#he's so soft spoken about it too. i can't hate that. go on i think we should let him do more murders

[rad-roche]

i'm replaying far harbor (my opinion of it hasn't changed it's still leagues better than messing around in boston) and i'm making a point not to be so precious passing charisma checks to advance. i'm reloading saves to poke around alternative quest outcomes, that sort of thing, and it just makes me like DiMA even more. if you skip snooping on the terminal or listening in on the gang's fifth argument that day you confront him over his extremely suspicious behaviour he just shrugs if you fail the charisma check. gloria is like what's this i'm hearing about everybody on the island dying in nuclear hellfire and he looks at her like

i don't know, what ARE you hearing about everybody dying in nuclear hellfire.

[s1m0nth3swag]

Francis Mosses Headcannons <3

AUTHORS NOTE; Your honor I love him. Just some silly Headcannons because the brainrot is too real (also my last post about him did really well and I was shocked about it oops)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; SFW and NSFW Headcannons, no shipping headcannons, some relationship headcannons but mostly just general things about Francis (NSFW is really big on relationship headcannons tho), MY headcannons for him, not particularly fitting into the time of That's not my neighbor but I couldn't be bothered

SFW;

Ever since starting his job as Milkman, he has started to somewhat dislike milk. Rarely ever has any at home unless he needs it to cook or bake something.

REALLY good at cooking/ baking, he lives alone so obviously he has to take care of it himself and he dislikes ordering food since he'll have to talk to someone so he just taught himself to cook/ bake.

I feel like he has some hobbies but rarely ever has the time to work on them, I feel like he's into miniature or something like that. Definitely likes hobbies that include being calm and concentrated over others.

Almost never lets anyone into his home, only if it's his partner or a very close friend (or family).

Contrary to popular belief, Francis has quite a few friends - mostly because they share his hobbies (I feel like he's the type to yap about his hobbies if someone is interested in them).

He doesn't particularly like his job, but also doesn't hate it. I think he liked it at the beginning, but now it's just tiring and boring (like honestly, being a milkman doesn't sound really thrilling, can't blame him for being tired of it).

Francis most definetly has at some point bought a plushie with the thought of gifting it to someone but ended up liking it so much that he kept it (when having someone over he definitely hides it in a corner of his bedroom to not get embarrassed).

He's the type to rarely listen to music, because when he comes home from work he's too tired and probably just passes out on his bed and on his free days he likes to just do his things in silence since it's more calming to him than listening to music while doing them.

When he does listen to music, he prefers calmer tones, maybe even music without any lyrics (or soft spoken ones).

He definetly falls asleep on the couch while watching TV. The type to pass out the second he put on some random show. Try waking him up, you won't be able to. Give him his two hour power nap.

NSFW;

BIIIIG Whiner and whimperer. Even when jerking off or the likes, he's super vocal about it. I think he's not the type to jerk off often, when he does it's because he has too much pressure built up. He's 100% loud about it though. Full on groaning and moaning if his partner were to jerk or suck him off.

He's big on praising. Always tells you you're doing good and that you're so wonderful etc.

I think he doesn't have a particularly high sex drive, but when he does get frisky (by himself or with his partner) I think he can go for multiple rounds with little to no rest. He makes up for the lack of sex drive with the amount of rounds he can go 100%.

Isn't really shy in bed unless it's a more dom/sub relationship with him being sub. I think if you told him he came too fast or that he wasn't being good for you he'd be so so embarrassed and apologise for HOURS unless you shut him up.

Loves marking. Give him hickeys, bitemarks, anything, he'll love it. Especially if you get that little spot on his neck that is just barely hid by his work uniform.

All for now because I need to keep some for the next posts :)

[astraaa3]

How about some headcanons of Velvette x Female or Genderneutral reader who hates confrontation? Is the type that can't send back food when it's wrong. Someone cut in front of them? What are they gonna do? Tell them not to? Yeah, no. God forbid they're being outright spoken down to. Maybe they yell back at someone in an act of defiance as a form of growth but they're in shock immediately after which is so not the right thing to do with the person still in front of them. Velvette would probably dress reader up however she wants to. What happens if reader tries out saying they want to where something they think is pretty or nice? Okay, this got overly lengthy, but you get the idea?

A/N: This one was such a fun writing experience. I literally couldn't decide which way I wanted it to go. Thank you so much for the ask Anon, hope you enjoy it. <33

Feedback is much appreciated and don't forget to ask. (I need something to get the brain juices flowing)

Velvette x Gn!Reader

In which Reader can't bring themselves to say no to people or to stand up for themselves. (aka the Velvette x Pushover!Reader I never knew I needed)

=========📱=========

Initially, Velvette wrote off your compliance with all of her requests as you wanting to please her. And well, she couldn't complain, she liked pushing people around, and her partner was no exception. That said, her sharp tongue was reserved for her poor models. (you got a free pass most of the time since she didn't want to make you cry)

With time, Velvette realized that this was just how you were. She laughed the first time Vox showed her the footage of you helping an assistant carry boxes, only to end up helping with organizing files for one of Vox's assistants. She laughed even harder when she saw you try to get a word in as some wolf sinner cut in front of you in line. And well, it was kinda funny. Until the same shit happened again and again.

Velvette tried talking some sense into you. "Babe, listen. You can't just let any dimwit trample over you." She sighed as you promised to try to stick up for yourself.

Nothing changed after Velvette's 'pep talk'.

Realizing that you were too much of a soft-hearted pathetic idiot to stick up for yourself, Velvette took it upon herself to keep others from pushing you around.

Someone pushed in front of you in the line? Velvette was there telling that cunt exactly why they didn't deserve to even look in your direction.

You were delivered the wrong food order? Velvette would call the restaurant to make sure they knew how utterly useless they were for not even being able to pack a food order.

After laying it on thick whoever wronged you, she would look at you smirking. In turn, you would smile at her happily before kissing her. It turned into a game after some time.

The one time Velvette saw you raise your voice wasn't even to defend yourself. It was to defend her. The moment you calmed down enough to realize what you just said, you were immediately mortified. Burying your face into your hands, you flushed red from embarrassment as Velvette looked at you with wide eyes. Fuck. It was hot seeing you angry…

=========📱=========

Small prompt time~

You and Velvette were walking towards the Coffee Shop right across the street from the V tower. The two of you were holding hands while Velvette was ranting all about how Valentino absolutely destroyed one of her models just before a show when the domestic vibe was ruined by some drunk assholes who came up to them.

"Hey babe, aren't you that cute little overlord with the social media shit? I'll give you something to make a story on Voxstragram with."

As the sinner said this, he made some explicit gestures with his hips. Gagging in disgust Velvette grabbed your hand to walk away from them, not wanting to ruin the cozy coffee date you had planed. However, as you were walking away, all you could hear was the those sinners mocking laughs. You were so angry. You didn't exactly know what made you snap at them. Was it the crass comments regarding your lover? Was it the fact that Velvette refrained from killing them for your sake? Maybe it was both. But before you knew it, you turned around glaring at them before proceeding to curse them into the next afterlife. Velvette looked at you shocked, not expecting you to snap at those no-names. As you calmed down, you looked at Velvette's shocked expression, before burrying your face in your face mumbling something along the lines of: "Let's not talk about this ever again." Velvette pulled your hands from your face, replacing them with hers. As she cradled your face with her hands she smiled at you excited:

"That. Was. Fucking. Awesome. Babe, you were so hot fucking humiliating those pathetic worms."

The first thing Velvette did when they got back to the V tower was spam her groupchat with Valentino and Vox with messages about how cool you were. But you didn't need to know that. After all, she liked taking care of assholes for you. Satan forbid you actually grow a backbone. She dreaded the day you would actually gain the courage to deny her picking your clothes. (as if she would ever let that happen)

[shanastoryteller]

Happy happy holidays 🎁🎉🕎🎄❄☃️ As always, I’d love some more of thee MDZS Identity Porn (with the masks and LWJ getting jealous of all of his husband’s “husbands”) (Or JC traveling back in time?) Thanks!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Nie Huaisang has spent most of the banquet fluttering back and forth between his brother and Meng Yao, stroking and then soothing Nie Mingjue's anger by turns.

At this point, Lan Wangji can't help but find himself wholly unsympathetic to Nie Mingjue's plight. Meng Yao has his husband's trust and care and whatever friction he'd experienced in the Nie is lacking in the Burial Mounds.

The more formal portion of the night has faded and people are intermingling and drinking and spread throughout the Jin gardens and main hall.

Wen Qing spends the evening drinking and scowling and unsubtly putting as much distance between herself and Jiang Wanyin as possible.

Lan Wangji had gotten so caught up talking with his brother and other Lan, now that it's socially permissible to do so, that it takes him a while to notice that his husband is missing.

It takes him significantly less time to notice that Nie Huaisang is missing too.

His face drops into a scowl that he's afraid he's learned from Wen Qing. Xichen blinks then his eyebrows push together in concern. "Wangji?"

He forces his face to smooth out. "Apologies, brother. It's nothing."

Xichen raises an eyebrow then leads him away from the others with some murmured excuses that they pretend to believe. “Go on.”

“It’s fine,” he insists, then under his brother’s unwavering gaze swallows down his embarrassment to say, “The Yiling Patriarch and I have a political marriage.”

“Yes,” Xichen agrees in puzzlement before his faces darkens. “If he is behaving dishonorably-”

“He had a life before me, Xichen,” he says. “His personal and political interests are simply not aligned.”

Not completely. He had flustered Wei Wuxian before. He’s never seduced anyone before, but Wei Wuxian seems as if he’d be amenable, if only he can figure out how to do it.

Xichen looks at him carefully before his mouth tips up on the side. “This is displeasing to you. That the Patriarch’s interest in you is not personal.”

He flushes but gives a single nod.

There’s clear amusement in his tone now. “So he is handsome under the mask then?”

“Xichen,” he says, helpless and a warning at once. He’d spoken in generalities all evening, unwilling to reveal any of the particulars about the clan he’s married into, even to his brother. Meng Yao and Wen Qing are correct. Their clan will have to come more fully into the public soon but that’s Wei Wuxian’s decision, not his.

Well, realistically it’s Meng Yao’s, considering it seems as if Wei Wuxian would happily keep[ their clan in the shadows forever.

“Do you promise it’s not terrible?” Xichen continues, the teasing gone and just leaving gentle concern in its place. “You weren’t just saying that so the others wouldn’t worry? The burial mounds is such a horrible place. I hate thinking of you there.”

The burial mounds are beautiful.

It holds their village and their people and lush fields and thriving crops. There’s soft greys and blue skies and every horrible part of it is underneath his husband’s control and he would never, ever let that horror touch the people he’s sworn to protect.

“It’s not what it looks like on the outside,” he says finally. “The Patriarch isn’t either. You’ll understand when you see it.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Xichen says.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

until the morning comes {finnick odair}

plot: it's the day before the 75th hunger games and you and finnick share one last night together.

character: finnick odair x reader

His body is warm and comfortable, arms wrap around you tight and strong, he feels like home as you rest on him. Your eyes squeeze shut, trying to keep the tears at bay and trying to keep this memory forever. You have until the morning comes and then after that... who knows?

Tomorrow Finnick will be taken away to compete in another Hunger Games. Tomorrow will be different for it's victors of previous games that are competing. It's bullshit, you think, he went through hell and back and now they're making him do it again? Bullshit. You hate it. You hate them; Snow. Finnick does too but there's nothing the pair of you can do about it. It's got to happen and that's the end of it.

You should've ran away when you had the chance.

Finnick's eyes are trained on the ceiling as he tries to push the thoughts as far out of his head as possible. He has until the morning comes with you. It may be his last morning with you. The thought kicks him in the stomach, almost winding him, making him feel nauseous. The thought of going back into the arena terrifies him but even more so, it angers him. The rage burns strong and bright under his skin, coursing through his veins, a fire in his heart. How dare they do this to him again? How dare they make him compete again? After all that happened...

Your sniffing brings him back.

Wordlessly, he pulls you closer until your torsos are pressed together and your cheek is pressed to the crook of his neck. His hands rub your back, relishing in the way your skin feels beneath his nimble fingers. He wants to remember every single detail about you, every dimple, every freckle, every blemish; he wants to drink you in and keep your memory vivid and alive.

After all, he doesn't know if he'll come back to you.

No, he thinks, can't think like that.

He pulls you up, littering gentle kisses all over your face; your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, the corners of your mouth and then presses several soft kisses to your lips. He hates the sadness in your eyes, the tears that want to fall, the tremble in your lips. The pair of you stare deeply into the other's eyes, silently saying everything you want to.

I love you.

Be safe.

I'll do my best.

"You are the one thing that will keep me going," he whispers, the first words spoken in a few hours, "but please... no matter what happens, you have to carry on. No matter what they say about me, no matter what happens to me... you have to keep going."

All you can say is one word, "Please." It doesn't need an explanation, Finnick understands immediately.

Please stay alive. Please come home to me. Please don't die.

Finnick's eyes flood with tears and all he can do is nod. He pulls you down to him again as you both weep softly. Neither of you can believe that this is happening, that he's going again. Finnick's told you the horror of the 65th games and now, 10 years later, he's going to compete again.

For a while, you're silent again, the only sound being the ticking clock which hangs on the wall. You refuse to look at it, not wanting to know how long or little you have left. A few hours at least but it won't be enough. How can you fit the rest of your lives into a few hours?

Finnick's hand reaches to your cheek, stroking the soft skin gently, "We should try to sleep." His suggestion falls on deaf ears. Neither of you will sleep, you both know it. You'll be too worried about the morning, about the games, about him never returning.

You have until the morning comes.

It's a while later, you start to hear the birds singing outside and you know that morning fast approaches. Finnick shifts, propping himself up on his elbows to reach under his pillow. You lift your head, looking at him curiously.

"A promise," he says softly as he opens his palm to you, holding a ring. It's a simple ring, gold with three shiny diamonds, it looks expensive, "A promise that I am yours and you are mine. A promise to try my best to return to you. A promise that if-" when "-I do, we shall be wed immediately." His voice wobbles towards the end, "A promise that I shall love you for eternity." You're a mess of snot and tears as you sob into his arms. He holds you tight, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he too weeps quietly.

Goddamn Snow.

When the morning comes, it comes fast and furious with sun streaming through the curtains and already, you can hear the chatter of District 4. It's not long before there's a knock from the front door and Finnick gets dressed. Neither of you speak, you just watch with tired, stinging eyes.

It's when he's ready, that's when you stand and approach him for the last time. He kisses you, soft and lingering, not really wanting to let your lips go until there's another bang at the door.

Time's up, morning came.

"I love you," you croak as you begin to cry again, "please, Finn-"

He nods, knowing what you want to say. He kisses your forehead then lifts your hand to kiss the engagement ring that now resides on your left hand, "I promise," he whispers.

You hold his hand until he opens the front door, "I love you," he says, turning to look at you. He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. God you love that man with everything you have. His hand slips from yours and then the door closes and you dissolve into tears once again, on the floor in the hallway, house suddenly seemingly overwhelming large and empty.

Until we meet again.

[scekrex]

Hello ! How are you doing ? Could I ask for an Adam x reader who doesn't know how to say 'no' so Adam is kinda teaching him how to ? Just reader sweating profusely, looking at Adam, who's making big "No no" signs. I live in a community (?) and my asocial ass is /not/ liking it. I generally act like I'm napping when they're calling me (yes they can't see me but I still pretend in case there's invisible cameras) but when it's face to face, oh lord have mercy... I say yes. I hate driving (I'm a bad driver when I have people in my car...).

Thank you if you do it ! <3

As someone who had to learn that saying "no" is not only okay but also important, I love this request so much!! <3 I hope you like it

People Pleasing doesn't rock

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Saying no to things, especially people close to you, has always been a struggle, even during your days on earth. And living in heaven hadn't changed much about it. Well that wasn't entirely true, while living in heaven itself hadn't changed anything about that, Adam had. Or at least he was trying to.

He had started to realize that right when you met him. He had invited you to one of his concerts and while you really wanted to go, big crowds weren't your thing, they usually caused panic. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to say no, so you agreed. It ended with a panic attack for you and overwhelm for Adam and his band mates since none of them had known what to do. Luckily Lute had carried you through it - a thing you were forever thankful for.

Adam's arm was wrapped around your shoulders, his hand held onto yours to spend you comfort. While you were used to heaven and its people, it didn't mean that your panic was kicking in any less. However when you saw a familiar face in the distance, your mood changed a little and you gave them a bright smile, it was one of your closest friends. They walked right towards you and you poked Adam's side as the first man sighed as he noticed them. They weren't his favorite, in his opinion they were too pressuring and talked you into stuff more than they accepted you not wanting to do certain things. But it wasn't his place to tell you who to hang out with so he remained quiet.

“Hey Y/N,” they greeted you with a warm smile and the three of you stopped so that you and them could have a conversation. “Sup, are you doing okay?” They nodded before changing the topic from smalltalk to whatever it was they wanted to talk about, “So you know how I have this project going on?” You thought about it for a moment before you remembered what they were talking about, “Oh yeah, you mean that art project of yours, right? How's it going?” Their face scrunched up unpleasantly and they broke eye contact, “Not well to be honest and I thought-” Adam interrupted them rudely, his hand gave yours a soft squeeze as he spoke, “And you thought he could help you fix the motherfucking mess you created to save your own fucking ass, didn't you?” You looked up at Adam, the LED face of his mask represented the annoyance his voice had given away quite well, it was visible that he was having none of it.

You looked at your friend in front of you, “Is that true?” They seemed uncomfortable with the way Adam had worded their need even though he was right about it, “Well, sort of, I-” Yet again they were interrupted by Adam, “No.” And oh dear mighty Lord you thanked Adam for disagreeing with them. Because while you loved them, they asked for you to correct their mistakes a little too often. “I think Y/N can speak for himself,” they hissed at Adam who simply flipped them off. “Okay, hear it from him yourself then,” he gently squeezed your hand again and offered you a reassuring look. He'd have your back if they wouldn't respect your no, he'd get you out of the situation if you couldn't do it yourself. So you inhaled deeply and muttered, “Sorry, can't help you,” the words were spoken fast, almost too fast to process but your friend had managed to anyway. “But-” Adam's index finger was onto their lips within a heartbeat, shushing them without a word. “He said no, go look for some other fucker who's willing to fix your fucking mistakes,” and with that the first man lead you away from them.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you rested your head against his upper arm, still walking the streets. “Yeah, don't fucking mention it. But your ass really needs to learn how to stick the fuck up for yourself,” you sighed at his words, knowing he was right. You couldn't agree to anything, that would lead to you doing everyone's work, fixing everyone's life and drowning in your own problems. “But you did fucking great today, so how about we have your favorite dinner later, huh?” And at that you beamed at him, pure joy was visible in your eyes and he loved to see you that way. God help him, he'd do way too much to see you happy.

[alleunwalk]

because of how sad jujutsu kaisen has been i've been thinking what if they were just all actors and this was just one big drama series/movie.  I CAN DREAM OK?!

jjk actor au 

itadori: he's pretty much the same off-camera and on-camera. just generally so nice and kind to everyone on set. extremely good at remembering his lines last minute (gg photographic memory). always buys the hair/makeup and stylists coffee.  megumi: extremely loud, bubbly, and a total goofball. often breaks character just from laughing so much.  nobara: shes more soft-spoken, dainty and gentle off-camera but she's still a girlboss in her own way. shes a popstar/idol when she's not acting.  gojo: he's surprisingly a lot more reserved off-camera than on-camera but he can be goofy with his castmates, especially geto's actor. loves mentoring and giving advice to rookie actors.  geto: he's a lot louder and extraverted off-camera but put him in a room with gojo and they will literally pop off. the directors and crew groan when they see them together tbd. he and gojo's actor actually used to hate each other back in the day but they became the best of buds during the first tableread. their chemistry on-screen though constantly blows everyone away.  nanami: another goofball off-camera. known for his superior range. played in movies ranging from comedy, horror, and heart-tugging romance. put him in a room with gojo and geto and it ends up being immense chaos that the staff loses their minds. 

*the three of them can not take an interview seriously but they're all known to be extremely A-list top of the top actors in the industry who all have won awards. 

utahime: consider her like the 90s superstar actress of her generation. she started acting since she was a child. just superior all around and an absolute legend. cares for the younger cast very dearly.  shoko: another legend to walk among the set. was also a runway model. she's extremely smart off-camera too and was known to go to a prestigious university. hangs out with utahimes actress a lot.  *all of the cast get shook when they come on set-- the power these women hold is just unmatched. the beauty, grace and class they hold.... 

you can basically think that gojo, geto, nanami, utahime, shoko, sukuna, and toji are all just academy award winning legends among their generation. 

sukuna: his personality is pretty similar to yuji off-camera. just super sweet and kind. was amazed the casting directors found someone who looked just like him as a kid. loves joking around with yuji. breaks character a lot too because yuji keeps making him laugh.  toji: the cast tends to joke about how he could look like megumis real dad. loves telling dad jokes-- which only megumi ends up laughing at for real. (he calls him dad as a joke during cast interviews.) 

maki: a lot more reserved off-camera. gives off really chic vibes and everyone is intimidated by her cool, suave personality. started her career off as a model.  mai: also reserved, just like her sister. they're both pretty introverted off-camera and tend to keep to themselves but hangs out with nobara's actress a lot on the weekends as a trio. they love shopping and going to cool restaurants together.  inumaki: loves pulling pranks on people and filming tiktoks behind set. this kid doesn't take anything seriously but that's what people love about him.  panda: under the panda costume/CG effects is a guy who's just stellar at voice acting but people get shocked by how handsome he is when he doesn't have the costume on. super silly with inumaki and often joins his pranks.  yuta: similar to itadori- his character is the same on/off camera that people can't tell if he's acting. really famous for acting in a lot of melodramas.  todo: HUGEEE nerd and softie off-camera. is the biggest scaredy cat on set hence he's the main target for all the pranks when the cast pulls them (cough* inumaki). loves collecting plushies as a hobby. would not hurt a fly. him and yuji really did become best friends irl. miwa: down-to-earth, just very sweet. pretty much the same on/off camera. she's good at crying on command.  muta: he's very talkative and just loves chatting with anyone and everyone on set. he wants to know everyones life story. just super genuine. like his character, he has a huge crush on miwa.  kamo: SUPERRRR clumsy off-camera. he's always accidentally slipping on the fake blood or dropping something. it's okay though, he just laughs it off.  momo: tends to sit in her trailer and plays video games when it's downtime. very laissez faire about everything but that's what makes her so easy to work with.

mahito: extremely serious off-camera. only keeps things professional. doesn't mess around when it comes to work. doesn't have any bloopers when it comes to his scenes. he's a really nice guy though when you get to know him. choso: golden retriever energy. super talkative and loves getting to know people just like muta. he remembers really endearing memories about people. asks staff members how they're doing and checks up on them. loves hanging out with yuji on the weekends. 

[toruro]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Maknae line - having a argument and making up after a fight ? Thank you 🤍 love your work

maknae line + fighting with them

a/n: of course! i’m so glad you’re liking my work! this was a fun write, but writing for vernon for this scenario was sooo difficult for me lmfoa?!?! anyways pt.2 of them making up can be found here and hyung line's version is right here! c: please leave likes/comments/reblogs if you enjoyed!

w/c: 2.1k

seokmin

in large arguments like this, he’s just as much of a mess as you are. you’re both emotional, and while some might think that large arguments like this are impossible between you just because of how soft-spoken he is, they’re so, so wrong. the fact that you’re both so emotionally driven heightens arguments like this, even though they may be rare. you’d both be crying for sure, yet neither of you relent because you want this issue to resolved and you’re both too stuck up in how you’re feeling individually to think about compromises and solutions. it’ll just go back and forth for literally ages until one of you just can’t find it in you to even cry or yell back anymore. once you've both reached your breaking points, it'll be pin-drop silence. neither of you would be saying a word, the only noises coming from the shaky inhales and exhales. eventually seokmin would get up and grab himself a glass of water, retreating to your bedroom afterwards. you use these moments to think about your next actions, but with your mind all foggy like this, all you really want to do is sleep. you debate for a few moments if you should choose to sleep in the guest room or follow seokmin and sleep with him. your head is telling you that maybe you need space but your heart is telling you that you can't bear to be this distant from him in a time like this, and quickly follow in his footsteps, crawling into your spot on the bed next to him without a word. seokmin doesn't speak either, but the way that he shuffles just a little closer to you under the covers sends you the message that things will be okay.

mingyu

i can see him getting *really* worked up by arguments just because he tends to get blinded by his own emotions. when you guys are in an especially big argument, he’d definitely forget completely about what you guys are even fighting over and will try to nitpick at your words because he just lets everything get to your head. oh you want him to change some of his behaviors? that must mean you hate him. and let me tell you this man is SO stubborn that once his mind is set on one idea, as long as he’s angry and heated like this, he will NOT relent at all (thinking abt that one time jeonghan talked abt an argument he had with mingyu where they were yelling so much that jeonghan lost his voice but mingyu kept going help). he’ll be so stuck in his head and it all just builds up and you’d be getting sososo frustrated it would literally bring tears to your eyes and with everything that he’s saying and everything that you’re thinking, nothing is making sense because there’s just so much going on. at some point you feel like you can’t even comprehend the words coming out of his mouth so you cut him off, saying, “mingyu i can’t do this anymore,” and that’ll make him stop dead. you’d realize he thinks you’re talking your relationship in general, and while the silence is thick, you clarify, “this argument. i can’t think right now,” you murmur. you realize that mingyu’s breath is labored and that this entire fight has really taken a toll on you both, and he takes a moment to respond. “okay,” is all he says, and he doesn’t move when you go to the bedroom to grab a pillow and blanket because he only thinks you’re going to get into bed. when you walk out and place the two on the couch, he catches on, quickly catching your wrist before you can lay down. “what are you doing,” he’d ask. “going to sleep?” you shoot back. “okay well sleep on the bed.” you’d shake your head. “i want to clear my mind.” mingyu tugs at your wrist, “okay well do that on the bed.” like i said, mingyu is STUBBORN he definitely won’t relent until you finally agree to sleep on the bed with him, even if you two aren’t pressed up against each other like usual.

minghao

i said this earlier but the yelling-in-each-other’s-faces kind of arguments don’t happen with minghao. with the others, those kind of arguments may be rare but with minghao they are quite literally nonexistent. that doesn’t mean you two don’t argue or have issues, but having them emotionally escalate to that level with either of you can’t even think is just not something minghao or you will let happen. the worst of your arguments are still quite tolling though: you and minghao would start talking faster and maybe not all of your words are thought through but whenever either of you realizes what’s going on, you’d take it as your chance to just stay quiet for a few moments, collecting your thoughts. tonight, you’re both frustrated and emotional and you know that this isn’t the best time to have this kind of conversation. eventually, minghao will say what you’re both thinking: “i don’t think we should talk about this right now.” you agree with him, you know you do, but you’re so upset and desperate to fix this issue and for once you speak without thinking, “then when will we?” and the words come out harsher than you’d like. minghao gives you That Look and you’d falter. “in the morning,” he tells you, “we should sleep now.” he can tell you’re hesitant so he walks across the room to where you’re standing to hold your hand and gently pull you to the bedroom. he understands that you’re still tentative and doesn’t push you to do anything you don’t want, but is still insistent on the fact that he wants the two of you to at least still sleep in the same bed.

seungkwan

petty as fuck. kind of like mingyu in the sense that he would definitely nitpick at your words and make the argument far more stretched out than it should be. you love him and all off his dramatics but in some situations it’s just too much, and this happens to be one of those rare occasions. you’re just trying to get your point across and you get the feeling he isn’t really listening to you—it's infuriating to say the least. you're both upset and frustrated and seungkwan is too angry, too caught up in the moment to catch on. it's when your tears stop steadily falling and you end up bawling into your hands that seungkwan seems to sober up. you're crying out so loud and so hard hat neither you can think, seungkwan standing still on the opposite side of the room while you just bury your head in your hands, trying your best to take in deep breaths and ease yourself. seungkwan is, least to say, astounded with himself. he's still upset, still angry, but the only thought at the forefront of his mind is the fact that you're literally sobbing your eyes out and it's his fault. he's not sure how it came to this point, since the moments before you crying were pretty much just a raging blur for him. now is seungkwan's time to step back and reflect on anything and everything he's said in the past few minutes, eventually making the decision to walk over to you and place a hand on your shoulder, hoping it'll help ground you, help calm you down. and much to his tentative relief, it works, and you're able to start muttering words about how you're too tired to talk about this anymore, sinking into seungkwan's arm further. he feels his soul nearly crush at the sight, pushing any anger towards this situation to the back of his mind before he's pulling you along with him to the bedroom. "sleep," he'd instruct, opening the covers for you, and when you look at him with puffy cheeks and glossy eyes, he sighs heavily, "we'll fix things in the morning, i promise." as you both slip under the covers, you drift off to sleep with the welcoming thought that you know seungkwan always lives up to his promises.

vernon

vernon in a serious argument is reserved. it almost pisses you off how he's just...taking everything in. you'd be talking endlessly about your feelings and trying to discuss the issue and he wouldn't even look at you, having his eyes trained on the ground intently. after what feels like ages of you just pretty much talking to yourself, you sigh in defeat, crossing your arms over each other as you blink furiously, trying not to cry. "can you at least pretend you care?" you spit out without thinking, and you regret it for a moment but then you don't, not if it has vernon looking up at you, seemingly more reactive to your words right now than in the past ten minutes. "i—i'm sorry, i'm—i'm thinking," he'd stutter a bit before looking you in the eyes properly, "i care, you know i do, i just—this is a lot." you want to cry even more now, not because you think he's lying but because you know he's telling the truth—it's glaringly obvious to you now that this issue is, in fact, quite a lot and you know vernon likes to take things slowly. you're honestly a little desperate to get this whole situation resolved right now, but you're tired and vernon is tired and you don't know how you're going to make it work. vernon notices this doubt on your face, stepping forward to take your hand. "i'm so sorry," he'd murmur again when you struggle to meet his eyes, "i just—it's late, and i'm trying to think about everything and it's not making sense right now and i think we need to talk about this later." you want to frown and protest, say that no! we need to talk about this now! but you know vernon's right and that if you keep this up you'll keep going in circles. you'd let out a short hum of approval before letting vernon pull you by the hand to the bedroom. he notices your hesitation to get into bed next to him, but he gives you a look which is filled with so much sincerity that any thoughts you have of sleeping on the couch are withering away.

chan

he’d be very mature about most arguments, but that doesn’t mean he’s the best at controlling his emotions when things get abnormally out of hand. you aren’t sure when this argument escalated from just going back and forth to pretty much yelling at each other from across the room but it happens and you’re not thinking straight—not seeing straight, definitely not through the tears in your eyes. chan would be glossy eyed too, and this whole situation is less about you two being stubborn and more about you both trying to communicate your emotions in it’s full capacity. normally that would be good—you and chan are heavy on being honest about your emotions but when both of you are thinking and feeling so many things, it’s hard to comprehend, let along discuss how you’re feeling. it’s after you go on a long, long tangent about something when chan doesn’t reply, kind of just staring at the floor with a clouded expression. he’d be trying to formulate a response but his brain would be fried and all he can think about his how he painfully wants this issue to be resolved, but fights back the thought that you guys can’t do that right now—not when you’re both so foggy minded. “i’m sorry,” you’d finally whisper, looking down at the ground as well, not finding it in you face chan. “i don’t think we can talk about this right now,” chan says in response with a heavy sigh. “let’s just—“ he takes a shaky breath to run a hand down his face to wipe away some stray tears, “—let’s talk about this in the morning.” you’d follow him to the bedroom and the thought of sleeping in the living room crosses your mind, but when you see chan crash down into the mattress, obviously exhausted, you just *know* your heart won’t let you do that. instead, you crawl into the bed next to him, and while you have a feeling a bit of distance would be good, you can’t help but curl up by chan’s side tentatively, sinking further into the sheets when he grips you closer without a word.

[love-is-embarrassing]

how about sam or taras reaction to ghostface killing reader? and maybe getting revenge?

The one that got away

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader (& Platonic Tara Carpenter x Reader)

Word Count: 0.7k (pretty short, sorry ♡)

CW: Death, violence, grief, angst, murder, brief sexual reference, you die sorry, graphic language, unhappy ending

Sam was going to Kill Richie.

She was going to tear him open again and again until he couldn't even scream without choking on his own blood.

It didn't matter that she’d been stabbed, it didn't matter that he had the gun. Seeing you fall to ground, gushing blood, she knew she was going to fucking kill him.

"You know, Sam. I'm starting to think I wasn't the only one being a little less than faithful." Richie gestured to your motionless form. "Or are you gonna tell me you haven't been eye-scissoring your galpal over there since we came to Woodsboro?"

"Fuck you!"

She hated the red-hot fury coursing through her. She hated that she’d already made up her mind about this. You’d always told her she was nothing like her dad, but…

She had to make him pay. For what he did to Tara, to her and now to you.

You, the first person she ever opened up to. You, who were so understanding and still said you loved her just as earnestly.

She felt like the biggest idiot in the world for ever thinking you could've been Ghostface.

When she saw you again for the first time in five years she was so mesmerized she almost forgot why she was in Woodsboro. She almost forgot she had a boyfriend too.

You wrapped your arms around her and it was like she was 16 again in one of those fleeting moments where nothing else mattered because she was with you.

Then a bouquet that must have been for Tara grazed her back and she remembered where she was.

"Hey... It's good to see you again, Sam."

"That's a relief..."

A relief she wasn't so sure she was owed.

How you could greet her like that with the history the two of you had -with the bitter way she had brought that history to a close no less- she had no idea, but she clung to you gratefully.

You were as soft and warm as she remembered and all too soon she had to pull back and retreat into herself. You weren't her's anymore, she ruined that. She couldn't let you make her heart flutter like nothing changed. Like she didn't have a boyfriend now.

"It's good to see you too. Or it would be if the circumstances weren't so fucking shitty."

"I know. I can't believe it. Have you spoken to Tara?”

Despite herself, her heart fluttered. You’d always cared so much about Tara, not as an obligation because you were dating her sister, truly cared. It was one of the things Sam liked most about you.

"Yeah, I have... and she mentioned you've been looking out for her since I... went away. Thank you."

You smiled -but it wasn't that bright, disarming smile you had that hit Sam's system like a love potion. Your face struggled against it.

"Yeah. Of course."

So... You did resent Sam a little. She guessed it wasn't fair to expect any different.

Despite that resentment you still visited Tara again the next day. You still saved Sam's boyfriend when Ghostface attacked the hospital-

-except you didn't, because he was never in any real danger... And that was ex boyfriend now.

And now you were lying on the floor, bleeding out and unresponsive because of fucking goddamn Richie.

He was getting cocky. He underestimated how much strength Sam had left in her because she was crawling away, he couldn't see the rage bubbling beneath her fear.

He couldn't have made it easier to get the knife in his neck.

A woman possessed, she stabbed him again and again and again, tearing into his chest until it was more blood than skin.

She couldn't stab him enough for every betrayal, for every way he hurt someone she cared about but she could fucking try.

With nothing but bloody remains left in front of her, profound coldness settled inside Sam. She stared long and hard at what used to be Richie because she knew when she stopped she’d have to look at you. What used to be you.

A piercing gasp came from behind her, Sam’s insides twisted as it turned into sobs.

Tara found you.

It was only when Richie’s body blurred that Sam realized her sister wasn't the only one crying.

[justlikemebutsixfootthree]

direction -

pairing:  matty healy x f!reader

content: fingering, unprotected sex, matty can't shut the fuck up™, overstim

wordcount: 3743

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: the people have spoken

your motto has always been "fake it till you make it". what started as something you'd say to yourself to get over anxieties slowly bled into other areas of your life, relationships included.

fake confidence until you have it. fake experience until you get some.

easy, right?

well, over time, you've become a pro faker. people rarely approach you cause they think you're arrogant.

and that suits you. who has time for superficial relationships anyways?

but then you met matty, who's gentle, kind, funny, smart. he never gave up on you, even if you sometimes came off as stand-offish, even if you acted like you were too good for him and men in general, even if you fought him every step of the way, surprised by his determination.

in the beginning, you played along. you let him try to woo you, let him compliment you and take you out. you responded to all of his texts, even if you are both too old to be texting like high schoolers. slowly but surely, he made you drop the façade, at least around him, which is when your relationship became more than just teasing glances and flirty texts.

everything led up to where you are now: in matty's stupidly comfortable bed, wearing his stupidly warm sweater, kissing his stupidly pretty face.

the movie he had put on was some cheesy horror flick: lots of fake blood, shitty special effects, and a naive main character. it's long forgotten though, mediocre soundtrack serving as background noise to a much more exciting activity.

you've always prided yourself on how strong you were, not being easily swayed by your sexual urges. fake it until you make it - but what then?

what if matty expects you to rock his world tonight? what if he thinks you'll take the lead, with the same (fake) confidence you do everything else? 

technically, you know how it should all work, but you have no first-hand experience. your sexual endeavours end pretty fast, either with you giving up on the guy or them thinking you're too demanding for someone who isn't putting out. either way, it’s good riddance, and you’ve never had regrets about not having sex before. 

once, during your intense college years, you had to present your research in front of all your peers. the stress caused you to lose sleep, and you replaced eating with frantic rewriting. by the time the due date rolled around, your brain was scrambled, and you were positive you were going to puke all over the front row of desks.

now, underneath the warm weight of your boyfriend, you’re feeling exactly the same way. what if you manage to do something so revoltingly off-putting he can never look at you again?

"hey."

matty's soft voice shocks you out of your quickly spiralling head. he's looking down at you with gentle, but confused, eyes.

"you've gone all stiff on me, love. you feelin' okay?"

you should've known he'd see through your wall of false confidence.

"y'know we don't have to do anything, right? you look like you're about to cry."

you refuse to dignify that with a response as heat floods your face and, mortifyingly, prickles in your sinuses. he sighs, rolling off of you and laying on his side, facing you.

“that was meant to make you laugh.”

you try to smile at him and feel your lips wobble instead.

“hey. i'm being serious, what’s going on in there?” he brings his hand up, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“i don’t want to repulse you,” you whisper.

he frowns. "you've got a horrific confidence problem. there is nothing, and i mean nothing, repulsive about you. and besides, i've already seen you at your grossest. remember when you got mono and your neck was all swollen?"

you glower at him. “yeah, and i caught it from you! that makes me feel so much better.”

shaking his head, his next words are insistent. 

“i mean it. did you know, that every time we go out, someone tells me how lucky i am? c'mon, darling, you know i wouldn't be saying this shit if it wasn't true.”

“i know, and i want to, but fuck, matty it's going to be so bad.”

“well yeah, with that attitude it will. we’re gonna figure out what you like, but only if you want to.”

his eyes are soft, looking down at you with unguarded warmth. 

clearing your throat, you fidget nervously with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“so. how - um - how do you want to...?”

he grins crookedly. “move to the middle of the bed.”

swallowing hard, you follow his instructions, legs splayed flat out in front of you as you lean back on your elbows, staring at him expectantly.

“this is about you, okay? whatever you want to do, we can do. including nothing, if it doesn’t feel right.”

your voice is barely more than a whisper. “want you to touch me.”

you could swear you hear a little hitch in his breath, and mustering all the courage you have, you meet his gaze. his mouth is slightly open, the curved bow of his upper lip revealing the edges of his white teeth, and you watch as he presses his lips closed, nodding.

"okay. you gotta talk to me, yeah? tell me if you want me to stop, if something feels good, or if you want more. deal?”

“deal,” you breathe back.

he moves, bending his head to press his mouth on the side of your neck. something splinters hot down the centre of your body, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s desire, pure and hard, crystalline. you can already feel slick warmth in your underwear, and you haven’t even started.

“oh,” you gasp, the round syllable small in your mouth, and he lowers his hand, smoothing down the bunched fabric of your (his) sweater, following the swell of your hip, moving slowly so you have time to breathe.

“good?” he murmurs, and you nod dumbly.

he inches lower, hand flat on your leg, fingers resting just a hairsbreadth from your centre. matty drags his hand lightly along the inside of your thigh, opening his mouth on your neck, tongue hot as he presses it to the softness of your skin.

“how ‘bout now?”

“mhm,” you manage.

unbearably careful, he brushes the tip of his index finger along the seam of your pants, the pressure light, but precise, right against the place you’re most sensitive. your left leg jerks as though you’ve been shocked, and he freezes his hand there, lips sealing around your neck, holding you until you stop twitching with alarm.

you can already feel a steady pooling in your underwear, and you shift uncomfortably against him, unsure if you’re doing it to relieve the ache between your legs or to increase the friction against you.

still moving with absolute restraint, he presses down, a slow, controlled line directly down the centre of your cunt. the tension in every single joint is making you shake, muscles burning with the effort of holding still, and you swear you feel something crack as he eases his touch up to rest at the waistband of your pants, before sliding his hand underneath.

“you still with me?" he murmurs and you can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe.

his callused fingers are resting just above your pussy, palm lightly pressed to the rise of your mound, and he lifts his lips to graze your ear.

“you gotta talk to me,” he reminds you.

you shudder, releasing your held breath, shoulders sore from the stiffness of your body. 

“yes. yes, i’m - it’s good, please don’t stop.”

he opens his hand, letting his middle finger drag slowly between your folds, and you feel it at the same moment he does; you’re soaked.

so unbelievably wet it feels like something’s gone wrong and you want to shut your legs and crawl away from him. your skin is prickling with heat as you feel a slow line of sweat roll down the back of your leg, making you squirm, desperate to shuck your skin.

“oh, baby..." he breathes, the edges of his teeth scraping your earlobe. “you’re soaked.”

clenching your eyes shut, your is voice petulant as you murmur back to him.

“i can’t help it, i don’t know why, it’s not my fault. i -"

“shush. it’s so fucking hot. you’re so reactive,” he says, voice gravelly. he slides a second finger to join the first, parting them and spreading your folds. even through the fabric of your pants, you can both hear the slick sound and you want to die; burrow into a hole somewhere and never come out. as though sensing your squirming agony, he chooses that moment to ease both fingers inside you, and your heart stops in your chest at the slow stretch.

this is matty. your matty. and right now his fingers are inside you, stretching you open.

the thought alone is enough to make your entire body throb with a sudden, overpowering pulse and you feel yourself clench around him unconsciously. he groans into your ear.

“you’re so tight. shit, you feel perfect. does that feel good?”

you can’t speak, nodding helplessly against him. he withdraws a couple of centimetres, easing back inside slower but deeper than before, hooking his fingers slightly inside you. your hips flex against his touch, trying to encourage him to keep moving as he rolls his thumb over your clit, and you see stars.

matty's touch feels as confident as the way he performs; like he was born to do this; like he could do it in his sleep.

he drags his fingers inside you, and your pelvis lifts unconsciously to follow his movements, trying to chase the feeling.

“you’re doing so good, baby. you're so pretty, so fucking hot. y'gonna come for me, love?”

despite the intensity of the sensations between your legs, it’s his words that tip you over the edge. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to contain the high-pitched groan as your muscles clamp around his fingers, cunt fluttering. You feel your warmth coating his fingers, and he rides you through it, his movements only easing to a stop once your body has relaxed into a melted heap draped over him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers from your pants, sliding out from underneath you and lowering your malleable, floppy limbs onto the bed. you watch him drunkenly as he sits up in front of you on his knees, gaze snagging on his hand.

you’re mortified at the sight of the clear viscous fluid stretching between his parted fingers, and you just about die of embarrassment as he brings his hand to his lips, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“perfect. you’re perfect,” he tells you, and you want to cover your face, but you’re pinned there, watching. his pants are tented tellingly in the front, and you’re trying not to make it obvious but you can’t tear your gaze away. 

“told you. nothing wrong with you,” he informs you, grinning.

“i’m gonna take your pants off,” he says, and you lift your hips helpfully, earning a little twist from his lips at your enthusiasm. sliding your legs free, he settles on his knees. your eyes are drawn back helplessly to the bulge in his pants, and he catches you looking.

“matty, i want - want you to...”

“what, love? c'mon, talk to me.” he crawls up over you, braced on his hands and knees, leaning down.

“fuck me.”

he raises an eyebrow. “you need a break first?”

in response, you lift your hips to press against the hard outline of his straining cock. he ducks his head, leaning his weight up on one arm as he kicks his pants down and you watch the muscles in his shoulder work through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby. you want that?”

“yeah,” you whisper. “yes, do it, please.” 

“do what?” matty asks with a wry smile. he’s propped up on one elbow now, gazing down into your raw, open face. “c’mon, you've got to say it for me, angel.”

you let out a shaky sigh, a hand sliding down to the back of matty's neck. you pull him close, so your lips brush. “please fuck me. need you so bad.”

matty's eyes flutter closed for a moment. he breathes out hard, then leans away, and sits up. he's struggling with getting his pants all the way off, so you help the best you can, feeling fluttery and strange, in a feverish trance of pleasure, dumb with anticipation for more.

“please,” you mutter, “please, come on, i want it-”

“fuck, fuck, okay…” matty says, chuckling. “you gotta take it easy with the begging, sweetheart. i’m already putting everything i have into not coming the second i get inside you.” 

flushing, you brush the stray curls from matty's face. "you said you'd make it good. so shut up, and fuck me already."

"there’s my favourite brat,” matty says with a grin, then he’s holding himself at your entrance, easing in slowly, a hand on your waist. 

he’s big. you have a moment of panic at the stretch, and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his forearms as though you could somehow control the movement of his hips that way.

his teeth are pressed to his lip, eyes shut, and you wonder exactly how tight it is for him as he shudders through an exhalation. he forces his eyes open to look down at you, concern evident, checking up on you even as his arms shake with the effort of holding still.

“oh, sh - shit. you good?”

nodding, you release your own held breath with a shudder, your entire body trembling violently underneath him, thighs aching from how tightly wound your muscles are. he sinks down another inch and you both hiss in synchrony, your fingers tightening around his arms just as his tighten around your waist.

“you’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he’s breathing, the fullness unbearable. you arch your neck to look down at where you’re split open around him, the sight enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. he looks down in time to see your eyes widen, and he follows your gaze, his strangled intake of breath following.

“you see that? see how perfect you are? fuck, you’re so beautiful, you’re so tight, you feel incredible...” 

you press your lips to his, stopping his unhinged babbling. you’re trying your hardest just to concentrate on taking his thick cock, breathing through the desperate ache as he slowly forces you open. he parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. his groaning response makes him slip, losing control for one second, just long enough to let him sink the rest of the way inside you. he’s trying to break from your lips, but you don’t want to listen to whatever it is he’s about to say, so you gently bite down on his lower lip, holding him captive. his hips flex helplessly into you as he tries to talk again, and despite your breathlessness, you could almost laugh at the fact that even now, typically; matty healy just cannot shut the fuck up.

the agonizing, all-encompassing stretch is slowly easing into something else; something bright and hard, sending skittering shockwaves up through your stomach. experimentally you flatten your feet on the bed under you, using the leverage to push your hips up and—shit, it’s too much, too full, you can’t possibly take any more of him but then right there, the angle shifts, and something snaps in your brain.

you wrench your head back, keening as you try to grind up into that spot, that fucking spot. matty's eyes are unfocused, his expression pained.

“baby, wait, wait a sec,” and you can’t help but roll yourself against him again, making him choke.

“what’s wrong?” you breathe back, unable to keep still, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up against him.

“is this...not good?” you ask, suddenly small.

he doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as sweat beads on his upper lip, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“matty?” you try again and he makes a strangled sound, eyes snapping open to pin you down.

“say my name again,” and you barely shape your lips around it before he’s hissing, driving his hips down to smack hard into yours, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

“d’yknow how - how many times i’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this?” he punctuates his words with short, hard thrusts. “you’re fucking perfect. your pussy's, fuck - fucking perfect.”

your face erupts with heat at his words. he catches you flinching and his eyes light, grinning even as you watch the muscles in his shoulders shake with the effort of controlling himself.

“why’s that make you shy? don’t like me talking about your pussy? you wanna know how good you feel, baby? you’re—shit,” another shallow thrust, his brows pinching together, “so tight and, fuck, taking me so well…” his rambling trails out into nonsensical murmurs. 

he’s slowly working into a rhythm, flexing his hips backwards, still short and shallow but he’s angling himself so precisely, right against the place where you can’t stand, and it’s too much. you squirm back into the mattress, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go as the sensation swells to a crest. you tighten around him, your legs falling limp, your fingers creeping up into his hair, needing something to brace yourself against as the growing reverberations between your legs throb outwards, filling your stomach with heat.

you can almost see your orgasm rocketing up through you, your vision cutting out right as you shatter with a pathetic moan of his name. your cunt clamps down on him hard, again and again, rippling around him. he watches you fall apart, his breathing steady despite the tremor in his limbs. he barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s moving again, deepening his thrusts, expression one of absolute focus. the sheer concentration in his eyes scares the shit out of you; you know that look. it’s the one he gets whenever someone tells him no to an idea in the studio, when someone says that he shouldn't put out another black and white music video, when his bullish stubbornness completely takes over.

matty leans back, raising himself onto his knees between your spread legs. he brings a hand under each of your knees, crooking your legs up around his waist as he works in and out of you, the wet squelch of your cunt loud over the muffled sounds of the forgotten movie as he begins to fuck you in earnest. you can’t breathe, incapacitated by the shuddering of your legs, your stomach muscles clenching as your body desperately tries to keep up with your frantic gasping. your back is arched, your shoulders forced down into the bed with the force of each thrust as he reaches down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit as easily as though your body is laid out the same as his guitars or keyboards, practised and nimble.

sweat prickles your skin anew as his fingers drag you higher and incomprehensibly higher and you wail, slapping a hand over your mouth to still the sound. he leans over you, the triangle of bare skin at his chest gleaming with sweat, fine silver chain glinting under the edge of his shirt. he grabs your wrist and moves your hand aside, pinning it to the bed beside your head.

"hey, hey. c'mon babe, let me hear you." he times a perfectly-aligned thrust with a firm stroke over your clit and, unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathless moan. he grins, chuckling breathily.

"god, you sound so good. prettiest fuckin' thing ive ever heard," he murmurs, voice ragged. he rips the sound from you again, and again, watching greedily. it’s too much, way too much and you’re already over the edge of another orgasm before you realize what’s happening, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in wordless pleasure.

this time he doesn’t slow down, instead increasing the pressure on your clit, fucking you deeper. his cock hits something sharp high up in your guts and you sob as another orgasm rolls up from your stomach, washing over the last climax. your hips twitch helplessly against his grip as he fucks you through each wave of pleasure, and you think you’re coming again, or still coming, you can’t tell anymore, time losing all meaning as your cunt sucks wet at his cock, bearing down on him vice-tight.

some impossible time later, you realize his breaths have shortened into gasps. his hips stutter and he leans back down over you, arms braced on either side of your head as his pace falls out of its steady rhythm. you manage to regain control of yourself long enough to reach a hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the hem of his shirt under your fingers. he looks down at you, and his mouth drops open, eyes dropping shut as he groans your name, low and rough, and as he plunges in deep you actually feel him coming before he does. his back curves over you, his forehead pressed to yours as his hips shudder, and the tightening of his stomach muscles against yours is echoed inside you as his cock throbs, filling you.

he lays heavy on your chest, both of you panting. everything is so slick underneath you, you can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s cum, your skin feverish. you shift your thighs restlessly, sticky and aching and he raises his head, looking down at you.

“was that...okay?” you breathe, self-conscious again.

his eyes shut briefly as he shakes his head.

“you’re crazy. she’s crazy,” he says to nobody in particular, lifting himself over you, hands pressing into the mattress. 

gasping, you sit up on your elbows to look down at him.

“what are you doing?”

his tongue laves long stripe along your still-sensitive pussy, dipping briefly inside before he breaks the contact to look up at you, eyebrow raised.

“cleaning you up. you thought we were done?”

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© 2023 justlikemebutsixfootthree - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or claim as yours

[st-el-la-luna]

Thinking about König

Mainly, thinking about his anxiety being like my anxiety. It's social anxiety but more than the "oh no, people, scary!" That people tend to generalize it as.

That's not to say that it isn't like that. Yes, people are intimidating, especially large groups of them. Or if you're being put in a command position. Or if you're in a position to be judged... Which is most situations. (Public speaking, especially for school projects is especially bad).

But it's not just shyness. It's also the aversion.

Walking through the halls, with a dead sort of stare. Not intentionally intimidating, but it's very much a resting bitch face, look at me and I'll kill you sort of expression.

Saying as little as possible to people he's not comfortable with.

"yes."

"no."

"I don't like that."

"I don't want to."

"we are not friends."

Staring so intently at people that it unsettles them.

"-and that's why I think... Why... It's... Is everything okay, Colonel?"

"Ja, why?"

"You're, uh... You're looking very intently."

"This is just how I look. Eye contact is important."

"uhh... Right, it's just... I haven't seen you blink?"

"I blink when you blink."

Like, yes, of course there are situations where he gets mousy voiced or sweaty palms. But not at work, no. At work he's able to conjure up, maybe not confidence, but something.

At a restaurant though? Speaking softly, making himself small, saying please and thank you after every sentence. It doesn't matter what the server does, he's always soft spoken and polite, nervous. If he asks for no pickles and they bring him his dish with pickles, he'll eat it. If he orders a chicken sandwich and they bring him a burger, he'll eat it. If he tells them that he has a deadly peanut allergy and they bring him a tub of peanut butter... He'll send that back, but he'll be polite about it.

"Oh, ja, I'm sorry, I... This isn't what I ordered. Oh, no, no, it's okay, don't apologize. I'm sorry. You're busy. It's fine, I understand."

Sometimes during mission briefs he will randomly growl and smack his fist on the table. People think he's mad at them and straighten up, stop sipping so loud, on their best behaviour. He actually just got mad at himself, remembered something embarrassing from his past.

He almost acts like a narcissist. Passes by a mirror, winks at his reflection: "How's it going, good looking?"

Makes jokes about being the pretty one. People think he's full of himself.

He actually hates himself but has replaced negative self talk with show boating. He doesn't hate himself any less, but he tells himself to kill himself way less often!

Always has some sort of plan. An escape route, a plan of attack. Watching the people around him nervously.

Sits in the back of the room so he can watch everybody. Sits with his chair pushed far back so he can stand quicker.

Glares at people who walk by. Gives their dogs heart eyes. Prays that the owners realize and ask him if he wants to say hello. He's too awkward to ask permission. And he's too angry looking for people to offer.

Represses lots of anger from incidents he feels he can't lash out in, goes batshit in training or on missions. (I used to do kick boxing, the gym people had to keep coming up to me and moving my punching bag back because I was hitting it too hard).

The kind of person to, when going to someone's house, immediately look for signs of a pet. If he finds it. The animal is now his best friend. Goes to a party hangs with the dog type of beat.

Thinks smoking pot would help him. But the idea makes him nervous. Which he thinks, smoking pot would help... But the idea of smoking pot makes him nervous. But he–

Will just lie to get out of shit.

"Hey, we're going to get drinks tonight, do you want to come?"

"ah, I can't... I promised to get dinner with a friend."

Goes home and enjoys a night alone.

Avoidant. Will just not do things that cause him stress. Hasn't been to the dentist in years because talking to the lady at reception makes him nervous. What if the phone signal is bad? What if it just keeps breaking up? What if she can't understand his accent? What if when he gets to the dentist they hate him for the state of his teeth? What if he goes to the dentist and they steal his teeth?! It's happened before! He's seen articles!

Gets adopted by extroverts by being unhinged.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Horangi asks.

"I heard that human meat tastes like pork... The best pork, actually." König says absently.

"Huh... And you know this why?"

"I was curious."

"okay... Let's go to dinner."

"Ja, let's."

A sort of dry air about him that comes off as a lack of empathy. But he's just got so much going on in his brain that he can't focus on emoting anything but augghskft.

Will stare off into space with a blend of the hundred yard stare and the most murderous expression known to man. He's not mad. He's just thinking.

Undiagnosed autism

Forgets people's names, gets to nervous to ask again. So he just calls everyone "you".

Acts cold and indifferent. He just really hates small talk, doesn't understand it. Why say something if it's not important? He doesn't care about your grandchildren. Or your wife. Or your morning.

Is the world's best host mainly out of fear. Asking if you need food or a drink or a blanket or if–

König who after confrontations, has to take a step back, hands shaking slightly. But who's also still super pissed and ready to throw punches at the drop of a hat

König who worries so much about physical affection that it just becomes too much. Hugs are suffocating, hands are held too tight, cuddling is like being smothers. But it takes him a long time to initiate anything. God forbid you initiate anything. Hug the man and he bluescreens

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Masterlist

[hanniefangz]

his universe - ★｡･:*:･ﾟ

pairing: dad!jisung x F!reader

tags: fluff, angst [kinda]

summary: jisung is worried about not being a good father to his daughter, y/n convinces him otherwise.

word count: 2K

it wasn't unusual for you to hear the soft patter of footsteps along the hallway carpet as your boyfriend, jisung, paces up and down it. it was a sign he was anxious, and whilst most days you were able to tell what it was about just from a look in his eyes, today he wouldn't give you so much as a glimpse into his worries. if you weren't preoccupied right now, you would've have immediately gone out to soothe him, but your arms were currently rocking your daughter back and forth as the sleepy baby gargles she was making slowly quietened into a tiny snore. once she was settled, you places her gently in her crib, flicking off the nightlight and slowly meeting jisung in the hallway as you close the nursery door. his pacing stops and his gaze drops to the floor and he's stood right in front of you, so you place a soft hand on his shoulder.

“ji? are you ready to talk yet? aera is finally asleep” you speak to him softly, hoping that he'll be able to open up to you now. he'd been in an anxious state all day, barely any words spoken between the both of you, in the short time you'd seen each other since he'd gotten home from work and you'd been busy with aera. he looks up slowly, tears forming at the corner of his eyes and he nods, letting out a sniffle. your heart almost breaks in two seeing him like this.

“come on love, let's go talk.” you softly take his hand, and walk into your own bedroom. he sits on the bed, and you sit beside him, hand still in yours the entire time.

“what's going on ji?” he looks back up at you, tears falling fully now and attempts to start, finding it difficult each time, but he gets there eventually, your eyes never leaving him for a second.

“i feel like im not a good enough dad for aera.” he sighs between sobs. you frown and his tears spill harder.

“oh ji, you're such a good dad for her, i promise. the best even, why do you think you're not?”

“i’m never here, i haven't spent any time with her because i'm always working, when we start touring or have another comeback im going to be here even less and i feel like im just going to be abandoning you both. i leave you to do absolutely everything because i'm terrified of doing it wrong. she adores you, of course she does, you're the only one she sees everyday. im just there sometimes. i don't have time to spend with either of you as much as i want to and i hate it because i don't want to chose between you and my work, because i love it all too much. i don't know what to do y/n. i feel like im being torn in two.” his tears have since stopped but you can still feel his shaky breaths as he speaks quickly. it's hard for you to take it all in, but you get the overall message and your heart breaks for him even more, tears springing to your own eyes.

“jisung. i promise you that you are the most amazing dad that aera, actually scratch that, anyone, could ever ask for. it's okay that you're not here all the time, you're providing for us both and i don't expect you to give up your big dream for the two of us. we're here to support you, always. just think about how many presents you've bought for her that she can't even thank you for yet. you wrote her a song and begged for it to be put on the next album because she's your whole world, how many kids can say their dad did that? you come home to us both every single night, you give her goodnight cuddles and sing her lullaby's. yeah sure, there's a lot that you don't know how to do, but we're only young ji. im still learning as well. we've got time. we're in this together. you're an amazing dad. and you're doing so so well. im so proud of you baby.” tears are now streaming down both of your faces as he holds you close to his chest, stroking your hair softly.

“you really mean that?”

“every single word of it ji. you're doing so good.”

“thank you baby, you are too. im proud of you too. you're the best mom to aera.”

“thank you.” you sigh softly against his chest, basking in the warmth of your bodies being pressed together, you crave these moments more than anything. you sit there for a few moments, calming both of your breathing, and you break the silence after a while.

“she really loves you, you know.” jisung pulls away from the hug and looks at you, his head slightly tilted quizzically.

“hmm?”

“the way she looks at you, she looks like she's looking at the whole universe. you are her whole universe.” you smile at him softly and he looks down shyly.

“i mean it ji, she does. she loves you so much. how could she not. you're you.”

your hand moves up to softly stroke his cheek, pinching it softly making him giggle. one of your favourite noises in the whole world, making warmth flood through your veins and a soft blush appearing on your face.

“you're so cute. i love you.” you whisper, and you give him a soft kiss on the lips, rubbing his cheek with your hand again.

“i love you too.” he replies with a tiny smile.

the two of you decide to go downstairs and make some dinner, even if it was a bit late, you'd both been too occupied to think about eating earlier and the hunger was catching up to you. you offer to cook, giving him the option to watch something on the tv, but he insists on at least sitting in the kitchen with you, but decides to help you anyway by cutting up the veggies for your meal.

halfway into cooking, the baby monitor that was in the kitchen starts to make a few noises; aera was due for a change and she was getting fussy upstairs.

“ji?” you call to your boyfriend, who was currently washing the veggies.

“yeah baby? what do you need?”

“could you keep an eye on this in the pan for me? aera needs changing, she's about to start crying.” you stop what you're doing and go to leave when jisung stops you.

“you keep doing this, you're better at cooking that i am and i'll probably end up ruining it, i'll go change her.”

“are you sure?” you ask, eyebrow raised, half expecting him to be grossed out by the prospect of changing a diaper.

“yeah, i'll be okay. plus you've probably done it about a million times today, it's only fair i take this one.” he smiles at you and waltzes out of the kitchen and quickly upstairs to her nursery before you can stop him.

you finish cooking the meat in the pan within seconds of jisung going upstairs, and move over to continue with the veggies, when you hear jisung speaking softly to aera over the baby monitor, and you secretly thank yourself for buying the ones with the screen, so you could see jisung flick on the nightlight and carefully pick up your daughter and take her to the changing table

“it's okay baby, daddy's here, getting you all cleaned up” he whispers to her softly as she wails rom discomfort. he continues to clean her up extremely carefully, buttoning up her pyjamas again and slowly rocking her in his arms. she's still crying, and he decides to speak to her softly again

"it's okay,, shhh, im here. you're okay. everything is okay. you can sleep now bub." you watch as he softly strokes her head like he'd seen you to soothe her cries, pressing soft kisses to the crown of her head and singing a her lullaby quietly. it's not long until you realise he was singing the song he'd written for her, and her cries had almost completely stopped, once again tiny baby gurgles until there was complete silence, and he was placing her back in the crib carefully.

“goodnight little one, i love you so much. mommy and daddy love you so so much. you and mommy mean absolutely everything to me. she's doing so well with you, isn't she just the best?” he whispers softly as he tiptoes back out of the room, flicking the light off as he leaves. your eyes are filled with tears watching the entire scene and he comes back into the kitchen with a smile on his face

“baby? what are you doing? is the food done?” he asks when he sees you wiping your eyes on your sleeve.

“a-almost. sorry i was watching you put aera down. im so proud of you ji, you did so well.” you smile at him and give him a hug as he walks back over to you.

“do you really think so?” you nod, kissing his cheek softly. “thank you my love.”

“of course ji, i told you she loves you. she doesn't go back to sleep for me that fast. you're the best dad to her.” he smiles again and kisses you on the forehead, before pulling away

“let's continue? im starving.” you giggle as you hear his stomach rumble slightly

“hmm i guess so.” you tease, and you both get back to work

once the food was cooked, you eat in the living room while watching some television, before the tiredness from the eventful day washes over the both of you. you take the plates to the kitchen, about to start cleaning them yourself when your boyfriend stops you.

“i'll do it, you go get ready for bed baby.” he ushers you upstairs

“nooo, i don't wanna be alone.” you playfully whine, and you insist on staying in the kitchen with him this time, just enjoying being in his presence. he allows you to stay, and you wrap your arms around his waist as he gets on with it, and you practically fall asleep with your face smooshed against his back.

he lets out a soft chuckle as he untangles himself from you, picking you up softly and taking you upstairs to your bedroom, where he helps you find and get changed into some pyjamas since you were almost completely asleep at this point, the exhaustion had finally caught up to you. once you're both dressed, he takes you to the bathroom and sits you on the toilet seat, passing you your toothbrush as he does your skincare routine on you, which he'd mastered perfectly from watching you do it almost every single day you'd been together, making it a quick routine so you can both sleep faster. he cleans his own teeth quickly, before taking you both back to your bed, where you cuddle up to each other the minute you're both uncle the covers.

“goodnight ji, i love you.” you mumble sleepily, yawning as you speak, your head resting on his chest.

“goodnight baby, i love you too. sleep well.” he gives you a kiss on the forehead, making you hum sleepily, and almost instantly you're asleep.

jisung lies awake for a while, listing out for aera, so that you wouldn't have to get up to sort her out, but once he's certain everything is okay, he comfortably falls asleep too, thinking about what you'd said.

he was aera’s universe, and the two of you were his.

omg hi hello this is my first time publishing anything on tumblr !! i hope you enjoyed reading this - reblogs & feedback would be greatly appreciated <3

[messycunt]

everyone fawns over hucow!Epel, calling him cute and doting over him... it makes him so mad!! he wants everyone to see him as a big, strong, manly man! he gets all huffy with his handlers and starts nipping when they call him cute. imagine: Crowley assigns him a new handler because the other ones are sick of getting headbutted and nipped. in comes his cute new handler, and they're so perfect! they treat him well without being condescending and he really thinks he's finally gotten the perfect handler! then... he gets called cute again. Epel decides to show them how manly he is and make sure he never gets called cute again.

fun epel facts: there's concept art that was displayed at an exhibition showing epel fully cross dressed, it's p cute actually 

his final design also looks almost exactly the way his grandma did when she was younger

cw: josou seme, afab reader, dubcon(reader kinda lets Epel get away w it even though they're not feeling it tbh), hybrids(hucows), male lactation, doggie style, name calling(stupid mutt, bitch, slut etc), slapping, hair pulling, blackmail,

Having been warned that your assigned cow was extremely difficult to work with, that he had run through almost a dozen handlers and that you'd probably quit in a few days had you high strung on your first meeting.

After meeting him you were confused to say the least. 

Epel was polite, soft spoken, and aloof at times. It seemed to be an intentional attempt at distancing himself from you.

But he opens up to you in due time.

You see him as an equal. Unlike his past handlers you don't patronize him. He loves that.

He tries showing off for your attention often but even if his attempts aren't successful he's still going to try. He wants you to think he's cool!

Maybe the stars just aligned at the right time or Vil just trusts you enough to take care of Epel the same way he would but he's less helicoptermom-y now that you're around, much to Epels delight.

Vil will be Vil but at least he's not forcing his way into almost every facet of Epel's life anymore.

Still, not much else has changed.

It's not that he doesn’t like doing shows, he tells you. It's that they treat him more like a heifer than a bull.

He's forced to wear those stupid frilly outfits for shows, all lacey and tight, just to put on performances for venues full of older men. He hates the way they look at him.

He can't wait until his growth spurt finally kicks in, then he'll finally be taken seriously as a bull.

Milking him is easy.

The machines tickle him on good days and make him a little sore on bad ones. depending on which type of day it is he will be either staring into space blankly or blinking away frustrated tears from overstimulation hoping you don't notice.

His milk has a subtly sweet taste.

Unlike with his past handlers Epel doesn't mind taking baths with you, especially if it means getting to spend more time with you in the main house. 

It means alot to him when it's you. Leaning up against your neck while basically feeling him up while washing him is almost like heaven for the boy, almost. 

He wants more but you must not see how frustrated and wanting it leaves him.

It makes him so angry with you truthfully. He wants you so bad and you wouldn't even consider him in a million years.

"See! I ain't some precious lil' calf that needs protectin' so stop treatin' me like one ya bitch!" Epel shouted from behind you, yanking your head back by the hair he held in his balled up fist. 

Droplets of water falling from his still damp lavender pelt onto your back in time with his thrusts.

His movements are frantic and unskilled. Too worried about clumsily chasing his own pleasure to care about much else.

The cold tile of the bathroom floor was uncomfortable to kneel on to say the least, and the hard marble of the tub pushed up against your chest uncomfortably. 

The constant jostling of your body didn't make it easier to ignore.

But you didn't say as much. Trying your best to keep quiet, you don't say much of anything.

Maybe this was your fault? you had no way of knowing a quick compliment would set him off the wrong way but… maybe you should have?

Maybe letting off some steam would be good for him? the poor boy must be so pent up right? maybe it's best to let him go at it till he tires himself out.

Epel's slender hands moved from gripping your hair to desperately tugging at your hair to gripping at the fat of your hips in an attempt to keep his frantic pace.

"I really did think it would be different this time. But y'er no better. Patronizin' me just like the others" he said between pants.

A harsh slap against your thigh echoed in the bathroom before he went back to pulling at your hips.

His continued attempts at pushing his dick as far into the back of your cunt as physically possible became even more frantic, if that was even possible, he was close.

 "But maybe ya' are different. I never had one of those pretty ladies let me mount them so easy before! Y'er jus' like a stupid mutt in heat."

That comment did earn a defeated whimper in reaction from you

With that Epel's petite body stiffened up and he emptied himself of all he had inside of you. White filling your insides in excess and leaking down onto the bathroom floor to form conjoined puddles. 

You didn't even bother to try sitting up.

Not that you could easily with his wet warm body laid out against your back. You took this time to catch your breath while you had the chance.

His softening cock still lay nestled inside of you

"Don' fall asleep on me" he slurred " You still gotta clean me up okay? It'd be a shame if Crowley and Vil found out that the sweet new girl they trusted so quickly was a good for nothing slut that couldn't control herself around even the smallest bulls wouldn't it?"

Sitting up and pulling back enough to slip himself out of you Epel stretched.

The high pitched whine he let out as he did was cute, not that you'd verbalize that, you learned your lesson.

[onsunnyside]

the cold is finally getting to me methinks bc im longing for king in the north!curtis 😌 big n burly in his bearskin cloak, your scary betrothed!! you're just a princess from far far away and he doesnt have to be nice to you or care about you but you're too sweetly scared to ignore

methinks he tells you that it gets too cold to sleep alone despite u having your own bedroom and clothes would get in the way of heat sharing so you'll have to be naked while you cuddle to sleep 🫣

i've always wanted to write a time period au and this has so much potential and more !!

resources were already scarce in your region and with the harshest winter approaching, your beloved homeland will be the first on the hitlist of bandits or other kingdoms, that is if you even survive the snowfall. and marriage will bring that security and power to your kingdom that your parents have always dreamt of. everyone thought Curtis did it as a favour to your kingdom bc it's so out of character for the king of war and bloodshed to tie himself to someone eternally (much less, someone so sweet and gentle). the King of the North was only ever known as the end, the indefinite death that lurked in every corner.

did you like him? well, how could you like him if he's never spoken to you, apart from the few sentences the day before your wedding and said stone-cold and uncomfortable wedding. oh, and you can't forget his gruff utterances as he passes you in the halls. he was intimidating, to say the least, draped in his bearskin cloak and his blue eyes always set in a steely glare as if he were prepping for war. you wouldn't be surprised if he was, he was known as the ruthless king after all.

You feel his hard gaze searing into your face, yet he's still silent and only quirks a brow. "You're upset." He states blankly, food is forgotten in front of him.

Across the large table, you wipe your nose, the same action that caught his attention in the first place. "N-No."

He clenches his jaw, "You know I hate liars." His deep voice rings through the dining room, the servants had left momentarily as per the king's request. "Come here." You almost say no again, but he raps his knuckles on the wooden table, "Now, princess." You stand from your seat and after a few tentative steps, you find yourself standing between his spread thighs. "I-I miss home." Your voice cracks, "I miss the flowers and the wisteria trees, I miss the pond with the ducks and fish. I-I miss the sky! It was blue—so blue, and there are only clouds over here." You hate to sound so torn, but you're so lonely! You're forced to navigate unknown territory alone, going days without even a conversation with your husband!

now, don't hate curtis. he's a very busy busy man, his kingdom isn't the most feared (respected ??) for nothing and his loyal subjects aren't prospering just because. he's been working nonstop to communicate with your hovering parents, and ofc, spreading the word that the most sought-after princess has been wedded.

you get even more upset when you don't see curtis the next day and the day after that. although your marriage was more of a pitiful agreement, you still expected him to comfort you, or at least to listen to your mindless weeping about the damn sky!

oh... as surprising as it may be for the rest of the world, it turns out Curtis has a heart bc the next time you see him, he's standing by a large door. with an outstretched hand, he brings you close, holding your shocked face between his warm palms and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead (the closest act of intimacy he's shown since your wedding).

"Your homeland plants can't survive here during the time of year, but these can." He gestures to the small garden, peeking out from the neverending snowfall was itty bitty flowers, colourful and vibrant amongst the white. "There would be more, but only so few were found in the forest."

me thinks... when curtis turns total protective husband mode and gives into his desires, he never lets you leave his side. you become his wife in every sense of the word, his other half. if he could, he'd have you on his lap during meetings or as he sits on his throne. don't get me started on the filthy stuff: you're a virgin, and he didn't touch you on your wedding night, apart from a stiff kiss at the altar. he's equally sweet and mean, lots of kissing and touching, but also crude remarks that he whispers in your ear to watch you get all flustered.

also: he persuades you to sleep in his bed naked, it's easy to convince a clueless girl like you. he starts off with some light caressing, then reclines and asks if you want to explore his body instead. one thing leads to another and well... pussyjob with big beefy curtis while he talks about how he can't fit inside you 🫣🫣

[gaia-bb]

werewolf!eren x black reader

↺ warnings: none :) ↺ drabble. this is hella indulgent idc i NEEDED to see more werewolf eren content so i took matters into my own hands >:)

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werewolf!eren who lives inside a cabin, smack in the forest thats right next to your little village, a small, close-knit community that prefers to live in harmony with nature than to conquer it to build concrete skyscrapers

werewolf!eren who is like a great myth to those who in live in your village. every child has heard his tale by the time they reach 5. no one has seem him in years, but the knowledge of his whereabouts looms like a word about to be spoken. he is both revered and feared.

werewolf!eren who doesn't like humans, like at all. he hates living anywhere in close proximity to them, but his home is all he has left of his mother. so he's made a pact with the village leaders: as long as no human crosses into his part of the forest, there won't be a problem

werewolf!eren who, while going out for a hunt one day, sees a human in his part of the forest. cream-colored frills, and lightweight fabric billow over the grass as you walk. smooth, dark arms glow in the sunlight as you bend down to pluck various flowers, placing them into a woven basket on the ground next to you. his ears perk up at the sounds of soft humming drifting in the breeze. he can't help but feel disgust flooding his chest.

werewolf!eren who appears suddenly in his human form - warns this entitled human with a growl. "get out of my forest and get out now". dirt smears on your dress as you scramble suddenly. warm, deep brown eyes flit around his frame hurriedly. you take him in, his rough, ragged appearance, wild brown hair and fierce eyes. werewolf!eren who, when greeted by a pleading, stumbling apology, starts to inspect the young girl more closely in turn. green eyes roam over hair that is neatly tucked away in fluffy rows on your scalp, nimble hands are gripping the woven basket deathly tight, and those eyes. those brown eyes of yours. they hold nothing but awe and regret.

werewolf!eren who is decreasingly miffed at this girl's presence, asks you what you're doing in his forest. a soft, shaky voice reaches his ears, and messy, unorganized explanations about "missing the scent markings" and "needing poppies for a hat i'm weaving" are given.

werewolf!eren, who is now hesitant to be appreciative of your earnest, is caught off guard at the request for his name. no one has asked him anything about himself or cared to see him other than a monster. it doesn't seem right. this encounter is taking too long.

werewolf!eren, who isn't fooled by your tricks, tells you to get out of his sight. if you think that you can sway him with a quiet demeanor and innocent act, then you're not very clever. he's lived a long life and knows all too well about the cunning ways of your kind.

werewolf!eren is once again responded to with an apology, and this time, a promise: that it will never happen again. you bid him goodbye, thank him for sparing you, and rush back along the dirt pathway, taking a quick glance back at him before disappearing between the bushes and branches.

werewolf!eren, can't seem to shake the encounter he had with that girl. days later, he is....looking for you. he still remembers the song he heard when he saw you. he frequents that spot, by the cluster of poppies, near the dirt pathway.

werewolf!eren who, while hunting one day, is engulfed by nostalgia as a new, fresh wave of your scent floods his nose. he runs to the spot where you two first met. he sees a patch of new, neatly planted poppy seeds in the spot you had plucked.

werewolf!eren can't help but smile at the quiet gesture. maybe you had some manners after all.

werewolf!eren who decides that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't mind if that odd stranger wandered back into his part of the forest again. perhaps he had some extra poppies he could give you for your hat.

[cheruluv]

*+ ENHYPEN IMAGINE # 2˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

PARK JONGSEONG

ੈ✩‧₊˚ crush!jay x reader

GENRE ♥︎ angst, unrequited love romance, jay and reader is in 11th grade.

ABOUT ♥︎ you decide to stop liking jay.

💌 > hi! This is my second enhypen imagine. I'm planning to do this from oldest to youngest. And please don't judge my writing... im not good :c so i hope you like this story !

WARNING ◆ this is for entertainment purposes only. Anything portrayed By enhypen does not reflect them in real life.

You remember it ever so briefly. The way he caught your eye the moment you saw him. He was tall, he has glasses and he was soft-spoken. You eventually knew his name.

Park Jay.

Gosh, even his name is handsome.

You would always ask your friend, "do you think I have a chance with him?" Or "Am I pretty enough for him?"

They would all reply with yes. They reassured you all the time.

But you knew it wasn't true.

How could a guy like him every be with me? I'm not even half as pretty as the girls in my section and on his section.

Even with all those painful words, it didn't stop you from hoping. Maybe he was going to like you.

Well, given that all your previous crushes had girlfriends, Jay didn't. This is perfect.

You desperately asked your friends to help you get closer to him, but you have made no progress. The only interaction you both would have was just exchanging 'hi's' or 'good morning's'.

It's okay. As long he doesn't grow a crush on anyone, it's okay.

You were painfully obvious that you liked him. Maybe that's why Jay doesn't approach you like he does to other people. He was always more... composed when it comes to you.

Maybe he's weirded out by me? I mean, he's seen me grow red every time I see him.

But no, that would mean he would try to avoid me. But he doesn't. He greets me. There's no way he could hate me right?

Maybe it's how I look. I know I'm ugly but—

"(name!)" Your friend screams. "What are you thinking about again?"

"I–"

"There's 5 minutes left 'till the next period, let's go." Your friend grabs and pulls your arm, but you resist.

"Wait! I have to wait until Jay leaves too," you say to her, your neck stretched out to view him.

"God, you and your infatuation with Jay...." your friend lets out a long sigh. "You're seriously choosing him over getting to class in time?"

"Oh! They're leaving!" You hurriedly fixed your things. You stacked your notebooks and pocketed your ballpens. "Let's go!"

"Oh my gosh." Your friend lets out, annoyed.

You both gathered your things and headed to class. In the hallway though, you heard a bunch of girls from Jay's section talking about something.

Something that you feared might happen.

"Bummer, Jay likes a girl from the 12th grade."

"Omg, Really? He's into older girls? Wow."

"I know right. Can't blame him though, the girls pretty as hell!!"

"Did you hear who was it?"

"Kim Ye-jin? I think? I'm not really sure what her name was haha."

"But don't you think they would look cute? I mean Jay is an incredibly handsome guy. I think it's possible they could end up together."

Your heart dropped at their conversation. Your friend heard it too and placed her arms around in attempt to somehow comfort you.

You turned pale and was silent all the way to class.

"Hey. (Name), don't think about it that much, okay?" Your friend tells you, rubbing your back gently.

You nod slowly, staring at your table.

What if it's true? What if...

"Good morning class!"

Classes are over, and your section was the first one to be dismissed. You're currently waiting for your other friend who are in the other section before you commute and go home.

Not long after, a bunch of students emerge from the school entrance, making their way to the waiting area.

"(Name)!!" Your friend greets you.

"Soo-ya!" You hug her, and she does the same.

"Are you going to go home now?" You ask her. She shakes her head.

"I'm waiting for my sister. She's letting me join her friend's party. Apparently her 'friend' is popular." Soo-ya sighs.

"Wow~ Who's her friend?" You ask curiously.

"I think it's Ye-jin?" She shrugs, "My sister never told me."

Oh? Oh.

"Oh her." You huff. Your face suddenly frowning.

"Yeah, her. What's up with Ye-jin?" Soo-ya asks cautiously. "Wait, did she do something to you?"

"Oh- Uh- no she didn't do anything... I didn't it mean it that way." You sigh, "don't pay mind to what I said." You shake your head. You didn't expect that to come out of your mouth.

"Ooooookkkk...." she says suspiciously.

After walking home with a heavy feeling, you decided to immediately flop down on your bed. You mother questions your new behavior and you brushed her off, telling her you 'weren't feeling it' today.

You opened your phone to do what-not, then suddenly a 'ping' sound was made. You opened it, and your friend, jake posted a story in instagram.

What?

'THAT WAS AWESOME @pjs_jay' with a blushing jay in the picture.

Curiosity gets the better of you, so.. you asked jake what the story meant.

Okay. So its true then. You thought it may just be rumors. Your heart shattered at the message.

You're lucky this is by text. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to hide your sadness.

Maybe... it's time to let him go.