#also I cannot tell if this looks like him at all! and I can’t draw mullets

[not-a-matopoeia]

He just had to many overdue movies, it’s not his fault

I was toying around with how to do this composition, originally I was going to do two different pieces as a diptych but after visiting my local art museum and seeing the work of the (late) surrealist artist, Philip C. Curtis, I realized I could just squish them all into to one composition and have have the back panel show what Dick is looking at whereas the front the audience gets to see his reaction too it.

Picasso was right, stealing is awesome!

[suhsweet]

perv!mingyu ⟡ kmg

wc: 731 | pair: perv!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: roommates au, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: mingyu is PERVERTED, panty stealing, dirty thoughts, mingyu spies on the reader

summary: when your roommate mingyu is a filthy, dirty pervert obsessed with you

authors note: maybe i'm a freak, but i literally thought that mingyu uploaded a pic of himself sniffing either socks or underwear. this is a really short drabble. wrote this in an hour. i might write more about perv!mingyu :) i told y'all that this blog is really self-indulgent...

Mingyu can’t remember exactly when his obsession with you began. One day, you were his roommate. The next, you were the star of all his fantasies. He’s had plenty of roommates before you, but you were different.

Maybe it's the fact that he knows what you sound like when you’re touching yourself. He knows you only do it when you’re the only one at home, where you can freely vocalize your pleasure without being embarrassed by anyone listening in. Except, that is exactly what Mingyu does.

If he tells you that he’ll be back from the gym by eight pm, he’s actually home at 7 and listening to you use your fingers to pleasure yourself. He tells you that he’s going to be at work until six, and comes home at five-fifty to hear the tail end of your orgasm.

Most of Mingyu’s nights are spent leaning against the wall your rooms share, pathetically fisting his swollen cock in his palms. His head would be pressed against the wall, his ears straining to find your moans. If he’s bold enough, he’s right outside your door with his dick out, where it’s significantly easier to hear you.

Right after you cum, he loudly opens and closes the front door to the apartment, hollering, “I’m home!”

He listens to you stumble around your room before you peek your head out. With your hair a mess, and eyes wide, Mingyu finds your flustered state so cute. He prevents a smug smirk from appearing when you innocently ask him how his day was.

He’s well aware that it would take only three strides of his long legs to reach your room. He’s also certain you didn’t have enough time to wipe your fingers clean of your essence. The idea that while you’re smiling innocently at him, behind the door your fingers are coated in your cum drives him insane. It takes everything in him not to burst into your room, take your hand in his, lick your fingers clean, and then make another mess of your pussy.

Mingyu’s perverted habits have been ongoing for several months. Mingyu was too far gone to feel any sense of guilt at this point. Not when you didn’t have to know. Not when he stole a pair of your panties from your laundry hamper while you were out with your friends.

He tries to use it sparingly to preserve your scent. He pulls it out on the occasions where he is so horny that his imagination cannot satiate his needs. It’s erotic, Mingyu thinks, that he’s using your panties while jerking himself off without your knowing.

He’s flat on his back, in the centre of his bed with the sheets pushed to his ankles. His room is plunged into darkness aside from the bedside lamp that illuminates his filthy act of perversion with a warm glow. He has his eyes closed whilst imagining the sight of you seated on his lips. He imagines his nose is buried in your delicious pussy, not the fabric of your underwear. His free hand grips his cock fiercely.

His mind presents him the image of you gripping his dark locks, your hips rotating as you grind into his mouth. His tongue is expertly drawing circles around your clit, the pressure of it so perfect that he brings to you an orgasm that is so shattering that you threaten to fall off of him. His arms would lock around your thighs like a vice. His eyes would look up at you, telling you everything that his occupied mouth can’t. His puppy eyes would be imploring, begging for more. His gaze would track your every movement, every rise and fall of your chest, every ‘o’ your mouth forms, every time your eyes clench shut when he sucks on your pussy.

And when you’re finished with his mouth, you’d come off of him, and clean up the mess you made by licking your release off of his lips. You two would make out as a result, messy and slick with saliva and cum.

While his imagination goes wild thanks to your used panties, Mingyu struggles to keep in the pitiful whine that threatens to leave his throat. He doesn’t want to wake you up. You’re obliviously sleeping on the other side of the wall, unaware that your pervert roommate is thinking such depraved thoughts about you.

[freyito]

ɢɪʀʟᴅᴀᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ

✩ inspo: RECENT BOOTHILL LEAKS

★ summary: booty as a girldad...

✧ a/n: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS TO BOOTHILL'S STORY!!!!! THESE ARE BASED OFF OF BOOTHILL LEAKS!!!!!!!!!!! HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS!!!!! HEAVY SPOILERS!!!!

also i dont normally write stuff like this but oh my fucking god HE HAD A DAUGHTER. here's the fluff i promised after blue veins i guess. dont get too comfortable with it ;)

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, written before boothill release/2.2, BOOTHILL LEAKS, he's a good father. sorta, not proofread

✎ wc: 932

Boothill’s censorship comes in handy with the new addition to the family. Granted, he’s really good with watching himself around kids, regardless. He’s really good with kids, he becomes a softer person around them, even softer than he is with you. He’ll let them hang off his arms and draw things on his body, pick them up, and do that thing where he’ll throw them up in the air, spin them around, anything he can to play with the kids.

He starts to come back from missions faster, and spends more time with you and your daughter. He goes from ‘Trouble waits for no one!’ to ‘Trouble can wait a couple more days…’. He makes any little excuse to see her, and by Aeons, if you need a break, he’s more than happy to step in.

He is a total fashionista, too. He loooooooves dressing his daughter up in cute little dresses and overalls, braiding her hair and tying it up in bows. He’ll also let her play with his hair, no matter how frazzled he comes out. He’s content being her model, allowing her to put makeup on him as well. Sure, he’ll look silly, the brightest light blue eyeshadow caked on his eyelids, baby pink cheeks and deep red lipstick, but he feels pretty.

Of course, Boothill still can’t stay around as much as he’d like, he doesn’t want to risk the IPC finding him. He doesn’t want to risk the IPC finding her, specifically. He is too afraid of reliving the same scene, he often dreams of it, and there are times where he cannot tell the difference between his little girl and what was.

That means he’s protective. Even a little scrape and he’s worried, but he tries his best not to suffocate her. He’s worried, yes, but he gives himself space, for his sake and hers. He knows nothing good can come from an overbearing parent.

When she first started to walk he damn near cried, it was the first time you’ve seen him so soft and sappy. Yes, it was an ugly cry. He told everyone he knew that she WALKED! She walked to him! And he almost cries every time.

He’s also managed to keep the guitar he had made for his daughter, and he gifts it to your guys’ daughter. Not because he hopes that she will grow up to be what was, but because he believes it’s a nice memento. Somewhere out there, she’s watching you two build a family together, and she’s watching your little girl dance and play and giggle and even strum that guitar. And she’s happy.

Speaking of, he loves teaching his daughter guitar. Having her sit in his lap while he just strums, or showing her where to put her tiny fingers for certain notes. She’s not quite able to get it, but she laughs all the same, and that couldn’t make him happier.

Keeps every little drawing she makes up on the fridge. You’re starting to run out of space for magnets. Even if he’s not there, he wants her to know she’s an ARTIST. In every sense of the word. From preschool finger painting to elementary school drawings and so forth. Also keeps some folded up drawings in his wallet. His favorite is a stereotypical children’s drawing of you, him, and the house. Except he’s riding a pretty damn cool metal horse, (she named it ‘verminantor’, because she said it was cool. not ‘terminator’, no. ‘verminator’. make sure you get it right. Yes, Boothill named one of his bikes that) shooting his guns towards the sky. A pretty accurate depiction, you have to say.

He’s also really competitive for her. If she’s in any sports, he’s the dad screaming at the top of his lungs to ‘GO GET EM!!!!’ or ‘WIIIIIN!!!!!!’. He’ll get into verbal scuffles with other parents when they ask him to be quieter, because his baby deserves the best, and if the best is the loudest, then that’s what he’ll be.

Boothill is also an amazing storyteller, he can prattle on and on about whichever star system he’s been in for hours, it’s really handy when sending your daughter to sleep. Other kids really like his stories as well, he does his best to keep away from the violent parts (about 70% of his stories), and focus on how beautiful the planet was, or something like that. Most of the time he’ll pepper in stuff about a prince or a dragon or knights (which turned out to be true) to keep it entertaining, but pg for the kids.

He also spoils his daughter ROTTEN. He’ll come back from his little ‘sidequest’ with a bunch of gifts for both of you. He’s got all sorts of stuffed animals for his daughter, shirts, rocks, literally anything he could find that reminded him of her. Anything he could find that he knew she’d like.

He raises a rough n rowdy kid, essentially. The kind of father to let her roll around in the mud ‘cause she’s just havin’ fun’, who brings bugs home just for fun and names them all sorts of cowboy-esc names, (her favorite being Buck Bucksley– ‘it sounds like pa’s favorite word!’ she says, and you shoot him an angry glare. He looks away and shrugs it off, with a ‘I didn’t do nothin’.’) who’s favorite activity is looking for worms in the dirt, a kid who gets up quickly and dusts herself off when she scrapes her knees. And Boothill’s damn proud of her, absolutely gleaming with joy at any little accomplishment.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[phfenomena]

❝dancing in the refrigerator light.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- tom and reader baking while the background song is stand by me (let us all be delusional)

| A/N- i love this so much you have no idea. this shit got me ENTHRALLED also i imagine this as like right after ‘you’re my best friend’ happened…a part two perhaps..

| WARNINGS- food, dancing, touching a burning hot pan bc you’re too busy looking at tom, and big ole kissies

(divider by @v6que)

you stand in your kitchen humming along to the quiet music flowing through your house, mixing the blueberry muffin batter. it’s well past midnight at this point but you find it impossible to fall under the blanket of rest.

you left tom snoozing soundly in your bed, not wanting to bother him at this hour. a small smile plays on your lips as you zone out while mixing and think about how well everything played out so well with him. you hone back in to your mixing before you feel tom rest his chin on your shoulder.

“you’re supposed to be asleep.” you whisper, leaning you head onto his as he hums and closes his eyes. “can’t stay asleep, what’re you making?” he questions right next to your ear making your face slightly warm, your crush on him will never go away. “blueberry muffins. my mom always used to make them when we couldn’t sleep.” you confided in him softly.

you slide the baking pan into the oven with a slight screech from the metal on metal. you sat on the kitchen floor in front of the oven and set your timer, tom taking a seat next to you. “what are we doing?” he whispers through the silent air. “watching the muffins.”

the ‘watching the muffins’ eventually turned into you guys sitting on the couch kissing and telling stories. he’d tell you his set stories and you’d laugh and shake you head at him. the sight of them engrossed with each other was saccharine and sickeningly sweet. the familiar ding from your apple timer caused you to sit straight up and pull tom towards the kitchen again.

as you open the oven you look over to see tom, shirtless only clad in pajama bottoms licking the remaining batter off the spoon, illuminated by the moonlight and small warm lamps scattered around. before you can even realize that your hand was still moving, your skin came into contact with the boiling metal. you draw your hand back with a hiss and swear under your breath.

tom quickly turns the faucet to cold and places your hand under it, turning around to take the muffins out and turn the oven off. you start to quietly giggle as you pull him apart with your eyes, once again. “what happened, love? i thought you were a whiz in the kitchen.” he runs his hand up and down your back and you lean into him.

“i was, i am, i just couldn’t stop looking at you. you’re like a literal angel that i can’t believe is real.” you whisper to him while turning your head up to him and smiling. you hold your injured hand out to him “i almost died for you. that shows my dedication.” he scoffs and rolls his eyes before pushing your hand back under the water.

you both sat cross legged on the kitchen floor, each with a glass of milk in front of them and a muffin in hand. “so worth it. i don’t even need my left hand if i can have muffins forever” you joke with your mouth full with the pastry. tom raises his eyebrows at you “i, however, do think you might need both hands to function…and other activities.” he confidently spat out his sentence causing you to throw your head back laughing to hide the blush that made home on your cheeks and the warmth that tom manages to propagate throughout your body.

the speakers, who had been forgotten about, start to quietly leak out ‘stand by me’ and toms face lights up and pulls you up to meet him. he bows and sticks his hand out to you, asking for a dance. your smile cannot be contained as you take his hand and quickly remember you also cannot dance. the pair of you looks almost like a baby giraffe- although the giraffe might dance better.

you eventually give up on the waltz and wrap your arms around toms waist and hug him. “i’m really fucking tired.” you say into his chest and you feel his body vibrate when he laughs. you lift your head up and his comes down for your lips to meet. after more than enough kisses tom tries pulling you back to bed. “i thought you said you were tired?” “i am, i’m grabbing a muffin for the trip.”

you feel as if a piece of the sun had fallen down and nestled itself into your ribcage, but that’s just tom.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1720

The One I Want Masterlist

---

Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it. 

In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions. 

It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery. 

“So I was thinking,” he says. 

You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.

His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”

That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals. 

There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached. 

But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so. 

“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”

You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises. 

“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”

“What?”

His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin. 

“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”

—

It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both. 

“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”

Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”

You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats. 

Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake. 

“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks. 

Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed. 

Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy. 

You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”

He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”

When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs. 

“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”

With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. 

He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”

“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”

“No.”

“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”

Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”

Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks. 

Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”

“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”

There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.

After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines. 

When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe. 

It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head. 

“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination. 

Your eyes snap up. 

The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake. 

You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later. 

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”

---

A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

the great war - astarion

a/n: i finished baldurs gate 3 last night for the first time and i just. i couldn't stop thinking about the fact that this is a game where all you do is fight and kill people and spend months thinking you'll die. and no one mentions the fact that those things woudl give you ptsd. so here's what i came up with! warnings: cursing, smut, angst, nightmares, ptsd, crying, MASSIVE spoilers for baldurs gate 3. like explicit details about the ending. general content warning for mature themes and such word count: 2.2.k summary: the four things you tell your companions you've been up to when they ask at reunions. pairing: astarion x gn!reader now playing: the great war - taylor swift "that was the night i nearly lost you/i really thought i'd lost you/we can plant a memory garden/say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair/there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair/and we will never go back"

Painting

He asks you to teach him to paint on a cold, rainy day. He’s spent hours watching you meticulously replicate various memories and scenes you want to be forever permanent. You paint your old friends.

You paint Gale and Tara curled up on one of the chairs in the Elfsong Tavern.

You paint Astarion with a goblet in his hand, wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

You paint Karlach and Shadowheart laughing by the fire.

You paint Astarion in the early morning, his arm draped over his eyes as he rests.

You paint Wyll and Lae’zel sparring as Scratch watches, running around them like an excited toddler.

You paint Astarion sitting by the river, his feet submerged in the water. You remember how peaceful he looked.

But now, he stares at the canvas in front of him with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” You ask gently as you work.

“You’re so good at this,” He whines, “It’s infuriating.” You can’t help yourself. You lean over and gently kiss his cheek. The pale elf’s ears grow red.

“It’s all about practice and time, love.” You remind. “Besides, I also draw a lot. That helps.” You confess. Astarion looks at you curiously.

“I’ve never seen any of your drawings. Not recently, I suppose.” He recalls scattered parchment across your tent, but he couldn’t recall seeing you draw in the past few months. Your heart skips a beat.

You’ve revealed yourself.

You rest the paintbrush and the pallet down, before going to your bedroom. You come back and hand him a sketchbook. He sits down on one of your chairs before taking it, beginning to flip through it.

The pages are full of so many things.

His heart aches just looking at it.

The first few pages are normal. You’ve drawn Astarion, your companions, Scratch..

And then, he starts to see the dragon you fought on top of the Netherbrain. Right beneath it, Arabella grins back to him.

The amulet of Bhaal sits in one corner, and Halsin widdling sits in the other.

This pattern goes on and on, back and forth. A horrible thing is followed by the warmest memory you can reach in that moment.

Unconsciously, Astarion’s arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer. He goes through the book, and as the horrors you’ve drawn become worse, he notices that a familiar face he now recognizes as himself fills the pages.

He closes the book and puts it to the side. Then, he glances up to you. He pulls you closer, so you’re standing between his legs. You admire him for a long time but neither of you say much. You just admire each other as you quietly ponder everything that you’ve been through

2. Fucking

When you aren’t painting, you’re fucking—You cannot help yourself, and at this point, it’s sort of embarrassing.

You and your darling Astarion live in a roomy but peaceful house where no one can just stumble upon you, they must be looking. You have a small sunroom for your paintings, even an alchemy lab, and of course, Astarion spends most of his time in the study he has made himself.

But that doesn’t stop the pair of you from trying to fuck to death.

Astarion bakes you various delicious treats, and then lays you down on the table to enjoy his own treat—His tongue laps up the sweet nectar that he has found himself genuinely craving you, as if your cum was a lifesaving elixir.

And of course, while he works in his study, your mouth warms his cock, teasing it—When you get too cheeky, he pulls your hair with his fingers, telling you to behave.

One particular night, his teeth graze your neck as he thrusts into you, gripping your hands as he listens to the euphoric moans leaving your lips. He thinks he can probably spend the rest of eternity chasing those moans.

“Astarion,” You breath out, squeezing his hand, and he just lets out a breathy chuckle.

“I know, darling, just wait a few more minutes for me..” he says softly, “Just really feel everything I’m giving you,” He says. His voice is not unkind, and he is focused on giving you what you want.

You fought a Netherbrain for Gods sake, you can at least take a few minutes to enjoy the feeling of your spouse fucking you.

As your moans become whinier, and Astarion feels himself about to cum too, so he bites the shell of your ear, a quiet sign to let yourself go.

And you do—In the midst of a chorus of moans and pants, you take a second to recognize the fact that you’re alive. The two of you are breathing and you’re not mindflayers, and you’re in love. You never thought the feeling of your lover’s cum dripping out of you would be damn near inspirational.

He stays on top of you for a few minutes, and you can tell he’s feeling the same things you are. But eventually he rolls off of you and rests comfortably on his stomach. Your hand comes over to his back, starting to trace those scars.

Those scars that haunt him.

You cannot help the next words that leave your lips.

“Do you ever regret not becoming the Ascendant?” You ask quietly. His eyes study yours. He answers with another question—

“Do you ever regret not taking control of the Netherbrain?” he asks.

Your answer is simple. Unspoken. Obvious.

You just smile gently to him and lean in, kissing his head.

3. Late Night Tea

Astarion doesn’t sleep. Not because he doesn’t want to, but that’s how elves work. But he doesn’t mind laying next to you as you sleep and he meditates.

But mostly, you never sleep through the night.

Sometimes it’s something small.

Raphael’s laughter haunting you. The snake that threatened Arabella in the grove. The sewers of Baldurs Gate.

Other times, it’s intense. It’s vivid and leaves you sobbing and panicked.

Orin with a knife to Gale’s throat. Gortash experimenting on Karlach. The Emporer sucking Wyll’s soul from his head, or sometimes you’re just stuck in the Astral Prism, unable to get out.

Tonight, You’re in Cazzador’s dungeon. You’re standing in the middle of the circle where he attempted to preform the ascension ritual—But this time it’s different. Your companions are levitating, suspended in red magic. When you look behind you, Astarion is there. He’s shirtless, suspended midair.

Your heart drops.

You run over to him, as fast as your feet will take you, but you are halted just a few feet from him, crashing into an invisible barrier keeping you from your spouse. You cannot reach any of your companions, but their faces are all twisted into the same look—A melted, tense look of pain and terror.

You look back to the center of the room and.. You see your dream vistor. The façade the Emperor put on to try and trick you. They hold Cazzador’s staff, and their eyes glow deep red. You charge at the dream visitor, your hands clawing for the face before—

You wake up, sobbing and breathless. You have to take a moment to realize that it is over, that you’re not in that dungeon deep beneath Cazzador’s estate, and instead, are in bed, lying with Astarion.

You sit up, and when you glance over to him, he’s awake, looking at you with this worried expression. It makes him look younger than you’ve ever known him.

“Astarion—” You start, the words getting caught in your throat.

His hand comes over to your cheek, cupping it gently.

“Shh.. Just breath.” He requests gently, wiping your tears gently. His other hand finds yours. “Come along,” He says softly, tugging on your hand, pulling you along to the kitchen. The sun will rise soon. But Astarion leaves the windows open, sensing it will help ground you.

He starts to boil water for tea, as you sit at the table, staring out the window. Your hands wipe away your tears. Astarion brings two cups of tea to the table and sits next to you.

“Thank you.” You say gently, and he smiles gently to you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shake your head. Then you ask—

“Do you ever get nightmares?”

Astarion tilts his head, admiring you for a few moments as he debates his answer.

“Yes.” He takes a sip of his tea.

“Why don’t you ever wake me up when you have them? You always seem to help me, why not wake me up?”

Astarion slides off the chair and kneels by your side. He kisses your hand gently, looking up to you with those gorgeous red eyes.

“When I wake up and realize that Cazzador is dead, that it was just a rather dull nightmare.. When I remember that you’re safe and by my side, I’m okay.” He says gently. “As long as I can realize you’re safe, I can calm down.”

You kiss him deeply, and you never want to let him go.

4. Growing Back Together

It takes a long time to find all the pieces of yourself that has been scattered throughout Faerun due to the parasite. It takes a long time for Astarion to unlearn two hundred years of abuse and torment.

The two of you become less frail as you grow comfortable. Your stomachs are full of warm soup and bread and rich wines, and as you lose that familiar and constant hunger, your brain begins to clean up, as if it’s repairing itself, mending the walls and putting pictures back together.

You and Astarion spend your time trying to grow together. He teaches you how to play cards, and you accuse him of cheating every single time. You know he is. He won’t ever admit it to you.

You face the inevitability that Astarion will outlive you. That you will grow old and sickly, and Astarion will be left all alone. He will outlive not only you, but your comapnions, too. It will be just him and Withers one day.

And at first, you try to convince him to move on after you die. You tell him that he will have the opportunity to see this wild future, a future that no one can possibly predict. You tell him that he might be able to fall in love with other people, and that he can live this phenomenal life in your name.

But he argues back. He tells you he has no desire for people to forget the battles you fought, that he has no need to hear the very real adventures he went on become a fairytale, a legend that no one truly believes.

He has no need to outlive his friends, loved ones, or even future children you might have with him.

“There’s no desire to live a life without you. You are what makes my life worth living.”

And that is what convinces you. You agree that when you’re old and wrinkly, and you are near the end, Astarion will hold you as the sun rises. That way, the pair of you will die together. There will never be a day the two of you know without each other.

But for the time being, you spend long nights in front of the fire, talking about anything and everything.

One night, Astarion slips a gold band onto your finger and asks you to solidify the legend of the Vampire Astarion and the Savior of Baldurs Gate, in front of your friends, in front of the Gods, and to each other.

How could you say no?

But the two of you, being who you are.. You cannot just rent a venue, buy a few fancy outfits, get a cake, and have a party. There needs to be a special twist on it.

So when Withers sends out invitations for the five year anniversary of your defeat of the Netherbrain (after six months and then a year), you and Astarion look at each other, and realize what must happen.

To declare your love for each other in the place where your love started, it’s the perfect fairytale ending the two of you deserve.

Withers agrees to turn his celebration into a makeshift wedding, happy to indulge you in your mortal celebrations, especially because he knows things you do not know.

So, in that pretty clearing in the forest that he lead you to when you thought you might be illithid by morning, you marry him. You marry him and never look back, do not think twice, and you dive headfirst into it.

When you get back to your house, you spend days buried between silk sheets.

Dirty tea cups sit on the table.

An old game of cards lays abandoned on the desk of his study.

A painting of your wedding hangs on the wall.

The Pale Elf gets his happy ending.

You can hear your own thoughts, there is no tadpole invading them.

And neither of you have flinched in years.

[achilles-rage]

NSFW Alphabet // Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley x Plus Size Reader

Hi besties<333 This is my first time writing so pls don’t absolutely tear me to shreds (just a little bit is acceptable though). I’m planning on making a SFW alphabet for Buck soon as well but some of the letters had me drawing a blank lol. Also, although there’s not really much mention of it, this is with a plus size reader in mind. As a plus size girly myself, it sucks to read x reader stories and knowing in the back of your mind that it wasn’t written with your body type in mind (although there’s nothing wrong with writers that do that of course). I just thought I would add to the plus size reader community because there are barely any buck fics and i believe in my heart that he loves plus size women. Anyway, enjoy <3

MDNI- 18+ Only

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When y’all finish he’ll wait a few minutes before pulling out, head buried in your neck as his breathing gets back to normal. He’ll kiss your neck and tell you how good you were for him, before finally getting up to clean you up. After that he wants to lay with you and talk, just enjoying each other’s company, maybe y’all will make some food if you feel like it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: Probably his arms. He’s worked hard to be as fit as he is and he enjoys using his arms to move you/lift you while you’re having sex. He takes pride in his appearance, he knows he’s hot, but it’s an added bonus that he can lift you up and do whatever he (or you) wants.

Yours: I am of the firm belief that Evan Buckley is a thigh man. He loves how they feel in his hands, he loves how they look when you straddle him, he can’t get enough. He loves to see them jiggle when you move, or when he playfully smacks them. He loves thick thighs and I will die on this hill

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man has a BREEDING KINK OKAY!!! He loves to cum inside you, fucking deep into you and feeling his cum fill you up. He loves watching it slowly dripping out, so he can finger it back in. If that’s not your thing I think the next best place would be on your stomach, watching your face as he lets go, seeing the way he marks you up. He loves your little tummy, how it moves as he ruts into you, so he loves it when you let him cum all over it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I only call this a dirty secret because he would never tell anyone about this after the last time it happened and he got fired. He wants to fuck you in the fire engine SO BAD. He can’t help but think of the way you would look as he fucked into you quickly, trying not to get caught with your dress up around your waist. He knows it’s not gonna happen, he’d never hear the end of it from anyone in his life if it did, but god he wants to so bad.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Girl have we watched the same show?? This man FUCKS!!! We all know (and love) Buck 1.0, and we know he knows what to do. Buck 3.0 might mean him changing into, well, not a sex addict, but that doesn’t mean he forgot his training (🫡). I think he understands that every woman is different, and while he might not get it exactly right the first time, he’s a fast and eager learner, watching what exactly makes you squirm and moan the most for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Canonically, Buck LOVES when you ride him, and I agree. He loves to watch you move yourself on him, able to grab at your thighs, and your hips, and your chest. He also loves to move you on him, squeezing your hips tightly as he sets the pace if you start getting tired or if he just feels like it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I mean, he’s Buck, he’s truly a golden retriever of a man and cannot stay serious for long. I think he’s a bit of a mix, he can be serious in the moment, but at the end of the day, he’s still Buck, and Buck is silly goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it nicely trimmed, carpets match the drapes. In terms of his partner, he really doesn’t give a fuck. He’s seen it all and could not care less as long as he feels the way you wrap around him so perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Buck 3.0 is a man of TASTE, but that being said, I think he only really pulls out the romance during special occasions. Most of the time this man wants to freak nasty, but sometimes when he’s tired, or just feels especially in cuddly/clingy, he’ll be more romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it pretty often, of course not when he has the option to fuck you instead (and you’re willing, of course), but if you’re not with him and he needs a quick release, he getting right to it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding: I will scream this till the day that I die, this man wants a family more than anything. Whenever he’s inside of you, he can’t help but think about how pretty you’d look with your belly all round with his babies.

Praise: Look at this pathetic little guy, he needs to be praised, he thrives on it. He loves to hear how good he feels, how good he’s making you feel. This goes both ways. He’s in your ear immediately telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him, how pretty you look.

Spanking: HEAR ME OUT!! While I’m not sure he would actually bend you over his knee (but honestly the more I think about it he might) he would LOVE to give your ass a nice little swat as you’re riding him. He loves the sound it makes, and the sound you make because you’re not expecting it. I don’t think he’d ever do it hard enough to hurt too much, but I think enough to make your ass a little red would definitely be something he could get behind (lol).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He doesn’t have a ring cutter in the kitchen for nothing<3

I think he likes to have sex at home the most, on the bed, on the couch, on the kitchen counter. You name it, he wants to fuck you there. His favourite is the counter because he loves seeing you being so domestic in the kitchen. Making dinner, cleaning up, whatever, he wants you right then and there and cannot wait. He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kisses your neck before slowly turning you around to face him and lift you onto the counter to have his way with you.

While he’s moved on from having sex in public places that could (will) get him fired, he’s still into it, but in less obvious places. If y’all are in his car and you’re looking a little too good in his passenger seat, he loves an empty parking lot quickie. Front seat, back seat, whatever you want, he’d be pulling you onto him as soon as he puts the jeep in park.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Girl ANYTHING gets him going, it would take one look, one touch, one word and this man would be ready to go. I think what really gets him going though is seeing you with kids or getting along so well with the 118. This man truly just wants a silly little family and someone that can get along with the 118fam, so seeing you like that has him making up a stupid excuse to leave a little early so he can take you home and have his hands all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Like I said before, I don’t think he would do anything to hurt you too much, other than the occasional light spanking or biting. He would also not be into any kind of age play or pet play, he’s pro kink but it’s just not for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man is a giver and I stand by this. Dear god he loves nothing more than having you spread open for him, hands tangled in his hair as he makes himself at home between your thighs. He loves having his hands gripping your thick thighs, feeling them on either side of his head. When you start to get squirmy from the overstimulation he’ll place a large hand over your lower stomach, holding you still as he pushes you over the edge again.

With all that said, he will definitely not say no to getting head. He loves seeing you look up at him while you’re on your knees, trying to take all of him. He’ll keep a hand in your hair, pulling it softly every now and then, and he can’t help but moan and whine as he gets closer and closer, eventually cumming down your throat as he squeezes his eyes shut.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the day, but most of the time he likes it rough and fast. He loves a good quickie, meaning it kinda has to be more fast paced and rough, and he’s pretty easy to get riled up, so when you drop any sort of hint, he’s on you immediately and ready. On other days where he’s feeling extra clingy and lovey, he’ll be more of a slow and sensual guy, but I think for the most part he loves to fuck you deep and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Like I said, he loves a good quickie. A lot of the time he craves a quickie before work, needing to feel you before his long shift. I think they happen pretty often, but he’d much rather take his time with you, using his fingers and mouth before he fucks you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as there’s clear communication he’s down to try pretty much anything, he’ll do anything to make you happy (within reason). I think he’s also a risk taker (also within reason, he has to think about not getting fired again, of course). Buck 1.0 is still inside him somewhere when it comes to sex so he definitely loves a little risk, but he’s grown enough to know where the line is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While he would love to go as many rounds as possible, I think it would realistically be 2-3, lasting about 10-15 minutes each round. I think he would be the type to like having some time between rounds, tension still high as you talk and lay around before he's back on you again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Once again, he doesn’t have a ring cutter in his kitchen for nothing<3

He likes them, he definitely owns a few toys of his own. Vibrators, cock rings, some handcuffs or restraints, he’s very open to anything that increases y’alls pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He does it sometimes not really meaning to, like he does something and you’re like….dear god…and maybe he doesn’t notice the first time but the second time he does and WILL keep going until you snap. He loves the way you get all squirmy and whiny and desperate for him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So vocal!!!! Literally that meme thats like “y’all afraid to make noise in the bedroom?? i be in my girls ear like…” He loves dirty talk (on both ends) and he can’t help but let out low moans when you’re clenching around him. He also loves hearing your breathless whimpers, making him feel like he’s doing a good job, and encouraging him to pull more sounds from your lips.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If he was in a relationship during the whole sperm donor thing, it would be the longest few weeks for both of y’all. I imagine the first time he has an appointment, you make sure you’re waiting for him in a cute little matching set, knowing how excited he was to finally be buried inside you again, hearing you whine as he fills you up. He’s so frustrated when his appointment doesn’t work out that he doesn’t let you know how it went, instead being unpleasantly surprised when he sees you sprawled out on his bed when you get home and unable to do anything about it. He wants nothing more than to rip your pretty little set off your body and run his hands up and down your soft curves, but he can’t, and it’s torture. You apologize (but he will hear none of it because it was a lovely surprise, just shitty circumstances), and instead you change into an oversized shirt and sweatpants to enjoy a completely normal (and not sexual at all) night on the couch.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7 inches, thick, no complaints <3

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH!!! This man is thinking about sex 24/7, and if he could, his hands would be on you at all times.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Most of the time I think he stays up for a while, just hanging out and talking to you. But if he comes home after a long shift he’s fucking GONE in 5 minutes tops.

Likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this! Or I would love to hear y’alls thoughts on any of the prompts<33

Also let me know if there’s any other character you’d like me to do this for (not just 911 characters)!

[merrybloomwrites]

Ants Are Going to Town in My Body

Summary: Your boyfriend Shayne helps you through the roughest night of your period after getting a taste of cramps for himself.

Title taken from the video that inspired this story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kkn2dc4L7fE

Word Count: 1.7K

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People could easily say that Shayne Topp has golden retriever energy. As his girlfriend of two years, you would completely agree with that statement, and you would say it as the highest compliment.

Shayne is the absolute best boyfriend you’ve ever had. It’s not uncommon for him to surprise you with flowers for no reason. He loves to cook. Sometimes you help him in the kitchen, and other times he kicks you out in order to surprise you with the new recipe he decided to try.

He gets excited to tell you all about the latest book he read or to watch a new movie or show with you. Day trips outside of the city happen a couple times a month, the two of you listening to music during the drive as you enjoy the fresh, non-LA air.

One thing that you found surprising at first is how much he dotes on you. It’s always in subtle ways, nothing overwhelming, but he does little things to show he cares. To show that he knows what you need, deep down.

He always takes care of you when you’re sick, grabbing medicine and making soup to help you feel better. If you’re sad or stressed he’ll go through the feelings with you. People often see him as a class clown type and might assume that he’d just do what he can to cheer you up and make you laugh, but that’s not always the case. He’ll meet you where you’re at. If you need to vent, he’ll listen. If you need to cry, he’ll hold you. He’s one of the most emotionally mature men you’ve ever met, and you can’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call him your boyfriend.

He is also super supportive of you each month during your period. He has no problem picking up pads or tampons, not even batting an eye when fans recognize him in the feminine care aisle of the local convenience store.

He’ll make sure that you have pain medicine and a snack to take it with, so it doesn’t upset your stomach. He draws warm baths and makes sure your heating pad is ready for you. When you have cramps in the middle of the night you always go to the couch so that your constant tossing and turning to find a comfortable position won’t wake him. But without fail, he always comes to find you and bring you back to bed.

All that to say, he’s truly a perfect boyfriend. You don’t think it could be better than this. Until one day, he proves you wrong.

It’s day two of your period, and you’ve been curled on the couch since you got home from work. The pain meds haven’t kicked in, nothing is comfortable, and you’re extremely bloated. You’re debating if it’s worth it to drag yourself to the bathroom and take a bath when the front door of your apartment opens.

The very first thing Shayne does is press a kiss to the top of your head. The sweet gesture distracts you from the pain for a moment, but the relief is fleeting.

“Hey honey, how are you feeling?” he asks gently.

“Like it would be less painful to slice open my stomach and take out my uterus,” you reply through gritted teeth.

You finally look at him and see the most loving expression on his face. It immediately lightens your mood, and you say, “Sorry, that was a bit dramatic. I just hate waiting for the medicine to work. And I cannot get comfy.”

“I got something that might help,” he says before walking into the kitchen. You miss his presence next to you, but you’re also curious what he has for you. The microwave beeps and he’s crouched in front of the couch again. You look up and see him holding a stuffed rabbit.

“It’s one of those thingies that you can heat up and works like a heating pad. Plus, it’s your favorite animal so, I dunno, I thought it was cute.”

He hands it to you, and you place it on your belly, sighing at the immediate relief. “Thank you,” you say quietly.

“Of course, babe. I also have ingredients for your favorite meal so I’m gonna wash up and start making that, okay?”

You nod and smile, and he leans in to place a soft kiss to your lips. You’re comforted by the sounds of him preparing dinner in the next room and by the time the food is ready you’re finally feeling better.

“So, how was work today?” you ask as you dig into the delicious meal he prepared. You’d been too nauseas to eat lunch earlier, and you suddenly realize how starving you are.

“It was good, recorded a podcast, a reddit reacts and a challenge pit,” he replies.

“Busy day. What were the challenges?”

“Uh, it was a fun one. I’m gonna let it be a surprise for you when it comes out,” he says with a laugh. “How were the pups today?” he asks in reference to your job as a service dog trainer.

You tell him about the new dog that you’ve started working with as you both finish eating. Once you’re done you try to bring the plates to the kitchen. Since Shayne cooked you plan to do the cleanup, but he stops you before you can even stand. “I’ve got it babe, why don’t you choose a movie for us to watch tonight?”

You again wonder how you got so lucky to have someone who takes care of you and does so with a smile on his face. There’s a new documentary you’d both been wanting to watch so you pull it up and grab a blanket while you wait for him.

He joins you a few minutes later and hands you a bag of your favorite chocolates. You know that you didn’t have any in the apartment, meaning he’d picked them up for you. The kind gesture brings tears to your eyes, and you internally curse the hormones that make you more emotional than normal.

Shayne doesn’t comment on the crying, knowing that it sometimes makes you uncomfortable when he points it out. Instead, he just wraps his arm around you, pulls you in to cuddle against his chest, and presses play on the documentary.

His free hand moves to your belly, massaging and giving the type of pressure that always helps with your cramps. Even though they’re not bothering you right now, you appreciate how well he knows you and how he’s doing everything he can to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.

For the next hour and a half, the documentary plays. You’re only half paying attention to it. The rest of your brain is focused on your wonderful boyfriend, who knows exactly how to take care of you. There’s no expectation, he doesn’t want anything in return. He just wants to make sure he’s doing everything he can to make you feel better.

The credits start rolling and Shayne turns off the TV before getting off the couch and reaching out to help you stand as well. The two of you get ready for bed side by side in the bathroom and you burrow under the covers.

It takes a couple of minutes for Shayne to join you, and you assume he’s checking that the door is locked as he does every night. But when he comes into the bedroom, you see he’s carrying the new bunny he got you. It’s warm, and smells of lavender, and you know he heated it for you in the microwave before coming to bed.

 You place it against your belly and Shayne gets under the covers, spooning you from behind. He places a kiss to the back of your neck and murmurs “I love you” against your skin.

“I love you too,” you reply, and fall asleep.

You wake in the middle of the night, your cramps coming back, so you quietly slide out of bed and walk into the kitchen. You find a snack already left out for you nearly cry again at how well Shayne takes care of you. After eating the food, you take more pain medicine and reheat the bunny. You notice a vase of flowers on the counter that weren’t there yesterday and immediately realize that Shayne must have picked them up along with the chocolates and the new stuffed animal.

Just as the microwave is about to finish you feel hands wrap around your waist.

“You okay?” Shayne asks, his voice groggy from sleep.

“I’m okay. Thank you. For the snack. And for the bunny. You truly are the best,” you say as you turn in his arms to press a kiss to his lips.

You grab the stuffed animal and lead Shayne back to bed. It takes half an hour for the pain medicine to kick in, and he rubs your back the entire time.

The next day is better, your cramps and bloating subsiding. But you can’t forget how well Shayne took care of you through the worst of it. He never diminishes your emotions or belittles the pain you feel.

A couple weeks later you get home from work and open YouTube to relax a bit before starting dinner prep. You see the new Smosh challenge pit video titled “Period Cramp Simulator Challenge” and you immediately start to watch it. The video begins with the rubber band chicken challenge which has you in tears with how hilariously ridiculous it is.

And then comes the period cramp simulator. You notice the outfit Shayne is wearing while he practically fights for his life experiencing cramps for the first time. Suddenly, his actions on day two of your last period make sense. Because that was absolutely the day they shot that video. He got a taste of what you experience every month and went even further in his need to take care of you. And for that reason, this video makes you fall even further in love with your boyfriend.

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Thanks for reading! If you have any Shayne Topp story requests let me know!

[mysticovo]

hey so how do you think the rottmnt boys would deal with a s/o who is shy and gentle with their affections? The boys are so used to rough house hugs or Donnie’s metal limbs hugs that s/o is so different. Like every time they adorably ask for a certain kind of affection. When s/o holds hands with the bros, their hand is very gentle and not a tight grip. The turtles have the tightest grip. For cuddling, s/o is loose and not clingy but both are comfy. If s/o is big spoon, they are gently running one of their hands along the boys head, neck, back and shoulders at the back, it kind of makes it seem like the boys are made of glass and feels like a heavenly massage. S/o sometimes whispers affectionate words to their turtle?

yes-sir-ee!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Soft Affections ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Donnie:

Donnie would probably be the same way in the beginning

As we know, he’s sort of adverted to touch except for a select few at times

He liked it when you would loosely wrap your arms around him when he was working on stuff in his lab and he really needed love

If you were to click off his battle shell too…he’s softly churring as he leans back against you

Softly drifting your hands across his soft shell and his tense shoulders has him churring even more

He simply just loves the soft gestures

If you’re big spoon when cuddling too, especially if he’s falling asleep; the soft gestures cause his to make those deep and soft churrs. You’re hands soft drifting over his thighs, arms and hips just make him swoon in the right ways

If there’s days where he doesn’t need or can’t stand the touch because of sensory issues, he’ll try to reciprocate with the robot arms in his battle shell

When your hand is loosely in his, he’ll usually squeeze it or tighten his grip

He’s fine when you ask before you do things….just not when he’s sleep deprived and aching. He’d just prefer the softness immediately

Also praise causes him to churr and swoon. We know he craves it.

Rafaela:

He was definitely not as gentle at first

He’d accidentally squeeze too tight when you hug him loosely

I think you’d probably hold his arm or side most of the time because the front of his body is to large to hug loosely.

He’d definitely reassure you that you don’t have to be so gentle, but he loves it

Anytime you ask, he tells you every time you don’t need to.

Also, Raphael is a big cuddler. You cannot look at that man and say he isn’t

so when you get all shy when you cuddle him, he hugs you tightly to him.

He mainly loves being big spoon because he gets to shower you with love, but when you're big spoon. He’s a churring mess, even more after the Kraang.

Feeling your fingers gently trace his spikes and shell, when you softly stroke his head and play with his mask tails. You have him wrapped around your finger.

He loves when you whisper sweet words into his ear…again, especially after the Kraang.

he needs comfort after what happened. He feels like a monster and those soft gestures and words help him understand he’s not

When you gently and softly touch the leftover scars…he’s swooning and only has eyes of adoration for you.

Mikey:

he doesn’t quite mind it, but he’s the total opposite.

While you’d shyly ask just to hold hands, he’s running and jumping into your arms when he sees you

He grabs your hand tightly, or squeezes it when you hold his

You try to hug him softly and loosely, he’ll try to match it but ends up holding you tightly and nuzzling his head into your shoulder.

There’s times where he does love the sweet affections so much

When he retracts back into his shell and you softly rub and scratch his shell until he comes back out

When you rub his hands after he draws or cooks for a long time

When you softly rub your thumb against his hand when you hold it

He loves it when you cuddle him too when he’s in his shell, you can hear the soft chirps and churrs reverberating off it.

After the Kraang when his hands and arms are all cracked up, he loves when you softly takes his arms and gently stroke the cracks.

When his hands tremor and you softly and shyly kiss them, his only thoughts are you and how much he loves you.

Leon:

He’s just like Mikey, the complete opposite.

but he’s also just dopey when it happens

He wraps his arms around you when he sees you

And will sometimes jump into your arms

He knows you’re shy about it, but try’s to get you to open up more with every ounce of affection he has

Most of the time he’s initiating it

You ask for cuddles, he’s already doing it the moment the word leaves your mouth

Want a kiss or hold his hands, done.

But, there’s times where he’s shy along with you.

When you traces his yellow stripes, he’s churring softly

When you trace his red birthmarks, he’s a churring, blushing mess

If you’re praising him, he’s just the same old Leo just with a bigger ego but also expect a soft blush

If you’re big spoon or cuddling him, he’s rubbing his face against yours and curling up to your side

If you start rubbing his shell too with that soft affection, he’s swooning

~~~~~~~~~

Sorry if this took a while, I was trying to draft up some ideas and stuff. But I hope this is to your liking nesting-dreams! （≧∇≦）

[mint-yooxgi]

{14} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa near the end, Slight Hongjoong)

Words: 16,125

Warnings: Brief mentions of anxiety and PTSD (not OC), mentions of blood, weapons. Smut: Oral (m. rec.), subby!Hwa, minor knife play and begging, I think that's it. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I'm glad I split this into two parts. I knew it was going to be long! And boy oh boy, who's excited for the next chapter? I'm excited for the next chapter! iykyk ;)) As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen

There’s an eager spring to your step as Yeosang leads you over to a side door, of which he’s just made materialize in front of your eyes. Not even the grumbling of the other seven males behind you can bring down your mood, excitement coursing through your veins as he opens the door, holding it open for you to step through in the next second.

“I’m still not used to you all being able to do that.” You comment, smiling at Yeosang in thanks as you step into the new room.

It’s a bit dark, so you can’t quite see much, but you can feel them all stepping in behind you.

“It’s great for hiding things in plain sight.” San comments, attempting to step in beside you, only for Yeosang to take his place in an instant.

“I can imagine- holy shit!” The moment the lights come on, you’re greeted by a room full of bows and arrows of various shapes and sizes.

Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as you take in the grand space before you. It’s a simple room in all aspects, square in design with mounts and racks to hold all of the various weapons that you can just tell all belong to Yeosang. Not that you would doubt that for even a minute.

Softly, you hear the sound of the door shutting behind you.

Pure excitement thrums through your veins, your body practically vibrating as you take in the space around you. Still, you keep your distance, not wanting to touch anything and risk damaging or breaking any of the various weapons lining the room. The urge to touch everything in sight is quite strong, and you cannot help the way your fingers twitch, almost subconsciously, at your sides.

“Go ahead, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles gently at you, a small nod to his head. “Don’t hold back.”

You do not need to be told twice.

Almost as soon as the words have left his mouth, you’re zipping over to the wall in front of you and inspecting all the different styles of bows. There’s a giddiness to your movements as you look over some more traditional, simplistic bows made of various materials such as metal and wood, to more intricately designed ones. Each weapon varies in colour, some curving in a singular arch, while others curve like stereotypical ‘m’ shaped birds in children’s drawings. Even the strings vary in colour, some being a pure white, while others are a dark red.

One bow in particular catches your eyes, and before you realize what you’re doing, you reach out to it. However, before you can so much as lay a single finger on the intricate carvings, you catch yourself.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you retract your hand.

A low chuckle sounds right behind you.

“It’s okay, Dearest,” Yeosang steps up to you, pressing himself against your back so that he can lean into you. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as his hands settle against your waist. “What’s mine is yours.”

A shiver caresses your spine, and you can practically feel him smirk against the skin of your neck.

“I just don’t want to damage anything,” you mutter, still unsure of if you should reach out and touch the gorgeous bow resting before you.

“Believe us, Darling,” Jongho comments, and you can just hear the affectionate smile that he wears in his voice as he speaks. “You don’t have to worry about damaging anything. Our weapons are made with the strongest materials available to us. You couldn’t put a scratch on them, even if you tried.”

“Not to mention the magic we imbue them with for extra protection,” Yunho hums.

Understanding flashes across your features, nodding your head almost subconsciously. Still, your eyes briefly dart over to Yeosang one last time, who’s head rests just beside your own. As soon as you see him smile and nod, you take that intricately carved bow into your hands.

Vines appear to wrap themselves around the shaft of the bow, leaves branching out in intricate designs over the wood. The string is a solid white, while the colour of the bow itself is an almost faded grey, appearing a misty green in the light. It’s not very heavy by any means, but just from merely looking at the bow, you can tell that it’s strong.

Carefully, your fingers trace over the carvings, nothing but pure wonder shining in your eyes. “Did you carve this yourself?”

You feel Yeosang nod against your shoulder, and your lips part in awe as a low gasp escapes you.

“Wow.”

“We make all of our own weapons, My Divine.” Seonghwa makes sure to keep his tone soft as he informs you of this, not wanting to disturb the moment that’s settled around you all. “Have been since the beginning.”

“That’s incredible.” You breathe out, turning to face the other seven males with that bow still in your hands. “You’re all incredible!”

The way they all smile shyly in response says it all.

“Seriously, is there anything you all can’t do?” You turn your attention back to the bow in your hands, heart thundering as you stroke a hand down the shaft of the bow.

Mingi’s lips part in response, but at the quick jab of San’s elbow to his ribs, he’s closing it.

You quirk a brow in amusement, not needing to be able to read his mind to know he was about to remind you all that he can’t cook once again.

Sparing another glance around the room, your eyes catch on another intricately carved bow. Another gasp is escaping your lips as you waddle over to it excitedly, noticing how the two tips seem to be shaped like serpents which appear to intertwine intricately with one another to make the body of the bow.

“Literally, these are so beautiful.” You say, eyes scanning over every detail that you can.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, My Dear,” Yeosang chuckles, his one hand settling onto the small of your back as you walk around the room.

“This is one of the best days of my life,” you reply honestly, walking over to the wall of arrows across from you.

In no time at all, Yeosang launches into an explanation of all the different types of arrows he uses. The majority, he’s made himself, while others have been a collaboration between him and his brothers. Wooyoung more than happily chimes in when the different poison arrows are mentioned, the two of them detailing how each poison is administered depending on the arrow. Some are injected through the shaft, while other arrows are coated in the poison which gets administered through point of contact.

The whole time, you listen intently. Your eyes never lose that shine of wonder, lips pulling upwards in a radiant smile as they all observe you taking this all in. The fact that you appear so interested, and ecstatic to learn about all of this is making their hearts sing, and their souls come alight.

Finally, they can share this with you, too.

“So,” you turn back to Yeosang after he’s finished describing how his shattering arrows work. “Which one is your favourite?”

The way his eyes light up even further at your inquiry says it all.

“Design wise,” immediately, he’s pointing at the bow carved to resemble those two intertwined snakes. “Functionality, though, is a different story.”

Leading you back over to the main wall that you had grabbed the intricately carved bow with the vines from, he’s quick to grab another off of a hook. It’s quite simplistic in design, smooth black edges greeting your vision. The bow appears to be made out of some sort of thin metal, the edges sharp in the light of the room.

Ever so carefully, Yeosang trades the bow in your hand which you have yet to let go of with this new one. He’s quick to place the wooden one back on the wall as you marvel at how light this new bow is, holding it in the air slightly beside your head.

“The edges can cut through steel.” He comments casually.

“More like anything that you can imagine.” San chuckles, crossing his arms lightly.

Anticipation claws at his chest. Really, anticipation claws at all of their chests. If this is how you’re reacting to Yeosang’s weapons, then they each cannot wait for you to see their own collections. The wonder and awe alone is enough to satiate their original burning jealousy that had arisen at the fact that it was Yeosang who managed to both get you to use his weapon with him first, as well as show you his collection.

“What’s it made out of?” You ask, nothing but curiosity to your tone as you inspect the bow. You know better than to run your fingers along the sharp edges, but that does not stop you from turning it over slightly in your hands while gripping the handle.

“It’s a special kind of metal found only in our realm.” Mingi tells you. “Most of our weapons are made out of it, since it’s the lightest material we have, while also being the most durable.”

“So, it’s like vibranium from the marvel universe?” You quirk a brow at all of them, somewhat knowingly.

“You could say that.” Seonghwa chuckles, nodding his head lightly in response to your words.

“We call it Sage Metal,” Hongjoong says. “It’s the only thing strong enough to cut itself.”

“Wow,” you repeat your awe filled exhalation from earlier. “Can it be worked like any other metal, or is there a special process you have to use while forging it?”

“It can be worked like any other metal.” Seonghwa confirms, a sort of pride shining in his eyes as he watches you with a smile. “It’s got an insanely high boiling point though, so San and Mingi have the easiest time out of all of us working with it.”

At this, your brow quirks.

“We each have materials we work best with.” Mingi shrugs. “Just like we have preferred weapons we like to use.”

“That’s really cool!” You say, handing Yeosang back his bow.

“You should have seen the amount of times our workshops caught fire in the early days.” San jokes, the slightest of upturns to the corner of his lips. “Good thing we’re quick learners.”

“Yeah, that, and you didn’t want to singe all of your hair off again.” Wooyoung laughs, leading to him soon being chased around the small space by the elder male.

You laugh, “I take it that that happened more than once?”

“To all of us.” Seonghwa confirms, voice suddenly a bit strained as he seems to be recalling the memories right this very instant. Subconsciously, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Multiple times.”

A snort of laughter escapes you this time, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.

Amused quirks of their brows greet you in response, and you find yourself waving your free hand in front of yourself. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just really funny to imagine. I like knowing you guys weren’t always this composed.”

This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to snort out a laugh, “Angel, when have you ever known us to be composed around you?”

You take a moment to consider his words, even going so far as to lift a finger in protest as your lips part. Then, you’re nodding, eyebrows raising in agreement, “A good point.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jongho rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as a huff escapes him.

You simply quirk a brow in amusement at him, your one hand coming up to rub almost teasingly at the side of your neck where he bit you all those weeks ago.

Subtly, red begins to creep up his neck.

“Right, well,” he clears his throat, “Shall we move on to the next room?”

A few side-eyed looks are sent the youngest’s way in response, and you swear you see both Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s eyes flash black for the briefest of moments. However, before you can think too much on it, San is practically grabbing your hand and dragging you away from Yeosang. All too eagerly, the younger male leads you back over to the door you entered into the room from. A second later, he’s opening it and guiding you through.

Your eyes immediately light up at seeing all of the different spears, tridents, and javelins lining the walls, amongst other pole based weapons. Again, they’re all made form a range of materials in a variety of colours, and each design manages to take your breath away.

“Go wild,” San leans in to whisper in your ear, just as you hear the door fall shut behind you.

A large, giddy smile pulls onto your lips as you immediately race over to the one wall. There’s a specific spear that’s caught your eye, and the closer you get to the tip, the more detail work you can see carved into it. There seems to be a pattern of sorts etched into the metal, unfamiliar to you with all its swirls and shapes, but beautiful nonetheless.

The entire room is silent as you stand there, observing the intricate detailing of the spear’s tip. Each male watches you fondly, enjoying this moment for as long as they possibly can. Seeing your wonder and marvel at all of the designs makes their hearts race, and knowing that you’re enjoying yourself currently means the world to each and every single one of them.

Finally, you begin to move around the room, San right beside you the whole time.

“I feel like I’m in an art museum or something.” You admit lowly, voice airy and full of awe.

“Well, designing and forging weapons is simply another form of art.” Yunho nods his agreement.

“And you’ve all been making these your whole lives?” You turn to glance at the others from over your shoulder.

Small nods of confirmation greet you in response, subtle smiles pulling at all of their features.

“It’s why we take such great lengths to store them.” Yeosang adds. “Only we can access these rooms, for they are intricately linked, and can only be entered through this one door.”

Nothing but awe shines in your eyes as your lips part. A breathless ‘wow’ escapes you once more, turning lightly in a circle as you take in the whole room.

“Then, there are eight rooms?” You turn back to face them.

“Eight main ones, yes.” San says. “We have many storage rooms, and way too many weapons we no longer use.”

“That’s not to mention each of our own forges which are connected to our storehouses.” Seonghwa comments casually, leaning against the wall right beside the door.

“So, the rooms are almost like a labyrinth of sorts?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry.

“You could say that.” Hongjoong chuckles. “It’s more of individual blocks of rooms floating in limbo within our domain until we summon the rooms to this door.”

“Ah,” you nod slowly in understanding. “I see.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards. “That’s still really cool.”

Little do you see the small, bashful smiles that tug at their features as you look away for the moment.

Turning back to face the tridents, you take in the various styles lining the wall. Some are placed vertically, while others sit horizontally, displaying the many pikes on each.

Two in particular - one silver with five prongs, and one gold with three prongs - catch your eye. Both are shiny, appearing as if they might be the newest to his collection as they are displayed side by side on a slight angle. It’s as if he purposely hung them like this; to emphasize the set they seem to make together. They’re quite familiar, and as you get closer, you realize why.

The silver one is a perfect replica of Queen Atlanna’s trident from the Aquaman film, while the gold is a perfect replica of Arthur’s own.

The way San is staring at you, his eyes shining with nothing but affection with just a hint of nervousness, says it all.

You smile, grabbing his hand in your own. Softly, you squeeze, warmth flooding your chest as you understand exactly what his intentions are. He made these for you, and him. He means for the two of you to use these together. The set never meant to be separated, or be without the other in battle.

For a brief moment, you allow him passed your void.

My Aquaman. You hum, squeezing his hand once more. Thank you.

My Queen, He mirrors your smile, his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit as he squeezes your hand back. I’m just glad you like them.

Like them? You reply, rather eagerly. Sannie, I love them.

The soft giggle he lets out fills the room, his eyes crinkling in the corners with the weight of his happiness. I’m glad.

Softly, you wiggle your intertwined hands in the space between your bodies. Not even a moment later, you’re turning back to the wall of tridents, lifting your gaze to take in the ones near the top of the wall. That’s when another, near the corner of the room, catches your attention.

A gasp escapes you. “No way.”

Rushing over to the trident, you end up half dragging, half pulling San along with you. You’ve closed your void to him now, so he cannot get a sense of what it truly is that’s caught your attention. That is, until you’re speaking once more.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you have an exact replica of Finnick’s trident from Catching Fire?” You quirk a brow, glancing at him briefly.

San grins, lifting said object off of the wall. “I figured it would be a nice surprise.”

“You seem to be full of nice surprises today, Pretty Boy.” You grin right back, watching as he handles that trident carefully before you.

“So, that’s what you ran off to make that one day,” Jongho mumbles, understanding painting his features. “I was wondering why you were asking me all those questions about her favourite book series.”

“I do love The Hunger Games.” You nod, eyes widening in excitement as San hands you the trident. “Finnick is my favourite character.” Then, a moment’s pause as you look over the weapon in your hands. “Him and Annie deserved better.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nodding solemnly along with your words.

“I thought it was that set he made that day,” Hongjoong motions back to the Aquaman tridents proudly on display.

“I had to start with something easier,” San replies, sparing a look at all of his brothers.

“You count this design as easy?” You voice, incredulously, as the fingers of your one hand come up to trace the pole gently.

San only chuckles in response, offering you a small shrug of his shoulders.

“I don’t blame him.” Mingi hums, glancing from Jongho to Seonghwa. “There seems to be a recurring theme of making replicas of weapons belonging to your favourite characters and series, Starlight.”

“Speaking from experience, Min?” You place the trident back in its spot, moving over to where the others are standing after having your fill of looking around.

“You’ll see.” He chuckles, moving to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

Only, the youngest placing his hand onto the small of your back beats him to it. You nearly shiver from the contact, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into your bare skin. 

That’s when you remember: you’re still only in your sport’s bra for the moment.

A glare is sent Jongho’s way, not just from Mingi, but from San as well. Your time in his weapon’s hold was far too short for his liking, but at least you enjoyed yourself. A bonus? You’re still beaming as Jongho leads you back through the door.

The moment you step through the threshold to be surrounded by axes of every size, shape, and colour, your lips part in a gasp, “Oh my.”

On one wall, throwing axes and hatchets are displayed. The opposite, everything ranging from a typical fireman’s axe, to the most intricately designed single bladed axes reside. On the final wall, double bladed axes reside, one sticking out more than the rest.

Your eyes widen, practically running out of Jongho’s hold as you see the axe resting in the centre display. It’s dual blades are familiar to you, the metal smooth before giving way to two sets of three triangles hollowed out on either side of the shaft. There, detailed rune work resides, and you find you can only place your hand over your heart in attempts to quell its beating.

“I see what you mean.” You swallow thickly, nearly jumping as you feel Jongho’s hand return to the small of your back.

“It’s quite effective in battle,” Jongho mentions casually, leading you over to the wall of hatches to show you the two other small axes that Gimli has in his arsenal that he’s also taken the liberty to make.

“You’ve already used Gimli’s axe in battle?” There’s nothing but wonder in your voice as you look at him, your whole body practically vibrating in excitement.

“Not yet, technically.” He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “But the simulations have all run smoothly.”

You turn back to the weapons before you, nothing but wonder in your eyes, “Wow.”

You’re starting to notice a slight pattern to the rooms now. All of them seem to be about the same size, with their weapons all lining the walls. Some of them even have a few extra racks to hold certain designs, but for the most part, the main wall houses what you assume to be the favourites, while the other side walls hold the smaller designs. They’re all organized quite well, and from the gleam you can see coming from each polished weapon, you can tell that they are all well taken care of, and maintained regularly.

Something they seem to have in common for all of the things that they care for - a great sense of both responsibility, and attention to detail when looking after them.

“Come, there’s another one I want to show you.” Jongho gently guides you to the opposite wall.

Sticking out his hand, an axe comes flying off of the wall from higher up. It spins in the air as it travels the short distance to his hand, the dark silver of the single edged blade glinting in the light. There seems to be a smaller blade protruding from the opposite side of the handle, acting as a continuation of the main blade on the other side.

The instant it touches Jongho’s hand, your eyes are widening as another gasp escapes you. The veins of gold carved into the blade stand out starkly against the darkness of the silver. The wooden handle is slightly curved, the blade itself covering almost half of the length of the wood.

“No way you made Kratos’ Leviathan Axe.” Your voice holds nothing but awed disbelief as you look over every inch of that axe Jongho holds out for you. “And you can summon it to your hands like he can in the game?”

“We can summon all of our weapons to our hands like that, My Love.” Hongjoong chuckles, eyebrows raising in amusement as he sees the glare Jongho sends him for stealing his thunder.

“How does it work?” You spare a glance at all of them around the room.

“Usually just requires a drop of our blood and a binding spell.” Seonghwa explains.

“So, that’s how you can make your weapons appear out of thin air?” You ask, wonderstruck. “Not cause you’re doing something like reaching through realms, or into a pocket of space?”

Yunho chuckles, along with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi.

“No, Petal,” he grins fondly at your curious expression. “Unfortunately we cannot do that, but it is how we are able to summon our weapons to us instantly.”

“Does it work on other things, too?” You inquire, nearly dropping the axe in your excitement as Jongho hands it to you.

“It works on anything we bind ourselves to in that way.” Mingi confirms.

“So, if you wanted to summon each other?” You tilt your head slightly as you finally get a good grip on the handle of the axe. “It’d be different than your transportation thingy?”

“Slightly.” Hongjoong confirms. “Think of it as a mere aspect of our teleportation.”

“But still different than a proper summoning spell.” Yeosang adds.

You nod, spinning that axe slowly in your hands as you look over the detail work.

“Would it work in battle?” You glance upwards. “If you ever needed to save each other from a killing blow? Or if one of you needed back up?”

“Normally, we’d just use our teleportation for that.” Mingi shrugs, leaning against an open part of the wall.

“That’s fair,” you hum, eyes shifting their focus back to the axe in your hands.

Where the gems would normally reside, you’ve noticed two other small jewels in their place. One is an opal, and the other is your own birthstone. A fact of which makes you smile, for you know both are meant to represent you and Jongho.

“With this summoning thing, is it automatic if you think of the item?” You hand Jongho the axe back, not wanting to risk damaging it right now as your curiosity is getting the better of you.

“It’s practically second nature to us now.” Wooyoung confirms with a nod. “The closer the object, the easier it is to summon it.”

“That makes sense.” You nod, eyes catching on another intricately carved axe for the moment. “Oh!”

The blade is hollowed in some areas, giving a sort of skeleton design to the metal. It’s intricately carved, the design looking more for style than functionality. However, you know that it’s more than likely made out of that Sage Metal that they told you about earlier. The axe is more than durable, and certainly functional.

“This is beautiful,” you breathe, tracing the spaces in the metal lightly with your index finger. Of course, you make sure not to touch the edges of the metal, not wanting to cut yourself on accident. Who knows how they would react to that.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Jongho whispers lowly into your ear as he steps up behind you, wrapping you in his arms.

A snort of laughter escapes you, lips parting in disbelief.

“Oh, Baby Bear,” you chuckle lowly, shaking your head. “Please don’t say such cringy things to me. You’re more suave than that.”

You don’t have to look at him to see the giant pout Jongho now wears on his features, only deepened by the laughter of his brothers.

“Oh, can it.” He turns to them, a frown on his features. “You were all thinking it, too.”

Again, you shake your head, lovingly this time. “What am I going to do with all of you?”

Wooyoung slides right up to your side, pulling you out of Jongho’s embrace and into his own. Carefully, he begins leading you back to the door.

“Love us unconditionally for all eternity?” There’s a hint of hope in his eyes, swirling within that all too familiar admiration and adoration you’ve become so used to from him. 

From all of them.

You hum, pretending to think about it for a moment. You stop just before the closed door, sparing a glance around at all of them briefly.

You smile lovingly, “That can be arranged.”

Low hums of content greet your ears as you reach forward to open the door. You do not need to look at them to know that they are gazing at you with nothing but a tender fondness in their eyes right now. You can feel it surrounding you as you step through the door, flooding your veins and comforting you right down to your very core.

Their unspoken response rings loud and clear through your mind, despite your void still being up. There is no doubt in your mind that they will do the same: love you unconditionally for all eternity. They’ve already proven, in more ways than one, that they do.

The moment you refocus in on the room surrounding you, your eyes catch on bottles upon bottles lining the shelves built into every free inch of the walls of this room. Various colourful liquids reside inside, some even appearing to glow with how vibrantly they shine beneath the lights. Small vials rest beside them, and you think you know what rests inside those.

Understanding flashes across your features and you turn to Wooyoung who practically shakes in excitement beside you.

“So, which one is the deadliest?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.

A giddy smile stretches across his features, which then slowly morphs into a sly smirk, “No hesitation, huh, Angel?”

“I’m curious,” You shrug, nonchalantly.

He hums, “It’s just over here.”

Leading you over to a wall with the darkest liquids residing on the shelves, Wooyoung lifts his free hand. Instantly, a bottle of the blackest void comes rushing to his fingers, thick in texture and hardly sloshing around inside its container. Faintly, you swear you can hear hissing coming from his hand.

“There is no toxin more deadly than my own creations.” He tells you. “This one, though, is the worst.”

“Are you immune?” You glance up at him, a curious glint in your eyes.

“I’m immune to every poison you can imagine, and then some.” He hums, that grin still tugging at his features as he hands you the bottle of that thick black liquid. “But I always have antidotes close at hand.”

He motions around him to the small vials resting beside the bottles.

“We’re not as immune as he is to some of his creations.” Jongho grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.

“But most of them, you are?” You spare a glance at the rest of them standing over by the door.

“That would be correct, My Love.” Hongjoong nods. “His most deadly, he’s made sure we’re immune to.”

“It’s considerate, considering the amount of times he’s used us as guinea pigs for new concoctions.” San grumbles, narrowing his eyes pointedly at Wooyoung.

You turn your head back to the aforementioned male who seemingly shrinks slightly in his spot.

“You guys volunteer.” He mumbles.

“Yeah,” Yunho rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s cause we never actually know what we’re signing up for.”

“It’s not my fault you all have different side effects than what I intend sometimes!” Wooyoung counters, a large pout pulling at his features. “It’s not like it’s intentional.”

“Sometimes, I feel like it is.” Yeosang states, rather pointedly.

“I don’t know,” you hum. “Isn’t the point of vaccines to inject some of the original virus or disease into your body so you know how to fight off the living cells, were they to enter your system?”

“See. At least My Angel understands my methods!” Wooyoung perks back up, tightening the hold of his one arm that rests around your waist. “There’s a whole process! You can’t just be immune. It’s not in your blood!”

“And it’s in yours?” San’s brow quirks knowingly.

“Actually, yes. It is.” Wooyoung states, rather proudly. “Most of my poisons contain some aspect of my blood in them, whether diluted or pure. That’s why they can be so toxic.”

“That’s really cool!” You chime in, having way too much fun watching the thick liquid slide around in the bottle every time you tip it upside down.

“So, there!” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out playfully at his brothers.

“Are there any kinds of toxins you’ve made that have a different effect than just poisoning the victim?” You turn your attention back to Wooyoung. “You know, like paralysis, or something?”

“Do I ever!” Wooyoung practically bounces on his feet as he leads you to the opposite wall. “This one-“ he points to a bright pink liquid, “is similar to a sleeping drought, but too much will cause the heart to stop for any living thing.”

You nod, staring intently at the bottle in front of you.

“This one-“ he points to an almost transparent green liquid, “causes your muscles to seize and inflicts unbearable pain throughout the body. Great for immobilizing people, but not quite paralysis in it’s literal sense.”

“Oh, wow.” You observe said liquid carefully.

“I also have certain tonics that effect emotions, a person’s state of mind or being, as well as ones that can essentially put people into either a comatose state, or loosen their tongue if we need a ‘physical’ way to gather information for assassinations.” He explains.

“So, you have truth telling serums?” Your brow quirks, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.

“I have any and every type of tonic you can think of.” Wooyoung nods, quite proudly at that.

You nod, eyes never leaving that shelf in front of you.

“So, then,” you begin. “Which is a stronger aphrodisiac? Your blood, or one of your tonics?”

The sound of shattering glass sounds behind you, and you turn to see Seonghwa and Mingi both cursing to themselves. Bottles, or what’s left of them, lay broken at their feet, the sound of hissing greeting your ears as liquid seeps over the ground.

“Careful with those,” Wooyoung waves his hand, cleaning the mess in an instant. “Some mixtures are deadly, even to us, if cross contaminated with each other.”

“We’ll just make sure to knock into the non-fragile glass bottles, next time.” Seonghwa grumbles, wiping off the front of his shirt rather harshly.

“Glass bottles are the most effective containers for acidic poisons, especially if reinforced by magic.” Wooyoung states, matter of factly.

“But they can still shatter on impact with the floor.” Jongho quirks a brow, matter of factly.

“You win some, you lose some.” Wooyoung shrugs, before turning his attention back to you for the moment. “To answer your question, Angel, it would be this one right here.” A bottle with a liquid as clear as day is instantly in his one hand. “This is the strongest aphrodisiac we own, besides our blood.”

“Oh?” Your lips twitch upwards in the corner, brow quirking. “So, they’re on par with one another, then?”

“Not quite,” Wooyoung’s eyes begin to swirl with that all too familiar darkness. “This is just a little stronger, since it’s undiluted in that sense.”

You hum, “Interesting.”

“Why?” San’s voice, low and gravelly reaches your ears as his hooded gaze meets your own. “Want to give it a try?”

All eight sets of eyes are on you in an instant, darkness swirling within.

You smirk, “Perhaps some other time.”

Eight low growls reach your ears as you walk back over to the door. You can feel the weight of their heated stares on you, even as you glance towards them from over your shoulder.

“Shall we?” You drawl out, a teasing flick to your brows.

Yunho seems to be the first to recompose himself, quickly moving over to you and placing his hand onto the skin of your upper back. Gently, he guides you through the door, clearing his throat all the while.

“I don’t tend to use many weapons, so my storehouse is a bit of the miscellaneous designs we keep for the occasional use.” He explains. “I do tend to like shredding things, whether physical, or mental, though.”

Again, your eyes light up as you take in the various unconventional designs around you. You can tell they’ve experimented with multiple angles and materials, each weapon given certain liberties over the rest. Everything from large hammers to thin whips with metal spikes attached to them line the walls, allowing you to see the various techniques they all know how to use in battle depending on the weapon.

Serrated blades, tools, saws, and even some scythes and rifles also line the walls.

Your brow quirks at the cage of guns off to the side.

“For our assassinations, mainly.” Yunho is quick to tell you, to which you’re immediately nodding your head in understanding.

“Who’s the best sniper?” You turn to them, looking over each male individually.

“Seonghwa and Hongjoong are amazing.” Wooyoung immediately boasts, a proud smile tugging at his lips.

“Really, we’ve got nothing on Mingi, though.” Hongjoong says, averting his gaze somewhat bashfully as red creeps up his neck.

At Seonghwa’s nod in agreement, you turn to the aforementioned male. Lightly, a grin pulls at the corner of your lips.

You let Mingi in.

I always knew you were way cooler than James Bond. You meet his gaze with an affectionate look of your own. Definitely proves it.

Mingi giggles, brushing tenderly against your mind with his own as his eyes crinkle at the sides.

You turn back to the main wall of weapons. “You all contribute to this stockade, or is it more trial and error?”

“A little bit of both.” San says, the others nodding in agreement. “Sometimes we even get certain materials from our friends that we play around with when creating weapons.”

At this, your brow quirks.

“Well, sometimes we aren’t simply given things.” Wooyoung chuckles. “Like when Jongho used the teeth from the snakes of the last gorgon leader to make a tiny mace.”

Jongho simply glares at Wooyoung in response.

“Not going to lie, that’s pretty cool.” You reply, nonchalantly. “Do you guys have any transforming weapons?”

“Mingi made the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.” Seonghwa comments casually.

Your jaw drops. “You did not.”

The second Mingi sticks his hand out, a weapon flies off of the wall. Sure enough, holding it out to you reveals it to be a life-size replica of the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.

“Holy shit.” There is no hiding the awe in your eyes as he passes it to you, you giggling like a maniac soon after.

“If I recall, Mingi’s made a lot of replicas of From Soft weapons.” Yeosang adds, humming lightly to himself.

“You have?” That awe filled gaze of yours is back on Mingi, who’s neck begins to turn bright red as he nods. “That’s incredible!”

He lifts a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”

“Moonlight, I wish you wouldn’t downplay your skills sometimes.” You comment, patting his arm affectionately. Then, you’re practically bouncing on your feet as the Beastcutter is returned to its original spot. “Now, show me, show me, show me!”

Mingi chuckles lowly, “Of course, Starlight.” He leads you back to the door, his arm gently finding purchase around your waist. “Right this way.”

Carefully, Mingi guides you through the door and into his own storehouse of weapons, his brothers following closely behind. The sound of the door shutting is synonymous with your gasp, your eyes practically shining as you take in the sets of weapons lining the walls, mainly consisting of dual blades.

At one particular set that is bright red, the edges of the blades artfully chipped, a dramatic gasp escapes you.

“No way!” You point at the blades, scurrying over to them while hopping around on your feet. “You made the Rivers of Blood from Elden Ring into a two sword set?”

“I had to compromise a bit on length, but the design is the same.” He shrugs, plucking them off of the wall and giving them each a spin in his hands.

You practically swoon as a result. “Somebody pinch me, I’m in heaven.”

Low chuckles resound around the room, each male loving how your excitement never seems to cease for even one moment. The fact that Mingi continues to captivate you currently by performing small tricks with the blades has them beaming. Though, a few, such as Hongjoong, Jongho, and Seonghwa, all wish it were them that were impressing you in such a way instead.

Again, Mingi chuckles, placing the Rivers of Blood back in their spot before pulling two other katanas off of the wall. They also seem familiar to you, though you can’t seem to figure out why.

“I dubbed these ones my Deadpool set.” Mingi explains with a grin, giving them each a spin in his hands.

“I was wondering why they looked so familiar,” You hum, nodding slightly. “If you pull out the Blades of Chaos next, I might need to sit down.”

The grin Mingi wears is nothing short of gleeful as he replaces the katanas on the wall. In a blink, he holds out his hands, chains wrapping around his forearms before a dual set of particularly carved blades appear held in his grip.

You physically feel your legs give out beneath you, a hand coming up to press against your forehead as you fall backwards.

Luckily, Yunho appears just in time to catch you.

“I’m dreaming.” You mutter lowly, nothing but awe in your voice. “This is a dream, and I’m in heaven.”

More fond chuckles greet your ears.

“It’s a shame the blades are more for show than anything,” Mingi somewhat pouts. “Still worth seeing every one of your reactions, though, Starlight.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard something about them being impractical in real life cause of the chains or something.” You manage to right yourself on your feet, affectionately patting Yunho’s hands which he keeps wrapped around your waist. “The blades could still be effective on their own, though. Can they not?”

The grin that stretches across Mingi’s face says it all.

“Now, if you go around bathing them in fire as you use them, I might faint for real.” You comment casually.

His eyebrow quirks, “Promise?”

“You want me to faint?” You snort out a laugh.

“If it’s from something cool that I’ve done,” Mingi shrugs, storing the blades back in their place. “Why not?”

“Touché.” You hum, sparing another glance around the room. Your eyes catch briefly on a set of blades, curved to resemble human spines. You smile. “Seriously guys, this is incredible.”

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, nothing but tender fondness reflected in his eyes.

“Like I said, this is one of the best days of my life.” You breathe out. “I’ve always had a fascination with different types of weapons since I was small. It’s nice not having to hide my excitement about them anymore. Especially about ones that I long since thought could only be used in fictional settings, or for cosplay.”

“Hearing you rant and rave about certain styles of weapons when we watch those…” Jongho grimaces slightly, irritation shining briefly on his features, “Let’s Players, sticks with us, you know.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Jacksepticeye, Baby Bear.” You quirk a brow.

At the few grumbles you hear, you begin to laugh.

“You seem to be overtly fond of him.” Hongjoong mutters lowly.

You shrug. “He’s funny.”

Low growls sound from Yeosang, Mingi, San, and Seonghwa.

“Again, just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean I don’t.” You remind them.

“That’s the problem, Angel.” Wooyoung mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The fact I find him entertaining?” You quirk a brow, noticing how they remain quiet for the most part. “Wait, is this why you all started playing God of War and Bloodborne? So, I wouldn’t watch his play-throughs anymore?”

“No.” Jongho answers, much too quickly.

“We also needed to get better insight of the weapons when making them.” Mingi says, matter of factly.

A smack is given to the elder male from the youngest as you stare at them knowingly. Then, your eyes seemingly glaze over, deep in thought.

“You said you make weapons out of materials sometimes gifted to you from others, right?” Your brow is furrowed as you step out of Yunho’s embrace, much to the male’s discontent.

“That’s correct.” Yeosang confirms.

You hum to yourself, beginning to pace back and forth as your mind reels.

“How strong are dragon teeth?” You pause, lifting your head to spare a glance at all of them.

Understanding flashes behind their eyes.

“They are extremely durable and versatile, My Divine.” Seonghwa replies, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Some of the strongest bones in all the realms. Other than their horns, of course.”

“And baby dragon’s teeth?” You quirk a brow.

“Not as durable, but strong all the same.” Yunho confirms.

Again, you hum, shifting to face Hongjoong. “Can I see Mon’s teeth for a moment?”

By the time you’ve extended your hands, Hongjoong has that green cloth placed upon your palms. You turn just in time to see a wooden table appear beside you, the guys all moving in to stand around it as you work.

Carefully, you unwrap the package that is Mon’s baby teeth. Once you have that cloth covering the main portion of the table, you begin arranging them in a particular pattern. Slowly, a triangle begins to form, Mon’s teeth outlining the shape.

“Our conversation just now gave me an idea,” you begin, righting yourself so you’re no longer hunched over the table. “A bit literal for serrated teeth, but I think it works well.”

A gentle hand is placed onto your lower spine curtesy of Mingi. Sparing a glance at him reveals his lips to be tugging upwards into a proud smile.

“I don’t know how the logistics will work, but if you can make the Beastcutter, then I’m sure you can make a Saw Spear,” You meet Mingi’s gaze. “No?”

A pride swirls behind his gaze, his chest puffing out the slightest bit. “I think that can be arranged.”

The smile that takes over your features lights up the entire room, excitement pouring off of you in waves. “Really?”

“Most definitely.” San confirms with a nod. “We can all help with this one.”

“You’d all really do this for me?” You spare a glance at all of them, noticing how tenderly they look at you.

“Of course!” Wooyoung confirms eagerly. “It’s not every day Our Queen asks us to make her her own weapon.”

You share an excited giggle.

“Listen, I want to be able to have something to call my own,” you grin. “Preferably not just a bat. I’m not sure how intimidating our enemies will find me only wielding a weapon like that.”

“Believe me, Baby,” San chuckles. “You’re plenty intimidating with a bat.”

“So I’ve heard.” You smile slyly.

“We could make you a personalized bat, too, Dearest.” Yeosang offers. “Anything and everything your heart desires, know that it’s yours.”

Lifting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes crinkle as your smile morphs into a loving one. 

“How about we start with this for now?” You say softly. “I’m sure I’ll think of more when the time comes. Believe me when I say there’s no shortages of weapon’s designs in my mind. But for now, there’s still two more main storehouses to see, and I’d also love to see a forge if there’s time. I am getting hungry.”

“Well then,” Yunho nods, noticing how his brothers all wear the same look of affection spreading across his face in this moment. “What are we waiting for?”

Leaving Mon’s teeth laid out on the table at their request, you walk back over to the door. This time, it’s Hongjoong that opens it, stepping through to hold it as you follow shortly behind.

If you’re being honest with yourself, his and Seonghwa’s rooms are the ones you’re most anticipating. Long since have you fantasized about what their own blades will look like, and now, you find your whole body shaking with excitement as you step through the threshold.

The instant you see the wall of daggers before you, a loud gasp escapes you. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, eyes flitting all over the weapons on display before you. Everything from ceremonial daggers, to jewelled blades rest before you in an array of designs. There even seems to be a small display case in front of the main wall with a dagger inside, resting upon a cushion. It looks familiar to you, and as you get closer, you realize why.

There seems to be a blade missing from the set, but you say nothing. Still, you cannot help but to zero in on that cushion, noting the slight indent where the second dagger should reside.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Hongjoong stiffen, but you opt to say nothing for now.

Sets of throwing knives line the one wall, some collections housing upwards of twenty blades. You take the time to observe everything, walking slowly around the room and taking it all in. Each blade manages to take your breath away, your heart racing erratically in your chest as excitement courses through your veins.

Hongjoong, you notice, still remains unusually quiet. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks nervous, especially when you glance towards that display case in front of the main wall every now and again.

Turning to the others, you smile lightly, “Do you mind giving us a minute?”

A few quirked brows are sent your way in response, but they comply, nonetheless.

“We’ll meet you in your storeroom, okay, Mars?” You catch his gaze, noticing how he nods in understanding as soon as the words escape you.

Slowly, you watch as they all step through the door, and only once you see it fall shut, the small click resounding throughout the room, do you turn back to face Hongjoong.

There’s an almost reserved look in his eyes as he avoids your gaze. Slowly, he shifts from foot to foot, his hands clasped in front of himself.

Your expression falls.

Silently, you approach him, gently lifting his hands into your own.

“What’s wrong, My Love?” Your inquiry is soft, giving his hands a small squeeze in order to coax him to meet your eyes.

He’s unusually silent as he shakes his head, staring intently at your intertwined hands.

Normally, this room is a huge sense of pride for him. However, as soon as he saw you glance the display case with only the one dagger inside, his heart plummeted. Selfishly, he kept it there in its spot because he could not bring himself to get rid of it. Now though, he fears he made the wrong call, for that pillar acts as a stark reminder of every misdeed he’s ever performed. That case stands almost mockingly; a tombstone that could have been yours.

“Hongjoong,” Worry pulls at your brow as you lift a hand up to guide his gaze to yours. Tenderly, your thumb brushes against his cheek. “You’re unusually quiet right now, and I’m extremely concerned. I thought you’d be ecstatic to show me your collection today.”

He purses his lips, and you can see a hint of fear flash behind his eyes.

“Is this about the set of daggers in that case?” Your tone is nothing but gentle.

The way he stiffens beneath your touch says it all.

The way that you can tell that this is affecting him negatively has your heart squeezing painfully in your chest. It’s clear to you that Miyeon still has her claws buried deep within his guilt, and all you want to do is reassure him as best you can in this moment. Only, you’re not quite sure how.

“They were-“ he clears his throat of the roughness that resides in his voice, “They were meant to be ours.”

Your gaze shifts to the small display case where that lone blade sits.

“The daggers,” You breathe.

He nods. “I made them for us.”

You squeeze his one hand once more, gently guiding him over to the display case so you can get a closer look.

Still, he refuses to so much as glance at that singular dagger.

“I wanted that one to be yours, and the other to be mine, but she-“ his voice hitches, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t think I could ever look at my dagger the same way again. Not after what she did to you with it. Yet, I can’t bring myself to destroy the set. It held so much meaning to me when I made them, that I just-”

He doesn’t finish his thought. Instead, his shoulders droop and he turns the slightest bit away from you.

Shame weighs heavy on his shoulders, regret adding its toll.

You take a moment to observe the dagger in the case. It’s certainly familiar, but you notice slight discrepancies to the one you’ve already seen. This dagger’s blade is slightly thinner, the handle carved in the opposite direction to its matching pair. You can tell that they’re meant to be put together. A set, never to be separated.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You turn to him, and your words finally draw a reaction from him. “Destroy them, I mean.”

“My Love?” There’s clear surprise on his features, not having expected you to say anything along those lines.

If Hongjoong is being honest with himself, he expected you to start cursing him out for not getting rid of the very weapon that caused you such harm. He was certain that you’d be screaming at him, asking him why he would keep such vile weapons around after what they did to you.

To say your tender look of affection shocks him would be a great understatement.

“You still have the other dagger, then?” You ask him softly, rubbing your thumb tenderly over the back of his hand.

Slowly, albeit hesitantly, he nods.

“May I see it?” The question is gentle in all meaning of the sense, making sure to keep your voice low as you look at him with kind eyes.

A moment’s hesitation before he nods. Then, he has the other dagger in his free hand, holding the handle out for you to take.

Meeting his gaze, you smile assuringly at him. Maintaining eye contact, you gently slip that dagger out of his hold, gripping it firmly in your one hand. Only then do you spare a glance down at one of the weapons that had caused you such pain all those long weeks ago.

Just as you thought, this one is slightly bigger, the blade both a little thicker and longer in length.

“This one was meant to be yours?” You lift your gaze to his, noticing how intently he watches you in this very moment.

He nods.

You let your intertwined hands fall to rest in the space between your bodies, letting them sway gently back and forth.

“Will you hold onto mine?” There’s nothing but a hopeful gleam to your eyes as you watch him nod.

Slowly, he unlocks the case. Once the glass is opened, he lifts your dagger out with the utmost of care, holding it delicately in his hand. The way that he’s standing perfectly mirrors you in every way, and you cannot help the small upturn of your lips at that fact.

“Hongjoong, I wish to keep these daggers together,” you begin. At the way you see his lips part in protest, you’re quick to continue, “She was the one who used it to hurt me, not you. I know for a fact that you would rather carve out your own heart than bring me any harm. Your dagger didn’t hurt me. She did.”

The hitch in his breath is audible, even to you.

“I know you may not have intended it this way, but I wish to keep this one as my own.” You lift the dagger in your hand slightly. “And I wish for you to use that one. Let me reclaim the weapon that was used to hurt me, and know that it is meant to symbolize your undying loyalty and protection. Let me wield you in battle, just as you will wield me when the time comes.”

The way your eyes flash over to that dagger held in his hand as you speak those words says it all.

“These daggers are for us, meant to protect each other.” You state, rather firmly. “I think it’s time we allow them the proper use. Don’t you?”

He swallows thickly, his lips parting as tears line his eyes. He squeezes your hand.

“Yes,” he breathes, nodding his head once quite firmly. He blinks, and the first of his tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “Yes, My Queen. Always.”

Softly, you smile at him, guiding him into your embrace as he buries his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his sobs wracking his body as he holds onto you tightly, clinging to you both for dear life, but also in gratitude for what this moment means to the both of you. No longer will you allow Miyeon to control either of you. It’s time to reclaim that which has been stolen. All of it.

Pulling away from him slightly, you stare deeply into his eyes. The corners of your lips tug upwards in a loving smile, and you manage to brush some stray hairs out of his eyes.

“I am so deeply in love with you, My King.” There is no waver in your voice as you say this, pouring every ounce of sincerity that you can into your words. “Know that nothing will ever change that.”

“My Queen,” The words are but a whisper on his lips as he pulls you tighter against him. “Thank you, for believing in me.”

The smile you offer him says it all, nothing but tender love and affection shining within your gaze as you lean forward to kiss him gently. A kiss which he is all too eager to reciprocate, letting the movement of his lips over your own tell you of all the ways in which he loves you. The ways in which he will always love you, and appreciate all that you mean to him.

All too soon, you’re pulling away in order to rest your forehead on his.

“The daggers are beautiful, My Love,” Your words are but a soft caress against his lips. “Thank you for keeping them as one.”

Hongjoong manages a small smile in response. “I am simply happy you like them, My Queen.”

“I love them, Joongie.” Your reply is immediate, pulling the slightest bit back from him to admire the detailing on the handles once more. “It means a lot to me that you made them for us.”

“Of course, My Love,” Gently, he returns them both to their spots on top of the cushion inside the display. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. In a soft voice, he admits, “I made them the day I knew I wanted you to become Our Queen.” He turns to you, eyes holding nothing but love for you swirling within that familiar darkness. “My Queen.”

Your expression softens, “All the more reason to keep them, and use them as you’ve always intended.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He chuckles lowly, offering you his hand as he steps in beside you.

Without any hesitation, you place your hand in his.

“I am curious, though,” you hum. “Did you keep the other one? The jewelled one from David’s shop?”

A blink, and that familiar dagger is in his free hand.

Your eyes go wide, a thrum of excitement going through you.

“I think it’s time it was given back to the woman who always deserved it,” He grins, a knowing glint in his eyes as he holds out the handle for you to take. “Don’t you?”

Eagerly, you nod your head, reaching out to take that dagger into your free hand.

You take a moment to look it over, twirling that blade in your grip lightly. A small smile rests on your features, eyes sparkling as you finally grasp the handle firmly in your hand.

Little do you see how fondly Hongjoong watches over you in this very moment. Though, from the way you lift your head to meet his gaze, you manage to catch the very look resting on his features.

“Thank you, Joongie,” You lean in to place an affectionate kiss upon his cheek. “This truly means a lot to me.”

“Your happiness means the world to me, My Love.” Hongjoong smiles, giving your one hand still held in his a small squeeze. “I’m simply glad you can finally have everything you’ve always desired.”

“It’s because of you, you know.” You turn to face him just as you reach the door. “I’ve only been able to achieve this because of you. Because of all of you.”

Hongjoong’s heart warms, and he leans in to place a lingering kiss upon your forehead. “Then, how wonderful it will be to spend the rest of eternity with one another.”

Your own heart swells with nothing but happiness, “How wonderful indeed.”

With a final squeeze of your intwined hands, you exit the room.

The moment you step into Seonghwa’s own weapon’s hold, you’re greeted by chaos. Both him and Mingi appear to be sparring with some of his swords, while Yeosang chases both San and Wooyoung around with a sword of his own. Yunho stands off to the side with Jongho, both males shaking their heads with their arms crossed over their chests.

“Did I miss something?” You quirk a brow playfully, successfully drawing their attention to both you and Hongjoong standing just inside the threshold of the door.

“Wooyoung and San were being smartasses, as usual.” Jongho shakes his head once more.

“Hey!” Said males whine at the same time.

“Then, why was Yeosang chasing you with- oh my god, is that Major General Armstrong’s sword?” You practically shove Wooyoung out of the way to take the sword from Yeosang’s grip. 

Unfortunately, you fail to miss the large pout that now pulls onto Hongjoong’s features as you essentially leave him in the dust in order to observe this new sword. Nor do you see the pout that Wooyoung wears as he looks to you with large, pleading eyes.

With your dagger held in your one hand, and the sword in the other, you take in the detailing of the metal. The floral design engraved on the length of the blade takes your breath away, and you begin shaking in excitement once more.

Then, you’re nodding to yourself almost subconsciously, “Very beautiful. Very powerful.”

“I’m glad you like it, My Divine.” Seonghwa chuckles affectionately, coming to stand beside you as the others return to their respective spots near the door. “Come, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Lifting your gaze, Seonghwa cannot deny the hitch in his breath as he sees your wondrous expression light up your features. The awe alone he can see says it all.

He swallows thickly.

Handing him the sword back, you finally take in the other blades residing on the surrounding walls.

“No way you have a wall full of just katanas- are those Zoro’s?” Another squeal leaves you as you rush over, gazing intently at the multiple swords lined up in a row.

Sure enough, upon closer inspection, the katanas in front of you correspond to the multiple ones Zoro has used throughout the course of One Piece.

“Seriously, I’m in heaven.” You sigh, dreamily.

Low chuckles sound from behind you, and you can feel all of their fond gaze on you as you dart around the room.

“No way!” A dramatic gasp escapes you as a particular blade catches your eye from across the room. “You made Sting?”

Just as you did with Yeosang’s bow in the first room, you go to reach out for it. Only, you hesitate, not sure if you should actually touch these weapons or not.

“Go ahead, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles, stepping in right beside you and placing a loving hand onto the skin of your lower back. “Please, don’t hold back.”

Practically shoving the dagger in your hands in his direction, you silently tell him to hold onto the jewelled blade while you lift Sting carefully off its display. Nothing but wonder resides in your gaze as you take in the detail work of the craftsmanship. The blade is unusually light, too, just as described in the book.

“If you tell me that this blade can also glow blue, I can and will faint right now.” You lift your gaze to his own, excitement pouring off of you in waves.

A soft chuckle falls from Seonghwa’s lips, “We’ll have to go visit some orcs, then.”

Your lips part, eyes widening as you visibly begin to shake. Not even a moment later, you’re zooming around the room, muttering to yourself about this being the best day of your life once more.

Hopping around the storehouse, you take in the rest of the swords lining the walls. You cannot keep the smile off of your face, almost subconsciously muttering a tune to yourself as you browse the selection of weapons before you.

“Oh, the wonders of weapons,” you hum, no longer paying any mind to the eight other males in the room, of whom watch you fondly. “The wonders of weapons of Kings.” You giggle. “My Lovely Kings.” 

They smile.

“My lovers are eight powerful, demonic Kings.” Your voice is low, but they still hear you loud and clear. A fact of which sets their hearts racing inside of their chests. “And I’m their One and Only Queen.”

Eight low growls of approval sound from behind you. Sparingly, you glance over your shoulder, offering them each a blissful smile.

“Today is a most wonderful day.” You continue to hum to yourself, bouncing around on the soles of your feet from one spot to another. “Spending it with the people I love.”

Rumbles of content fill the room, and you bound over to the eight of them with a vibrant smile lighting up your face. You take the time to give each one of them a kiss on the cheek, muttering how much you love them each time you do. A sentiment which is immediately echoed by each male as soon as you address them individually.

Still, you cannot prevent yourself from rocking excitedly on your feet as you see the large, dopey grins they offer you in return.

“Thank you.” You take the time to meet all of their gazes. “For today. For everything.” Your heart swells in your chest. “You all seriously don’t know how happy you make me.”

“The feeling is very much mutual, Petal.” Yunho hums, the same warmth that is currently flooding his chest heard clearly in his voice as he addresses you.

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang adds, clasping his hands almost lovingly in front of himself as he gazes at you fondly.

You nod, vigorously at that. “Can I see one of your forges, now?”

“Of course, My Divine.” Seonghwa extends his free hand out to you, your dagger still held tightly in his opposite hand.

“Oh, thanks for holding onto that for me, Mars.” You reach over, taking your dagger back from him as he walks you both over to the door. “I-“

Your words die in your throat as the door opens to reveal a grandiose space. There’s a large wooden table that lines the one wall, the forge worked into the opposite corner. A floor to ceiling window resides near the forge itself, displaying a beautiful field with mountains in the distance. Hardly any clouds line the sky, the sun shining and illuminating the space all around.

Various weapons line the room, stacked on top of each other or resting against the wall where various tools and materials hang. There even seems to be a closet off to the side, which you would bet anything houses even more weapons that are currently being worked on, or have even been finished.

“Wow,” You breathe out, nothing but wonder on your features as you take it all in.

Carefully, you place your dagger onto the top of the wooden table off to the side, spinning around a few times to take in the full room around you. Seonghwa, of course, gives you enough space to do so, watching you with such a tender look in his eyes.

“Do all of your workshops look the same?” You turn to face them.

“More, or less.” Jongho tilts his head slightly from side to side. “Some of our tools vary due to the types of weapons we forge, but the setup is pretty much identical.”

“That’s so cool!” You say, awe clear in your voice.

“If you peek through the window, you can actually see the outlines of all of our forges in the hills.” Yunho motions with his head for you to take a look.

Instantly, you’re at the window, eyes scanning the area to see multiple windows buried seemingly inside the hills just outside.

“Woah,” You turn back around to face them. “That must come in handy when you need to borrow things from each other while welding.”

“It is quite convenient.” Mingi nods in confirmation. “Especially if one of the others has a material you need while crafting.”

“I can imagine.” You hum, eyes flitting over the table and taking in all of the little trinkets scattered about.

There seems to be a whetting stone placed near the corner, some scraps of black leather cut into pieces along the top. Some tools rest here and there, but for the most part, the space is clean.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Hongjoong nudge Seonghwa with his elbow.

You quirk a brow.

Seonghwa clears his throat.,“Actually, I have two things I wish to give you, My Divine.”

“You do?” There’s nothing but wonder in your tone as you watch him move around his workspace.

For a brief moment, Seonghwa enters that little closet at the side of the room. When he comes back, both of his hands are held behind his back.

You blink, curiosity getting the better of you as you attempt to see what he could be hiding.

“This one, we all agreed on a long time ago.” He says, sharing a brief look around the room at his brothers who all smile softly at you in response. “I reinforced it, so it no longer has to be simply decorative. Unless you desire it to be.”

In one swift movement, Seonghwa pulls his right hand out from behind his back. A familiar silver sword rests there, jewels glinting in the light.

The gasp that escapes you is immediate as you see the matching sword to that dagger you had placed on his work table resting in his hand.

Ever so carefully, you reach forward, taking that sword from his grip as your eyes shine with nothing but love.

“My Kings?” You glance around at all of them, noticing how they all stare at you the exact same way you’re looking at them.

“Anything and everything your heart could ever desire, Angel,” Wooyoung whispers. “It’s yours.”

“I-“ you swallow thickly, admiring that sword now held in your hands. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles assuringly at you. “Know that we will always provide for you, in whatever ways that we can.”

“We love spoiling you, Baby,” San adds softly. “Knowing these are things that you’ve always wanted… well… it means a lot to us to see you happy; to make you happy.”

Your lips part, but no words escape you.

“Just let us take care of you.” Yeosang voices lowly, all seven of them nodding along to his words.

Again, you swallow the emotions building in your throat. Your grip tightens on that pommel in your hands, and you manage to blink away your building tears of joy.

“Thank you.” You take your time to meet each of their gazes. “I mean it. You all never fail to go above and beyond for me, and I will always cherish these moments, these gifts, more than you’ll ever know.”

Their smiles widen, hearts beating erratically in their chests.

“We’re just love seeing you happy, Starlight.” Mingi repeats San’s words from only moments ago, nothing but sincerity shining within all of their eyes.

“I still have one more sword to gift you, today, My Divine.” Suddenly, Seonghwa looks the slightest bit more nervous as he stands before you. “That is, if you’ll have it.”

“My Mars,” you hum, affection dripping from your gaze, “You could gift me a wooden sword, and I would cherish it until the end of time.”

Teasingly, Seonghwa’s eyes narrow as he spares a glance around the room. “Alright, who told?”

Almost instantly, Jongho starts whistling inconspicuously while San, Wooyoung, and Mingi all avoid Seonghwa’s gaze.

You giggle, and like every time before, it is music to every single one of their ears.

“It took me quite a few tries,” he begins, keeping his voice low and tone steady, “But I had to make sure it was perfect.”

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa presents you with the other sword he had been holding behind his back this whole time. He rests it carefully over his palms, holding it out to you with loving eyes as he watches your every reaction carefully.

The sheath is easily recognizable to you, the leather strap wrapped meticulously around it just as it is when the sword gets presented in the movie. The handle is every bit as gorgeous as you remember, the black leather wrapping around the pommel perfectly placed as the worked silver glints in the light.

Without taking your eyes off of that sword, you pass the one currently in your hands to the closest person beside you. Easily, Mingi takes it from you as you step in closer to Seonghwa.

You swallow your building emotions.

With shaking hands, you reach out to grasp that sword. You take one small step back before you’re unsheathing it in one fluid movement, the etchings in the metal bringing tears to your eyes.

Before you, held in your very grip, is an exact replica of Andúril.

“You made this for me?” Your voice comes out small, your overwhelming emotions threatening to choke you out at any second.

Briefly, your gaze flits from the markings on the blade to Seonghwa’s face, noting how he nods softly.

The whole time, his gaze never leaves you for a moment. Never does he want to miss even a single second of the wondrous expression you wear on your face. The fact that he can hear your heart racing says it all.

“Seonghwa, I-“ Your grip tightens around the handle of the sword, meeting his gaze once more. “When?”

He shuffles slightly from foot to foot, the others remaining silent out of respect for the moment being shared between the both of you right now.

“I started that day we got back from the mall.” His honest reply nearly sends you to your knees.

Again, your eyes trail over every inch of that sword before you. Your heart swells with nothing but love, feeling as if it’s close to bursting as you take in every minuscule detail of the blade. You can tell that he put in a tremendous amount of effort into forging this weapon for you, and given its meaning to you in its entirety, you know that he spoke true when he said that he wanted to make it perfect.

For you. 

He made this for you.

Something within your eyes flash, and you’re quick to sheathe that sword. The whole time, you never break eye contact with the male across from you, and despite the pounding of your heart that you can hear in your ears, a sense of complete calm washes over you.

“You seven,” you don’t even spare them so much as a glance of acknowledgement. “Out. Now.”

Words of protest die on Wooyoung’s lips as he gets pushed out of the room by both Jongho and Yeosang. Of course, just before the door closes, Seonghwa does not fail to miss the wink Yunho sends his way.

The sound of the door clicking shut is synonymous with the movement of Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You made this for me,” you begin lowly. “After hearing me say once that I have long since desired a replica of my own.”

He nods. Slowly.

“You didn’t hesitate for one moment to make this for me, did you?” Your inquiry is soft, despite the heated stare you wear.

He shakes his head.

You motion for him to come forward with your finger, backing yourself towards that wooden table as he begins stalking towards you. Not once does he break eye contact, obeying your every command without hesitation.

“Of all of the grandiose gesture you could make for me, this is the one that means the most.” You tell him honestly, your voice near breathless as you finally hit that table. Resting the sword against its side, you motion him closer. “There are no words to describe what this means to me; no gift more significant than that which you have just given.”

The moment he steps into you, your arms are around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Softly, your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck, and you notice how his suddenly hooded eyes continuously spare fleeting glances down to your lips. You smirk.

“A simple ‘thank you’ is not enough to convey what this means to me.” You whisper lowly, surprising him by flipping your positions so that he’s the one pressed against the table. “What you mean to me, Seonghwa.”

One of your hands sneaks down his torso, sending a shiver up his spine as he feels you caressing his side. Then, you pull him even closer, hoisting his thigh up so that his leg wraps around your waist.

“How about it, My King?” You hum, voice nothing but sultry as your lips barely ghost over the skin of his own. “Will you allow me to demonstrate my gratitude for you?”

“Yes,” The nod of his head is immediate as he all but whimpers out a response. “Please.”

The corner of your lips twitches faintly upwards before you’re closing the rest of the distance between your two bodies. The way you hold onto him, and he to you, is nothing short of desperate, kissing one another like you are the very air you both need to breathe.

Carefully, you help him sit on top of the table, allowing for him to fully wrap his legs around your waist. Unashamedly, his hands roam over your body, pulling you in closer as his fingers dance across your skin.

The moan he lets out as you take his bottom lip between your teeth sets your heart fluttering inside of your chest.

“You are incredible, Seonghwa,” you mumble out against the skin of his lips. “And so, unbelievably beautiful.”

He moans, legs tightening around your waist as his stomach twists pleasantly.

“Shouldn’t-“ he gasps as you begin trailing your lips over his jaw, soon moving to bite at the skin of his neck, “Shouldn’t I be telling you this.”

“Some other time,” you promise, placing a lingering kiss over his racing pulse. “Right now, I want to worship you.”

The shudder that wracks his entire body does not go unnoticed by you. The fact that you can physically feel his skin heating beneath your touch says it all.

“My Queen-“

“Shhh,” you’re quick to cut him off with a peck to his lips. “Just let me take care of you.”

You pull away only the slightest bit to stare deeply into his eyes. Silently, you check in with him, brushing against that familiar blue string in your mind to make sure that he’s okay.

“Please,” he swallows. “Don’t stop.”

The tender smile that pulls at your lips says it all.

Instantly, you move back in to continue biting and sucking at his neck, your hands sneaking up his shirt and eliciting another moan from his lips. The desperate way he clings to you has a pleasant feeling building within your core, spreading outwards and warming your entire body.

To know that he wants you, that he needs you in this moment means the world to you. 

You wouldn’t have it any any other way.

Bringing your lips back to his, you swallow all of his sounds, enjoying every small whimper and moan he gives you. The way he gasps as your one hand slides up his thigh to pull him flush against you by his ass is like music to your ears.

“My Seonghwa,” you hum, slowly grinding your hips against his own.

A choked moan of your name slips passed his lips, “Yours.”

“That’s right, My Dove,” you nip lightly at his ear, feeling how he shudders once more in your hold. “You’re mine.”

“All yours,” he whimpers, burying his face into the side of your neck.

Slowly, you bring your one hand between your two bodies, beginning to palm his semi-hard cock over his jeans. The fact that he seems to desperately grind against your hand in time with your movements makes you smirk.

“My Beautiful Dove,” you hum, adding the slightest bit more pressure to your palm as you move over his clothed cock. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?”

Softly, he shakes his head against the skin of your shoulder.

“No?” The corner of your lips tug upwards in a small grin as you pull away to meet his wide eyes. “Then, I guess I’ll have to show you.”

Your lips are back on his in an instant, pulling him flush against you. Carefully, you begin to lean him back, hovering over him as you lay him down on that table. His hands cling desperately to your back, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck every time you move to bite your marks into his skin. Marks which you know he will wear proudly for as long as he can.

“My Divine,” the whimper that escapes him goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clench around nothing.

“My Beautiful Seonghwa,” you rest your forehead gently against his own. “As if you didn’t know that forging me Andúril would be considered the grandest romantic gesture you could ever make for me.”

His chest is heaving, hips desperately seeking your own. Only, you pin him to that table, retracting your hand from over his cock and eliciting the sweetest of whines from his throat.

“As if you wouldn’t have known that I would immediately have to satisfy My King as a reward for always taking such good care of His Queen.” You continue, reaching out slightly to the side to grasp a particular object in your hand. Once you feel that cool metal of the dagger against your palm, you smirk. “Since My King has shown me nothing but a loving patience and dedication to his craft, I shall show him the same.”

Again, you lean over him, pecking his lips tenderly.

“I wish to take my time savouring you right now, Seonghwa,” you tell him gently. “As long as you’ll let me.”

At the vigorous nod of his head, along with the breathless ‘yes’ that falls from his lips, you have your answer.

You smile, eyes crinkling at the sides as your heart warms.

Slowly, carefully, you bring that dagger up his body. Gently, you tug his shirt forward, the tip of the blade kissing the material. Cautiously, you hook the blade beneath the neckline of his shirt, watching him carefully for any signs of discomfort.

You find none.

The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears, the dagger getting tossed beside you on that table as you help him sit up once more. His lips are on yours as you strip Seonghwa of his now cut shirt, the planes of his chest on full display. The way he shivers beneath your touch as your hands roam down his bare chest has you smiling into the kiss.

Without wasting another moment, you part from him only to begin trailing your lips down his chest. You take your time, biting and sucking marks into his skin as your hands grip his waist firmly. The fact that Seonghwa arches into your touch, eyes fluttering as he feels your tongue come out to lave over his burning skin says it all.

Another moan of your name slips passed his lips.

“That’s it, My Dove,” you coo, sliding him the slightest bit forward, and back onto the edge of the table. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Slowly, you begin to sink to your knees, allowing your fingers to trail over his thighs as you do so.

Seonghwa’s head is spinning, and with each breath, his chest heaves. He can hardly believe that this is happening right now, his hands desperately gripping at the side of his work table for dear life. The image alone of you on top of him like that, and now, with you resting on your knees between his legs, is making his cock ache for your touch once more. He needs you, and he’s sure to tell you that.

The smirk that pulls at your lips is nothing short of devious, “Patience, My Dove. I told you that I wish to take my time with you right now.”

A small whimper escapes him.

“You’re not the only one who wants my lips wrapped around you cock right now, Seonghwa.” Your eyes flash dangerously as you look up at him through your lashes. “Be patient, and I will reward you, My King.”

Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat, whole body stilling as your words settle over him. He can feel his cock throbbing, becoming almost painful the longer he goes with you no longer touching him.

The second you begin to undo his belt, his thighs begin to shake.

Soothingly, you rub your hands over his upper thighs, staring up at him with wide eyes. As you meet his gaze, your hands still, finger sinking into the material of his jeans as his lips part with another moan.

“Look at you,” you hum, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ve barely even done anything to you yet, and you’re ready to fall apart.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t come yet from your touches alone,” he admits lowly, voice a little rough as he clears his throat.

Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh?”

“My Divine, the feeling of your hands on me is one of the greatest sensations I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” He breathes, thighs tensing as you begin to undo the zipper of his jeans. “You already know how little self-control I seem to have around you.”

Slowly, you begin to slide the material of his jeans down his thighs as you chuckle once more. A moment later, you help him step out of them, tossing both his jeans and his boxers off to the side.

“That, I do know,” you smile knowingly. “And yet, you’re being such a good boy for me.”

His cock visibly twitches from your words, and you smirk.

“Oh?” Your brow quirks, a devious look shining behind your eyes as you look up at him. “You like it when I call you My Good Boy, don’t you.”

His grip tightens on the edges of the table, and you wonder at how the wood hasn’t cracked beneath the pressure yet.

“Yes,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments. “Fuck- I love it, My Queen.”

The giggle you let out is music to his ears.

You meet his gaze through your lashes once more, “Good boy.”

Again, his cock visibly twitches from your words. You can see how desperately he restrains himself from reaching out to you right now, his hands tense as he grips the table for dear life.

Teasingly, you trail your hands back up his thighs. Only, when you get close to his hips, you stop, dragging them back down and ensuring your nails scratch lightly over his skin.

He shudders.

The whole time you rest before him, Seonghwa keeps his gaze locked on you. Not once does he allow his eyes to fall shut, and he swears to himself that he’ll do whatever he can to engrain this memory in his mind for as long as possible. He’ll be damned if he misses even one second of you pleasing him, for you appear just as eager as he does in this moment.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

Trailing your hands back up his thighs, you give them both another appreciative squeeze. Then, finally, you lean into him, bringing your lips to the skin of his inner thigh as your one hand wraps delicately around his cock.

The moment your fingers close around him, he moans. His lips remain parted, breaths coming in uneven pants as he feels you gently nipping at the skin of his inner thigh. The way your hand begins to move over him has his whole body twitching beneath your touch.

The closer your lips get to his aching cock, the harder it becomes for him to control himself. Desperately, Seonghwa clings onto whatever shreds of his sanity that he has left, taking in the beautiful sight that is you, on your knees, pleasing him right now.

Just when he thinks you’ll free him from your teasing licks and kisses on his one thigh, you move to the other, repeating the same actions over his skin almost lovingly.

At one particularly firm bite against his thigh, his stomach clenches. He can feel himself twitch in your hand, a low groan escaping him as he leans further back on the table for support.

You chuckle, looking up at him innocently from between his spread legs.

“My King?” 

He hums, almost absentmindedly.

“One more thing,” A devious gleam is shining behind your eyes. One which his blissed out state manages to ignore for the moment.

“Anything, My Queen.” He breathes out, breath hitching in his throat as he sees you lick your lips.

“Hands to yourself until I say so.”

As soon as those words escape you, your lips are around him. Gently, you suckle on the tip, tongue flicking over his slit a few times as you maintain eye contact with him.

A choked moan escapes him, his right hand automatically reaching out to you. Only, he catches himself, fingers twitching in midair right by your head. Slowly, reluctantly, he retracts his hand, gripping onto that table desperately for support.

The chuckle you let out reverberates along his cock, sending pleasant shivers up his spine and causing his stomach to clench. The way your tongue feels, beginning to swirl around his head as you take more of him into your mouth is making his head spin. Never before has Seonghwa been this hard in his life, and the fact that it’s all because of you is only adding to the intensity of the pleasure that he’s currently feeling.

Low, guttural groans escape him as he watches you sink further down on his cock. Languidly, your tongue strokes along his shaft, pleasant hums escaping you as you watch his every reaction carefully. The fact that his whole body trembles, fingers digging into the wood of the table has you chuckling lowly once more.

Slowly, you begin bobbing your head. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you use your one hand to stroke over, squeezing at his base a few times as you hollow your cheeks over him.

Seonghwa nearly collapses right then and there. As much as he tries, he cannot prevent the way his eyes flutter closed, tossing his head back as a moan of your name slips passed his lips.

“Just like that, My Divine,” he smiles, blinking his vision open once more to see the glorious sight that is you, on your knees before him, with his cock in your mouth. A low growl escapes him, eyes flashing black. “Fuck- just like that.”

Desperately, he does whatever he can to keep his hips from bucking further into your mouth. The wet heat of your mouth is overwhelming, nothing but pure pleasure coursing through his veins as he feels you suckling at the tip of his cock once more.

Pulling away from him for just a moment, you let your hand pump over his length a few times. Again, you lick your lips, gaze darting up to meet his own as you move in closer.

Another growl escapes him as he watches you suck one of his balls into your mouth. His whole body shudders as you slowly let it pop back out of your mouth only for you to begin placing wet, open mouthed kisses up along the bottom of his shaft. The way your tongue comes out to trace along the path shortly afterwards has him twitching in your hand.

“Oh, fuck-“ His breath catches in his throat, eyes bleeding black once more. “Again. Please, do that again.”

The way your lips are currently pressed against his cock lets Seonghwa feel every inch of the smile that pulls at your features. To his utmost pleasure, you’re almost instantly repeating your actions, taking even more time to caress your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing over a prominent vein.

“My Divine, please-“ he chokes out, every breath escaping him now but a mere whimper on his lips.

You spare a glance upwards and into his eyes as you tighten your hold around the base of his cock.

“I love you, My Seonghwa.”

Your lips are around him as soon as the words finish escaping you, moving over him with a newfound vigour. You barely even begin to lave your tongue over his cock when you feel him twitching within your mouth, the sound of shattering wood greeting your ears.

Whimpers and whines escape him, along with desperate cries of your name as his orgasm washes over him. His body hunches the slightest bit forward, releasing down your throat as you help to ride him through his high.

Every last drop he offers you, you swallow, humming contently around him as you lick him clean.

Your name falls like a mantra from his lips, whole body shaking as he leans against the table for support. Two chunks seem to have been torn from the wood where his hands had been gripping the table so firmly, the shattered remains littering the ground around you.

Slowly, you release him from your mouth, hearing as another guttural groan escapes him as you do so. When you spare a glance up, you notice his chest heaving, his lips parted as he stares down at you with nothing but love and pure, unfiltered awe in his gaze.

Tenderly, your hands come up to stroke over his thighs. “Good?”

“Good?” He smiles, voice deep and rough. A soft chuckle falls from his lips as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m great. Never been better, in fact.”

You giggle, standing carefully back to your feet with a little help from him. His one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, kissing you deeply as he flips your positions so that he can push you back against his worktable now.

“Seonghwa,” you giggle against his lips. “What are you doing?”

“Returning the favour,” he growls lowly, pressing you a bit firmer into the wood behind you.

Softly, your fingers begin to thread through the hair at the back of his neck. “Some other time, yeah?”

A whine of protest escapes him, pulling away from you to look into your eyes with round, pleading ones of his own.

“Later. I promise.” You bring your hands around to cup his face tenderly in your palms. “For now, let’s go get something to eat.”

The playful quirk of his brow informs you of what it is, exactly, that he intends to eat.

“Next time.” You say, a little more firmly.

He pouts, but listens nonetheless as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Come on, Mars.” You smile lovingly at him, grabbing his hand in yours after he’s finished putting on his belt. 

You lick your lips, taking the time to admire him for the nth time this day as he stands before you.

“My Divine, if you keep staring at me like that…” He lets his words trail off, but the darkness you see swirling behind his eyes says it all.

“What?” You chuckle, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “I said I was hungry.”

[lottiecrabie]

I also cannot explain how much I need this including everything you said in the tags hahaha consider this my blurb request!!!!! (ps linecook 2 was insane and so unexpected like what a gift u are ily xx)

Would you rather me camp with a tutor au sign or a linecook v word roleplay sign 🪻

on a weird smut streak dhmu

it starts off as a joke, or at least that’s what you assume. you’re recounting your first time story like a stand-up, treating the awkward fumblings and condom slippings and bloody sheets and the pain as punchlines to your story. matty doesn’t laugh much, but you entertain yourself, tipsy on amaretto sours and the warmth of his hand on your thigh. you get to the dead-fish look just above your eyes before the tell-tale groan and rollover when matty can’t take it anymore.

and it goes like it usually does, dirty speeches about how it wouldn’t have gone like that if your first time had been with him. and, sure, it’s a truth and a fact and a promise, but it doesn’t stop you from mocking him a little for the grandiose sermons.

then he says it. ‘i can show you.’

‘what,’ you say, laughing. ‘you’re gonna stitch me back up and take my virginity again?’

matty doesn’t even crack a smile. he’s taking the subject much more seriously than you would think, especially considering how silly it all is. ‘we can pretend. make it what it should have been.’

you’re taken aback. your fingertip rolls around the rim of the glass, chewing on your lip. ‘you’re seriously suggesting a virginity roleplay?’ matty shrugs. your heart races in your chest, but you aim for another joke. ‘are you never scared of being such a cliche?’

matty grins. ‘no. never.’

so he takes you home, though pushes your hands away when you try to unbutton his pants, blinking up at him in your best virginal doe eyes. he kneels before you instead, claims it’s all about getting used to the feeling. it’s where he stays the whole night, drawing screams and tears out of you until you’re dripping and drooling on the mattress, then kisses your forehead and wishes you a goodnight.

he teases you more and more, never giving you what you want, what you need. you know the trick; get her desperate and cockdrunk before you slide in, and it seems matty reserves a particularly delicious torture for ‘first times’. he croons sweet promises in your ear, fingering you and praising the way your cunt stretches for him, gets used to him, how he can’t wait to be inside of you, how well you’ll take him soon. by the end of it, you’re so pent-up about the idea, you almost forget it’s not actually your first time.

you’re making out on his bed when you grasp his hand, tightening it and blinking up at him. ‘matty. i’m ready.’

he plays it casually, smiling at you, but you sense his heartbeat quicken under your palm. ‘yeah? want me inside of you?’

you pout, moaning, ‘fucking need it.’

he hums. ‘oh, baby. alright. take your shirt off for me.’

you’re undressed in a matter of seconds, kicking off your shorts before he even asks. you wear white lingerie; much better than the nude cotton underwear you had on your first time. it seems you, too, want to rewrite history.

matty grins at you, danger in the spike of his teeth. ‘like a little lamb.’ you shiver as his mouth dances down your body, kissing your skin, and buries between your thighs.

he gets you off like that for a while, of course, because it’s matty. stays until you’re pushing his head away, the bed spinning around you. matty wipes his mouth as he crawls back up, already tugging off his shirt.

it’s when you’re both naked and panting in each other’s mouths that it starts feeling too real. your heart races, apprehension and anxiety and nerves spinning in that hurricane head. you feel exactly like you did the first time, unsure and overwhelmed and excited.

you opt for another joke to crack the tension. fluttering your eyelashes at him, you say, ‘i don’t know if it’s gonna fit.’

‘we’ll go slow.’

you wrap your hand around his hard cock, stroking gently. ‘i’ve never done this before.’ your thumb swipes his tip. ‘it’s so big.’

matty halts your hand with his own, prying it away and crossing both your fingers together beside your head. ‘i won’t hurt you,’ he says, gentle. your throat closes up. he doesn’t want to joke.

you dig your nails into his shoulder as his tip teases your entrance. you hold your breath, nervous, as though readying for a pain that you know won’t come. you blink up at the ceiling.

‘look at me,’ matty whispers. you lock eyes with him, with the reassuring gaze. velvety, sugary. his hand grasps yours firmer. he slides in.

and, no, of course it doesn’t hurt. but you gasp anyway, like an inherent mental reaction. he goes slowly, inch by inch. you moan, throbbing around his length.

he lays there, kissing your face, immobile. you take several breaths, adjusting to him, to the emotion building in your throat. ‘you ready, sweet girl?’

‘yeah,’ you whisper. ‘you can move.’

he slides out and it’s meteoric, rippling pleasure through your sweaty body. you moan his name, digging your hands in every inch of his skin you can find.

‘you’re fucking perfect,’ he moans in your ear. ‘taking me so well. fuckin’ squeezing me.’ as if on cue, you clench around him, a wave of pleasure swallowing you as he hits deep and true.

‘do you feel good, princess?’ you nod, too hazy to form words. his hand sneaks between your bodies, rubbing at your clit. you gasp his name. ‘better?’

‘yes.’

‘i’m gonna make you feel good. you’ll see.’ he kisses your shoulder, licking up your collarbone. ‘this is sex.’

you throb around him, closing your eyes and seeing stars. ‘fuck,’ you cry. ‘matty, i need more.’

he coos at you, kissing your neck. ‘it’s okay, baby. trust me.’ he speeds his thumb, but doesn’t slam into you like you’re silently begging for. ‘don’t want to hurt you. we need to go slow.’

‘i won’t break.’

‘i know better.’ you huff, rolling your head back, letting yourself be washed by the ecstasy he does masterfully pull out of you.

it’s a slow, gentle fuck like you never do. you bury your hand into his hair and tug him to your face, kissing him until you’re out of air. until you’re drowning in him.

matty only breaks the kiss to whisper-pant, ‘they wish they could have you.’ he licks into your mouth, starved. ‘they all fucking think about you. but they won’t get it.’ he kisses your chin, your jaw, your cheek. ‘won’t have you. only me.’

you nod. ‘only ever you.’ his thumb speeds at your bundle of nerves. deep strokes hit you, burying and burying.

‘i’m the only one who’s ever gonna know you like this. i’m the only one who’s ever gonna fuck you.’

‘yes!’ you scream, delirious. pleasure pulls at you, pressing and insistent. you tremble under him, tighten your hand around his in warning.

‘don’t need others when i treat you this well.’

and you don’t like the weird emotion building in your chest, your throat, your head. instead, you plead, ‘make me come.’

‘oh, don’t you fucking worry.’

he rubs and fucks and kisses until you’re melting into his arm, the loose letters of his name falling down your chin. he gets you there, right there, and then makes you look him in the eyes as you fall apart for him.

the sight gets him crazed. he fucks you harder, ready and greedy. ‘fucking love this cunt.’ he kisses you. ‘love it. love you. fuck—‘ he comes with a shake and spills into you.

you lay there, heart racing, mouths panting. you gently stroke his hair. there’s a strange peace in the room. time suspends, still unreal, still pretending.

it’s the best first time you’ve ever had.

[carmenberzattosgf]

i'm so sorry to psychoanalyze and brain dump in ur inbox but i've been thinking about how carmy maybe falls into bdsm bc he's always been so out of control in his life being the youngest sibling and working in stressful kitchens and always being an underling. and like he craves boundaries and rules and control bc he lacks that in all other places of his life so his only way to relax is through consensual dominance with a partner and i don't have an end to this just wanted to share. also congrats on 100 followers!!!!

omg pls don’t apologize for brain dumping in my ask box-

I SOOOO agree with this. Like oh my god he would love the rules of it all. To have someone, you, truly listen to him? To his every instruction?

I think you would be the one to bring it up to him. He’s SO hesitant at first. Just the whole idea of it makes him nervous. But once you both have the first scene- he flips a switch.

The fact that you’ll let him use you however he wants just makes him go crazy. It seriously brings out the dominant in him. It also gives him so much confidence because Carmy knows only he can make you feel this way.

I also think that he would love experimenting on pleasure with pain. Being able to “let out” his anger on you through spanking is something he cannot get enough of. But! What he truly likes about it is that you get off on it too. The way you get so wet from his hands spanking you? Oh my god he’s a goner. He would tease you for it, too. “Look how wet you’re getting. All this just from some spankings? I haven’t even put my cock in you yet and you’re soaked.”

He also likes the trust aspect in BDSM. You trust him and he trusts you. Please don’t get me started on stuff like subspace- he fucking LOVES getting you to a place like that just because he knows how much trust it takes for that to even happen.

I think what he loves most about BDSM though is the aftercare! He is such a fucking sweetheart. He’ll draw you a warm bath, get you water, bring you a meal he cooks himself. If you can’t walk he’ll carry you. Oh and he’ll just adore your face with kisses, telling you how much he loves you and thanking you for trusting him so deeply

Anon I can assure you more stuff involving dom carmy is on the horizon for my blog. There’s literally already a spanking and overstim post in my drafts. It’s one of my favorite things to write about because the dynamic is just so- AHH. And like I’ve said I think Carmy would be such a good dom

[chrollohearttags]

containment • e. jaeger

synopsis: you’re the newest female guard at an all male prison. No one said it’d be easy but you were prepared for anything..except the new inmate on your cell block.

themes: forbidden romance/relationship, prisoner eren, modern au, correctional officer reader (black and fem coded) power play, lots of fantasizing and masturbation, consensual sex, he’s also a heavy switch and minors do not and i cannot stress this e-fucking-nough..interact!

cw:3.5K

📝: I’m up at 3am, letting my insane thoughts win again so please don’t hold this against me if it’s too long or just wild in general but this is just some notes/imagines to what will be a full, multi-part fic eventually, just wanted to mainly focus on the spicy stuff for now.

you were one of the only three female guards to ever work at the state’s all male maximum security prison. A facility notorious for housing some of the county’s most terrifying criminals..naturally, it was said to be no place for a woman and you were subjected to harassment, heckling and sometimes violence but you didn’t allow it to stop your goals. As physically strong as you were stubborn, you didn’t fear them in the slightest.

it was only six months after your assignment to the close containment unit that he was put onto your floor and things began to shift..an inmate by the name of eren jaeger; he was most certainly different from the other convicts you made contact with on a daily basis…

never gives you a hard time, always complied and is always in his cell either drawing or reading. If they didn’t give him time off for good behavior, you didn’t know who would get it. Also was super intelligent.

sort of intimidated the other guards and prisoners because of his eerie silence. They didn’t know why he’d been on a floor like this but act so well behaved. no one ever got on his bad side though..they knew better because he’d remind them why he was locked up in the first place.

has a slick ass mouth and every time you asked what he was there for, his response was “whatever they say I did.”

you didn’t make it your mission to be chummy with the prisoners, but he made the job a bit more tolerable. “good morning, officer (l/n)..” it was how he always greeted you..in addition to a little faint smile and telling you how pretty you were that day, whether barefaced or with some light makeup on and oddly enough, he always knew the scent of your perfume. “I can compliment my favorite guard, can’t I? Is that allowed?” the sarcasm and sweet gestures were something you had grown accustomed to. “You’re as cute as you are dangerous, Jaeger. Too bad for you, they don’t reduce sentences for adorable one liners.” although those words should have meant nothing come from a criminal…

it’s one day, however..when you were seeing him off to library cleanup duty that it went from harmless flirtation to a heated, forbidden love affair. “Not to be gross or anything but I gotta go take a piss, officer. I’ve been holding it since we left the cell.” he had been working diligently without a break for two hours so you’d allow it.

never had to worry about him trying anything as he had seen you take down men twice his size by yourself and even had subdued him once after a fight was incited by somebody else but he didn’t back down. (an ass whooping from you he’d soon never forget).

during that little bathroom break, you accidentally caught a glimpse of what he was working with…down south! You’d try to look away but really couldn’t help yourself. The man was hung like a horse. As a guard, you were to remain professional so the thoughts had to subside.

it was all but inevitable when you’d take him to the rec yard for exercise and you’d watch him do curl ups on the metal bars. His entire muscular back and arms riddled in tattoos; some professional pieces and others by the tip of an ink pen etched in prison. It’d be a huge violation if you’d ever acted on them and to you, that’s what made the fantasy all the more hotter.

on the trip back to finish up his last bit of library work, he utters something to you that made you freeze… “I know you were watching me earlier, officer..in the bathroom. I could feel those pretty little eyes of yours staring. Such a pervert.” Muttering sarcastically because his nasty ass loved the thought! To which you’d call his bluff and ask him so what if you were and he’d double down on it. “Then next time I’ll let you come help.” He always had a witty, smart mouthed comeback for everything.

it was getting harder to deny the sexual tension that was brewing though and as it were only the two of you left, the banter would become more and more risqué. Completely inappropriate and wrong but it felt so right..

“Can I get a good night kiss?” asks it every night when you take him back to his cell, to which you’d only ignore and instead, shove a stick of gum between his lips as a reward for his hard work..it was as close it were going to get for now.

it was when you got home that those disgusting desires could run rampant. In the solitude of your shower or bedroom, you were free to fantasize about this man and all of the things you wanted him to do you. Touching yourself, wishing it were him…a filthy criminal. From pinning your legs back and pumping you full of dick. Slapping, choking and tugging on your hair. Riding his pretty little face as you came all over his tongue. unbeknownst, he felt the same.

truthfully, it couldn’t be helped..watching the plump curvature of your ass sway in those black uniform cargos and your big supple tits tightly stuffed into that grey polo with the prison’s insignia on the left breast pocket every day drove him crazy. Those plump, juicy lips always covered in gloss that he wouldn’t mind shoving his cock between. Holding your head still while he throat fucks you into oblivion. And he just knew that pussy was fat with a mean grip. Many of nights had he lied in this cell, quietly stroking himself to the thought of his favorite guard bouncing on his dick, riding him before he’d take over and fuck up into you..smacking that round ass as he covers it in baby oil.

hearing you cry out his name..telling him how big it is as he forces all nine of those thick inches in you until it fits..just a few of the dozens of scenarios he’d play in his dirty, perverted mind. It had been years since he’d felt the touch of a woman so it was hard to restrain himself. He’d end up biting his sheets a way to gag his moans as his enclosed fist pumped until he’d splatter a giant nut all over his knuckles. Luckily he was alone in here.

when you returned to work a couple days later, that steamy tension had reached its boiling point and during day duty, you couldn’t take anymore. You needed him now! Favor was in your corner because he happened to be caught with cigarettes he smuggled from another inmate, which would have been a big infraction.

but instead, you snuck him off to a nearby closet where he’d become your personal fuck toy for the afternoon in exchange for your silence. It was his own damn fault..violating the rules and looking so damn good all the time. And he didn’t hesitate!

“You can keep a secret, can’t you, officer? I promise I won’t tell if you won’t.” taunting as he forced you back on his thick cock with his shackled hands. He’s made you squirt more times than any man ever has and it had been so long since he’d been in some pussy and especially one this tight so you had to keep him quiet because he was losing his shit. Didn’t hold it against him when he came too quick and..inside of you because you had been waiting a long time for it.

now, it’s become a regular occurrence. You can’t leave him alone and vice versa. Makes sure that no one else give you a hard time ever again and would handle it personally if they did. Guards included..in return you make sure he gets a little more on his commissary or drops him in a few cigarettes or snacks when it’s permitted. Even letting him get extra time outside, just so you could have him to yourself.

Can’t exactly communicate via cell phones so he writes you love letters that he hides in areas around the prisons for you to read when you get home. Full of filthy detail of how he’d be fucking you if he were a free man, how much he adores you and of course, all the trouble the two of you will get into the next time his beloved CO comes into work.

[edandstede]

racist fucks out here acting like ed is doomed to become abusive like his father, like he is a violent monster, as if his arc isn’t about learning that he isn’t a monster at all but just a man. how are you looking at ed accepting himself, overcoming feeling like he’s the literal kraken, that he’s loveable and worthy of compassion and kindness even when he thinks the worst of himself, and drawing the conclusion that he’s an irredeemable thug - which is, by the way, what every fucking villain and antagonist thinks of him. you’re aligning your view of him with the bad guys, y’know, the ones who call him a donkey, low-born, and try goading him into violence over and over again because they think that’s all he’s worth? and yeah that includes izzy, because he did that too, it’s 90% of what he fucking did, treating him like he only deserved to live if he was performing hyper masculinity the entire time and the second he stopped he was worse than dead.

we are supposed to feel sorry for ed. the way he feels is heartbreaking. he was abandoned, had his worst fears confirmed to him by stede leaving and izzy pressing on the wound in the worst possible way, and then he fell completely into depression and suicidal ideation. he thinks it’s all he’s good for. he can’t be loved, he hates himself, he’s just the dick who killed his dad and nobody wants him for him. how can you see this very obvious spelled-out agony in him and say “hey, that guy is gonna abuse the man he loves, he’s an abuser just like his dad” you guys are just absolute bottom of the barrel scumbag dickheads, you really really are. you could not be more blatantly racist. you know damn well the show is not saying what you’re claiming it is.

also, insisting that he would ever hurt stede is just completely ignoring every single fucking thing about him. ed would never. the only fucking time stede is physically hurt by ed is when he wakes up from literal death and headbutts him. that’s it. i think we can all agree he didn’t even know what planet he was on when that occurred, and he petulantly says “good it was supposed to hurt” during a squabble that ends with stede telling ed he loves everything about him. pull the other one if you think this was ever framed as ed seriously wanting to hurt stede and not an incredibly hurt and vulnerable man still acting on a half-dead brain.

like for fuck’s sake this is the same man who hides under stede’s robe and presses his head to stede’s hand when he cries after telling him - the only person he has EVER TOLD - about killing his dad. he tells stede about the plot to kill him, and he cannot do it. he can’t lift a finger to him, he never would. he holds stede’s face with both hands when he kisses him and tells him he loves him. he brings him breakfast with a bit of twine on ‘cause he panicked and thought it needed a flourish. he rubs stede’s cashmere against his cheek. the first thing he says makes his life worth living is warmth. he imagines stede with a big goofy sweet grin and gold sparkly goldfish tail coming to save his life. he just wants to retire and have his inn with the man he loves and not worry about stede ever being in a near-death situation again. he wants stede to be safe with him. at no point are we remotely told in the text that we should be genuinely worried ed will ever, ever physically hurt stede. he protects this man with his WHOLE BODY twice and signs an act of grace to avoid him being shot. he tries to get ned to leave him alone when they’re being tortured. he jumps off the boat with jack to swim back to him and he rows back to the republic to find stede too.

he loves stede, would never hurt him, and you’re all just fucking sour your fav died and you’re saying any old shite as a result. swear to god if i catch one more of you even so much as insinuating ed is abusive i’m gonna start lobbing off toes as well.

[oinkoink321]

Miles, Gwen, Hobie, Pav, and  Miguel with a cheerleader!Reader. 

—————-

Guys, I cannot stress enough how amazing cheerleading is. Like say what you want whether it’s a sport or not but have you seen those routines?!?!? Literally inhumane!!!! And as a cheerleader I want (need) to see more fics about this 😭

This is an “x reader” Reader is a Flyer/top girl (the person that gets thrown/put up in the air in stunts). Reader will  not be a spider person in this fic (sorry guys). Reader is implied to be on the quieter side or not “look” like a cheerleader(on Hobie’s part). Anyways, if there’s anything I can improve or change please let me know! enjoy! 

Warnings: none but the characters might be ooc

————————

Miles Morales 

He literally sits through your routine in shock. He’s so caught off guard. Cheerleaders do things like this?!?!

Idk if he had cheerleaders in his school or not but idk if he would really pay attention to them at all. However, when he found out  you’re a cheerleader, he’s like “oh ok”.

Then one day you invite him to watch you perform, he gladly goes to support you but he’s not really sure what to expect. Then when he sees you doing all that tumbling or having enough courage to be tossed in the air like that, he’s in awe. 

He could barely even jump off a small building with spider powers and yet here you are, staying tight and sharp enough to hit all your motions and yell loud. 

He’s just so…..mind blown. His eyes are all on you, his mouth open at all the tumbling and shining you do. Gosh, he’s so taken aback. 

After the routine he’s walking up to you, a bit shy. He’s like “You did amazing! I can’t believe cheerleaders actually do all that! You were awesome flying in the air like that and blah blah blah”. He’d definitely be drawing you in your cheer uniform and doing your skills. He’s the sweetest <333

————————

Gwen Stacy 

Since she used to do ballet, I think she might know a bit about cheer. Anyways, when she’s watching you perform, she’s in a daze. 

Since you’re not a spider person, she’s quite impressed with all the skills you can pull off. Especially the tumbling, you need incredible strength in order to tumble as fluidly as you do 

Her eyes are literally sparkling watching you. Her eyes are glued to you, your teammates and your performance. She has a soft smile on her face the entire time. She enjoys watching you so much! 

I bet she silently prays that you don’t fall or injure yourself when you’re flying or when you tumble. She knows how dangerous those can be so she can’t help but feel a bit nervous everytime she sees you do those skills 

Nevertheless, she loves watching them either way! She lets out a little sigh of relief when you’re done doing the performance and you’re completely fine.

She walks up to you and gives you a big hug. She whispers in your ear “You did so good”. She’s sooo proud of you after the performance. Also, I think she would stretch with you or work out with you when you exercise for cheer. Anyways I love her so much<3333 

————————

Hobie Brown 

I feel like he’s pretty chill about you being a cheerleader, but he is a bit surprised. You? A cheerleader? The thought would never cross his mind. 

But when he sees you doing flips and being tossed? He’s on the edge of his seat. Then, he hears you yell out the words of your cheer. Your voice is powerful and your team hypes up the audience. 

He feels proud of you, who’s usually shy and quiet, being confident and getting a crowd to yell your school colors and name. 

He’s mesmerized by your boldness on the mat. If you’re speaking quietly he’d probably tell you to “use your cheer voice.” 

Anyways, he also looovvvesss seeing your dance and thinks you’re incredible. You’re so swift and sharp with your movements. He likes how each motion hits on the exact beat. 

After the performance, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, complimenting you. He’d be cool and level-headed around people but when you guys are alone, he’s all over you. He’d say how cute you look on your cheer uniform and say how amazing you were 

Also, he’s like your biggest supporter. You need help for fundraisers? He’s going to raves selling the items to people. You need help with skills for stunts? He’s willing to learn how to base so he can one-man you. Anyways he’s the best and I love him as well. (Let’s be fr I’m in love with all of them lol) 

————————

Pavitr Prabhakar

OMGGG WHAT A CUTIE HE IS!!!! He’s going to every single game and performance he can just to watch you! He’s cheer you on and hyping you up! 

He’s so sweet and would yell the words with you and your team. He definitely know all the words and I can imagine him learning the dance with you. He’d also get you to teach him the cheers so he can fully support you <3 

He’s also so entranced when you’re going up in the air being thrown, or just being up there in general. He loved watching you fly, it’s like you’re floating. AND when you’re tumbling he’s literally screaming your name. 

In cheer routines, when they do their jumps, people/the team would scream “hit! Hit!” every single jump. You know for sure he’ll be yelling at you to hit you jumps on beat. 

When you guys have your “ending picture” he’s basically out of his seat. He’s pointing you out to everyone, going “Look! Look at them! I’m their boyfriend!” 

After the performance, he hugs you and spins you around, telling you how proud he is. He’s such a sweet heart and he rambles to you about all the awesome skills you did and begs you to teach them to him. Truth be told, he’s YOUR cheerleader. 

————————

Miguel O’Hara 

Honestly…..he probably doesn’t care at first. I mean he does, he just kinda looks over it (in the beginning). But when you invite him to a performance, he’s like “okay, I have nothing better to do anyway” 

But when he sees you on that mat, yelling your team name, spelling it out, doing flips and being thrown, his eyes literally light up. He’s fascinated. He feels a bit guilty that he brushed it off to you at first. 

After that, he wants to go to more of your games and performances. He tells you he can record performances for you. He watches them over and over. He always pays attention to you in the video. 

He’d try to help you “point out” your mistakes, of course he doesn’t know much about cheer but he’s willing to learn. He’ll  watch videos about it and send you stretches to do if you were telling him about needing help with a skill. 

Going off of that, if you ever get injured he’ll help with treatment. Of course, you actually should go to a doctor but he will buy athletic tape and ice packs for you. He’d reluctantly massage your sore muscles lol (he loves doing that tho) 

Anyways, after competitions or performances, he’ll treat you to a restaurant or fast food. Or if you’re coming home late from practice he’ll make/order your favorite food. He’s always making sure you’re okay and not overworking yourself (same goes to everyone else) 

[jmdbjk]

The Drama. It's Jimin.

We don't know yet how Jimin will tie together that sheet of music La Lettra (The Letter), containing the music of The Truth Untold and the Legend of the Smeraldo flower in this album but he's named the album MUSE.

The Truth Untold lyrics

You know that I can’t Show you ME Give you ME I can’t show you my miserable self, so, yet again, I wear a mask and go to meet you But I still want you

A flower that looks like you bloomed in the garden of loneliness I wanted to give it to you after taking off this silly mask But I know that I can’t never ever do so

And the story it is based on, The legend of 'Smeraldo' about a flower created just for the girl the man couldn't reveal himself to.

Here is an excerpt from this link:

The man wanted to help the girl. He wanted to teach her every method of growing flowers he knew, he wanted to teach her how to grow beautiful flowers. But he couldn’t come forward to the girl. She would be scared of him, she wouldn’t love his grotesque appearance. In the end, the only thing he could do was to grow and take care of the flowers so she could keep coming to his garden.

The vibe of The Truth Untold is yearning, desperation, unfulfilled and unrequited love due to one's own inner turmoil holding them back.

The gist of the Legend of the Smeraldo is that you cannot remain withdrawn if you are to achieve the thing you desire most. If you wait too long it will be too late. You must overcome the negative perceptions of yourself in order to reach for the thing you desire.

"Muse" can mean what Jimin is to others and what Army is to Jimin, but Jimin's muse is most likely an element of his inner persona that he keeps to himself, that he draws on for his creativity.

It could also be the stage, the desire to visually express his creativity. I have heard music artists claim their muse or mistress is the stage, they cannot stay away from it, their passion, their obsession, their life's blood and breath to the point everything else is secondary.

The definition for the word muse is:

a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist.

Muse is also related to Greek mythology. From wikipedia:

The Muses are the inspirational goddesses of literature, science, and the arts. They were considered the source of the knowledge embodied in the poetry, lyric songs, and myths that were related orally for centuries in ancient Greek culture.

Where have we seen this inspiration before in Jimin's creativity? I wrote about his Artemis/Apollo concept for his photo folio here.

I know too often Jimin is reduced down to his visuals and his singing...he is a walking melody-maker after all. But he's much deeper than that. He is well-read, he excels at math and science, he understands the human condition better than anyone else around him.

Perhaps in this project, he will explore something that expresses these concepts more deeply.

Motifs he's using in the album's concepts:

Blooming: ME

Serenade: US

A field of flowers, not just any flower, a simple small white flower. Thousands of them. Do the flowers represent us?

I wonder what the blurred out center image of the album covers will reveal.

In his Sept. 1 live last year, among the things he spoke about (besides his Jungkookie's birthday) Jimin told us he was doing things differently, like starting from scratch.

During this live, commenters kept asking about his beat up knuckles and he said just wait and we will find out. He also showed us his workout room in his house.

He also showed us his solar system mood light casting images across the ceiling of his bedroom. He says he falls asleep with it on.

Yet he's an expert at talking to us for a great length of time without really telling us anything. Masterful in fact. He rarely reveals anything personal. We were astonished when he walked through his own home and showed us various rooms in it.

But he wasn't always like this. Whatever circumstances, whether it be outside forces or his own inner growth and maturity, he's changed over the years. He's an expert at hiding parts of himself and his life from us.

How difficult is it for any of us to be our REAL selves in front of anyone? How many of us hide the fact we are Army from our friends, family and co-workers? How many of us behave a certain way in certain situations in order to hide what we perceive are our weaknesses? How many of us are reluctant to speak out, even about frivolous things or dress a certain way or avoid wearing certain colors because what people might think or perceive about us?

Now imagine that you make your living by putting yourself on stage and in front of cameras for millions of prying eyes.

I do think Jimin loves the drama of it all, the mystique. I believe Jimin loves sensuality and provocation. And I think he loves creating visual expressions of all of it.

Many of us share the same inner muse but few of us possess the tools like Jimin does to express these inner musings outwardly. But if we did too, could we? Do we have the fortitude to put ourselves out there? Sure, it's easy to say "if I had a body like Jimin's I would walk around naked all the time." Would you really? Would you really invite the eyes to look and pry and critique? Would you welcome the amount of judgement that would take place? Because it never stops at just one thing. Offering yourself up invites judgement about everything, even things you don't have any control over, from the shape of your fingers to the tone of your voice.

Over the years, Jimin has shown how self-critical he is, constantly wanting to improve himself, always seeming determined to take it to the next level. Determined to show us another side of himself. Brave enough to keep revealing what he draws from his own muse.

MusE... blooming... ME

mUSe... serenade... US

Jimin's blooming and in this record, he will serenade us with his love. He really didn't want to leave us. Perhaps he felt he was just hitting his stride. I felt it.