#Just touch-starved… /lh

[nikki-tine]

XD the way they flustered the power couple. Casper looks like a strawberry. Also seriously. The way the dudes talking, I’m bout ready to take it as a challenge. 25 fingers won’t stop me

(Why am I so competitive)

-🐺♠️

Yeah, yeah, tell that to the 25 looming, wiggling digits and the five holding one of your arms back :3

[x-pair-o-dice-x]

hehehehhooo,,, finally made some drawings for this that i'm content with–

anyway!!! guess who thought of a new au idea yesterday ✨

it follows bench trio– a group of 16-17-ish year-old kids in foster care who decide... actually, fuck this– and run away together. they skip town, and manage to head to different one– one that happens to

when tommy was a kid, maybe six or seven,,, there was this establishment... craft-y creations. it was a toy-store, locally owned, run by one man. all of the toys sold inside, every single one, from plushies to model trains– they were all made by him. tommy could count on one hand how many times he was able to visit the place himself, but though his time there was short... he enjoyed every second of it. to a little kid like him, it almost seemed like the place was magic.

and then something happens... and he's forced into foster care, forced to move towns.

ten years later, he's had enough. so, he and his two best friends decide to run away, skip towns. and as it so happens, they end up right in tommy's old town.

unfortunately... he finds that craft-y creations, in those ten years, has gone out of business. all that remains is a run-down building.

being reckless teenagers(and, in tommy's case, eager to relive fond memories),, the three decide to break into the building...

...and soon finds themselves trapped in a whole heap of trouble.

one of tommy's strongest memories of the place were the mascots that wandered around the place. mainly, two creatures that were over triple his height. nowadays, he had chalked them up to an eager imagination, or perhaps animatronics– maybe even a mascot suit.

that, as it turns out.... is not the case.

the toys have come to life.... and with how they chase them down, they don't seem all that friendly........

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

/ mildly spicy art under the cut! --- sacredshipping ❤️‍🔥

clingy ghost types. 💕

[anonymous-ventss]

Sometimes I think someone beating the shit out of me would fix me

[rainrot4me]

Is it weird to say I wanna treat Brian/Hoodie all gently even though I've read your fics of him and how rough and mean he is /lh.. how would your interpretation of him even respond to that, gentle affection and intimate touch that ISN'T filled with a need to get off, just overall love and care for him.

✦ . jeff the killer

Jeff is used to violence. Roughness. Everything in his world is sharp. So when you sit beside him after a mission and slowly run your fingers through his tangled hair, it’s like tossing a match into a snowstorm.

“…You’re not scared of me?”

You kiss his temple. “Nope.”

“You’re weird.” But he leans in a little anyway.

He’s not sure how to process it at first. He might try to push you away with a crude joke, but the second you stop? He panics a little. Eventually, he starts pretending he doesn’t like it just to keep getting more.

✦ . ticci toby

Toby doesn’t do silence well—but you do. And when you pull him into a hug after a rough night, or press a cool cloth to his forehead after one of his tics flares up, he goes still. Like a wild animal caught in a muzzle.

“Why’re you alw-always so nice to me?”

“Because you deserve it, even when you think you don’t.”

He loves being babied when you do it sincerely. Praise and physical affection? Heaven. He may not say it, but he’ll bury his face in your shoulder and breathe in as if you’re the only grounding thing he has.

✦ . eyeless jack

He’s seen the worst of people—inside and out. The intimacy of medicine is constant for him. So when you clean his wounds, or cup his face despite the lack of eyes, it catches him off guard.

“You don’t have to do this. I can take care of myself.”

“I know. Let me anyway.”

You’re one of the only people who can touch him without fear. He doesn’t always show emotion, but if you catch him resting his head on your lap while you hum softly, just know he’s melting on the inside.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Tim doesn’t like being seen—mask on or off. But when you trace the edges of his jaw, or hold him in the dark and whisper things like “I’m proud of you” or “You’re safe with me”, he cracks.

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“You’re more than what you’ve done.”

He’ll deny needing it, but he’s touch-starved. Praise-starved. When you show up with a clean hoodie and hot coffee? His hands shake just a little. He’s not used to someone loving him without wanting something back.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Brian takes a long time to trust, and even longer to relax. You’d think he’d stiffen at affection—but once he does let you in? He melts under a gentle hand.

You massage his sore shoulders after missions. You patch him up, talk to him softly, and don’t push when he’s quiet. You don’t treat him like a monster. And that’s everything.

You kiss his hand.

He watches you for a long moment, then murmurs, “…You’re gonna ruin me.”

He returns the favor in small ways: your favorite drink left out for you, food prepped, the blanket already warmed in the dryer. Silently saying I love you too.

✦ . kate the chaser

Kate is always on edge. Aggressive, efficient, brutal in the field. But when you offer soft affection—stroking her hair after a fight, pressing kisses to her temple—she melts, privately.

“Don’t coddle me.”

“I’m not. I’m loving you.”

She’s quiet. She doesn’t pull away.

She won’t ask for care, but she needs it more than anyone. You helping her take off bloodied gear? Brushing dirt from her cheeks? Kissing her knuckles after battle? It calms her. Grounds her. And she’ll return the affection with a quiet kind of intensity that never wavers.

✦ . ben drowned

Ben doesn’t get it at first. He thinks you’re messing with him. When you rub soothing circles on his back or call him “sweetheart,” he short-circuits a little.

“You sure you meant to call me that?”

“You’re cuter than you think.”

“…You’re funny.”

Eventually, he becomes your shadow. He lays his head on your chest while you play games together, lets you fix his hair, and maybe even downloads stupid love songs because they remind him of you. (He’ll deny it.)

✦ . clockwork

Natalie is all sharp edges and guarded smirks, but she longs to be held gently. You touch her scars without flinching. You press kisses to her ticking eye like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“You’re too soft for this world.”

“And you’re softer than you pretend.”

She’ll roll her eyes, but her grip on your waist tightens. After the walls come down, she’ll initiate the affection more often—fiddling with your hair, curling into your side, letting you wash the blood from her hands.

✦ . laughing jack

At first? He’s amused. He calls your soft touch “precious” and acts like he’s above it. But when you clean his face after a messy job, and whisper “You don’t always have to be the entertainment,” it hits somewhere deep.

“You’re ridiculous. You know that?”

“So are you.”

He laughs, but this time, it’s soft.

He becomes fiercely protective of you. He doesn’t know how to say thank you, but you’ll wake up to gifts, sweets, and strange little doodles of you two dancing under stars.

✦ . slenderman

It’s hard to imagine being tender with something so ancient and inhuman—but you do. You rest your head against his chest despite the lack of a heartbeat. You touch his hand without fear.

“Your mind is too fragile for this bond.”

“Then let me break a little.”

He doesn’t show emotion the way others do—but he begins to respond. His tendrils wrap protectively around you at night. He communicates comfort through presence, warmth, and silent understanding. You become the only being who grounds him.

꩜ .ᐟ

[minhosimthings]

Concerto in D Major || LHS, 18+

Synopsis: Touch starved. That was one way to describe the fact that you and your husband hadn't uttered more than two words to each other for the past few months. So when your client gives you the opportunity to go shopping for lingerie, who are you to back out from a visit to Heeseung's studio?

Pairings: music producer husband!Heeseung × interior designer wife!fem!reader, mention of Giselle from Aespa

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, 18+, P in v, unprotected sex (zont zo it), oral (male receiving), fingering, overstimulation, sex on a piano (no I am not kidding), lingerie, swearing, mention of food and alcohol

Author's note: This is an extremely late birthday present to my beloved arson murder kitten child Kayz @jaeyunluvr and I mean EXTREMELY late look I got busy procrastinating ok. Also don't question the piano part because i thought of this somewhere around 4 in the morning WHILST drowning in bio experiments so....... Anywho Happy birthday to my baby once again!!

Word count: 8k (forgive me)

The smooth, crimson lining of your new, expensive bra lay ripped on one side of the studio. The lights were dim, and the space was quiet. 

Until the dissonantly melodic sound of multiple keys of a piano being pressed down simultaneously was heard, like some sort of unorganized symphony; it made your ears bleed.

But to your virtuoso husband, Heeseung, nothing had ever sounded more melodic, than the sound of your pretty little moans mixing with the incorrigible notes of his piano.

But however did you even end up in this scenario?

Earlier that day

Your hands absentmindedly traced the empty space beside you on the bed. Judging from the full glass of water that lay on his bed-side table, your husband had clearly forgotten to hydrate himself before going to work—something that you had always scolded him for. 

Rolling over to lay on his pillow, you took in his scent—it lingered somewhere between aged wine and musk. Sunlight crept into the room slowly through the giant French windows, as you scrolled on your phone, checking your emails and a dozen texts from your friends, asking to hang out. 

But you had to politely decline, yet again. Being an interior designer, who—in your proud opinion—was a very important person for the rich and  flamboyant peacocks you worked for, you barely had enough time to sit down. Alright, maybe that was a bit hyperbolic, but it was partly true. You couldn't afford to waste more than an hour or so on extravagant outings. 

The empty space beside you still smelled like him though and you lay there wondering just how long it had been since you and Heeseung even had a nice, long conversation together. 

Everyday was the same routine for you two. Heeseung would wake up first and rush off to his studio, and you'd laze through the day slower; eating breakfast seemed to take up half your time some days. And then it was work and work and work. As a child, the only reason you wanted to become rich was so that you could become prosaic and lay in bed all day. 

But now, as a money-plenty interior designer, with a successful career and an equally successful husband—you wondered when exactly it would be that you got to become a lazy cat basking in the golden sun. Granted, your econ teacher did teach you that richness meant constant maintenance. But she also believed that lizard people secretly ruled the world, so you didn't know how much of everything she said was true. 

It took you fifteen minutes to get up and finish your business in the bathroom; though you had slept for a healthy eight hours, your brain cells were fighting to not fall asleep in the shower—the warm drops of water cascading down your shoulders and relaxing your muscles weren’t really helping either. You made a silent oath to start taking cold showers in the morning. 

Slipping on the first things visible to you in your closet—a pair of baggy jeans, a button up, and the usual nude lipstick—you stared in the vanity for a few minutes before debating on whether to eat or not to eat. In these few minutes of deep fueled thinking, your eyes wavered over your bedside table and you caught sight of the photo frame standing tall on it.

It was a picture a la photoshoot of your wedding day. You thought you looked quite stunning, in a wedding dress that now lay sleeping in your attic. You couldn't find any words to describe Heeseung though. No synonyms of the word ‘beautiful’ was enough to describe how absolutely ravishing he looked. You wanted to pull that stupidly attractive collar of his towards you and kiss him the way the French did. You sighed to yourself as a particularly PG-13 memory of your wedding night popped into your mind. 

Pink lips on your neck, wet kisses down your chest, a hand on your thigh, those gorgeous eyes, Heeseung…

Shaking your head, you kept frowning to yourself as you made your way down to the kitchen. You had a meeting scheduled for the afternoon and you realised that you needed some food in your system to get through it. A smoothie would probably be the healthy option, you decided, opening up your fridge to scour whatever frozen fruit you had left. 

An hour or so was spent organising all the binders you wanted to show your client, after you had consumed your smoothie. You absentmindedly flicked through most of them; half of your brain cells were occupied doing something else.

An image of Heeseung, all comfy between your thighs came into your mind and you shook your head.

Slamming the cover of the binder you were holding down, you hoisted yourself off of the chair and stretched your stiff limbs. Rich men and women spent a lot of time thinking about what their house would look like, and so, you were going to be spending much of your afternoon sitting your ass down on some or the other expensive chaise lounge.

You heard the tinkling of your windchime and you glanced outside. The sky was dotted with light grey clouds and you sighed as you checked your phone to see that it would certainly rain tonight. Heeseung hadn’t even taken an umbrella—which wouldn't have really mattered if he drove home, but you knew he often liked to walk. It—quote unquote—‘gave him inspiration’.

Picking your umbrella up, you moved rather swiftly out to your car, hoping to get today’s meeting done breezily so that you could go see a glimpse of your husband at his studio. Perhaps luck would want to favour you today; you'd get to see your husband, and you had heard that your new client was a straight, get-to-the-point sort of woman. The faster you decide on the style of her windows, the better. 

Who'd ever have known that she would feed you an even better idea? 

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

“Would you like any adjustments to this area?” You ran your finger across the giant square drawn on the white paper, “I do think you’ll get a lot of sunlight in if we change the windows.”

“You know, ever since we’ve sat down—” The woman facing you spoke in a soothing voice, “—all we’ve talked about is the placement of the rooms.” She placed her glass of wine down on the little table and placed her hands under her chin, “How about we talk colours?”

You chuckled and nodded, taking a sip from your own glass. Normally, on such afternoon meetings outside in a little gazebo in a garden, you would be having coffee or any other such conventional drink. But you should have known that Giselle did not prefer conventions, as soon as she announced that her bedroom would face the kitchen. It was really hard for you to even start fathoming as to how you’d ever work that out. But you weren't one to give up.

And so you sat under the old stone gazebo of Giselle’s summer house, sipping wine from Bordeaux and showing her each and every blueprint your drunken brain had come up with at two in the morning. It was honestly a sort of redamancy—drawing all those blueprints; with every new stroke it seemed as if the house was saying to you, ‘Well done, you’ve made me beautiful.’

That’s what Heeseung used to say. As burnt out college students with two very different (yet similar in your own peculiar way), you two often found your own ways of comforting one another through dark times. One of the things Heeseung always told you, whenever you’d criticise yourself far too harshly was, ‘You made the house so pretty.’ It became his sole way of complimenting your designs from that day on. 

An odd way.

 A way to say ‘How lucky am I to have you’.

 A loving way.

“I was thinking of a sort of mauve.” Giselle snapped you out of your train of thought, “Too sexy?”

“Not sexy enough I think.” You laugh with her, “Mauvish-purple would do great for the kitchen, but I was thinking more of a burgundy for the bedroom? Or a deep red?”

“Now that—” Giselle leaned forward and clinked her glass with yours, “—is the perfect amount of sexy.”

Another sip of wine cleansed your palette and you scribbled down the colours on a notepad. Red would have gone amazing with the upstairs lounge, but  hey. Whatever the client wanted, she got. You wondered mindlessly about who Giselle would be inviting into the pomegranate-stained room at the night. Your own Heeseung popped into your mind. The sight of his veined fingers practically disappearing into your pussy.

“You’re married right?” Giselle tilts her head, looking at you with those gorgeous eyes of hers. Confused at her sudden question you nodded, lifting your hand up to show the golden band sleeping on your finger. It had been ages since you'd taken it out for cleaning.

“I was asking to know what colour your bedroom was.” Giselle giggled, “You seem like a very powder blue person.”

“That’s more my husband's style honestly.” You chuckled, “He loves all things blue. Our bedroom though….” You sighed and then chuckled lightly, “let’s just say it's only chocolate brown because I was in my we-gotta-keep-everything-classy era.” Giselle snorted and you smiled, “I wish we painted it burgundy though,” You said longingly, toying with your glass; the dark red liquid within swirled like the eye of a tornado, “Might make him want to come home to his wife every once in a while.”

Your sister had often commented on how much of a lightweight you were when it came to alcohol. You didn't really believe her, but now, seeing as how you just blurted out that depressing hole of a sentence, you considered if you really were a lightweight or maybe they just made alcohol in Bordeus extra boozy.

 To your surprise however, Giselle smirked. “I think I got you covered in that area honey.” She shrugged her shoulders back and breathed in deep, “Alright this meeting is officially over!” She said enthusiastically, placing her glass down with such gusto that you thought she was practically beaming like the sun, “Come on, I'm gonna take you shopping.” 

“Giselle what are you—”

“You are in desperate need of some vitamin D, baby” Giselle leaned forward, her dimples were prominently visible, “And I wanna help you out. Consider it as some extra payback.” With a tiny little clap she got up and extended her hand forward.

You took it and slowly stood up, half confused and half excited. You knew Giselle to be the actual embodiment of spontaneity, so while you were expecting her to do something big and bold, you were expecting that to be in the matter of her house and certainly not in your sex life. 

But something about the way you had been thinking about him all day, the way you were practically itching to just get a whiff of his alluring scent and the way Giselle’s eyes sparkled eagerly made you get in your car and go on a drive to shop for stuff that you hadn’t paid attention ever since you had graduated.

But after all these years, would Heeseung still prefer red?

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Heeseung’s shoulders were as stiff as stones by the time he finished with the project he had started on weeks ago. It would have been completed about three days ago, were he not struck down with a sudden bout of writer’s block. He sighed quietly into the silent night and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying not to fall asleep. 

Heeseung had received a slightly worrying message from you earlier in the evening. It consisted of two short sentences; I’ll be coming. Don’t walk back; a far stray from your usual texts.

Had he forgotten something? Probably not your birthday since that was a month ago, Valentines was in February and you two had disappointedly not done anything special, anniversary was still days away.

So what could have prompted his darling, beautiful wife to send him such a monotonous text?

Heeseung sighed again and glanced at the photo frame collecting far too much dust on his desk. A wave of emotion suddenly flooded his mind and body as he stared at your beautiful smiling face. How long had it been since he had even kissed you properly? He wiped a stray tear from his cheek and took in a shaky breath.

The most ridiculous thought had popped up in his mind when he had first received your text. It was something that he had promised himself—on the day after your wedding—never to think about. What if you finally felt that it was time to serve him the divorce papers?

Heeseung had to admit that it wouldn't come as a surprise considering how little you two had spent time in the past…..

Great.

He couldn't even remember the last time you spent time together.

What an amazing husband he was.

Letting out a tired groan, he leaned forward to rest his throbbing head on his desk. He was practically counting down every second until you arrived at the doorstep. 

Heeseung smiled to himself. Though he was dreading whatever you were going to tell him when you arrived, he also couldn't wait to stare into the beautiful abysses of your eyes again, a chain of stars enveloping them just as they had done ever since he had met you. 

Taking a quick glance around his studio, he was utterly confused for a moment when he saw that it was relatively cleaner than it usually was. And then he remembered how he had spent his time the two days before, deep cleaning the entire room in order to break out of the musical rut he was stuck in.

Tap, tap, tap.

The quietness of the space was suddenly interrupted by three gentle knocks on the studio door. Heeseung’s eyes shot open and his hand unconsciously drifted up to his hair, running his fingers through it to make sure he looked not half dead or sleep deprived. He took a deep breath that did nothing to soothe his nerves and slowly walked to the door. His hand rested on the handle for a minute before he opened the door. 

Heeseung was famously known among the music community to be the kind of man every woman needed. This fact was illustrated by how he always looked at you as if you were the only person in the world. The paparazzi photos of him were embarrassingly cute (Your words, not his); big doe eyes staring at his wife, admiring her like an artist admired his muse. For him, it was true. The air did always change when you stepped anywhere near a 10 metre radius of him. 

“Baby….” Heeseung breathed out, it felt like he hadn't said that word in ages, “Come in.” 

The familiar scent of lemon and roses floated into his nostrils and Heeseung felt as if he had been transported back in time. To a scene where nothing could go wrong. Small stems of baby’s breath decorated your hair and the sun kissed your face so perfectly. 

Heeseung hoped fervently that the poetic romance of that day did not evaporate into the Heavens.

“Hey.” You mumbled, placing your arms awkwardly by your side; your moss green double breasted coat didn't have deep-enough pockets and you didn't know what to do with your hands, “Why does everything look weirdly clean?” You smiled faintly at the cleared out desk and Heeseung swore his heart skipped a beat or two. 

“Just…” He trailed off, tracing his eyes over your beautiful features, “Couldn't think, so I guess the Marie Kondo within me leapt out.”

A small laugh escaped your lips and you realised your vision was fixed on the floor. You wanted to look up at him, admire each and every line that formed his magnificent countenance and throw yourself onto him, like you used to. But you remained fixed in your space, not daring to make the first move, lest your luck got thrown off. 

“Wanna sit down?” Heeseung’s voice was coy, careful—as if he was talking to a ticking time bomb. You merely nodded and sat down on the grey couch in the corner, while Heeseung pulled his swivel chair close so that he faced you. The atmosphere was tense and the bubble of anxiety between the both of you was waiting patiently to pop.

“So..”

“So?” Your voice tipped on the higher pitch and your eyes flickered up to finally look at him. God he was absolutely magnificent, his hair a mess, his skin like a sculpture and his eyes…..You couldn't even begin to describe them. You were leaning forward with your arms propped on your knees; the distance between you and him was very little.

“Hee I—” Your breath hitched when you met his eyes, “I just wanted to come over and um…..” You had the sentence in your head—you wanted to talk about how the both of you hadn't been a married couple lately. But for some reason you couldn't get the stupid words out of your mouth. You took a deep breath and straightened your back as you often did when you spoke to clients, but before you could start—

“I’m sorry.” Heeseung’s voice sounded heartbreaking, “I am so sorry that I haven't been paying attention to you lately, doll.” You could see him fighting back the tears, “I will do anything to make up for lost time. Anything.” He reaches his hand up and caresses your cheek, you melt into his touch like soft ice cream on a summer day, “I love you so much, you know that right? So please…” The air between you completely changes as he slips off the chair and sits on his knees in front of you, holding your hands so tightly in his and looking up at you with eyes filled with nothing but adoration, “Please don’t leave me.”

It didn't take a second’s more thought for you to throw your arms around him, tightly holding him as if he'd float away and this moment would evaporate into the darkness if you let go. He smelled like soft cherry scented shampoo and all of a night’s dreams. And by god had you missed that so much.

“I will never leave you.” You whispered gently into his ear, “I think I love you too much to do that.” Heeseung’s grip around your body was comforting, and though you didn't want to, you pulled back to look at him.

Heaven is often described as a place on Earth. 

A place. 

To you, Heaven couldn't be farther than a physical place. Heaven was more of a feeling, an emotion, something you could never actually touch but could only experience as a moment that rushed past you faster than you could blink. Heaven could be long-lasting as well. Or at least as long as you ran out of breath. 

Heeseung's soft lips felt like warm cream on yours, along with whatever he had been drinking earlier. Red wine, most probably, his ears were flush red, and he completely overtook you. His hands around your body, pulling you closer and closer by the moment, leaving no space for hesitation between the both of you, as if he were saying "I am yours, you are mine, of what worth is the wavering air between us?"

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh had you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showered you with gentle kisses. He traced your skin again and again—feeling the way you relax further into his hold. In that moment, you felt as if you trusted him with everything you had; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep.

Till death do you part, a small voice rang in the back of your head, which had you pulling back from the kiss to look at him one more time. Even if you'd have an eternity more to stare at those tantalising features of his, you'd cherish every single time you did.

“I love you.” The three simple words flowed from your mouth, and though to you it sounded like a 13 year old girl’s confession on Valentine's, it brought the biggest grin to Heeseung’s face.

“I love you too, doll.” Heeseung chuckled, caressing your face once more, “You wanna get back home and cuddle?” 

While the thought of eating some week-old leftovers and cuddling while watching some shitty rom-com felt like a dream, you had other ideas in mind. And you weren't about to waste any of the knowledge that Giselle had provided you with through her many lectures all afternoon.

“Actually—” You pulled your hand from him and pressed it to the first button of your coat, “I was thinking we could do something else.” Your fingers toyed with the button enough to pull it away. The sight of your chest and collarbone made Heeseung freeze as the top half of the coat fluttered off. The beautiful red lace made your skin (and your boobs) pop, as if it were made specifically for you. Heeseung didn't know if it was his touch-deprived mind doing it, but you looked like an actual Goddess. 

“I mean, it’s alright if you don't want to.” You said, slightly panicked by his frozen expression, “I just wanted to—”

You didn't get to finish your sentence, before he was all over you. His chest was solid heat against you, his weight pressing you into the couch like he’s making sure you stay there. Your breath catches, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven movements as you try to process just how quickly the shift between you has turned into this.

“You’re the hottest fucking wife, you know that?” he muttered through clenched teeth, his voice a growl of frustration and something deeper, something rougher. His breath fanned against your ear, hot and unsteady, sending a shiver down your spine.

The room was dimly lit, the glow from Heeseung’s reading lamp cast a golden hue throughout the room. The air was thick with his scent, the sharp smell of age old rum, and the lingering traces of your perfume. Heeseung leaned in again, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw, hesitant yet certain. You tilted your head slightly, your breath warm against his lips. The weight of the day melted away as his hands found you, grounding you in the present, in him.

Your mouths met, slow at first, testing, teasing. Your hand curled around the back of his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space left between the both of you. The couch creaked underneath as he shifted, pressing you deeper into the cushions, your bodies tangled in the heat of the moment.

“I’ve missed this..” Heeseung vaguely mumbled, but you didn't answer him. You don't really need to—the way your body reacted to his touch was enough evidence for him to conclude that you had missed this too.

His fingers traced the second button of your coat, ghosting over the bare skin of your upper stomach. You exhaled sharply, your body arching into him in response. Your hand fiddled with the button until the coat skipped off from your shoulders, leaving you completely exposed in front of him.

You pulled away just enough to meet his gaze, your lips swollen, eyes dark with something unspoken. He cupped your face, thumb running over your cheek, and smiled. "You're trouble," he murmured, voice thick with want, “A whole lot of trouble.” His eyes traced hungrily over the red lace decorating your chest.  

“I thought you liked trouble.” you grinned, pulling him back down. "Isn’t that why you married me, Mr Lee?”

You could feel his hard boner nudge your aching pussy through the brand new red lace panties. His desire to be touched, the absolute starvation that lingered within the deepest crevices of him, it all rose up as soon as he laid his eyes on you. And the lingerie only made it worse.

The red lace set was a masterpiece of elegance and allure. The bra, crafted from delicate floral lace, caught your eye as soon as you had walked into the store earlier that day. It featured sheer cups that teased with just the right amount of transparency, scalloped edges tracing the curves of the décolletage, while thin, adjustable straps added a touch of softness to the sultry design. Heeseung’s eyes were yet to leave your cleavage.

The matching panties mirrored the bra’s intricate lace pattern, hugging your hips with a blend of seduction and comfort. A thin band of satin encircled your waist, dipping into a cheeky cut at the back that left just enough to the imagination of the man whose wedding band shone against your skin. The tiny satin bow propped right in the middle proved to be a final, irresistible detail in a set made to captivate. 

The air between you was thick with anticipation, charged with the quiet electricity that only years of love and desire could cultivate. It carried a quiet hum of anticipation, thick with unspoken words and the weight of a shared desire that had simmered beneath the surface all evening. His hands rested lightly on your hips, fingers brushing over the delicate lace of the lingerie. The deep red fabric was a stunning contrast against your skin, a sinful temptation in itself. 

“May I?”

Heeseung’s touch was slow, reverent, as though he were unwrapping something fragile and precious. His fingertips traced the lace-covered curve of your waist, the smooth dip of your belly, and the gentle rise of your ribcage. You inhaled sharply, your body reacting to his touch before your mind could catch up. Heeseung was delighted about how he could feel the way your breath stuttered, the way you leaned into him, silently urging him forward.

He lifted his hands to your shoulders, his thumbs skimming your collarbones before curling around the thin straps of your bra. Slowly, almost teasingly, he slid them down, watching as the lace loosened against your skin. The bra clung for a moment before slipping, gravity taking over, baring you to him in a way that made his breath hitch.

His lips followed the path his hands had taken, leaving slow, lingering kisses against your shoulder, the sensitive skin of your neck. You shivered, your fingers tightening in the fabric of Heeseung’s shirt as though you needed something to hold on to. He took his time, letting his mouth explore, tasting the warmth of you, feeling the slight tremors that rippled through you as his lips moved lower.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice hushed, thick with something deeper than mere admiration. 

You sighed into him, tilting your head back to give him more access, surrendering to his touch. Heeseung let his hands roam, relearning every curve, every dip, every soft plane of your body as though he had never touched you before. He wanted to savor this—you, this moment, the anticipation coiling in between like a viper.

His hands slid lower, skimming over your midriff before tracing the edge of your panties. The lace was delicate beneath his fingers, but not nearly as delicate as the way you trembled under his touch. He leaned back for a moment, just enough to let his eyes roam over you, drinking in the sight of you. You were breathtaking, and he wanted to make sure you knew it.

You reached for him then, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, desperate to close the mere inches of distance. Heeseung let you pull it over his head, let your hands explore the warmth of his skin, the hard lines of his chest. Your touch was embarrassingly eager, filled with quiet urgency, like a girl about to lose her virginity. But Heeseung was determined to take his sweet time.

Gently, he caught your wrists, stilling your movements. “Let me, darling.” he whispered, his voice low, rough with restraint. Something he knew turned you on.

Heeseung’s hands smoothed over your thighs, tracing slow circles as he kissed his way lower, lingering over the places he knew would make you shiver. Years of marriage made him an expert in navigating your body—he knew all your….special spots better than you did. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down just enough to expose the delicate skin beneath. Heeseung paused, savoring the moment, watching the way your breath quickened, the way your fingers curled into the sofa. 

And then, with aching slowness, he slid the lace down, inch by inch, kissing each new bit of skin revealed to him. He let the fabric pool at your feet, his hands following the path of the lace before he finally looked up at you, his expression dark, filled with quiet worship.

Heeseung had you pressed against the backrest of the couch, bare in every aspect—your body, your soul and your naked heart, all out for him to take care of. He kissed you again, deep and slow, pouring everything into the moment—the love, the hunger, the devotion that burned just beneath the surface.

“Mine.” he murmured possessively against your lips, and you smiled, your fingers tangling in his soft, soft hair as you pulled him down once more.

He’s close, impossibly close, his warmth pressing against you like a promise. His breath was hot against your neck, teasing the sensitive skin there before he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss just below your ear. You shuddered, anticipation thrumming through your veins, your fingers digging into the skin of his back as his lips traced a path lower, grazing along your collarbone.

"That eager, huh baby?" he murmured, his voice rough, threaded with something dark and deep. Your breath caught as his hands explored—mapping the soft planes of your stomach, the curve of your hips—before dipping lower. His fingers brushed at your entrance, a feather-light touch that left you aching, needing more.

You shifted, your body instinctively pressing into him, silently pleading for his touch. Heeseung chuckled, a low, knowing sound that sent heat pooling deep within you. "So impatient." he said, his fingers slipping in a bit, only a bit. You knew how much your husband likes to tease— it always drove you mad and right now, it made you positively insane.

"Heeseung..." you whispered, your voice barely more than breath, "Don't tease."

He pressed his lips to yours, claiming you in a kiss that stole the air from your lungs. His fingers finally slid in, finding you wet, ready, desperate for him. His touch was slow at first, torturously so, teasing along your folds, spreading the heat of your desire. Your hips arched, seeking more, but he held you firm, dictating the pace, savoring every reaction.

You were lost, fluttering eyes fighting the fog, the way he reached into your guts. It had you struggling and gasping. It’s practically pathetic how high he could get you only with his fingers. But hey, you were a girl whose pussy hadn't been touched in ages. You were bound to enjoy the thrill of the chase.

When Heeseung’s fingers curled tight round your innards, thick digits pressing dimples into your hole, you finally started to snap into reality. 

“Yeah, baby,” he laughed down into your face, teeth glistening in the soft light, “I'm here, i’m here.” He breathed against your lips, his fingers dipping inside you, curling just right, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your core, “So tight for me fuck…”

Your body responded instantly, tightening around him, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he moves, stroking, coaxing you higher. Each movement was calculated, designed to pull you apart, to draw pleasure from you like a song only he knows how to play.

His mouth trailed down your throat, his free hand cupping your face, keeping you close as he drank in every gasp, every moan that spilled from your lips. He moved with purpose now, his rhythm deepening, his thumb circling your most sensitive spot, pushing you closer to the edge.

You're lost in him, drowning in sensation, in the way he worships you with every touch, every whispered word. Your body tightened, pleasure coiling deep within you, and he felt it—felt the way you were unraveling beneath him. You hadn't had an orgasm in so long, and he knew it. And boy wouldn't he love to give his pretty wife what she wanted.

"Let go for me, pretty girl," he murmured, his voice thick with need, with reverence.

And you do.

The pleasure crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming, your body trembling in his grasp as he guided you through it, his touch never wavering. Heeseung watched you, eyes dark with hunger and something deeper, something that speaks of love, of devotion, of forever.

A soft whimper tumbled from your lips, and you bit down hard on your bottom lip, the rest of the sound dying in your throat. His fingers pulled on your hair, and the sharp tug sent a jolt straight to your cunt. You tried to choke back the reaction, but it was impossible—the way he was holding you, the way he was pressing into you with every word, every move.

As the aftershocks faded, he pulled you close, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, his hands tracing soothing patterns over your skin. You melted against him, breathless, sated, utterly his.

"Why are you looking at me that way, doll? Something wrong with my face?" Heeseung asked, tilting his head to the side. You reached up and cupped the side of his face, staring into his eyes, wholly lost in them. 

Your name from his lips made your brain fuzzy, affecting you more than any alcohol. You tried to get the image out of your head, but you couldn't. How good he’d look trembling, with your mouth around him. How gorgeous he’d seem with his hands tangled in your hair, begging you to let him cum. The floor of the studio wasn't carpeted with the finest material for nothing. 

Sliding off the sofa, you knelt between his legs in one swift motion. As you leaned into him, your hands tracing slow, languid patterns along his thighs, he was already watching you with that heavy-lidded gaze, the one that sent heat curling low in your stomach, the one that told you exactly what he wanted without ever needing to say a word. 

Slowly, deliberately, you reached for his belt, your movements unhurried, savoring the way anticipation coiled between them. The sound of the buckle coming undone was sharp in the quiet room, followed by the soft rasp of the zipper as you eased it down. He exhaled, long and slow, his legs spreading just a little wider in invitation.

You smiled against his skin, kissing lower now, your lips brushing across his hip, feeling the way his breath hitched every time you moved. You loved this—this slow unraveling, this delicious build-up of tension.

Your hands moved with practiced ease, freeing Heeseung from the confines of his clothing, and when you  finally touched him, his breath came out in a shudder. You glanced up, meeting your husband’s gaze, and the heat you found there sent a thrill through you. There was something raw in his expression, something hungry, and you loved knowing that you were the one who put it there.

You looked up at him, lips curling into a teasing smile as your fingertips traced slow, lazy patterns along his length. He exhaled, his hand brushing through your hair, fingers weaving gently through the strands. The anticipation was electric, charged with unspoken promises.

“Fuck baby..” Heeseung sighed, you could hear a tinge of frustration in his voice, “don’t keep teasing me.”

You tilted your head, your lips curling as you let your fingers press just a little firmer, “Am I?” you  whispered, knowing full well the answer.

Every movement was slow, intentional—a silent conversation, where words were unnecessary. You took your time, reveling in the way he responded to you, in the way his breath came heavier, in the soft sounds he made that sent shivers down your spine. There was something intoxicating about this power too, about the way you could unravel him with the simplest of touches.

“Scared, doll?” Heeseung mused, “You haven't had much practice in a long time.” That cocky smile of his drove you off your rocker, but you kept your pride. You could see the way his fingers flexed against the couch as he surrendered to the pleasure of your touch, of your devotion to this moment. 

You pressed a kiss to his aching tip, lingering for a moment, breathing him in. Tracing the tip of your nose along the line of his cock, you felt the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the way his fingers curled just a little tighter against your scalp. You grab the base of his cock, giving it a slight squeeze to draw more noises out of the man. Satisfied by a little grunt, you snicker and open your mouth, taking his tip into it eagerly.

And then in less than a second, Heeseung’s entire world turned turtle.

His head fell back against the couch, a soft curse slipping from his lips as your mouth hugged his dick so fucking perfectly, your pace unhurried, but deliberate—just how he liked it. You watched the way his chest rose and fell, the way his fingers flexed against your scalp, the way his thighs tensed beneath your hands.

His hands found your hair, his fingers sinking into the soft waves. The warmth of his skin against your scalp sent a shiver through you, and you exhaled slowly, your own pulse quickening in response to his.

All he cared for was the feel of your wet mouth all the way down him, spit drooling down his cock. You were doing so well and he wanted you to know.

“Fuck.” He jolts, head tipping back and eyes shutting happily. You focus on only the tip for a moment, swirling your tongue around the head and collecting the embarrassing amount of precum before sinking your head down and taking as much of his length as you can.

"You wanna take me deep, huh?" he grunted, clutching onto your hair and holding you down. You gagged around him. He chuckled. "I'm not even all the way in there. You got room for more, pretty girl?"

You dragged your mouth up, taking a deep breath and nodding. You wiped your mouth from the mess you made and went in again. 

You sputtered for a moment, but regained your bearings and start to move. His tip was hitting the back of your throat as if urging you to take more, but you physically couldn't.

The sound of him—the quiet groans, the way his breath stuttered every time you did something new—sent warmth pooling low in your stomach. you could feel your own pulse thrumming wildly, your own skin burning with the same desire you were coaxing from him.

Minutes stretched between you, each moment thick with heat, with whispered curses and barely contained restraint. He was holding on, trying not to let go too soon, trying to savor the moment as much as you were.

“Look at you, baby.” Heeseung praises, lifting his hips up to encourage you to take him. You were resting your head on his thigh and taking a moment, but the sight of him literally aching for you has you moving quickly.

You took him again and again, deeper, bobbing him in your throat until he was a grunting and groaning mess. His hips moved of their own accord, shoving himself in even when there was nowhere else to go.

But the sounds of gagging, of his balls slapping against his own thighs as he moved, of the moans coming out of you were enough to almost have him finishing in your mouth. Almost. 

You could feel him trembling now, his control slipping, his breath coming in shorter, sharper bursts. you  curled your fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand from your hair and lacing their fingers together, grounding him as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

He wanted to, boy did he, but he wouldn't, not until your cunt had swallowed him. 

Heeseung pulled you up, letting you release him with a pop. "Want to be inside, need to be inside." When you looked up, his eyes were heavy-lidded, his expression utterly wrecked, and the sight of it sent another wave of warmth flooding through you.

He reached for you then, pulling you up, guiding you into his lap, his hands strong and steady as they settled against your hips. His forehead rested against yours, his breath still uneven, but his voice was soft when he finally spoke.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. He really had been neglecting you. Work, stress, life—it all got in the way. But tonight, he was going to make it up to you. He was going to fuck you like he should have all along. 

“You wanna have some real fun baby?” Your husband tilted your head up with a finger under your jaw. His eyes darted to his side, prompting you to look.

Oh, you exhaled, of course. 

His definition of fun was never going to be anything sane. The grand Steinway piano sat in the corner of the room, dark black wood shining like a rockstar even in the dim light. It was perhaps the most expensive thing you had ever gifted him, the gold standard of pianos that you had bought with the first ‘big’ job you had ever done.

“Does this fun involve possibly destroying a very expensive instrument?” You chuckled breathily. The smug (extremely hot) smirk decorating Heeseung's face answered your question. 

“You know, I’ve been stuck with writer’s block for a while,” Heeseung got to his feet, hoisting you up in his arms, and walking so very slowly to the polished piano in the corner of the tranquil studio. "Wanna give me some inspiration doll?" The wooden piano bench creaked dangerously under the weight of them both, Heeseung's body already reacting to the mere air of you.

He ran his palms across your perked up nipples, leaning forward, and stroking your wet entrance with his fingers, his tongue exploring your mouth. You sighed against him, pressing against his fingers, and hummed, being pulled like a puppet by the music in your mind.

You moaned softly as he slipped a rough finger past the warm, wet, slick walls of your slippery pussy. His heat rose when he heard a whimper escape your throat. You wriggled backward, grinding your hips, desperate for him to fuck you.

You gasped, your body arching against his. "Heeseung, oh!” He rubbed his slick fingers against your entrance. You shivered, your breath hitching as he pushed one finger inside you, then another, stretching you gently. 

You were so fucking sensitive, it drove Heeseung to bits and pieces, like a melody he couldn’t quite figure out. Your body jerked with each touch as he leaned in, his lips finding your warm skin. He teased and licked as his fingers moved faster, deeper, pushing you back to the edge. You moaned, your hips writhing, chasing his touch like a madwoman.

“Fuck baby,” Heeseung smiled at you—the kind of smile that only made you want to sink your teeth into him, “Already so close?” As if he hadn't already massacred all your senses enough, he proceeded to bite down on your shoulder, his cock pressing against you, "Yeah, that's it.” He praised as tiny, breathless whimpers escaped your mouth. “Sing for me, love. Show me how you feel."

"Please," you moaned, your voice a haunting harmony to him, your eyes locked onto his. He grinned, his hips moving just enough to tease you. He rubbed the head of his cock against your vulva, making you gasp. "Heeseung, please please pleasee..." you begged, your body squirming beneath him.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. "Use your words, doll" he whispered, his voice a low growl. He rubbed his cock against you again. "Tell me what you want me to do to you." He kissed your neck, his sharp teeth nipping at your skin.

"Fuck me," you moaned, your body arching against his. "I want you to fuck me, Heeseung. Hard."

“That’s a good girl.” Heeseung rubbed the head of his cock against you, slicking it effortlessly through your folds, “Look at you, using your big girl words.”  You didn't even feel it, as you reached for him, your hands grabbing his back, trying to pull him into you. He chuckled, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand. 

With his fingers, he grabbed your head, and gently pulled your hair, before kissing you. The first contact was delicate. A brush, a pause, and then a deeper press — warmer, with purpose. His mouth parted slightly, inviting you in. The kiss deepened, becoming fuller, more molten. Your lips moved in rhythm, a tender push and pull, like waves tugging at the shore. There's a soft sigh — quiet but involuntary — as your mouths open wider, tongues meeting in slow, liquid strokes that spoke of longing. 

Your eyes rolled back, as he buried his cock deep inside of you; you could feel him everywhere—your legs, your chest, your heart. You whimpered softly, bit your lip, and started moving your hips in sync with his. 

The piano keys banged and sang, but it was your voice that Heeseung wanted to hear. He bit gently into your flesh again, completely drunk on your very being. His fingers dug into you, your body slamming into the piano with every thrust.

 Heeseung’s teeth kept nibbling on your neck, a low groan escaping his throat. He released your wrists, letting your arms wander about as your right eventually found his back and your left, a portion of the piano, pressing down in an attempt to balance yourself.

The melody began somewhere in an erratic G minor, warm and lush — like his velvet fingertips tracing your skin. Your left hand, desperately pressing on random keys played slow, pulsing, mixed up chords, deep and resonant, like a steady heartbeat in the dark. There’s space between the notes — a deliberate pause, a breath held just a moment too long.

Your nails dug into his back, possibly drawing blood, as he picked up the pace, his hips slamming against yours, his cock driving deep into you. You met his thrusts with practiced precision, your body still remembered perfectly each and every session he had ever given you—whether it be a soft lovemaking hour on a lazy morning, or an unrestrained conclave of your bodies after a rough night. 

There was no give in his piston-force thrusts, only the relentless pounding of his cock inside you, stretching you, filling you completely. Your breath came ragged, your body slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of lust. The sound of a glorious harmony filled the room, being played by the orchestra that was the yearning moans escaping from the both of you, and the dissonantly melodious sounds coming from the piano.

Heeseung released your hips, his hands sliding up to your breasts, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. He leaned back, his cock never stopping its punishing rhythm, and looked down at your body, trembling under the intensity of it all.

The air around you was forgotten, your bodies the only instruments in the room. Heeseung thrust harder, faster—like a man starved of touch. You met him thrust for thrust, your body arching against his. He could feel your pussy tightening around him, your body on the blissful edge of release. You all but screamed, chanting his name over and over again and again like a broken record.

“t-too much, Hee-, n-no” and it’s a broken, desperate cry, hands violently pawing at the backs of his thighs when he shoves himself meters into you. 

"Aww poor baby." he said , his hands moving to your thighs, he could see his cock slipping in and out of you, glistening with your arousal, "Tired?" It wasn't a sweet coo, it was a harsh taunting, a mere joke to him to watch your eyes cross, and roll. 

You could  feel every ridge, every vein, the way the tip of his pretty cock layed sweet frenchies against your cervix. The world blurred into nothing—no time, no place, just the rhythm of your breaths, the hum of your connection. The taste of your skin, the way your fingers dug into his back, the soft sighs and quiet gasps—it was intoxicating.

Heeseung pulled back, his eyes locked onto you. He could feel his own orgasm building, his balls tightening with each thrust.

You reached up, your hands grabbing his face, pulling him down to you. "Cum with me," you moaned, your body bucking against his. "Cum inside me, Hee— oh fuck!" His cock throbbed at your words, his pace spiralling out of control.

Heeseung leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. "That's it," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "That's it, pretty girl—cum all over me." You moaned loudly into his mouth, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Everything outside your body fades, time distorts, a shiver crawls up your spine, electric, deliciously unbearable. 

“Heeseung!” You cry out, as your muscles tense, “Oh god, i love you i love you i love you!” You had no idea what you were saying, as you completely melted into him.

"I love you too, pretty girl," he said, his voice a low murmur. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a soft, gentle kiss. 

A wave crashes over the both of you—not harsh, but engulfing. Melodic moans escape from your bodies, as any inkling of rational thought dissolves. It is both explosion and surrender — a collapsing inward, a bright and shattering release that leaves only breath and heartbeat behind.

“Fucking hell…” Heeseung breathed slowly, the after-shock of the intense orgasm hitting him. He almost collapsed onto you as he pulled out slowly.

He could feel your heart pounding against his chest, your breaths ragged and uneven. A comfortable silence filled the room, a quiet that hummed through the bones. What remained was a familiar sort of softness. A kind of completion that language could only ever chase.

“I love you.” Heeseung broke the silence first, resting his forehead on yours, “I love you a lot.” A giggle came from his lips as he peppered kisses all over your face—a complete contrast to the way he was handling you about five minutes ago.

"I love you too, Hee." You whispered against his lips, a mischievous smile creeping up on your face, “Round two?” 

A low chuckle rang through your ears.

“Round two.” Heeseung chuckled lowly, "But this time..." his hands and body left you momentarily as he reached over to his desk, pressing the big red button that said 'RECORD' on it.

"You don't mind if I use your voice for the new album, do you baby?

fin.

© 2025— all rights reserved to user minhosimthings, do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my works

[the-s1lly-corner]

goob with a reader who is incredibly touch-starved. like, they want affection so badly but are god awful at actually asking for it or indicating it

no im not projecting

anyway your writing is tasty goodnight

Goob x reader who is touch starved but doesn't ask for affection

Ooouugh I'm tired I'm tired I'm sleepy and eepy aOuuuuUUUGH edit i wrote that opener when i was tired and sleepy. i am not longer tired and sleepy lets fucking GOOOO

Notes: gn toon reader, can be seen as pre or post game, short and sweet, written on computer, reader is kind of awkward when it comes to expressing their needs

CWs: none

youre lucky goob is so... well affectionate- the only time he really tones it down is when a toon asks him to do so... otherwise hes gonna smother you any chance he gets!

okay maybe not smothering... but hes gonna pull you into side hugs in passing in the hall, ruffling whatever hair or fluff you have on your head... or really just rubbing his hand on the top of your head if youre smooth, hell he'll even give you handshakes... high fives... even fist bumps if there isnt enough time to hug you! and YES! he will make a secret handshake for the two of you!

if anything you might have to ask him to tone it down!/lh

the only reason he might slow down the affection with you is if an outsider tells him he might be making you uncomfortable- and their comment is unsolicited of course- but the way you kind of jolt and freeze when he loves up on you does worm some doubt into the toon...

its not that you dont like the affection- its just that youre so unused to it that you dont know how to take it without recoiling or going stiff in some way. you dont know where to put your hands or how to have your face....

even if you do bring yourself to mumble out a shy request for a hug or try awkwardly initiating goob might be hesitant... cases like this its best to be straight forward and blunt because otherwise hes probably going to think youre just trying to please him

and ooooooh..... he so badly wants to help you feel better now that hes got the full picture. why do you feel like you cant ask for affection? even if its out of pure shyness instead of something deeper hes going to ache for you- he never ever wants you to feel like youre being a bother for asking for some loving

of course his touch had love before but theres this new tenderness to it after the talk- its kind of like hes trying to cut back enough to help you grow accustomed to it before going back to how it was before

baby steps

silent invites to come wrap your arms around him for a cuddle... light prodding.. things to help ease you into becoming more comfortable with seeking it without outright asking you

[idv-sunsxin3]

Vincent Charbonneau // Random Dating HCs

{Dead Plate and characters belong to Studio Investigrave}

Note// I'll rather put this as GN! S/O, despite that he's canonly gay. Just so i can at least dream😒😔/ih. Also, the headcanons might include Vince being unhinged and obsessive, so you're now warned. Vincent may or may not cook... suspicious things for you.

•Having a bond with him where you both start dating happens after having this slowburn process(and after you managed to make him not kill you to turn you into food or something, lol)

•Once you become lovers, it's an automatic option that he would decide to cook for you. Giving you lunch and dinner during and after your shifts.

•He always offers to let you stay over for the night, and then insists for you to not leave too soon by bribing you with more food on the table---(if it's not enough, he'll make sure he'll give you money, service, and so much love---) At that point it almost looks like he wants you to move in(which he doesn't mind about that option either-- he'll be concerningly more than happy)

•For such a stoic face, he is pretty touch starved and attention seeking once he starts to experience intimacy with a lover for the first time in a long while-- but he'll only show it behind closed doors, since he has pride and a reputation to secure lol;;😒😔

•He hasn't played the cello for a long while, but he'll try and play a piece for a bit on a day-off if you ever ask.

•To the public eye, he looks like he hates you or at least looks like this friend of yours who seem to be grumpy all the time. But to you, you know his sharp words usually mean for good if they're addressed to you. He once firmly told you that he'll never be angry at you, but would probably scold you like a mama duck/lh

•If he learns that you get scared of horror content, he sometimes would make you watch horror movies with him at theaters just so he can feel you holding onto his arm tightly whenever you flinch -

•He loves the feeling of you depending on him, as if your life depends on you to do that---(ehhhh yeah, he'll still be unhinged as a bf ngl)

•He stalks you because you're always the main attraction to him. He'll never stop following you once he finds you interesting. Ever since before you even started dating even---

•If you bite him as a love language, it'll leave him shocked-- like, why did you do that??? Is he delicious??? Should he cook himself??? *gets bonked *

•Once you explain it to him clearly that it's a form of affection like hugging and kissing, he would start doing the same to you. Soft bites on the arm, on the cheek, on your shoulder, on your neck, on your ear.... it almost tempts him to bite harder--- but he would manage to restrain himself if you did warn him to not make you bleed.

•I feel like you should never act too friendly around your friends- especially if it's other men... unless you want to see remains of them on your dinner plate.

•He probably wouldn't be so jealous, more like if there's ever a second person outside of your family who you love the most, then he'll cook a dish out of them as an ingredient for you... to eat...

•I think he'll ever get pissed at someone if they do cross the line as they hit on you -

•Though, other half of myself think that the love between you and him is like that meme of "You're the most jealous man I've ever known" and then "You know other men?" Kind of thing./ih

•As much as he gets so excited and maybe turned on by the sight of you bleeding, too--- he surprisingly doesn't like to see you in a bitter expression...

•Besides cooking, he would give extravagant gifts with the ✨️best of the best✨️ quality possible. I imagine that he'll be the type to adorn your neck with many kinds of Jewel necklaces - even if you're not materialistic.

[applexxpop]

hi butt head 😋/lh it’s ur amazing friend in the whole wide world /j

erm anyways can i request ur opinions on Logan w a cuddly / touch starved reader 👁️

Logan with touch starved reader headcanons (kinda)

I hate touch, so I don’t understand what it’s like to be touch starved but I tried my best for you loser 🫵/lh

- He’ll give you all the attention you want, in fact he craves it himself, but never asks for it directly

- He loves to constantly have a hand somewhere on you (sitting at the table with a hand on your thigh or if he’s driving and your in the passenger seat having a hand on your thigh or holding hands)

- He can tell when you’re craving touch; it’s like a sixth sense or something, especially if you’re too shy to ask for it

- “come here” Logan says, you walk your way over to him, he put his arms around you and almost immediately melted into his touch “isn’t that better?”

- He’s the type of “I don’t like physical touch but I’m really touch starved” guy

- Will tease you about it, about how you always want to cuddle up to him while your watching a movie or just laying in bed (but in a light hearted way)

- “yea, bub? Can’t stand it when my hands aren’t on you?” “You’re like a koala, you know that?” “Clingy thing”

- If you spot him just sitting on the couch you’ll curl yourself into his lap, tucking your head into his neck

- if he spots you before you can spot him sitting on the couch, he’ll click his tongue to get your attention. Once he has it he’ll pat his lap for you to join him

- He loves to leaves marks, a little reminder that you’re wanted by him

- If your the one spotted sitting on the couch he’ll lay next to you, putting his head in your lap, letting you run your hands through his hair

- If you’re feeling like you're being annoying by being clingy/needy, he’ll gladly remind you of how much he loves feeling needed by you 

I tried 👍

[novalightz-exe]

DMC High School AU Ideas

Bestie and I were spitballing ideas while playing video games together, and here's what we came up with. I wish I could use this font AND the bullet point thing at the same time, but I guess I can't have nice things smfh.

Vergil:

1000% a theater kid

Overworked straight-A student

If the school setting has uniforms, he wears it properly every day

If the school doesn't use uniforms, he dresses preppy

Not sure if there's an equivalent to "advanced placement" (AP) classes in Europe, but he'd take AP English courses so that he could read more books

Would stick to Dante and his friends during lunch (Dante would make sure he wouldn't get bullied for reading @ the table (that's his job /lh))

Either that or he'd stay inside his fav English teacher's classroom to eat and talk about books/writing with

Is "forced" by Sparda and Eva to come and support Dante at his sports-ball (keeping it very general so people can get creative with what sport Dante would play) games

Pretends to be uninterested in Dante's matches and reads the whole time

Once Dante's games are over, Vergil surprises his brother with in-depth critiques of his team's strategies. If Dante's team loses he then tells Dante to lock the fuck in and that he can do better next time (Vergil really wants to see his brother win)

At home, Vergil offers to do skirmishes with Dante to help him prepare for the next sports-ball game

Dante:

Jock; does sports-ball

If the school has uniforms, he wears them "wrong" and doesn't bother to fix it

If the school doesn't have uniforms, he wears 2000s emo fashion

Mayhaps Dante meets Lady and Trish cause they're cheerleaders

Either joins a band or plays the electric guitar solo in his shared room with Vergil. Sometimes, Vergil gets annoyed; other times, he's chill. Depends on the song

If we go down the band idea, he could meet Lady and Trish through this instead

Does the bare minimum to pass classes. He's smarter than he actually comes off, but he doesn't care to put in the effort like Vergil. Grades don't define him.

Dante gets SUPER invested in Vergil's theater productions. They read lines together before bed sometimes.

He catches Vergil rehearsing long after his sports practice sessions are done and has to drag his brother out of the school's theater or else he'd starve

On show nights, Dante makes sure to grab front-row seats (rip to the people behind him and his parents; they won't be able to see shit cause the whole family is stupid tall LMAO)

When everyone is bowing at the end, Dante is ALWAYS THE LOUDEST ONE IN THE CROWD, CHEERING AND CLAPPING LIKE A MAD MAN

"THAT'S MY TWIN BROTHER RIGHT THERE!!!" *cue Vergil's face getting extremely red while his expression is like >:l*

Other silly stuffs:

Vergil gets the top bunk, Dante gets the bottom bunk

Dante kicks Vergil's bunk bed from below to annoy the fuck out of him

"WOULD YOU MIND??? I'M TRYING TO READ!!!" "And I'm bored. *kick*"

Headlocks, noogies, they'd probably punch each other too sometimes

They have a collective snack stash in their room

Take turns using the record player in their room. They have vinyl collections

Vergil has a locked box full of poems he's written (poor guy is embarrassed about being in touch with his feelings) and Dante has never found the key to open it

Just wanted to write all this out for funsies. Hope y'all enjoyed the ideas!

[wisteriasymphony]

Now I’m wondering what Sillynette actually thinks of Sublime whole… situation.

While Sublime is a bit of an obstacle, Silly wouldn't consider her an obstacle on the same level of Chat Noir, so likely no attempted murder! Sublime would just be a bit of an annoyance. I do think there's a compelling parallel between Sillynette holding an illogical fantasy of Adrien to satisfy her own issues (a perfect boyfriend who would never reject her and would love her despite her poor self-esteem and body image issues), and Sublimey holding an illogical fantasy of Sillynette to satisfy her issues (a devoted yandere kidnapper to whisk her away from all of that pesky pressure to continue being 'sublime' at everything), though. Like I said before, it's a human centipede of love, it's the same shit and all going in one direction. Hell, we could even include Adrien's fantasy of Claudia as an odd sort of "savior" and an embodiment of the humanity he thinks he doesn't have. She's his beguiling dark-haired Circe revealing him as the corrupt animal he is with a single touch, or the starving she-wolf that will wholly consume him and free him from a life of objectification, or.... whatever the fuck is going on is his head. God, what a weirdo /lh

(I don't plan on canonizing Sublime as part of TWEoS, just to clarify, This is a hypothetical for funsies.)

[asiandra-dash]

Hi i saw u wanna rewrite akikasa hcs PLEASE WRITE ME SOME I BEG /nf /lh

HJKJSKDKHS AKIKASA anyways I was referring to a short story I wrote a while ago but THIS!!! IS (I think) MY FIRST AKIKASA RELATED ASK!!!! I MUST WRITE!!!!!! All I have to do is figure out which thoughts are based on canon and which ones are AUs-

I took 18 days to finally post this because I kept getting ideas and had to force myself to stop because this is way too long 888 words man this ain't fanfiction also if this is illegible I'm sorry none of my headcanon posts will ever be organized no beta or read more we die like my grades after my orchestra field trip

Starting with basic shit Akito is SO so in denial about his feelings and when he's finally fed up with it he chucks it down to infatuation (It is not)

And Tsukasa is an oblivious idiot to everything even though he has a stupid crush on this ginger he just refuses to say anything because he still thinks Akito despises his guts

My guy every little bit of physical contact you make with carrot head makes him look like color hex #ff0000 RGB 255, 0, 0 how do you not notice this

Tsukasa fell first, and they both fell harder >:)

You know Tsukasa'a 1* card where Akito saved the poor man from a spider or something that's when it happened Tsukasa didn't know at first cause like haha who the hell falls in love with someone over something so small I barely even know the guy

If Akito confessed first, after a long moment of awkward silence and Akito wishing the floor would eat him alive, Tsukasa is suddenly hugging him and crying (That's a yes btw)

If Tsukasa confessed first, it would take a bit (probably a few days or weeks) but eventually Akito with the support of everyone finally accepts his feelings for Tsukasa (He didn't tell anyone about the confession btw it was probably Akiyama or one of Tsukasa's friends that told everyone also the threat of Rui was probably another reason he couldn't deny lmao)

Every date, and I mean EVERY SINGLE DATE, Tsukasa will always bring or buy some cheesecakes or pancakes for Akito

And if he doesn't the next time he brings lunch for Akito he'll bring him more cheesecake than he usually does to make up for it

When Tsukasa found out Akito's favorite flowers were sunflowers, he sometimes brings one for him too :D

Tsukasa probably got a pair of sunflower clip-on earrings too (Or whatever they're called)

Tsukasa loves to tackle hug Akito and it never fails to make the ginger laugh <3

Tsukasa borrows Akito's jackets a lot (At least twice a week).

Akito complains about it but let's be honest he loves it when he gets it back and all he smells on it is Tsukasa's scent

Tsukasa loves giving gifts to Akito even if there's no special occasion, usually some type of jewelry like earrings and the next day Akito's most likely wearing it

Obviously, they invite each other to their shows, and sometimes their other bandmates too

During WxS shows Akito's supportive and is internally loud but during VBS concerts Tsukasa is HOLLERING Akito's name and singing along if he knows the lyrics it's embarrassing but if you look closely enough you can tell it hypes up Akito a little more and he tries even harder (An has taken note of this and teases him nonstop about it)

Neither of them are a huge fan of PDA but if you stare long enough you'll probably miss a sneaky little kiss when you blink

That or if Tsukasa's in a really good mood he'll practically cling to Akito (Which is like 50% of the time tbh)

That one post I made on my side blog is real and so is the first tag

Yes Ena and Saki are supportive but holy shit Akito wants to fucking strangle Ena whenever she brings it up (This applies to An too)

Tsukasa helps Akito be more open with his feelings and Akito helps Tsukasa deal with negativity better

Around people, Akito still treats Tsukasa how he would (if Tsukasa isn't being clingy) but once they're alone Akito acts like he's touch starved and refuses to leave Tsukasa alone

Akito sometimes helps Tsukasa with practicing for his shows. He's obviously not as good but he's trying and Tsukasa appreciates his efforts

Tell Akito to say wonderhoy and he'll look at you like you're fucking insane but have Tsukasa tell him and he'll say it as unenthusiastically as he can manage

And then Tsukasa will look at him all :((( and Akito does it with more energy and "jesus fucking christ the things I do to make Tsukasa happy" (It's just a wonderhoy idk why you're so pissed /hj)

I do not understand Japanese and I am not caught up on that one event story with furry Akito so correct me if I'm wrong (about the italicized part) but before Akito gets over his fear of dogs Tsukasa always made sure they would steer clear of them and if one suddenly appeared this blond pink theatre kid is going to protect his pathetic fucking boyfriend with his life

Rui: Is that a hickey? | Tsukasa: No! It’s just a mosquito bite. | Akito, walking into the room: Hey, guys. | Rui: Hi, mosquito.

Whenever one of them stays up really late when staying over. the other tries to convince them to go to bed and cuddle/snuggle with them and it works.

Tsukasa practically begs meanwhile, if possible, Akito hugs Tsukasa from behind and basically just collapses onto him half asleep mumbling into his ear (Can you tell I'm tired it's 1 AM and I got 3 hours of sleep yesterday I'm running off of a power nap rn)

Obviously, Tsukasa can't do anything with Akito like that so he basically carries Akito to the room of whoever they're staying at

Akikasa supremacy WHO'S WITH ME AKIKASA!!!!!!! (I'm dying on a hill please)

Divider / Reply Icon made by me! ( 1 | 2 )

[miku-is-proship]

Sublimation is also literally a healthier, mature defense mechanism in adults, but tumblr which glorifies immature defense mechanisms only developmentally typical of children (like regression) is terrified of it and demonizes it.

I've even seen a very depressing case of some anti feeling like starving themselves and harming themselves makes them BETTER than someone who copes by hurting (fictional) kids and it's. So sad. They think they're lower than a fictional imaginary idea of a child, lower than text on a screen or drawings on paper, and that slowly killing themselves is a better way to cope.

It's so horrible what modern fandom has become and how a bunch of clueless young people who never went to medical school's twisted pop culture understanding of psychology, trauma, and recovery has demonized art therapy. There is no "wrong way" to write or draw about trauma.

siiigh... and you are so absolutely right.

even in ambients like the agere community, any sort of "impure" regression is seen as gross, problematic and "must-be-fixed", even though sexual abuse during childhood is a common experience that would affect someone enough to regress. asking someone to get rid of their sexual thoughts in relation to that is ignorant as hell.

not to mention that, personally, antis have never given me the so called "healthier alternative" to problematic fiction that they like to screech so much about. 😭 literally what is it. cuz so far, in my experience, all they've done is tell me how "writing this or that is bad for me" and minimize me as if i didn't know any better just cuz i am a victim. :/ bitch fuck off /lh

i'd rather live with my trauma and sexualize it and understand that it doesn't define me, than live constantly afraid of it and full of hatred and pain, and seeing myself as a perpetual mourner with extremely limited options on how to cope, let alone heal.

i have stories that i won't tell because i have no consent to, but i can assure you, from personal experience, that many antis are EXTREMELY out of touch with victimhood and don't seriously understand where the severity of trauma lies. enough to compare it to a fictional character's while sobbing because they "feel bad for you".

[martins-travel-mug]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Write touch starvation correctly!! If I search up “touch starvation” as a tag, and all I see is a clingy character, I’m eating my phone. Include the angst!! (/lh)

- The ache that they can feel in their chest 24/7.

- Hugging themself to try and ease that ache when it flares up.

- Pillows wrapped in a big blanket used as a makeshift ‘hug’.

- The sinking feeling and stinging eyes when they see someone being hugged/cuddled/touched.

- The nausea that happens when they’re hugged after so long of being deprived, and how it makes them feel physically ill.

- Casually dropping hints into conversation when things get bad. “You know, the average human needs 4 hugs a day? Isn’t that crazy? It can’t be true though, I don’t get that and I’m still alive, haha!”

- Small self-soothing things like cupping their own cheek, holding their own hand, caressing their own knee with their thumb.

- The shock of small, accidental, casual contact. They touched hands with someone while they were passing them something? That touch is going to linger for a day minimum.

- Eventually forgetting what being hugged even feels like, and not even being able to imagine anymore.

I need, NEED the juicy angst. None of this “touch starved character!!” And they’re just a little clingy, and their love language is physical affection. Show them STARVING for touch. The second they taste it after being deprived so long, all they can feel is nausea despite longing for a simple hug for so long. GIMME!!

[lynxthewolf1]

The wet bird agenda was being pushed so hard during among us and I’m thriving right now. So here’s some of my among us wet bird head cannons

- there just two dudes who have a crush on each and are so obvious about it but ether completely oblivious or are to afraid to get into other relationship because of their past experiences with partners.

- Rodney starts calling Ven V as a nickname.

- I think Rodney knows there’s something going on between Helix and Ven. Kids are smart they pick up stuff sometimes before adults do.

- 2 touch starved co-workers walk into a room. They each other a hug after every few rounds just to have some sort of stability

- If wet birds got together Rodney would be THAT KID to be like “I KNEW IT! YOU GUYS LIKE LIKE EACH EACH OTHER!” and start singing the sitting on a tree song like an smug menace

- before Sherb finished their finale task the round Ven was imposter they somewhat hoped the round would end so they wouldn’t have to be the cause of Ven loosing. This one feels cannon

- Two birds on a wire-

- they hold hands in the corner during hide and seeks hiding together. Someone said this is Sherbs chat and I agree

- I’m not saying there gay I’m just saying there coded fruity

- They support each others wrongs. They might vote each other off but it’s to avoid suspicion gotta be able to keep playing the game to win the game it’s all part of the co-workers motto /lh

[sleepyficss]

hiiiiiii same taco loving girly girl as before. previous request was my first time sending a request to a blog like this and i do really like the post!!!!!!! super cute :3 romantic headcanons for taco regarding each of the five love languages? same concept for reader as before. please and thank you ueeeehhhhhhh

love languages.

taco x reader

authors note:

aghh i love writing about love languages, there's so much i could ramble about here. ty ty for another request !!! i'm glad you liked the other one – keep the good ideas coming!! /lh

words of affirmation

- this ones' first up!! i feel is very important to her.

- some days, she gets in stuck in her own head, and starts to convince herself that you aren't going to stick around forever. she gets scared that you'll decide that, no, you don't forgive her for her past actions; and that she'll lose you like mic, and pickle –

- taco definitely needs to hear your reassurance, reminding her that you wouldn't leave her willingly for any reason.

- let her know that you don't hold anything against her for her past actions, and nothing will change your current relationship with her <3

- taco also understands how other peoples' words/opinions may affect you.

- as previously mentioned, she knows how it feels to be scared of possible abandonment – she isn't afraid to talk you through it, and to let you know how much she loves you.

- reminds you constantly that she couldn't imagine being with anyone else, not that she'd want to be, either.

quality time

- taco has stated before, that she thinks better when she has another person to talk to.

- so, please PLS just sit down next to her, while she's working on a project, or even just playing a game like sudoku (she's such a nerd, did u see her calculating her fall into the water in s1?? & i mean that with pure affection LOL).

- it may even help her figure things out along the way if you ask her what she's making/planning/how to play, so she can explain it.

- you may end up sitting there having no clue what half the words she's saying are, but its the thought that counts!! just nod and smile, she's too buried in her own work to notice that you're completely lost.

- leaning against her on the couch while you watch television, or read a book, or literally anything!! just relax by chilling around with her.

physical touch

- you're looking at the most touch-starved object in existence here (mephones a close second, i won't lie).

- especially after s1, where she was alone for so long before making a series of even worse decisions, barely anyone even bothered to LOOK in her direction, much less interact with her.

- the first time you hold her hand, she's almost forgotten what it was like to feel the touch of someone that actually cared for her.

- taco is surprised by your touch, and you almost go to retract your hand out of fear that she isn't comfortable with it – she's quick to reach back for it though, quietly asking you to not let go.

- (now she won't ever let go of you, good luck! she's super glued your hands together.)

- jk jk. but she's so shy about any affection for a while, that you almost think she won't ever get used to it.

- but OH BOY. when she does get more comfortable with initiating it? taco becomes quite the flirtacious menace.

- she's learnt of the affect she has on you, originally with just her voice (don't lie, she could say 'hello' to me, and i'd swoon), but now her touch? she loves seeing you flustered.

acts of service

- one of taco's greatest skills is her problem solving abilities, so she won't hold back when trying to come up with solutions to any of the issues you confide in her.

- especially after all you've done for her, trusting her, staying with her, and loving her, despite everything she's done?

- will do anything just to see a smile on your face (if not because she loves you, then to make herself feel more confident in believing that you do love her, but she won't admit that to you – she knows you'll scold her for it).

- she does really appreciate if you try to do the same to her, whether its trying to help her with an issue she's having, or if its just making a cup of tea for her.

- taco isn't used to it, as she doesn't usually get any sort of help from others unless they're getting something out of it. she almost expects you to want something in return, but is happily surprised when she is told otherwise.

gift-giving

- she already finds joy in inventing things, so its even better when she's able to to make something for you!!

- always tries to make it something you'll find useful, like... ..

- if you get overwhelmed by sounds easily? she's made you a pair of noise cancelling earbuds that can be easily hidden from view!

- or, she'll take apart and analyse the bowtie she took from test tubes lab, just to make a second one for you to match with her! except, depending on your style, it may be a hair accessory, jewellery, etc. instead!

- (i can imagine you convincing her to pull harmless pranks on the others with the invisibility ability – it reminds her of how silly she used to act in s1... and how much fun she used to have with pickle.)

- in turn, taco cherishes literally ANYTHING you give to her. whether its an expensive item you bought, or a hand-made gift.

- she totally keeps all of it too, including holiday cards, somewhere safe, and she likes to pull them out and look through everything if she's ever missing you :(

- but she would be so devastated if any of it ever got lost or ruined, depending on how much it matters to her, she may even end up crying.

- in general, i think taco's main love languages are for sure words of affirmation & acts of service.

- she's not quite used to showing her love to others, but she'll do anything she can to make sure you know how she feels about you <3