careful neutrality. But the tell was there—his jaw tightened just a fraction, and his fingers twitched, curling slightly against the counter as if trying to grasp something solid in the room.

“A date,” Jude blinked, his brows knitting together as the words sank in. The faintest flicker of something crossed his face—hurt, maybe anger—but he quickly masked it. “And you left him to come here?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I didn’t even make it inside. I just… couldn’t do it. It felt wrong.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter. The muscles in his shoulders tensed under his jacket, and you could tell he was biting back a hundred different responses.

Wrong. The word echoed in his mind, carving into him like glass. He didn’t want to care about what you’d done or who you’d almost been with, but the thought of you sitting across from some stranger, smiling in that way that made the world feel brighter, or laughing at someones stupid jokes, was unbearable.

“What do you want me to say to that?” he asked finally, his voice low and rough.

You shrugged, staring into your hands. “I don’t know. Nothing, maybe. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I hate that. I hate you for still being in my head.”

Jude exhaled sharply, running a hand through his curls. He wanted to say something cutting, something to push you away before you dug any deeper into the fragile balance he’d spent months trying to maintain. But he couldn’t.

Because the truth was, you’d never left his head either.

“You’re drunk,” he said finally, his tone gentler than before.

“I’m not drunk,” you shot back, your voice sharper now. “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. That’s why you’re here, texting me that you hate me instead of… what’s his name? The guy you were supposed to be with tonight?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

His voice was firm, but not harsh. There was something else there, hidden beneath his words—a need to understand, to place blame somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t on himself.

You shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’m not doing this, Jude.”

A charged silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. His hand brushed yours on the bar, a fleeting touch that sent shivers down your spine. His voice, when it came, was quieter.

“You deserve better than this,” he said, his words softer but no less piercing.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”

His lips twitched, almost into a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He studied you for another moment, as if debating whether to push further, before letting out a resigned sigh. “Come on,” he said, standing and holding out his hand. “Let’s get you home.”

You stared at his hand for a beat too long before taking it. His grip was warm, steadying, and you hated how it made you feel grounded.

The night air was crisp as you stepped out of the bar, the coolness biting against your flushed skin. Jude walked beside you, his hand hovering near your back but never quite touching. It was a strange kind of intimacy—protective, yet distant.

The cab he hailed arrived quickly. He opened the door for you, his hand brushing yours again as he guided you inside. He slid in next to you, his presence filling the small space.

You leaned back against the seat, your head buzzing not just from the alcohol but from the sheer weight of the evening. The silence between you was deafening, filled with words neither of you dared to say.

The driver glanced at you in the rearview mirror but didn’t comment. Jude gave your address, his voice low and steady, and the car lurched forward.

The streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. You caught yourself staring and quickly looked away, focusing on the city lights blurring past the window.

“You’re quiet,” he said, breaking the silence.

“I don’t have anything to say,” you replied, your tone sharper than intended.

“Since when?” His voice held a hint of amusement, but it was tempered by something softer, almost tender.

You didn’t answer, crossing your arms over your chest and sinking further into your seat.

When the cab pulled up in front of your building, Jude paid the driver without hesitation. You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you cold—firm, unyielding.

“Let’s get you inside,” he said, stepping out and waiting for you to follow.

The short walk to your door felt longer than it should have. You fumbled with your keys, your hands unsteady, and he reached out, gently guiding them into the lock. The small action made your chest ache, a reminder of how easily he could slip into the role of protector, of something more.

The door clicked open, and you stepped inside, the familiar scent of your apartment wrapping around you. Jude hesitated in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame as if he wasn’t sure he should follow.

“Are you coming in?” you asked, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

He didn’t answer right away, his dark eyes scanning your face. Then, with a sigh, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

The tension in the air was palpable as you set your purse on the counter and turned to face him. He stood near the door, his hands shoved into his pockets, watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

You turned to face him, suddenly unsure of what to say. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I know,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “But I’m not leaving you like this.”

The space between you felt smaller. The air felt warmer. And when you turned to face him, his eyes met yours with a mix of frustration and something softer, something that made your chest ache.

“Jude…”

His name slipped from your lips like a plea, and before you could stop yourself, you were closing the distance between you, your hands fisting in the leather of his jacket as you pressed your lips to his.

For a moment, he froze, his body stiff beneath your touch. Then his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer and the kiss deepened, your bodies pressing together, the heat between you building like a tidal wave. But, suddenly, his hands came up, caressing your arms till they gripped your shoulders firmly but gently as he pushed you back.

“No,” he said, his voice rough, breath uneven after the short kiss.

Your chest tightened, your lips missing the warmth of his. “You don’t want me anymore?”

His eyes darkened, his grip on your shoulders tightening slightly. “That’s not... Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” you asked, hating how your voice cracked.

“Because you’re upset. You’re tipsy. And you’re not thinking straight,” he said, his tone softer now. “And if we do this, you are not going to like it.”

“I always like it with you.”

His eyes softened for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. A small, suppressed smile tugged at the corner of his lips and a “Me too”. Instead, he let out a breath, his hands still resting on your shoulders, steady and grounding. “Y/N, I’m not going to let you regret this in the morning,” he replied softly, shaking his head slightly.

His words settled over you like a cold weight, and you hated how right he was.

“You should…, you should get some sleep,” he said, stepping toward the door.

“Jude?” you called, your voice barely above a whisper. He froze, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white. His shoulders stiffened, his heart thundering in his chest as he begged silently—prayed—that you wouldn’t say something to make this even harder.

“I hate you,” you said, and though the words spilled from your lips, they were hollow, stripped of the venom they once carried. Your smile followed, soft and heartbreakingly familiar, the kind that struck him like a blade, carving through the walls he so desperately tried to keep up. He felt his resolve shatter. You didn’t mean it. God, you didn’t mean it.

Slowly, he turned to face you, his gaze locking onto yours, raw and aching. He lingered, looking at every detail of your face, so he could sleep tonight. “I know,” he murmured, his voice trembling as his smile returned—a shadow of itself, fragile and fleeting. “I hate you too.”

And then, he left, closing the door behind him, carrying the weight of everything that was unsaid, but known.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi! It's been about a year since I've read any Klaine fic so I'm hoping y'all can recommend some of your favorite fics from this past year or any that you're currently reading. I hope y'all have had a great holiday season. Thanks!

There's about 260 entries for finished works for Klaine on A03 for 2024!, if you want to look at the full list.

I'll give you a list of some I've read and enjoyed. (One fic per author!). I haven't included the fics from the Christmas events.

Swords and sands by @exquisitetragicthing

Ancient Rome AU, 73 years BC.

Blaine and Kurt are enslaved in the same grand villa in Capua, 125 miles south of Rome. Blaine is a renowned gladiator known for his unmatched skill in the arena. Kurt is their master’s treasured body slave and performer. In a time where their love could be as dangerous as the sword, they find themselves instantly and irrevocably drawn to each other.

~~~~~

Twelve Strikes And You're Perfect by @sarkyblueeyes

Kurt has been in a friendly ten-pin bowling rivalry with his dad for 7 years, but his winning streak hits a snag when a gorgeous employee starts working at the bowling alley. Blaine has an ass that could roll a strike every time, and a terrible habit of bending over at inconvenient times. As well-meaning but hapless acquaintances conspire to push them together, will Kurt finally pluck up the courage to ask out his summer crush?

~~~~~

Leaps and dives by @annepi-blog

As the 2024 Paris Olympics unfold, gymnast Blaine Anderson and diver Kurt Hummel find themselves navigating more than just their athletic dreams. Blaine, focused on his second chance at Olympic glory, crosses paths with Kurt, a newcomer to the world of professional diving with extraordinary talent. What begins as a chance encounter blossoms into something neither of them expected.

~~~~~

fire island follies @bitbybitwrites

From a Tumblr Friday Ficlet prompt from bowtiesandboatshoes : "We're going to Fire Island.  It's like gay Disney World."

Title is from an actual burlesque/cabaret show: The Fire Island Follies

~~~~~

Took a sugar cookie from his heart by wavingthroughawindow @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion

Anon Prompt: what about single dads!klaine whose first "date" happens when they schedule a playdate for their two preschool aged kids?? just something cute and fluffy at one of their homes or a park or something?

Kurt Hummel's daughter has a playdate with Blaine Anderson's son and Things blooms unexpectedly between the single dads.

~~~~~

Seven by @scatter-the-stars

How far would you go for someone you love? For Kurt, that means doing the unimaginable. But if it means saving his dad, he's willing to take that risk. A risk that has him leaving his home to go states away to spend a week with the last person he ever expected to meet. Over the course of the next seven days, things don't go as planned, or thought.

Can seven days change everything?

~~~~~~

Undiscovered by @heartsmadeofbooks

All Blaine Anderson needs is a little help to put himself through school. That’s all. But he’s going to get so much more than he hoped for when he meets Kurt Hummel, the successful, sexy workaholic who in turn needs someone to make the loneliness disappear. ~~~~~

Annotations of the heart by @gleefulpoppet

Amid a period of healing solitude, Blaine crosses paths with Kurt, an inquisitive journalist. What begins as a casual conversation over an annotated book in a café becomes a blazing fire between their hearts. As the layers of their connection deepen, they learn to navigate the complexities of love, loss, and identity, unraveling a poignant tale that transcends the unexpected boundaries of their pasts.

~~~~

Unexpected By @kurtsascot

Blaine’s infatuated with his TA from last semester.

He also spills hot coffee on him.

~~~~~~

Tumblr ask box prompts by @cryscendo

Kisses - various one shots - mostly Klaine!

~~~~~

The cute guy from the bar By @caramelcoffeeaddict Coffeeaddict80

A few days after moving to New York, Kurt decided to explore the city but ended up getting lost. He doesn't know anyone else in the city, so when he sees the name "Cute Guy From The Bar" in his phone, Kurt calls him for help. Luckily, Blaine is more than willing to be Kurt's personal tour guide around New York.

Enjoy! Jen

[gatorbites-imagines]

Please, please, I'll do whatever you want, just more yautja

Male Elder Yautja OC (Ge'jaar) x male reader

Ficlet

I still don’t really know a whole lot of the yautja lore, but I love them anyways. So, heres me cooking up an oc and hoping it’s somewhat canon because I love yautja and will take any excuse to write about them. Readers somewhat based off of an oc of mine. Reader is also around 6ft 5 inches. Ge'jaar is 9ft or so.

Bako really grew on me for some reason when I wrote this, so lemme know if you guys wanna read about him.

You were old. Very old. You hadn’t kept much track of just how old you were, it didn’t really matter, but you only appeared to be in the 50s or very good 60s. You knew you were a lot older than that, having spent at least 100 years away from earth, hunting. You had returned though, at some point, and settled down in a very defensible cabin far away from much of everything, where you could live in peace with your “dogs”.

Well, you called them dogs, mainly because they walked on all fours and had a tail they’d wag, and followed orders. An ex of yours had called them Kiande amedha, you just called them xenomorphs, or your beetle dogs. Years ago, back when you had successfully killed the bad bloods that kidnapped you and your military unit, you had found this little ugly hissing creature. There was a stereotype that humans would bond with most near anything, and they were right.

You brought the little bugger along on the ship you stole from the now dead bad bloods, which took a long time to figure out how to steer. You named your pet Lucky, and you would later learn she was female. Strangely enough, she seemed to follow you as if you were the queen and not her, so it was all fine. Even if she and her first offspring did kill your ex when he tried to hit and control you. One of her offspring lost a leg in that fight, so obviously his name would be tripod.

Luckily for you, sweet little Lucky didn’t breed like other of her kind. Over the years shed only had about 50 offspring, whom she seemed to raise in the same way you remembered earth dogs would do it, sometimes making you wonder if she was some kind of crossbreed. Having 50 kiande amedha though, made you very dangerous in the eyes of your ex’s species, especially when they learned you controlled them.

Joining the hunt hadn’t been something you had outright planned to do. Or getting juiced up with whatever weird drugs and inventions the clans you were friendly with cooked up. That was why you grew so much taller, and aged so slowly.

Ge'jaar wasn’t part of one of the clans you fought alongside. You two actually met, when a group of young bloods tried to hunt your beetle dogs. Apparently, they thought you would be an easy target, being an ooman and all. Of course, you made sure to show them you weren’t. they successfully killed one of your pets, a spunky one named Hoover because he ate everything. And like any hunter worth their salt, you needed revenge.

It led to some political struggles and conversations between clan elders, since you were pretty much a part of that one specific clan now after so many hunts together.

Ge'jaar wasn’t the leader of his clan, but still counted as an elder. He was handsome, in his own, scaley way. His skin was white and covered in the same dark splotching as all yautja seemed to carry. He wore a lot of the same clothing as most yautja did, and would later on wear a cape you made from the hide of a beast you had hunted.

In the end, Ge'jaar went as far as to apologize and repay you for the dead “hunting hound”. Bako, one of the males from your apparent clan, would later tell you it was because Ge'jaar wanted to fuck you. You were still very salty about Hoover though, so you acted quite nasty and confrontational with Ge'jaar and his clan for a good chunk of years.

The cape Ge'jaar would start to wear, hadn’t even been a gift in your mind. For some reason the elder yautja had followed along for one of your solo hunts, in Bakos words “going on a date” with you. And yes, Ge'jaar was very impressive to watch fight, he was very big and broad, alright? The creatures purple blood sprayed all over his white skin also didn’t help.

You couldn’t even remember what you had said to him, but it must have been some threat or curse as you threw the creatures skin at him, since you only wanted the meat and bones. It made no sense to you at the time why Ge'jaar started wearing the fur, and you hadn’t wanted to ask Bako since the guy had just started cackling at you when he saw it.

It was only years later when you had settled back down on earth, that it really seemed to register to you that Ge'jaar was trying to charm you, in his own yautja way. Still feeling so angry about Hoovers death, even if Ge'jaar himself didn’t do it, you took all the hunting and dead creatures by your ship and hut as a threat or challenge. All the jewelry and armor as harder to explain, and you still had the book about yautja mythology somewhere on your shelf.

At that point, you had just assumed Ge'jaar moved on, since you hadn’t seen him in so long. The only yautja you truly spoke much too nowadays was Bako and those from his clan. And of course, the ones that still owed you favors, just to remind them you were still alive to cash in on it.

You had just returned from one of your trips to the nearest large city, a trip that took you almost two weeks since everything was far away, when you saw him again. Or rather, one of your beetle dogs saw him, a young one named Blue, since his dome of a head reflected blue more than the rest.

Blue had been born, laid? On earth, and had seen very little true combat, so you assumed that was why he was the friendliest of them all. Where most of Lucky’s offspring that had known space and combat stuck to the shadows and settled in the cave system near your cabin, Blue was a real lapdog.

Friendly enough it seemed, to just accept an intruder in your home. Stepping out of your truck, Blue trotted out of your cabin door, which was wide open, looking as happy as a clam with dried meat in his maw. There was a feeling in the air that you weren’t alone, so grabbing at your beloved weapon of choice, you were about to fall back into old habits.

That was until Ge'jaar of all people, stepped out of your cabin, wearing one of your shirts. Well, trying to wear one of your shirts. It was one of the largest shirts you owned, old and worn with some odd shape on the front that might have been a logo once.

The elder yautja looked very comfortable, right at home honestly, his dreadlocks pulled into a bun on the back of his large head, and a damn sleeve of cookies in his massive hand. The confusion must have been so clear on your face, as the retired hunter chittered and laughed, moving closer to help you lug stuff back into your cabin and into your massive basement.

The confusion was strong enough that you just kinda went along with it, moving everything from your large truck and away from sight until you needed it. It was only after you both sat down on the couch that you took notice of the minor changes to your home, it looked very much like Ge'jaar had just moved himself in.

You could have smacked him right then and there, maybe cut all his dreadlocks off and made him swallow his mandibles, but somehow the massive scarred yautja made himself look so innocent and borderline lovable.

Blue, the little fucker, just got comfortable on a large fur Ge'jaar had laid out across the floor, tail whipping all over and knocking trinkets off your coffee table. The little traitor, you knew you spoiled him too much.

It took a lot of explanation from Ge'jaar, and you had a feeling if you hadn’t lived amongst his people for so long you might have lost it, but apparently Ge'jaar had made some plea to his clan leader, and yours since apparently you still counted as one of those, and you two were pretty much married without your approval.

Well, or so you would say, but all your guy’s “dates” and all the “gifts” you passed between you counted as courting. You settling down back on earth just appeared to be retirement in their eyes. It wasn’t like you still hated Ge'jaar, you never really had thinking back, it just… came as quite a surprise.

Ge'jaar still kept on courting you, even when you fed most of the things he caught to Lucky and her offspring. The elder yautja took your claim that Lucky was your child to heart, clicking and purring when she, and by extent her offspring, finally accepted his presence.

Time was a true blur out in the mountains, you only really noticed it by the seasons passing and you needing to go back into town two or three times a year to stock back up. But soon enough Ge'jaar was part of your life, and yes, you still snipped and bit at him sometimes, but this time it was meant as flirting.

Your mate, since that’s what you guys were now, was so patient and seemed to find your human nature endearing enough to pick up on some of it himself. It still felt very weird to be given flowers by a seasoned hunter like Ge'jaar, or to walk in on him watching Gilmore girls with Blue draped across his lap, but you got used to it.

It was probably best that you and Ge'jaar were the ones to get together, since he was older, had already had all the offspring he wanted. The yautja was also confident enough in himself that he didn’t get jealous the same way your ex had. Ge'jaar was hot and he knew this even in his fluffy robe and slippers, though you couldn’t help but miss him in his netting and weapons at times.

It turned out to be a lot more comfortable than you had thought to retire, with your mate who had to be hundreds of years older than you, and your many, many beetle dogs. There were times you debated on going out for a hunt again, as a date, for old times sake, but that was something you would need to discuss with Ge'jaar first.

[tamberella]

HE IS OFFICIALLY A BOOK!!! Out now, wherever books are sold!

He wants some bread… 🥖🥐 Twitter I Instagram

[kiwiplaetzchen]

Allan wanders out if the library doors with a pile of books and…. Blood? You’re eyes weren’t deceiving you, he had a smear of blood streaked across his face and a smug look to match. He just flashed a cheeky grin as he walked by and held up a book that was trying to snap at his face, but was bound with rope and twine. It’s cover was scratched and it appeared to be bleeding like an animal. Allan was unphased.

“If you think I look bad, you should see the book!” He grinned.

The castle hallways were unusually quiet as Nosy balanced majestically on the tail of the werewolf statue atop the fountain in the Central Hall, his sharp eyes scanning the ground below for any unattended shiny baubles or loose snacks that might've been left behind by careless students. The Teal King had already had a productive day, tucking away three knuts and what appeared to be a golden cufflink that would definitely fetch admiring looks later. Life was good.

That was until the library doors creaked open and Nosy's gaze snapped up. His little eyes narrowing as Allan strolled out, a wobbling pile of books in his arms. The human was one of the red ones, a Gryffindor, and the Niffler immediately squinted in suspicion. There was something… off.

For starters, there was a smear of blood streaked across the boy's cheek and a smug grin plastered on his face. Nosy tilted his head, curiosity thoroughly piqued. What in Merlin's saggy socks had this human been up to? The books in his arms looked ordinary enough, until one snapped at Allan's face, its jagged edges glinting ominously in the dim light. But Allan merely grinned, unphased by the feral tome that seemed determined to eat him whole.

"If you think I look bad, you should see the book!" the wizard grinned, holding up the bleeding menace like a trophy.

Nosy blinked, his eyes flicking between the wild, snarling book and the smug human. Oh, so this red dork wanted to show off? Before him? Before Nosy? Pff. Nosy puffed out his chest indignantly, just like Niffler Mama Will had taught him (though perhaps with more sass than grace). The little Niffler wasn't having this. The sheer nerve! Did that crimson clod think he was impressive? Please, mate. Nosy had defeated a pumpkin monster with his bare paws and his pea shooter just a few weeks ago! What did this guy have? A book? Pathetic!

With a loud and determined honk, the fluffy rascal leapt down, his teal fur bristling as he muttered squeaky curses under his breath, and landed squarely on the face of a mermaid statue at the base of the fountain in front of Allan.

He pointed an accusatory paw at the bitchy book and started to furiously waggle his little arms. The Niffler's gestures grew more dramatic as he mimed the epic battle of him firing his trusty pea shooter and toppling the fierce pumpkin monster all by himself!

Nosy'’'s message was simple. Everything you can do, I can do better. And if this Gryffindor thought he could outshine the Teal King, he had another thing coming.

[drinkingdeadpeopletea]

i love that hieronymous said exactly two lines in that entire episode and one of them was stating the obvious and the other was a totally innocent-sounding statement that also managed to be a lie. he's the perfect character <3

[tojbnuy]

art by @ _3aem on twt!!

bestfriend!satoru who spam comments under all your posts and makes sure to let everyone know that he’s the one who took the pic

bestfriend!satoru who doesn’t ever let your read your books. he lays his head in your lap and demands you read aloud to him.

bestfriend!satoru who’s always kissing your cheeks to say hello and bye bye. sometimes they linger a bit too long but it’s only cos he finds you so cute .

bestfriend!satoru who talks suguru’s ears off about you. every detail about your outfit, the new shade of gloss you had on today, the way your ass looked absolutely perfect in those jeans. frankly suguru is sick of him.

bestfriend!satoru who sulks as soon as he finds out you’re going on a date. he’d lie on your bed with your plushies squished in between his biceps and whine about you being too pretty for this guy.

bestfriend!satoru who waits patiently for your return and can’t help but smile at your tipsy state. clearly date didn’t go too well. he helps you undress, fingers caressing the smooth silky skin of your back as he lets your dress fall.

bestfriend!satoru who gets mad when you say you’re fine to sit in sugurus lap since there aren’t any seats left in the car. he abruptly slams the car door in sugurus face and drags you over to his side. ‘come on baby you don’t sit in anyone’s lap but mine.’ and next thing you know your snug in his lap with his bulky arms wrapped tight around your waist. ‘just to keep you safe pretty.’

bestfriend!satoru who claims ‘one kiss won’t change anything’ and then he’s pressing his plush lips to yours. his tongue making its way into your mouth as his hands pet at the small of your back. ‘course it’s fine we’re best friends’

bestfriend!satoru who towers over you and always has a spare hoodie ready for you because he knows you never wrap up warm. truthfully he adores the way you look in his clothes, his hoodie reaching mid thigh on you and still you had miles of legs left on display. he’s always saying how much he loves your legs but he doesn’t think you know to what extent. plush thighs and a round ass that he had dreamt of far too many times.

bestfriend!satoru who knows it’s sick but everytime you nap in his room he picks you up and places you in his lap. just so he can feel your soft breasts pushed against him. his hands will wander until one of them is squeezing at your ass and the other is stroking the soft skin at your thighs. ‘sorry baby you’re just so pretty when you sleep’

bestfriend!satoru who peeks at you when you’re changing in his room. baby pink underwear with a little bow dotted right at the front.

part 2 !! part 3!! part 4 !!

[sunni-stuff]

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Reader who gets pregnant off of a one night stand with some soldier during armed forces day, showing your appreciation for his service a little too well.

You had a support system, friends who joked about you having way too much fun, hence your predicament, others already offering to buy things for the baby and your parents who couldn't be happier to meet their grandchild.

But what about the father?

Well, it's not exactly like you could track him down. Fuck, you didn't even know the man's name, only how he made you feel, his filthy words strumming in your ear, big hands tight around your waist, hips slamming away in a desperate chase.

Let's forget how you leg-locked him.

When your daughter was born, everything changed, and time slowed down. She was a quiet baby, barely crying or having any outbursts like a normal child would but outspoken in her own little way. That chunky thing came out of the womb with a glare. Brown eyes staring down anyone and everyone but you.

That's something she definitely got from her father. You vividly remember how his umber eyes watching you from across the bar. He was like an eagle waiting for the perfect moment to strike his prey. A perfect soldier.

So, you named your daughter Adira in memory of his strength. That's one thing he could have.

Adira loved to be by your side. Her chubby cheeks pressed into the nook of your neck, holding you close with strength of a thousand babies. Your clingy little thing was a koala, always by her mommy's side, never straying far no matter how curious she got. When she learned to walk, her favorite thing became to hug your leg, especially while in stores. She hated people, wearing a tiny scowl whenever customers passed by tucking herself closer to you.

Maybe it was a good thing her father wasn't around. Having to compete for her first words would've been a bloodbath.

You spent two years in bliss. The fact that you were a single mother an afterthought to raising what you considered a blessing.

With Adira's second Christmas coming up, you wanted to do something special. She loved trains and found them absolutely amusing, often mimicking the honk as she ran around your apartment. Thankfully, there was a train ride for kids around the park during this time of year.

Here, you stood in line, bundled up to the nines. Big poofy coat, warm gloves, and fuzzy boots. As the crowd moved, Adira clung close, arms wrapped around your leg, glowering at any passerby with an annoyed look on her rosy cheeks.

That one was new. Maybe something else she got from her father.

The two of you took steps in tow, keeping Adira close and comfortable as the train came into view. Her expression shifted, excitement palpable. "Twain!" She squealed, jumping up and down.

Before you could respond to Adira's childlike joy, a man bumped into you by accident, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He turns to look at you, blue eyes meeting yours, but you were too focused on the weird ass Mohawk on his head.

People wore still those?

"Sorry bout that lass." The man starts to apologize, a Scottish accent lacing his voice.

That breaks your stare, laughing awkwardly to mask your wandering gaze. "Oh no, it's fine. You should be careful. you might slip on ice."

He nods, giving you a kind smile. The Scottish man starts to leave, but the look your kid was giving him sent shivers down his spine.

Little Adira was giving him a fierce stare down from behind your leg before ultimately cutting her eyes at him as if he were merely a nuisance.

"Next in line! Mctavish!"

The man doesn't stay after that. You assume that it was him they were calling with the way he hurried off. Hope he doesn't fall, seemed like a nice guy.

Soap can't help but do a double take when be gets to the front. The little rascal was wearing his Lieutenants face, hawk eyeing anyone who dared got to close. It was like looking in a mirror.

He nudged Gaz, making a gesture to look back without making it obvious. "See the lass and her bairn in line?"

Gaz gives him a raised brow, looking back for a second before turning around. "There's a lot of kids with their mother's, Johnny."

Soap glances back, double checking to make sure you were still in line. “The lass with the wee one—she’s got the same wicked look as Lt. You cannae miss her.”

Gaz rolls his eyes but humors Soap by looking once more, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on a little girl already mean-mugging him from a distance. He swiftly turns around, blinking in surprise, trying to comprehend what he saw. "Uh..."

Soap only nods in agreement. That was Ghost's face, on a kid no less. He wastes no time, elbowing Roach and getting him to look back as well, leaving the other Sergeant in the same shock as Gaz. "That is not a face a kid should have."

"Agreed." Gaz added, shuddering at the thought.

"Where's the cap?" Soap asks, the train ride no longer feeling like fun now that he’s discovered the jackpot.

"Market place with Lt. for cigs," Gaz knowingly remarked, remembering that Price had run out on their way here.

"Well, let's go show them a Christmas miracle," Soap shot up from his seat all too eagerly.

The sergeants just got their Christmas present.

[logansdoll]

hammered

you get a little too turnt during girls night, and logan comes to your rescue.

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, Logan's your white knight, Ororo's gettin lit, men are creeps, you're actually drunk as a skunk, etc.

"You guys got together?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Ororo gasped, loudly, sitting up straight in her seat.

Your brows furrowed, eyes widening at her volume, a few passing party-goers sharing concerned looks.

"Say it louder. I don't think the rest of the city heard you..." you grumbled, face burning as you took a sip from your strawberry daiquiri.

She sat next to you on the little leather couch situated at the back of the club near the bar, which had began to trickle with activity.

The three of you had been there for only about thirty minutes, the buzz of the night starting to pick up, the dance floor packed with dancers and drinks flowing.

And the eyes, still staring.

"Ignore her, (n/n)," Jean smiled, kindly, as she rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I think it's sweet you two took it at your own pace. It shows how serious you both are about this."

The three of you were having easy conversation, drinking and gabbing about whatever came to mind, when you and Logan were suddenly brought up.

And Ororo nearly died of shock when she found out you two were official.

"And speaking of seriousness... I believe we have an audience..."

Another group of three in particular, whose gazes were piercing you and your friends from across the way.

The three intense pairs of eyes belonged to three men in their best designer.

They each had their own outstanding feature: the tallest one sitting on the right had long, black hair, while the one on the left had arms roped in tattoos and lip piercings, the final one having a buzz cut and a snaggle-toothed smile.

Their lustful stares all but ignored by the two sitting next to you, your mind preoccupied with downing your second daiquiri that soon turned into a third.

You barely paid the men any mind, already knowing a man ten times hotter than all of them combined.

You actually missed him a whole damn lot.

You both were supposed to have a date night, but he got called last minute to round up Rogue and her friends who were causing havoc at some far off arcade.

So the girls dragged you out to the club, much to your protest.

'The kids just had to choose tonight of all nights...'

Ororo scoffed, gulping down another jell-O shot, "Waiting on him to come?" she chuckled, the flashing club lights making her light eyes sparkle.

You flushed in your mini dress, feeling hot despite the blasting AC and your exposed skin.

"You'll be waiting a while," she sighed, crossing her smooth legs over one another. "I heard Scott over the phone... those kids are in serious trouble."

You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed that he wasn't there, resting his hand at the small of your back, giving you those lustful stares on the dance floor, and complimenting your outfits in his own Logan way.

You'd done so much to make sure you looked hotter than hot, too.

You had raided your closet and pulled out a short, backless mini dress that made your legs look longer and showed off the curve of your spine sliding down towards your ass.

You loved, loved, loved it—how beautiful the black fabric looked against your skin; how sexy it made you feel.

Not to mention it was one of Logan's favorites.

He'd torn it off you many times.

Combined with your stiletto heels, fresh mani-pedi, the perfume adorning your wrists and the back of your knees, and hair that gracefully caressed your shoulders, you felt like a damn vixen.

Ororo sat up, taking your hand in hers, "No sense in sitting around while you wait, eh?"

She smirked at you, mischief in her eyes.

"Let's dance."

You paused a moment, hesitant.

But in that instant, those three daiquiris hit you like a truck, and all inhibitions went out the window.

'Fuck it.'

You stood up, chugging the last of your drink before taking her hand.

"Let's do it."

Famous last words.

Smoothly, you glided your fingers up your body, swaying your hips in rhythm with the beat as Ororo danced with one of the men.

You two had been dancing so well, you called the attention of the entire club. And with you about seven daiquiris in, it felt as if the music was coursing through your veins and melding with your bones.

The men of the establishment were hounding you both relentlessly—Jean having escaped to the bar to strike up some friendly conversation with the bartender—and even with your inebriated state, you fought them off vigorously, smacking away hands and returning advances with a sharp tongue.

Though the novelty was beginning to fade, and the urge to go home had began to set in.

As if on que, your phone began to buzz, taking your attention away from your thoughts.

"Hold up! I'm getting a call!" you laughed. "I'll be right back, 'Ro!"

She gave you a wink before you went stumbling off the dance floor, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You decided to go to the nearest ladies' room, leaning against the wall where the long line started, before flipping open your phone.

You looked down at the caller ID, grinning to see the name of your favorite guy on the screen.

"Heyyyy, Logan," you sang into the phone with a drunk giggle.

"There you are," Logan let out a sigh of relief from the other side of the phone. "I've been tryin' to reach ya. I just finished roundin' up the kids and droppin' 'em off back home, so I'm free for the rest of the night if ya still wanna go out."

"Oh!" you chuckled, "Sorry!"

As you paused, Logan suddenly became confused.

"Where the hell are you? It's so loud, I can barely hear ya."

You placed one foot up on the wall, leaning your back flush against the cool tiles. "'Roro 'n' Jean took me to the club 'n' these guys tried to join us," you slurred. "Oh, they bought us drinks, too. And one said he liked my dress. He wasn't as good looking as you."

"You wearin' the backless one?" he asked, sounding intrigued.

You giggled giddily in response, finding humor in his quiet curse.

"Damn... ya had to pull that one out?"

"Oh, you should see me, Logan... I look gooood," you smiled, looking down at yourself. "But it's not the same... s'not as fun without you."

You lowered your foot back down to the ground and crossed your arm over your midsection, suddenly feeling cold and small.

"I miss you, Logan," you said, quietly. "Could you pick me up, please?"

His chest warmed at your tone, unable to fight the smirk on his face.

Despite the fact that you were absolutely sloshed, your mind still drifted to him, and even missed him when he was away.

It was adorable.

"Sure, sweetheart. Where are—?" "Wait!" you shrieked, a smile blooming on your face as you got quiet.

Logan cocked a brow.

'Huh?'

It was your favorite song.

"Logan! It's my song! I'll be right back!" you smile into the phone before hanging up, scrambling back to Ororo.

When you shimmeyed back onto the dance floor, she happily greeted you, moving in sync with the rhythm as you began your own moves.

"Oooo, what's that?" you asked, pointing at the glass she was holding.

It was orange and topped with ice and chopped oranges and strawberries, reminding you of a tequila sunrise.

"Want it?" she giggled, holding it out for you to take.

Which you gladly did, tossing it back lie it was water, humming approvingly at the taste as you licked the remnants off your lips.

The two men next to her were close to falling out from the scene.

"Fuck," one of them groaned. "Can you do that to me?"

You turned to them, brows furrowed. "Fuck off. My guy's gonna be here anyyyyy second."

Ororo gasped as she threw an arm around you, pulling you close to her perfume-soaked neck, "He's coming? That's great!"

You both cheered together, throwing your hands in the air as you continued to dance.

"C'mon," a man smirked from behind you. "What's he doing leaving a pretty lil' thing like you alone?"

Your face fell, expression annoyed as you turned to him, "Didn't I tell you to go somewhere? He's gonna show up sooon..."

The man had gotten closer, so close that you could see him lick his lips, expectantly.

He scoffed, leering down at you under the strobe lights, "But he ain't here, is he?"

"I wouldn't put money on it, bub," Logan replied from behind him.

Your eyes lit up like stars as soon as you laid eyes on your dark, handsome bodyguard.

He stood there behind the man with his thick, leather-clad arms crossed over his broad chest, which was covered by his white tee.

And he looked less than pleased.

"Logan!" you smiled, moving to stand by his side like a magnet.

The man turned to face him, watching as Logan snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"This is the boyfriend?" he laughed, amused.

His words hardened Logan's expression tenfold, and it took everything in you not to giggle.

"Yeah, I am. And why the fuck are you still here?"

His words forced the man's expression to meld into one of frustration, and you bit back an amused smile at the sight.

You were drunk out of your mind, but you knew better than to interfere.

The man swallowed thickly, "I was just—"

"Harrassin' my woman."

You felt your heart flutter at the nickname.

He'd been calling you that for a while, but somehow it always felt like the first time.

"I didn't know she was yours—"

In a flash, his Logan's fist was up, his claws were on display and right in front of the man's face, scaring the shit out of him.

"I don't like repeating myself," he spat, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Fuck. Off."

You both watched the man scatter, eyes wide as he scrambled toward the bar.

Damn.

'What a bitch...'

"You alright?" Logan asked, taking off his leather jacket as he glared around the room, taking notice of the other leering men on the dance floor. "This place is full of fuckin' sleazeballs."

You shrugged, running a hand through your hair, "Eh, I managed."

Wordless, he handed over his jacket, your nose wrinkled in confusion.

"What's that for?"

"You're shivering, (n/n)."

You looked down at yourself, realizing that you were, indeed, shivering.

"Oh."

"C'mon," he sighed, draping the jacket over your shoulders before resting his hand at the small of your back, steering you toward the exit. "I think that's enough fun for one night."

Glancing back at Ororo, he gave a small look, slightly concerned.

"Scott's on his way for you two... You gonna be good?"

"Tipsy, but okay!" she gave him a thumbs up, along with a little wink. "Have fun, you two!"

He ignored the innuendo, but nodded, going back to ushering you out the back door.

"I missed you, Logan," you confessed, a slight whine to your voice as you practically clung to him.

"I know you did, sweetheart," he sighed, approaching one of Cyclops' cars. "Let's get you home."

The moment you hung up the phone, he sped over to the club, breaking about fifteen different traffic laws in the process.

An annoyance he decided to deal with the next day.

Without warning, you grabbed him, shoving him up against a wall of the alley you were in, interlocking your fingers as your free hand traced mindless shapes in his chest.

"You look so good, Logan," you purred, eyeing him up and down with hungry eyes, heating him from the inside out. "So good."

Suddenly, your lips attached to his neck, lazily peppering the flesh with kisses and pecks, with the occasional nip.

"(n/n)... you're drunk," Logan stated, moreso for himself, as he weakly tried to pry you off.

"I'd do this anyway," you grinned into his skin, pulling back to look at him, gaze half-lidded. "You look so sexy..."

Slowly, your lips curled into a hazy, loving smile, your eyes staring up at him like he was the only thing in the world.

Fuck...

You'd think he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

'This woman's gonna be the death of me...'

"What's wrong?" you asked, lips pouty and eyes glassy as you looked up at him, your expression one of hurt. "You're not touching me..."

"Doll," he sighed, voice slightly strained. "As gorgeous as you look... and as much as I wanna pin you against this wall... you're fuckin' hammered. And I'd like to feel you up when you actually know what yer doin'."

He pulled back to see your reaction, only to find you were already out like a light, softly snoring and drooling all over his shirt.

A soft smile fell onto his lips at the adorable sight, the man brushing some of your hair out your face before scooping you up in his arms, pressing a long kiss on your forehead.

'Somethin' else...'

[gallavichsreddie1128]

FWB to Lovers w/ Logan

Description: How Y/N and Logan went from Fuck buddies to Lovers

Warning: Dirty talk

Ever since Y/N, Wade and Logan saved the timeline it has been a known thing that Logan and Y/N had tension and Wade always made it known: “UGH just fuck already Disney can just cut it out of the film.” “What?” 

Y/N tried to hide her feelings at first knowing that Logan probably wanted someone his age and not a younger woman with little to no experience. Boy was she wrong: “Wade’s right. We should fuck.” 

Though he said that drunk, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was sure he wouldn’t remember saying that but the never next day when she just stared at him a little too long she was up against the wall in a second: “We need to hurry before Wade gets back.” 

He was huge compared to her and the size kink was real. For his age he had a nice body and a dick that hit all her special spots: “Fuck. I didn’t even know that spot could be reached.”

He took her on everything in that house. The couch, the wall, the beds (even Wade’s), shower, counter and even on a chair. Wade found out and his reaction wasn’t even surprising: “You guys can’t just fuck on my bed and not let me watch.” 

Y/N was falling hard for the man and Wade could tell. Her stares were no longer just filled with lust but love. She looked at him like he was the whole world and more: “OMG is the Y/N falling in love?” “Shut up!”

Logan was too and that showed when he found out that Y/N and Wade had slept together before. Though Y/N and Logan weren’t together and only supposed to be FWB, He got extremely jealous: “YOU GUYS HAVE SLEPT TOGETHER?” “Duh. Have you seen us? Two hot people fucking is the norm.” 

Y/N and Wade both found it odd that he got mad about that given it was 2 years ago and before any of this. Logan stormed off to his room ignoring them calling his name. Wade looked at Y/N with a knowing look: “Seems like your pussy is a love potion and he had too much of it.” 

Though it wasn’t the best idea, Wade went to talk to him about it. Y/N almost wanted to do it herself but Wade offered and said that he wouldn’t crack jokes about the situation: “Listen peanut, I understand that you have a bad boy reputation to stick too but that hard on you’re showing says you enjoyed the thought of it.” “WADE GET OUT!” 

Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. Her mind was on Logan and how he just stormed out of the room after hearing that they fucked. Did he love her back? She needed to know. She walked to his door and knocked, not caring if he was asleep or not: “Do you love me?” “Y/N, It’s 3 am.” 

He did in fact love her and he should’ve shown it better. Wade always wanted to get under his skin and that’s probably why he mentioned that: “I said that to get you two together. It’s annoying to see you guys act like Blind AL trying to find something.” 

Ok Wade maybe a little too far?

Both of them were idiots for not just admitting how they felt but now it was worth it in the end and Wade was to thank: “I’m not thanking you with Tacos!” “Well aren’t you just ungrateful?”