#i kept trying to draw but that's going so fucking shitty

[iqmmir]

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[vvelegrin]

man it just feels kind of... i don't know. mean that with everything lately we're adding mystery joint pain, most persistently in my hands, to the pile.

like come on. come on. i can't even have this?!

[slytherinslut0]

teasing. | syltherin boy headcanons

author’s note: based on a request i received. i am feral.

- your boyfriends reaction to you teasing him under the table at dinner.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco had been in a proper fowl mood all day, and you could tell he was stressed, a clear mixture of a million different things floating through his mind.

You were literally counting down the seconds until you could finally be alone with him, but dinner was fucking dragging.

Sitting next to him, you couldn’t help but to sneak continual glances at him, noting his silver eyes darkened to a deep shade of grey, the tension in his jaw practically palpable as he stared at his plate like he could hex it into another dimension.

Just looking at him made your breath quicken, made your pulse soar.

Of course, part of you empathized with his shitty day, but the other part of you wanted to get on your knees for him right then and there--

because, undeniably so, he’s at his fucking sexiest when he’s pissed.

As Pansy’s chipper voice filled the air, yammering away to a blissfully blazed Zabini, both of them seated across from you and your boyfriend, an idea sparked in your mind.

Without hesitation, you scooted closer to him, subtly enough to not draw any attention to yourself, but enough for Draco to shoot you a side-eyed glance, eyebrow raised.

Feeling his eyes on you, you kept your gaze on your plate as you brushed your hand against his thigh, testing his reaction.

You could practically hear him swallow, could practically feel his body tense, and you’d try not to smirk.

Thrilled, you’d inch your fingers further, tracing small patterns along the middle of his thigh before trailing upwards.

He’d shift on the bench, the veins in his hands tensing as he tightened his grip on his fork.

His reactions would fuel your fire, and you’d keep going, grazing over his crotch, and he’d groan, stifling it with a cough instantly, and that’s when he’d had enough.

Shifting his hand, he’d grasp your thigh, now--with an intensity in his grip so strong you’d almost squeal. A silent warning.

He’d lean in, his voice darker than the midnight sky as he’d whisper, “you’re lucky I have some dignity…but keep it up and I’ll bend you over this fucking table right now, in front of everyone.”

your grin would be unmissable, and you’d only make it another few minutes before he dragged you away from the table and back to his dorm.

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise was literally just eating. And that’s all it took.

That’s all it took for you to want him, to damn-near need him, right then and there.

He’d been flirty with you all morning, making you swoon over his every word with his typical Zabini charm, as though he was still trying to win you over.

You found yourself giggling like a goddamn first year more times than you could even begin to count while he was around, and it drove you crazy, in the best way.

You couldn’t help it, you just always wanted to be near him, kissing him, touching him. He just made you feel that needy. Effortlessly.

And that feeling carried over throughout the entirety of your day, and didn’t falter at dinner. Oh, not even in the slightest.

If anything, it intensified.

Just watching him, in his own little world, focused on his food, casually chiming into the conversation every now and then between bites--it just did something to you. Something you couldn’t explain.

The way the veins in his hands tensed with each movement, the confident aura that surrounded him, regardless of what he was doing, was just fucking intoxicating.

And so, while caught in a moment of both mental and sexual tension, you discreetly placed your hand on his thigh while continuing to eat, feigning innocence as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Blaise looked over, immediately, and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips.

But then, with his typical Zabini composure, he’d go back to eating, letting you keep your hand there.

As you dared to inch higher, he’d seamlessly continue conversing with his friends, as if entirely unaffected by your advances.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and to anyone else, it’d seem as though nothing out of the ordinary was transpiring.

At this point, you’d be completely convinced that you were enjoying this more than he was.

But then, as you’d get close to his crotch, dangerously close, he’d lean in, his voice so deep it’d send chills down your spine.

“You better stop.”

You’d grin, slowly moving higher, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Or what?”

“You just wait until I get you alone, babygirl…” he’d smirk, wetting his lips. “I’ll get you back real fucking good.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Lorenzo bloody Berkshire; your absolutely sexy, tease of a boyfriend.

Earlier, you had been paired together for an assignment in class, which had turned out to be the most infuriating part of your day.

Enzo was relentless in his teasing; partially because he couldn’t keep his fucking hands off of you, but also because he just loved getting a rise out of you.

All class he’d stared at you with those big brown eyes, biting on his fucking lip as he smirked at you, pressing his crotch against your ass as the two of you gathered supplies for the assignment, acting like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

By dinner, your head was spinning, your nerves were shot, and you were more than determined to get him back.

And you’d do just that; finding your perfect opportunity while he was casually eating, not really paying you much attention.

You’d shift closer to him, resting your chin on your palm as you fixed your gaze on him, smirking a devilish smirk.

“So, Enz, what do you think of the new charms professor?”

You’d inquire, your voice like honey as it slipped past your lips, your fingers brushing against his leg in unison.

As soon as your hand connected with his thigh, he’d freeze, not daring to look at you, but stalling his movements completely, staring down at his plate as though it’d just grown two legs and spoke to him.

You’d grin, pulling your lip between your teeth in an attempt to hide it, watching him as he’d slowly resume his chewing, his breath coming in shallower bursts as you inched higher, excruciatingly slow.

“I-uh…he’s, he’s good-“ he’d stammer, his voice cracking, clearing his throat to mask it. “Thorough.”

“Oh, thorough, huh?” You’d tease, grin widening. “Why don’t you elaborate on that?”

His jaw would tense, his lids fluttering shut for the briefest moment as you grazed his crotch, adding pressure as to really get back at him, to really give him a taste of his own damn medicine.

He’d be flustered, undoubtedly, but he wouldn’t dare stop you, playing it off until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Then he’d lean in, softly setting his fork down as to not arouse any suspicion.

“My dorm, right now.” He’d practically beg. “I fucking need you.”

Mattheo Riddle.

Teasing Mattheo was not something you did, ever.

Because ‘teasing’, with Mattheo Riddle, was not a concept. It simply did not fucking exist.

You’d attempted it a few times, over your months of dating, and each time you’d found yourself either bent over a table, on your knees for him in a way-too-public location, or edged until you fucking cried/begged for release.

Mattheo never failed to let you know that he’d take you whenever and wherever the fuck he pleased.

‘Don’t poke the dragon’ or ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ ; were very much literal phrases when it came to your boyfriend.

and so you made sure not to tempt him, unless absolutely fucking necessary--However, today, it was more than absolutely fucking necessary.

And why was that, you might ask? Two reasons.

First one being that you’d slept in his dorm last night and woke up late late for class; all thanks to him.

Even though you’d made sure to remind him ten bloody times to set the alarm, he’d somehow still managed to ‘forget’.

And the second one was because he just looked so goddamn fucking sexy, and you were displeased with the fact that you didn’t have time for morning sex.

Regardless, as he was picking at his dinner, looking unbelievably exhausted, you took your chances.

You leaned closer to him discreetly, casually placing your hand on his thigh. He’d instantly tense, legs spreading wider almost involuntarily, grip tightening on his fork.

You’d inch higher, excruciatingly slow, nodding to Blaise as he said something to you, causally entertaining the conversation.

Mattheo’s jaw would tighten, so much it’d genuinely look painful, his head bowing toward the table as you slowly moved upwards.

But then, he’d grow tired of your teasing and grab your wrist, hastily moving it to his dick as he huffed, dropping his fork and running his now-free hand through his hair.

You’d be fuelled on, leaning toward his ear to whisper; “I need you so fucking bad, Matty…”

He’d snuff a groan, his nails digging into your wrist as he continued guiding your hand, guiding you in palming him through his trousers.

“You’re going to regret this, princess…” he’d mutter, his voice torn and laced with promise. “Can’t keep your fucking hands off of me, can you?”

You’d increased your movements, feeling him grow unbelievably hard beneath your fingers, and you’d know he wasn’t bluffing.

“I should bend you over right here, show the boys just what a desperate little slut you are for me….”

You’d smirk, snuffing your giggling, and that would be the last straw. He’d drag you up from the table and fuck you in the nearest closet/empty classroom.

Theodore Nott.

You were fucking bored.

So unbelievably bored that you weren’t sure how much more of it you’d be able to take.

The conversations at the table were about nothing of particular significance, and if you had to endure another second of Enzo’s mindless babbling you were certainly going to be sick.

Theo was seated beside you, aimlessly picking at his food, also looking incredibly bored.

It was not unnoticeable that the two of you were about ready to fall asleep on the damn spot.

In a moment of desperation, you turned to your boyfriend, attempting to spark up a conversation.

“So, what are we planning on doing this weekend?”

As Theo looked up, you’d instantly grow warm, his stormy blue eyes swirling with admiration as he glimpsed your lips, his once flat features beginning to soften.

“Can’t speak for you Bella, but know what I have on the to-do list,” he’d murmur, leaning in for a kiss.

Theo was never one to shy away from PDA.

As your lips met in a quick, soft kiss, you’d smile as he slowly pulled back. “Oh, yeah? And what might that be?”

That’s when you’d put your hand on his thigh, slowly trailing it upwards, instantly causing his eyes to darken, his jaw to tighten.

He’d spread his legs wider, inviting you to keep going, and you’d gladly oblige, palming him eagerly as the two of you held eye-contact intense enough to make you dizzy.

he’d smirk, sucking in shallow breaths as he leaned in for another kiss, muttering against your lips;

“You…you, and you again…”

Someone at the table would playfully groan in disgust and tell you two to get a room, and you’d just laugh before Theo agreed and dragged you back to his dorm.

Tom Riddle.

If you had to listen to one more second of Tom Riddle talking about school related topics, you were going to find the nearest bridge and jump. zero hesitation.

You absolutely loved your boyfriend, loved him to fucking death,

but after he’d spent all afternoon drilling transfiguration concepts into your brain, you honestly just wished he’d drill something else into you, instead.

And by the time dinner rolled around, your brain was mashed potatoes, yet Tom remained completely fucking relentless.

In between bites of food he’d ask you to recite the animagus transformation theory, and when you’d undoubtedly get it wrong, he’d sigh, grabbing the book and reading it back to you.

But no matter how many times he’d repeat it, it didn’t fucking matter, your mind was gone, completely elsewhere.

To be more specific, your mind was lost in a sea of your thoughts, thoughts about Tom’s big strong hands gripping your hips, his strong frame towering over you as he-

Gods, this was complete fucking torture, and you needed it to stop, right now.

Loosening your tie around your neck, you glimpsed him, watching his dark eyes scan the page, watching his long fingers as he pointed at what he was reading to you,

As you undid a few of the buttons on your blouse, your hand fell gracefully, landing on his thigh for support as you leaned over him, looking down at the book,

“Can you repeat that part for me again, Tom?…” you’d murmur, voice a slow drawl, failing to hide your smirk as your felt him tense. “Silly me…I don’t think I heard you correctly…”

Tom would know exactly what you were doing, and at first he’d try to play it off, clearing his throat as he tried to decipher where the fuck he’d left off.

But then, as you continued to inch higher, grazing his crotch, he’d groan, slamming the book shut.

“For Merlin’s sake, you’re a needy little slut, aren’t you?” He’d hiss, the annoyance in his tone mingling with amusement.

“Let’s go before I bend you over the fucking table.”

[eiightysixbaby]

older! eddie finally having enough of reader calling him old man and he decides to show her how much of an old man he really is😏😏😏

“old man yeah?” he says grinning ear to ear when you whine pathetically underneath him, “wanna say that again?” he coos

18+ only pleaaaase!

The ball rolls down the lane, heavy and awkward, knocking into the pins and only sending a couple falling.

“That was possibly the worst throw of the night, Munson!” Robin says, smiling proudly when Eddie glares at her.

He groans, swiveling his arm to stretch out his shoulder.

“Not fair, this shit used to be easy. ‘S fuckin’ killing my shoulder tonight,” he comments, picking up his bottle of beer and clinking it with the top of Steve’s in a sort of pity toast to his bad turn.

“Oh, come on, old man!” you tease, standing to take your turn. You pick up your bowling ball from the bunch, giving Eddie a devious glance. “Let me show you how it’s done, sans any shoulder pain or back pain or pain in any other body part,” you smirk, earning a laugh from Steve.

“Ouch,” he says. “She’s got you there, Ed. Shoulder pain, really? When we’re not even halfway through this game.”

“Oh fuck off, Harrington. Wasn’t it two nights ago I saw you buying Epsom salts complaining about sore muscles? From a day at the pool with your kids?”

“Listen, the amount of times I had to pick them up and toss them into the water—”

You giggle, letting the two of them bicker as you take your turn. You let the ball go in a more elegant manner than Eddie, standing at the end of the lane as you wait to see the outcome. Sure enough, all ten pins fall with a scattered crash, and you bounce up and down eagerly.

“Woo!” Robin and Steve cheer, Eddie rolling his eyes as you high-five them.

“Alright, sweetheart, so you think you’re the superior bowler?” he asks, pulling you against him.

“I know I am, old man,” you draw out the last two words, pressing a polished finger to his chest. “Unless you really think you can show me up. But I wouldn’t want you hurting that shoulder while you try,” you pout, seeing the way the look in his eyes changes at your teasing. “Can’t have you doing too much… physical activity.”

“Alright, so that’s how you want to be, hm?” he asks, his voice low. “Just wait ‘til we get home, darling.”

The comment makes you shiver, his figure slipping away from you as soon as the words are out of his mouth. You watch him leave to get another drink, your mouth slightly agape as film reels run through your head, showcasing the activities that probably await you when you return home. Chewing on your lip, you return to your seat next to Robin, knowing full well you’re going to get under Eddie’s skin as much as you possibly can before the night is over.

Stumbling through the door just before midnight, a couple shitty bowling-alley-bar mixed drinks in your system, Eddie’s got his finger hooked in the waistband of your too-tight jeans, pulling you into him.

“That was real fucking cute, the way you kept mocking me all night,” he rasps, his warm breath fanning your ear, his lips barely grazing the shell of it. “If I had to hear you call me an old man one more time, I swear I was going to put you in the car and fuck you right there in the parking lot,” he says, kissing at your jaw.

You whine a little, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access.

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“Ed—” you pant, trying to paw at the buckle on his jeans.

“It is, god of course it’s what you wanted. I know your angles, baby,” he purrs, his voice dripping with lust.

He presses a hot kiss to your mouth, his tongue licking against your teeth. Your hands climb up his back, clawing at the fabric of his shirt as if your plan is to rip it off of him. He picks you up, carrying you down the hallway without breaking the kiss. He’s tossing you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off, exposing his modest muscles from years of hard work at the shop. You never tire of looking at the tattoos that decorate his pale skin, the ink fading with time.

He’s undoing his belt while you’re stripping bare on his bed, feeling your face heat when you catch him staring at your tits.

“Damn, I’m going to fuck the absolute shit out of you tonight,” he breathes, smiling boyishly, betraying his age despite the soft wrinkles in his face.

“Are you?” you ask, one final taunt, pushing him over the edge.

“Oh, sweetheart. G’na have you crying for me,” he says, moving to hover on top of you on the bed. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.

It’s quick and without warning when he slips two fingers inside of you, making you mewl as your hands tangle in his hair. He curls them expertly, he knows your body like the back of his hand by now, knows exactly what to do to have you screaming for him.

His eager mouth licks and sucks on your breasts, tugging your nipples gently with his teeth as your back arches. Your body accepts a third finger from him easily, sucking him right in as wet, filthy noises fill the bedroom.

“Eddie,” you whine, already on the edge of your orgasm. Your breathing is heavy, eyes pinched shut beneath him as he works you to your breaking point.

You cum around his fingers with a cry, body shaking violently as he works you through it. You feel like you’re on fire, his touch igniting every inch of you. All you want is more.

“Old man, huh?” Eddie muses as you come down from your first high of the evening. “Looks like this old man still knows how to please. So do you wanna call me that again, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, knowing you’re already in for quite the night.

“Good,” he says, dipping down to kiss your lips, your jaw, your neck. “Cause we’re just getting started.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

omg can we get some overprotective Logan PLEASE

in which logan gets into it with some guy for flirting with you, mutant!reader

it wasn't often that the team got days off. charles always had some set of trainings for them to complete.

it was fun most of the time, but a day off every now and then was needed and tonight was the night.

you were out with logan, scott, ororo and peter. you'd become sort of like a core group and did almost everything with each other.

you were at a bar, some hole-in-the-wall place that didn't attract much attention.

you however, if your boyfriend was anyone to listen to, were drawing a lot of eyes to you.

you weren't in anything special, just a pair of shorts and one of logan's shirt that you had tied to cinch at the waist.

you and ororo were laughing at a guy who kept coming up to peter to challenge him to arm wrestling. it's happened three times now and he's lost all.

"do you think he'll give up?" you ask her, watching as peter pins the man's hand to the table a fourth time.

"maybe not, they'll keep going till peter either lets him win or breaks his arm."

logan and scott are bringing the drinks back when the man turns to you and ororo with a scowl.

"what the fuck are you two laughing at?"

you scowl, "the fact that you've lost four times in a row." you say, eyes narrowing at the man who's standing now.

"listen bitch," he crowds your space on the table and before you can push him away from you, logan has him by the collar of his shirt.

"wanna try that again, bub?" he asks the man, anger boiling through him. you're surprised his claws haven't come out yet.

"oh what? the little bitch can't fight her own battles?" the man asks and you and ororo shake your heads.

the fight is quick, logan doesn't need much help disabling the man and having him cradling his now dislocated shoulder.

he takes his seat beside you like nothing's happened but you're sure the owner will be out soon to tell you to leave.

"you don't always have to beat them up, y'know." you say as you stroke his healing knuckles.

"what do you mean by why i got into a fight with them?" logan frowns, his other hand cupping your cheek so you're looking at him. "he's lucky he only got a dislocated shoulder."

ororo shakes her head, pointing to the owner who's coming out. "we'd better get going."

you tap the table twice, little sparks falling from your touch before moving to the people in the bar.

"i'd have broken more than his shoulder," logan whispers to you and you giggle when his hand brushes between the wings kept hidden on your back. "he's just lucky you look pretty tonight."

you two don't make it back to the institute with the rest of your friends. logan rents a room at a shitty hotel but it's the best way to end your night.

[thewulf]

Who Did This To You? || Rafe Cameron

Summary: Request - Rafe fic based on song wait in the truck by Hardy. Basically he sees her one night that he’s going for a drive to calm down picks her up and drives to the house of maybe her dad or boyfriend and shoots them... Read Rest Here

A/N: Wrote this quick but had so much fun omg love a protective Rafe!! Thank you so much for the request @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe’s truck raced down the winding street on the Pogue’s side of the island. He stopped at Barry’s needing to pick up another supply for the party he’d planned to be at that weekend.

What he wasn’t expecting to see was you stumbling along the side of the road completely disorientated and disheveled beyond repair. He parked his truck close to your trembling body that kept trying to walk but seemed to betray itself.

“Y/N?” He called seeing you off in your own head. He shivered seeing the amount of blood that coated the front of your body once you turned responding to your name. He didn’t see that. You were fucked up. Beaten up by somebody who clearly wanted to hurt you. But who could have wanted to do that to you? You might have been a Pogue, a Maybank even, but damn he’d be lying if he didn’t say you weren’t a big ass ray of sunshine. Despite every shitty circumstance thrown at you, you handled everything so well.

“Who did this to you?” Rafe asked brushing your shoulder careful not to touch anywhere you may be bleeding from. There was so much fucking blood. It made his own damn head queasy, and Rafe was used to blood. He wasn’t sure how you were even standing. The metallic smell of the drying liquid brought him back to the urgency of the situation, “Maybank,” He raised his voice a bit but cursing to himself when he say you shy away, “Hey, Y/N. Who did this to you baby?” He asked once more trying to help. But the alarm in your eyes told him he’d fucked up somehow. Was he standing too close? Did he touch you where you might’ve been hurting from?

You shook your head trying to get away from his grasp. This wasn’t the Rafe Cameron who ragged on you day in and day out. He’d never, ever call you baby. No, you were hallucinating. Just had to keep going, JB’s cottage wasn’t too far now. You tried your hardest but whatever it was you were dreaming was stopping you from moving.

“Y/N?” He asked pulling you back towards his truck. He didn’t want to hurt you, but you clearly weren’t in the state to be wandering down a dark ass road with what looked like half the blood in your body coating every inch of exposed skin and drenching the clothing you had on.

“Please.” You whined trying to pull your hand away from his gentle embrace, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have any more damn energy to try and fight him off.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He brushed the hair that was clinging to the dried blood on your cheek away drawing a soft groan from your lips, “I’m so sorry pretty.” What you thought was the hallucination whispered at you, “Why don’t you sit down in the truck Y/N?” He asked you. Worry laced his eyes seeing a blown-out pupil in one of your eyes as he finally made eye contact with you. He knew you were in rough shape. A blown-out eye was never a good sign.

“I can’t. Have to get…” You coughed feeling the adrenaline wearing down and the full effects of the beat down from your father start to set in. He’d hit you before, yes. But never had you experienced the full wrath of your drunk and likely stoned dad. It was a damn miracle you were even alive right now. Had you now been able to get a kick to his chest knocking him off balance you weren’t sure if you’d be breathing right now.

Gingerly, Rafe placed his hands on either side of your head trying to get you to focus on him, “I’ll take you, okay? Just, sit down. Please baby? You’re hurt. Really fucking bad Maybank. I need you to sit in my truck.” He said with a little more authority trying to get you to acknowledge him. Sure, he’d never been exactly kind to you but seeing you like this? Broken and shattered? That enraged Rafe.

You weren’t each other’s biggest fans, but he still grew up with you. He watched out for you at parties. He knew what his friends said about the younger Maybank. He also knew you had your brother and his friends protecting you. He was never worried about you. So, seeing you looking like you’d just escaped a crime scene on the side of the road at ten o’clock at night sent alarm bells ringing through Rafe’s head.

You nodded into his hand, “Okay.” You croaked out noting how damn bad it hurt to speak.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” He asked softy, only more concern and worry lacing his eyes as you listened to him.

You nodded not having it in you to answer him.

That’s all he needed to scoop you right up as quickly but gently as he could muster. It made him sick seeing you so broken in his arms. He’d always thought you were beautiful. Everybody on the damn island thought you were. What set you apart from the others was your kindness though. No matter how nasty he and his friends were to you and yours you always greeted him with a smile and sometimes even a wave. No matter what. No matter what nasty comment he threw your way. You always handled him and his stupid ass friends with grace. Something your older brother lacked greatly. What he lacked in your made up for greatly and vice versa.

Rafe set you down as softly as he could in the passenger’s seat of his truck, his father’s truck. Not really giving a damn about the blood that would surely be staining the seat below you. Never in his wildest imagination would he thought this would be the reason he’d be hiding the truck from his father until he could get it detailed. He always thought he’d wreck it, or it’d be his blood coating the seats beneath him. Never would he have guessed it could be you in this scenario. He’d always had a soft spot for you. Always picking on you a little less and a somewhat more lightly than he did any other pogue.

“Can you stay awake there for me Maybank?” He asked reaching over you to buckle you in. When you didn’t make a sound he panicked leaning back to look at you, “Y/N?”

“I’m trying.” You sighed closing your eyes while leaning your head back. God, you felt like absolute death. How in the hell did John B and JJ get into this shit so often? It was downright painful. Boys were mad you’d concluded quickly.

“Thank you baby.” He buckled you in making sure to pull it the seat belt tight knowing you weren’t really in the state to hold yourself up, “I’m going to take you back to my place okay? Get you cleaned up. Then, we can find your brother when you’re feeling up to it?”

You couldn’t stop the tears that slipped from your eyes. It was too much. All too fucking much. It felt like Rafe was killing you with kindness. He wasn’t acting like the guy you thought you knew. You thought he was an absolute dickhead with literally no redeeming qualities. But this? This had you reeling. Rethinking everything that you thought you knew. He was being so sweet. So kind and gentle. So loving.

“Hey, hey. Y/N? Are you okay?” Another round of panic flashed through his eyes seeing your tears roll down your face now. So softly, so unlike anything you thought you knew, he brushed those tears away with the pads of his fingertips.

You let out a shaky breath nodding your head, “I’m okay.” Finally, you opened your eyes to look him over. He looked, rough. To say the least. Panic had thrown his appearance out of whack. It was hard to see with one eye being nearly busted but he didn’t look like the confident Rafe who never seemed to break.

He gave you a long look over, almost unsure with your answer. You clearly weren’t okay. But you were alive. You were tough. You were Y/N. The beauty of the island. The girl who seemed to brighten anybody’s day without even realizing it. A gem among mounds of coal. A fucking Maybank of all people.

He gave you a curt nod before shutting the door. Not a moment later he jumped in the driver’s seat, “You can stay in my room tonight. Dad and Rose are on the mainland working a deal. Sarah is with John B for the night. Wheezy is sleeping over at a friend’s. The house is mine, ours.” He spoke while starting the engine. Looking over to make sure that was fine with you.

“Sounds good Rafe.” You spoke softly, finding it easier than speaking at a normal volume.

He had to ask again. Looking you over as he drove back towards his house it was a damn miracle he’d found you. He wasn’t even supposed to be on that road, but he stopped by Barry’s on a whim. Low and behold he fond you. Broken and barely moving.

“Who did this to you, Y/N?” He asked with a little more authority in his voice. The anger rose as he heard you wheezing, seemingly trying to gasp for air. Likely a broken rib making it hard for you to breath in.

“I don’t…” You tried but he quickly spoke over you.

“Yes you do Y/N. Who did this to you baby? Please tell me. Please” His tone of voice turned to one of pleading. You looked over at him seeing his broken look studying the road ahead of him, careful not to put you in more danger than you already were in.

You let out a broken sigh. Why were you trying to protect the scum bag anyway? You were tired. So, fucking tired of hiding from him. Screaming at him when he was wailing on JJ. Screaming at him when he was punching you. This wasn’t a life you wanted. Wasn’t one you could stand much longer.

“My dad. My dad did this.” You clenched your hands together to stop the shaking.

Rafe looked at you incredulously, almost as if he didn’t believe you, “Your dad?”

You nodded silently closing your eyes once more. Afraid to see what judgment might form in his look.

“Is your dad still at home Y/N?” He asked a lot more seriously than he had been moments before.

“Yeah I think so.” You spoke quietly. You felt the truck slow and change directions, “Where are we going Rafe? I thought you said we were going back to yours?”

He hummed, “We are. Just making a stop at your place first.”

You shook your head, “No, Rafe. Don’t. He’s not worth it.” You knew him stopping could only mean trouble.

He kept driving knowing you weren’t in the state to put up even a little bit of a fight, “Look at you Y/N. I’m just paying old man Maybank a quick visit.” He cooed seeing how distraught you were right next to him. A gentle hand laid to rest on your thigh. He rubbed his thumb in circles trying to soothe you just a little, “You just wait in the truck baby, okay?” He asked not giving you much of an option.

More tears spilled, “Please be careful Rafe.” You felt an internal sense of dread as his truck rolled up on the gravel sidewalk in front of the piece of shit trailer you, JJ and your dad lived in. You should be grateful, or so your dad always fucking told you.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be right back. Then we’ll get you cleaned up, yeah?” He leaned over placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Surely, you were in some sick dream. Who in the hell was this man? He was so gentle, so soft with you.

“Hurry.” You whined feeling your body losing to the grapple of consciousness. Rafe must’ve sensed your fading into blackness as he nodded before hopping out of the truck. You didn’t miss him grabbing the gun under the front seat. You gulped as you heard him beating on the front door calling out for your surely passed out father. He wouldn’t be very happy when he came to. But you didn’t hear the rest. You succumbed to the darkness letting the hold of darkness take control for the first time in a while.

“There you are.” Rafe’s voice made you turn your head toward him. You felt him grab at your hand giving it the most delicate squeeze. Acting as if your hand was made of the finest porcelain.

“Rafe.” You sighed, “What happened?”

He gulped turning away from you, “I’ll uh… I’ll let your brother explain that.” He gave you a soft laugh, “Let’s just focus on you right now, how are you feeling baby?”

“Baby huh?” You finally commented on his newly used pet name on you. You were usually ‘Muddy Maybank’ or the ‘Pogue Pleaser’ as he so kindly called you.

Rafe smirked knowing this meant you had to at least feel a little bit better if you were commenting on it, “Sure. Suits you.” He nodded his head brushing the hair out of your eyesight knowing you were probably far too sore to be moving so soon.

You quirked an eyebrow in surprise. Maybe you looked really fucking bad because this wasn’t the Rafe you’d known for the last fifteen years, “Does it?”

He nodded giving your hand another soft squeeze, “If you want.” He left it up to you.

You thought for a moment. You weren’t blind. He was bloody fucking gorgeous the man was. Tall but not stalky. Built but not too muscular. Fine as hell. Dapper as could be. Style beyond recognition. Class further than you could ever imagine. But… he had that mouth that put you down so often. Put your brother and friends down too. You’d sworn him and his type off completely long ago. But why, for the love of God, did it make you feel the tiniest amount of giddiness when that word came off his tongue?

“Maybe I do.” You admitted.

His smirk only grew to a smile as he heard you, “Yeah?” he scooted the chair closer to his bed that you were lying in. You looked yourself over impressed at how well he’d managed to clean you up while you were unconscious.

You nodded giving him a soft smile, “I like the sound of it.”

He hummed using his free hand to run his thumb along your unbruised cheek bone, “Then it’s settled. I’ll call you baby so long as you let me.”

You grinned feeling that dull flutter turn to more rapid nerves in your stomach as you let yourself fall more and more into the man sitting so closely next to you, “Rafe?” You asked feeling the exhaustion come over you once more.

“Yeah?” He answered you with a small amount of concern seeing your eyes flutter closed once more. Had he missed something? Were you still feeling bad? Were you bleeding internally?

“Will you sleep with me? I’m tired.” Your soft voice broke him from his own train of thoughts.

He looked you over seeing the delicate state you were in. But that sweet begging look on your eyes when you looked at him had him agreeing with you too quickly, “Anything you need baby.”

He climbed into the bed next to you. Softly he grabbed at your waist pulling you as gently as he could towards himself letting you adjust to him as best as you could, “Thank you.” You whispered letting yourself nuzzle into his chest falling asleep before he could even respond.

“You have no idea, sweet girl.” He knew you were asleep, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and giving you a soft kiss on your forehead. He didn’t miss the sweet smile that came to your face as you slept in his arms. Rafe could certainly get used to this.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

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Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

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It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

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Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

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Pt. 3: Link

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Can you do a fic with a really innocent reader who is shy and nervous about receiving oral sex for the first time. But eventually Axl gets her to see that he just wants to help her relax and make her feel good. And he’s super sweet, gentle, tender, and caring towards her and praises her during her first time because he knows how nervous she is and he just wants to treat her the best he can.

A/n: Ik I've been posting a lot the past few days but I have not been writing anything and just posting drafts so I'm trying to write more bc I'm running out of finished drafts and I have so many asks :')

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), praise, cum eating, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Axl was your first for everything. You’d been dating since high school and you moved out to L.A. with him when he asked on a whim.

Up until now you hadn’t done a lot of things, sexually speaking. You’d given him a blow job, jerked him off. You’d rubbed against each other but nothing much more than that, though he desperately wanted to see what face you made when you came.

You’d been having a shitty week, getting yelled at, ignored, pushed to the side and walked over and at the end of the day you’d come home and tell Axl all about your day. Then, like clockwork, Axl would offer to relieve you of your stress.

It was Friday and you finally had a day off, you just had to make it through one more day of work. That’s what you kept telling yourself over and over again.

Everything was going fine until Axl called. You picked up the phone and listened to him complain about stuff with Guns, then your boss walked past and snatched the phone from you, slamming it back into its place and hanging up on Axl before going on a rant about how ‘useless’ you’d been.

You left soon after, earlier than you were supposed to.

You just crawled into bed and stayed there, unmoving for hours.

Axl can home and called out for you, eventually finding you in the bedroom. He had a bag in one hand filled with snacks.

“Hey sweetheart, another bad day?” He asked, making his way over to you and sitting next to you on the bed. You nodded and reached for the bag but he pulled it away from you. “No candy unless you let me help you.”

“But-“

“What do you have to lose at this point?” He asked, setting the bag down on the floor. You thought about it for a moment before slowly pulling your work pants down. “Good girl.” You smiled at the pet name and let him do the rest.

You sat back against the bed frame, Axl got comfortable between your legs after having taken off your panties. “Just try to take your mind off work.”

You groaned. “But I want to complain.” Axl laughed, his hot breath fanning over your cunt.

“Then you can complain afterwards, right now let me take care of you.” You nodded, a soft gasp leaving you when his tongue slid through your already glistening folds.

His tongue dipped into you, flicking sensitive nerves. His nose, fuck, you couldn't count how many times it bumped your clit, you couldn't tell if he was trying to or not but you wanted more.

"Fuck-! Axl, that-that feels..." You trailed off, unsure of what you were trying to say.

"It feels good, right?" He asked, barely pulling away to speak. He smiled up at you, pretty eyes and shiny lips. You nodded and he went back to fucking you, his tongue swirling around your clit.

"Hah! I-I should've let you do-do this sooner, oh fuck~" Your head rolled back, resting against the headboard. Your hands went to his head, tugging on his hair and drawing moans from him which vibrated through you.

"Doing so good for me, sweetheart~" His deep voice had your legs shaking. "Making such pretty noises." A hand left your thigh and you felt him push a finger into you. Your back arched as he curled it inside you, dragging against your walls and pulling moans out of you.

"Axl, m'gonna- m'so close!" You whined. Out of curiosity you looked down at him. His gaze flickered between your face and your cunt, tongue slipping past his lips, paying attention to your clit, fingers pushing in and out of your puffy hole. Such an angelic and filthy sight.

Your body shook as you came at the sight, eyes rolling back, pleasure rocking your body. He felt so good.

"See?" Axl sat up, licking your juices off his fingers and wiping his chin. "I told you it felt good." Your mind was foggy as you tried to catch your breath. You smiled tiredly and closed your legs, only for Axl to force them apart again. "No, I want more." He gleamed, leaning in and kissing you, you could taste the saltiness of yourself on his lips.

[withleeknow]

endgame. (m)

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, explicit smut; unedited. minors dni. word count: 1.1k note: she was gonna be a cute fluffy piece but she got away from me and turned slutty all of a sudden lmao... anywhomst, i wrote this while half asleep so it definitely could've been better but oh well 🤷‍♀️

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

It started off innocently at first, or as innocent as can be when you’re naked together in a bathtub, with your husband’s hands roaming your body, kneading any spot he thinks would help you ease your tension. The knot on the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your arms and legs, until he paused at your thighs.

Today was a crappy day, one of the worst you've had in a while. Everything started going downhill about an hour after you showed up to work, and it kept rolling down the slope of bad-day-ness until you got home. Shitty boss, shitty coworkers, some annoying backhanded remarks from your family that you didn't appreciate at all. It was too much.

You just wanted to go home, cuddle up with your Minho, and start anew tomorrow.

The second that you opened the door, though, your husband was there, greeting you with a soft smile and an even softer kiss. Like he could sense that something was up even though you hadn't mentioned anything to him all day. You even tried to hide your sour mood from him, thinking that maybe you were overreacting, that maybe it would go away eventually.

You don't know how he knew, but there he was, trying to cheer you up without you having to ask. He'd made all of your favorite dishes, because he knows you love it when he cooks for you more than any expensive meal he could get for you. After dinner, he'd told you to just sit there and look pretty with your favorite ice cream that he bought earlier today, while he cleaned everything up. He'd gotten on the couch afterward and cuddled with you while watching your comfort show.

And now here you are, in a bath that he ran for the both of you, trying to help you wind down after a hellish day.

He's been showering you with affection and pampering you with love all evening, without even being aware of everything that transpired throughout the day. He just knew, and he just simply made it his personal mission to comfort you any way he could. The mere thought of it is enough to bring your tears to your eyes.

Slender fingers squeeze your flesh before they start drawing odd patterns into your skin. Minho tilts your head to the side so he can kiss the corner of your mouth. “Can I make it better?” he asks.

You don’t answer him with words. Instead, you place your hand on top of his and guide it toward where you need him the most. Your husband graces you with an endeared smile the second his fingers meet your core while you sigh, eager for what’s to come.

He finds your clit with ease, just rubbing it for a moment and relishing in the way your voice gets caught in your throat, until he’s satisfied with how wet you are.

You wait with bated breath as he starts circling your entrance with the tip of his middle finger. And when he finally pushes in, burying the digit to the knuckle, all you can do is moan his name with a neediness that’s only reserved for instances like this.

“Fuck…”

You throw your head back to rest on his shoulder, your lips parting in a silent prayer as your thighs try to close around his hand, to keep it there between your legs. There's no one you love as much as him, and even after all these years, sometimes you still wonder how he could possibly be yours.

It's this kind of moments that makes you want to thank all the higher powers out there that aligned the stars for you and him.

“Feel good?” he asks, dragging his lips to pepper the side of your face with soft kisses.

“So good… You’re so good to me…”

Minho thrusts the single digit into you for a while, just testing the waters, easing you into the feeling, before he adds a second finger to join the first. It earns him a beautiful whimper from you, then a clench of your velvety walls around his fingers.

Then you’re turning your body to try and face him better. You catch his mouth in a kiss, but the way he instantly takes control and deepens it makes your head spin with desire. You think he must be doing it on purpose when his digits suddenly curl inside of you, making you gasp against his lips. If there’s one thing that Minho loves more than hearing the sounds you keen out for him, it’s feeling those sounds being released into him.

You attempt to reach for his hardened length - which must be throbbing at this point - between your bodies, but he just swats your hand away. “Just let me take care of you," he scolds lightly.

You want to protest, want to say that he should feel good too, but it's not exactly easy to put up much of a fight when his fingers are still relentlessly pumping into you, caressing your walls on every stroke.

His thumb flicks your slippery clit as his other hand comes up to cup one of your tits, squeezing it in his palm until you’re arching desperately into his touch. Some water splashes over the edge of the tub and onto the marbled floor as you squirm against his body, your hips bucking wildly into his hand, trying to find that high and hoping to crash into it headfirst.

Minho can tell that you're close. He knows you too well.

“Come on,” he says softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “My love.”

A few more swipes at your clit coupled with some more consistent thrusts into your slickened heat and you're done for. Your cunt spasms around his fingers as you cry out his name, grinding feverishly against his hand. He helps you through your orgasm, all the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. There's my girl. You did so well for me. I love you. Just things that he tells you practically every day, but they still make you flutter with absolute fondness for him nonetheless.

Once you've calmed down, you peer up at him lazily, still leaning against his body with his arms around you. Minho just smiles, seemingly so proud of himself that he's made you feel better.

More than better, actually.

You love him, so goddamn much. If only he knew that he didn't have to do anything to salvage your day. Only his presence was enough for you. It's always been enough for you.

The thought of ever loving anyone else seems like an impossible one. He's it for you. This is your endgame, right here.

"Thank you," you say.

"You never have to thank me." He shrugs sheepishly, then kisses you again, softer and slower this time. "You're my wife. I love you. I'm always going to want to make your days better."

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.11.2023]

[izu]

hey just wanna say that i LOVE your art!!! i’ve seen you on twitter and ugh just can’t get enough of it! also do you happen to have some johnshi headcannons?? cuz if you do i would like to see them all!! :3

thank you so much!!! i hope to draw more.... also get ready bc i have way too many headcanons and this'll probably be super long winded unfortunately . this isn't all of it but its most of it

- kenshi is a heavy sleeper. after moving in with johnny post-tournament he begins to unwind from his former unhealthy schedule that was supported by his yakuza lifestyle. johnny wakes up at 5 am to work out until lunch, and kenshi sleeps in til like noon or 1. johnny thinks its cute

- they either own a fuck ton of cats or ferrets. johnny seems like a ferret guy to me

- they like watching director's cuts of movies instead of actual movies because kenshi can actually understand a little more of whats happening while the directors explain certain scenes and go into depth about the composition and art direction. its a win win situation for both of them

- johnny actually reads a ton of books, but is embarrassed about it. leftovers from being a ""nerd"" in high school. kenshi thinks its adorable and he likes hearing johnny retell the book plot and express his exasperation with it unfolding as he reads

- johnny has a sweet tooth and kenshi has a more refined palette, he will try anything johnny sets in front of him though, even if he isnt much of a sweets guy

- on that same note, johnny is very good at cooking! every other night he plans a meal for them, and it's almost always a winner. lots of japanese style dishes (took some trial and error on johnny's part) because he wants to impress kenshi

- they go to red carpet events together after a couple of years of dating, but for a while they pretended (to the press, too) that kenshi was his newest bodyguard. rumors spread fast though and it ended up being a perfect time to let johnny come out publicly as bi

- kenshi's parents are actually very very supportive. i think he'd be nervous at first but his mom thinks johnny is very handsome and his father agrees its a good change for their family. kenshi has two sisters who absolutely raise hell over kenshi nabbing a sexy gaijin star and he is very embarrassed about it. much to johnny's delight

- they spend every weekend on the balcony of johnny's new loft in his jacuzzi just talking and being sappy. kenshi genuinely gets a lil upset when things come up and they miss their date nights

- everytime kenshi returns to the states after visiting home johnny makes a big scene at the airport. lunging at him, crying sobbing

- kenshi proposes first, but johnny had been nervously trying to wait for a good time to do it himself. one upped. he is still very upset about this well into their marriage as old yaois

- kenshi is the top 👍 i think we all knew this but still

- even if he doesn't need it, its sort of a ritual between them so they never stopped; johnny is still kenshi's sight dog when they go out and he doesn't feel like relying on sento.

- sento's ancestors like johnny a lot and kept being annoying about kenshi needing to get hitched already hskw7kejej

- kenshi is achillean, gay. always has been. his arrangement with suchin was. arranged. and she was his lesbian beard for a while. the two are very very close and she visits their home often. johnny is trans and bisexual, but he's only out about being bi.

- johnny tends to have a really shitty sleep cycle, light sleeper, easily thrown into insomnia, the busy street life can really fuck up his routine when hes already had a terrible day. which ends up with the both of them on the couch, talking, watching a show, kenshi with his head on johnny's shoulder. they fall asleep like that 7 times outta 10

- the older they get the sappier and grosser they get . everyone who knows them hates their gay asses . jax and sonya included

- also they both get dad bods when they get older bc of all the good eating. neither are insecure about it. its hot

- kenshi is undeniably the spoiled one. gifts, fancy dinner dates, unrelenting affection and praise. he starts believing he deserves good things, that he is loved, solely by johnny's persistence with showing him instead of telling him

- cris ends up being their friend again after a while. i just dont like the cris villainization when its contrasted with johnshi support. she had her reasons to be upset at her alcoholic, spending-addicted husband, y'all

- johnny like action/sci fi movies. kenshi likes romcoms.

- they host parties. they're awesome parties.

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Intimacy | Wanda Maximoff

A Stripper MILF Wanda Cinematic Universe Story

Summary: After a stressful day at work, Wanda wants you to help her forget it

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (Minors DNI), dom/sub dynamics, degradation kink, face slapping, restraints, forced orgasms, spanking, blood, language

Word Count: 3K

Masterlist

A/N: I'd love to do this to Wanda

Wanda slammed the car door so hard you could feel it in the kitchen.  You looked up from your potato, glancing at the unopened door you feared would soon be kicked open before being slammed shut.  It was the sign that something was wrong.  What that was you couldn’t be sure.  Most likely it was related to her day at the club, probably a creep who felt that Wanda’s act gave him permission to feel her up or proposition her for a good time out back.  Regardless of what happened, you would do what you always did whenever your girlfriend came home frustrated: give her a hug, draw her a bubble bath, and pour her the big glass of wine while she sat on the couch watching whatever sitcom she could click on first.

The door kicked open and slammed shut just as you predicted.  Wanda’s grumblings and mutterings were intelligible from your spot in the kitchen, but you heard her backpack thud as she dropped it to the ground.  The slap of her bare feet storming toward the kitchen made you only momentarily consider hiding your knife.

“You.  Upstairs.  Now.”  You didn’t have time to respond before Wanda grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the kitchen. 

You tripped over your feet as she practically pulled you up the stairs.  “Are you good?”

“I had a shitty day and I need you to help me forget about it.”  She kicked open the door to the bedroom and threw you inside before slamming it shut.  

“Alright,” you chuckled.  Reaching for your belt, you began to undo it before Wanda stopped you.  Her green eyes burned with an intense fire you’d never seen before.

“I need you to fuck me,” she stated plainly.

“I can do that.”

“No, Y/N.  I need you to fuck me.”

“I…well yeah, I can do that.”  You were confused.  Wanda was trying to ask you something but you had no idea what she was implying.  Fuck her?  You would willingly do that whenever she asked.  Wanda let out an exasperated groan, throwing her hands in the air as she walked away from you and flopped face down on the bed.  “Wands?  I want to help, sweetie, but you gotta tell me what you want,” you coaxed, flopping down next to her.  She mumbled something into the comforter, but you couldn’t understand her with her face full of quilt.  “What?”

Wanda turned her head to the side, her fiery red hair sprawling over her face as she attempted to look at you.  “I need you to fuck me.  Like, just fuck me.  Do whatever you want to me.  I want you to be so fucking rough with me that I’m begging you to stop.  But don’t stop, okay?  Hit me, hurt me, make me bleed, I really don’t care.”

“Are…are you sure?”  

“Y/N I swear to god if you don’t put your-”

“Okay, okay!” You brushed her hair out of her face, the long locks twisting as you carefully arranged it on the side of her head.  You smiled to yourself.  Certainly you’d find your fingers tangled with her hair later in ways that would drive her absolutely wild.  There were endless possibilities at play.  Wanda was giving you free reign over her body: you were going to take full advantage of that.  “What’s the safeword?”

“Pineapples.”  The same tried and true word.  It had never been spoken by either of you before, but you kept it the same for continuity’s sake.

“Good.” You pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.  It was the last bit of gentleness you wanted to show her, but Wanda had other ideas.  Needy hands grabbed at the collar of your t-shirt.  You found yourself being pulled into your lover as she rolled onto her side.  Her lips were incredibly soft and sweet, tantalizing you as you relished in their softness.  You felt her smile coyly as you kissed her back.  That was enough to almost make you lose all sense of yourself, but you managed to snap yourself back to reality before Wanda managed to take control of the situation.

“Oh absolutely not,” you teased.  Wanda’s eyes snapped open, her face flushing red.  Her body burned with anticipation as you straddled her waist, your pulse quickening as you rolled on top of her.  The two of you found yourselves dizzy in the thick atmosphere that filled the bedroom.  “You think you can distract me like that, huh?  We haven’t even started yet and you can’t take it?”  The thrum of desire surging through your body was almost insatiable.  It took all your self-restraint to only trail your hand down the side of her face.  You heard Wanda’s breath hitch at the light caress of your fingers against her cheek.  It was all she could do to nod.

Without giving her a moment to recover, you slammed your lips into hers.  She moaned into your mouth as you bit down on her lower lip.  The sharp metallic tang of blood coated sent a shiver down your spine.  There was something inherently dirty about the act of spilling blood, of coating your tongue in the crimson ichor that was meant to remain untasted.  As you lapped at the drops, heat spreading under your skin, you began tearing at the buttons on Wanda’s oversized flannel.  Your fingers moved deftly over the fabric as she arched her back, desperate for more contact with you.

“I bet you’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you, you little slut?”  Wanda whimpered, her eyes rolling back as you tore the shirt from her now exposed frame.  “What was that?  I couldn’t hear you.  You better answer me when I talk to you.”

“I want you so bad, baby,” Wanda whined. You smirked, reaching underneath her to unclasp her bra and throw it behind you.  “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please.  Please.  Please just-”  A stinging smack across her face interrupted her incoherent babbling.  Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes as you leaned in close to her, your lips brushing against her ear as you spoke.

“I ask, you answer.  That’s how this works.  Please what?” you growled.

“Please fuck me.”

Your hand rubbed gentle circles over her reddened cheek.  Wanda’s utterly disheveled appearance drove you absolutely wild.  She was surrendering all her inhibitions to you.  Not only was it unbelievably intimate, it was incredibly hot as well.  Smirking as you locked eyes with her dazed emerald orbs, you gave her cheek a light slap before reaching down to thumb the waistband of her leggings.  You slid them around her waist, teasing the soft rolls of her tummy that were covered by the wide waistband.  

“Sweetheart, you’re soaked,” you mumbled as you carefully peeled her leggings off.  The growing dark spot on her otherwise pastel blue panties sent you into a frenzy.  A dull ache formed in the pit of your stomach as you bit back a moan.  

Quick hands made work of your own jeans as your tented boxers soon joined Wanda’s bra on the floor.  Your erection was rock hard, throbbing with every hammering beat of your heart.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t see straight,” you teased, dipping a hand down her panties and sliding your fingers up her slit.  Slick juices coated your hand, which you promptly used to massage up and down your shaft.  Wanda salivated at the sight of her arousal coating your engorged length. Not breaking eye contact with your hand, watching as you fondled yourself with her sweet juices, she slipped her panties down her legs.  

“Did I tell you that you could take those off yet?”  Wanda yelped as you grabbed her wrist.  “Hands and knees.  Now.”  You yanked the sticky undergarments off, throwing them behind you to land amongst the discarded garments strewn on your bedroom floor.  Wanda quickly and willingly obliged your command.  Her body trembled with anticipation of your next action.  Both of you knew that you would punish her for her willful disobedience.  You were in charge, she was to submit to your demands.

Rubbing circles on her exposed flesh, her full and voluptuous ass on full display, you slapped it hard.  She yelped again, the sting of your open palm sending pleasure and pain to all ends of her body.  The skin beneath your hand burned bright red as you rendered slap after slap.  Each successive hit slowly transformed Wanda’s yelps and cries to stifled moans as her cunt glistened with her dripping arousal.  

“Dumb slut,” you muttered.  “God, you’re just a pathetic little cumrag, aren’t you?  Don’t worry, baby, you won’t need to think at all while I fuck you.”  You grabbed her hips, pulling them towards you as you lined the tip of your penis up with her entrance.  Heart pounding, lust teeming throughout every inch of your body, you buried yourself inside her in one quick thrust.  Wanda gasped as she adjusted to your girth.  It was far from the first time she’d taken you, but it always took a moment for her to acclimate to the intrusion.  While you normally gave her a moment, Wanda’s words echoed in your head: “hurt me.”

With no warning, you pounded into her.  You watched your cock dip in and out of her in rapid succession, her juices mixing with your precum and coating every inch of your shaft.  The sound of smacking flesh filled the room as your pelvis rutted into her ass.  You threw your head back, closing your eyes as you relished in the sensation of her walls gripping you.  Wanda clawed at the bedsheets with balled fists, her eyes rolling back into her head as soft moans escaped her open mouth.

“Look at you taking my cock so well.  You’re such a good little cock whore, aren’t you?”  She croaked out a garbled sigh in response.  “Can’t even answer, you’re so full right now.”

“Fuck, daddy, fuck my pussy,” Wanda groaned loudly.

“Daddy?”  For a moment you were snapped out of your scene.  It was the first time she called you that, but it only made the fire that was burning in your body that much hotter. “You like the way daddy fucks you, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded enthusiastically.  Her grip on the sheets tightened as she rocked her hips back against yours.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk.”  You had already set a brutal pace with your thrusts, but your hips bucked into her frantically as you teased her.

“‘M gonna cum,” Wanda moaned.  As you slammed into her cunt, Wanda let out a choked sob as her walls fluttered around you.  You didn’t let up, fucking her at full force through her orgasm.  “Stop, baby, it’s too much.”

“But I thought this is what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted me to fuck you like the whore you are.  Come on, Wanda, be a good girl for daddy,” you mocked.  “Yeah, that’s a good girl, hmm?”

Wanda’s head fell to the pillow as you brought her to the brink of a second orgasm almost immediately after her first.  Her muffled screams filled the room as her swollen pussy squelched with every buck of your hips.  You smiled to yourself knowingly.  There was nothing you enjoyed more than watching her cum.  Her second orgasm was quickly followed by a third.  By the time Wanda approached her fourth consecutive orgasm, you figured she was about spent.  Willingly spurring yourself on, you slowed your thrusts, methodically pulling your entire length out before bottoming out inside her.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you grunted.  Sharp nails dug into her soft hips as you shuddered with your thrusts.  You could feel the pressure coming to a peak inside you.

“Cum in me, baby,” Wanda begged.  Her voice was ragged from screaming.

“I’ll fill you up so good.  Stuff you with my cum, make it run down your legs, coat every inch of that fucking amazing pussy.”  With one final thrust you emptied yourself inside her, hot strands painting her womb white as you bred her.  Her walls milked every last drop from your cock as she came around you for a fourth time.   

Groaning, you collapsed down on her as the feeling in your legs finally gave out.  Your sweaty bodies pressed together as your hearts pounded wildly in your chests.  The orgasm left you satisfied, but you weren’t done with Wanda quite yet.  Difficult as it was, you rolled off her, reaching over for your nightstand.  

“Come on, slut.  I’m not done with you yet,” you ordered, rolling her over as you grabbed the handcuffs from the drawer.  The cool metal clicked into place around her wrists as you raised her arms above her head, reaching back into the drawer for the rope to secure them to the bed.  Once you checked to make sure the knot was secure, you rolled over to Wanda’s side of the bed, rummaging through her drawer for her large vibrating wand.  You found it, along with the proper restraints to make sure it stayed right where it needed to be.  The cuffs for her legs were right next to it and you threw those onto the bed, too.  

You made quick work of the ropes, cuffing her ankles to the bedposts and tying the wand around her midsection so that it stayed put.  Wanda’s breaths were heavy and ragged as you worked silently, focusing intently on your task as you tried to ignore the nude woman twitching and shaking underneath you.  

“Now,” you began as you jumped off the bed, “I have to finish making dinner.  I’ll be back once I’m done.”  You grabbed your boxers and jumped into them, reaching down once you were somewhat dressed to retrieve another item of clothing.  But this wasn’t for you.  “In the meantime, I’ll leave you here.”

“Y/N,” Wanda groaned.  You could practically smell the arousal pooling between her legs.

“Oh, and I like to cook in silence so…” You turned toward the bed, unballing your fist to let the stained panties dangle limply from your grasp.  Wanda’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping just enough so you could shove the garment inside and gag her.  You turned the vibrator on to the lowest setting with the intent of torturing her.

Back in the kitchen, you continued dicing your potatoes, mixing the dry rub for your chicken thighs together, chopping off the ends of the asparagus, and placing everything on two cookie sheets before plopping them in the oven.  It wasn’t more than ten minutes, but it was more than long enough for Wanda.  When you returned to the bedroom after placing dinner in the oven, you found a quivering mess of the woman you left behind.  Tears rolled down her face, ruining her mascara as screams stood silenced behind cotton.  Her body strained and convulsed against the constant overstimulation.  The bed shook violently as she bucked her hips wildly, a feeble attempt at loosening your restraints.  Her clit was swollen, her lips bright red and puffy while a slick sheen coated all of her sex.  A damp puddle pooled between her legs: you made a mental reminder to change the sheets before the boys got home.  Her eyes begged and pleaded with you to stop, the worst thoughts of her day finally expunged from her mind as a result of your brutal fucking.

As soon as you turned the wand off, Wanda’s entire body shuddered and collapsed deep into the mattress.  You carefully removed the underwear from her mouth, massaging her stiff jaw as you straddled her torso.

“You, umm, you’ve got a little mascara…here, let me help.”  You thumbbed away a leaky black trail from her cheek.  Her hands still restrained, Wanda gazed into your soul.  It was a distant look, like she was in a far off land and not really present.  “Are you okay?” you whispered, nearly closing the distance between your lips and hers.

“I…”  She couldn’t speak.  There were no words to describe what she just experienced both physically and mentally.  

“Did I hurt you?”

“No baby, no.  I just don’t think I can move,” she breathed with a slight chuckle.

“Do you want me to draw you a bath?”

“No.  No, no bath.  Not now.  Just…hold me?”   Wanda was at her most vulnerable.  You gave her what she wanted, as you always did, and it took everything out of her.  There was no one else she trusted to do this to her, and the intimacy it created between the two of you was something you couldn’t describe.  Even after all the pain and degradation and tears, all she wanted was to be held by the man she trusted as her protector.  

“I can do that,” you whispered, untying the various ropes and unlocking the handcuffs.  As you worked around her body, you occasionally stopped to press loving kisses all over her, massaging the porcelain skin that was only beginning to show signs of weathering.  The restraints were quickly discarded as you curled yourself behind Wanda, wrapping your arm around her midsection as you spooned her. 

“No, not like this,” she pouted, rolling over and pushing you onto your back.

“Okay,” you apologized as she clung to you like a koala, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck.  It didn’t take long for Wanda’s breathing to deepen and slow as she relaxed into your warmth.  Your fingers found themselves tangling in the red hair that was spread across your chest, twisting and twirling with her natural curls.

“Thank you,” she murmured from the brink of slumber.  You smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she passed out from sheer exhaustion.  A shower and dinner and picking the boys up could wait.  For the next thirty-seven minutes until the beeping oven reminded you of your worldly existence, your world consisted of only you and Wanda lying in bed in the throes of ecstasy, closer than you’d ever been.    

[sinofthesloth]

𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕪 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤?

synopsis: How would the first year react to being on a “study date” with you.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ FT. Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek ♥

★彡[ᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴏʟᴀ]彡★

You didn’t technically ask him to go on a study date, but it was the only way Riddle was going to let him spend time with you.

Everyone knew you both like each other, but Riddle was very strict when it comes to... anything really. There was rules to everything with Riddle. During the time Ace wanted to ask you on a date, or to hang out to get closer to you, Riddle would interrupt about some rule made by a long dead queen.

You saw Riddle trying to drag Ace into a study secession with himself and Deuce after the issue with Azul. Being tired of constant interruptions, you told Riddle that you asked Ace to help you study for the upcoming basic healing magic test. Riddle said you could join the three of them, and that’s how you ended up here. Sitting next to Ace.

While Riddle and Deuce focused on math, Ace stared boringly at the words on the page. The knowledge of the magic was both interesting to learn about, but boring since you couldn’t perform it. 

Ace, even though he was sitting next to you, was passing you notes under the table. Some were funny, some were cute. But the best ones were the bad drawings of Riddle. They were stick figures with its mouth open and hold a shitty drawing of Riddle’s staff and crown with a bubble saying, “I love to get in the way of love. It goes against the rules to love anyone other than the rules.”

You’d snicker at each one and pass your own notes back. It was like the two of you were in middle school. 

 Sometimes you’d point to a word and laugh as Ace tried to pronounce it in the dumbest ways. Clearly fucking the word only for Riddle to correctly pronounce it. 

When he would try to look at the book with you, he’d place his hand over yours for some kind of contact, but he’d never tell you that. He’d lie and say he didn’t notice. Only to not let your hand go until you had to turn the page.

You did distract Deuce a few times as Ace would continue trying to make you laugh. 

No real studying was done, much to Riddle’s disappointment. 

★彡[ᴅᴇᴜᴄᴇ ꜱᴘᴀᴅᴇ]彡★

He asked you to help him study last minute. 

He normally studies with Riddle, Trey, or Cater, but all three were busy with their own upcoming tests, and he didn’t trust Ace to actually help him study.

The two of you are at Ramshackle so neither of you will be embarrassed about some of the dumb questions the other would most definitely be asking. 

“Wait so, if you don’t stir the potions in the proper direction, I could mess up the entire recipe?”

“I mean, probably. There must be a reason people purposely put which direction to stir it.” 

Deuce, though lovable, is an idiot. He summoned a cauldron, almost dropped it on you, and then halfway through making a mock potion, realized neither of you had all the needed items. So in your pajamas, you both walked to very much closed botanical garden. His test was in the morning and poor guy was panicking over not being able to get one last chance to practice. 

You both had to talk the other out of breaking in. You wanted to do it so he would feel better about the test. He also wanted to do it to get more practice. But neither of you wanted to deal with Crewel’s anger over the thieving, broken glass, and your poor time management.

He ending up spending the night because the two of you fell asleep in the lounge area to him repeating the ten potential potion’s recipes.

★彡[ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴏᴡʟ]彡★

You asked him if the two of you could study together. 

Seeing it was you that needed help, he wasn’t really focused on studying himself. 

He had you sitting on the floor in front of the couch so he could play with your hair and help you when or if you needed it. Jack kept the things around Ramshackle from completely falling apart while you tried to study.

Ace needs help running from Riddle? Jack lets him inside due to you telling him to, but the second he distracts you? Jack is calling Riddle.

Deuce coming over to join you while studying? Jack has you sitting in the middle with his arm around you to read off your text book. He will also use that hand to make sure Deuce pays attention to his own work by putting his hand on the top of his head to turn it. “You need to read your work too.”

Jack enjoys these little study dates because the way you light up when he tells you that you’re right. He loves seeing the smile it puts on your face and seeing you get excited for more of his praise. 

★彡[ᴇᴘᴇʟ ꜰᴇʟᴍɪᴇʀ]彡★

He asked you. At first he was telling himself it was to get away from Vil, but then it shifted into wanting to see you more. 

He started coming over to Ramshackle so much under the excuse of studying that Vil and Rook asked to join. It’s not that they didn’t believe him but his grades didn’t move any in the last test. 

Epel didn’t say yes, but he also didn’t say no, so they showed up about thirty minutes after Epel should have arrived to Ramshackle. They knock and Grim was the one who opened the door. “If you’re looking for the country boy, he’s in the living area with MY henchman.” Grim clearly didn’t like the fact your time was being spent on someone else.

When the pair walked into the living area, they saw you and Epel reading out of the same book. It seems Epel hadn’t brought his study stuff. 

Neither of you notice the duo as the looked at the two of you. Epel began muttering something as he waved his magic pen and a green mist coated the apple he tapped. 

Vil and Rook didn’t metal with either of you as you both tried to figure out why It hadn’t worked. Epel seemed a bit upset it didn’t work and glared daggers at it. “Maybe it was because you weren’t speaking how you normally do?”

Epel tried again without attempting to sound proper. “In all honesty I prefer your accent. No one else around here sounds like you.”

It still didn't work.

"Speak louder and with more confidence. The more you mumble, the harder casting will be." Vil spoke to make himself present.

All four of you continued studying with minimal

★彡[ꜱᴇʙᴇᴋ ᴢɪɢᴠᴏʟᴛ]彡★

You invited him, but he originally said no. He is only here because Lilia told him that Malleus thought it would be interesting to study with a human from another world. 

Sebek promised him that he would study with you and retell him everything about the study session. I didn’t see it as a date. At first.

You decided to study in the living room since he opened his mouth about how decrypt the dorm was as soon as he walked in. You tried not to let it get to you since you knew he spoke his thoughts as soon as they entered his mind.

You brought your books down as he set himself up to begin studying, and even asked if he wanted anything to snack on. Bringing a plate of cookies and a few pillows to sit on. 

Sebek didn’t ask for anything during the time the two of you studied. Every now and then you had to ask him about the history of something, and he’d answer. After answering a question, he’d take a cookie and return to his own studies. Without realizing it, he began anticipating your questions. Sitting and waiting for you to ask anything about fae history.

You made the mistake of asking about past fae rulers.

At this point, he seemed to have forgotten about his study. He was going on and on about each past ruler. Telling stories of his grandfather's travels with a magnificent, blood-red haired fae. You wrote everything down. The material didn't even fit the parameters of the questions asked. It was simply to read them over and over again, hoping to ingrain the way Sebek faces lit up when speaking of his family's past.

Once he got to speaking on how Malleus was going to make a great leader and how he couldn't wait to guard him with his life, his eyes met yours. A smile graced your face as you looked back to your work.

"The next time I come over, we can discuss further on the matter. You must know next to nothing of the subject and you're lucky I care about your studies."

Maybe he wouldn't share the discovery of how sweet your cookies are or how his chest tightened when he saw how immersed you were with his topic. Maybe he could be a little selfish when it came to his studies with you.

[somedayslater]

i didnt read the last chapters since i discovered it was the end (but i was spoiled by tumblr lol)... i didnt want to believe it... i want to still look forward to new chapters of No Home :(

For the last few years eunyung and haejoon have been my companions. I healed a little while following the story of eunyung, feeling like its ok to be angry and wanting revenge on your family and the society that continues to want to keep you in a "house" where you are mistreated. How the world isnt made for children at all, the absolute unfairness of it all. That you can choose to keep going, and if you do so its ok to keep your distance with what hurts you.

I healed too with haejoon, who came to terms with the fact that he will always be overcome with sadness and grief from time to time, and when that happens he can only let himself feel and wait for it to pass, and try to look forward to the next day.

Honestly this manwha was the best ever. I couldnt read this manhwa as a form of escapism because it was too real. It pulled strings in my heart i didnt know i had, made me question a lot of things about myself, about others, about my relationship with others. It made me have painful discussion with a few people. Following this manhwa, most of the time, was really unpleasant lol. I hated then loved eunyoung, I liked and then disliked haejoon (yeah sorry haejoon, i think you can be really cruel and stupid and i wanted to strangle you a few times in the last arcs (i would NOT be friend with that guy lol) -thats why this character is so amazing). But i felt so much while reading it i wouldnt trade it for anything. It was funny, it was dumb, it was deep, it was enraging and healing, but most of all it was sincere. The most sincere depiction of what being a person in a deeply flawed society is, and how there's happiness even while surviving.

It was so frustrating to see the manhwa go in a direction i didnt want it to go ! I wanted it to become my cozy refuge, where every problems are magically solved, where haejoon and eunyung ends up understanding and loving each other in a cliché way, where theres a new home with my *fave charas* and its a series of feel-good interactions. Instead the problems kept pilling up, most of them didnt have a satisfactory conclusion, eunyung and haejoon kept hurting each other and distancing themselves. Haejoon just cut contact with his father without knowing what were his nefarious motives or without this guy facing any consequences, we dont know if eunyung's parents will keep bothering eunyung unchecked, we dont know if they're going to be happy and rich, or if, realistically, as orphans without generational wealth and deep traumas, they're going to end up in a shitty life situation.

And i couldnt thank wanan enough for this. They didnt take the easy way, the feel-good way, the way that would have given them a probably bigger fandom so a bigger source of money. I'm amazed by how they managed to hold this whole story so perfectly. Not a single misstep. Everything they draw was where it should have been, every action from the characters were understandable (and frustrating lol), the fucking subtlety of the developing relationships, no deus ex machina and no miserabilism. I didnt always agree with wanan's ethic or what i perceived of it (i think stealing or being violent is ok depending on the context, i dont think working hard to earn money is a virtue) but i respect how they choose to present it. I didnt talk about the other characters because honestly they didnt move me as much (except marie), but i love them so much too. I felt sad that eunyung and haejoon didnt become best friend 5ever (or even lovers hehe) but honestly, understandable lol. If i was one of them i WOULDNT become close with the other at all, so its kinda amazing they could still find this level of mutual understanding.

In short, wanan is an amazing story teller.

And an amazing image-composist (have no idea how to say this in english). The artstyle doesnt look like much, but this gave wanan a wide graphic range to convey emotions that wouldnt have been possible with a more sophisticated style i think -how will i forget the red swirlings mixing with eunyung skin ? The expressions, the choice of colors, the choice in showing something in particular without giving a clear explanation on why (often haejoon's surprised or contemplative face, which made me re-read chapters a few times to try to understand what was happening in his big head). It didnt feel like wanan thought their readers were stupid, nor did they play the fake-deep style. It was perfectly balanced.

And so even if i didnt read it, i have no doubt the end will be the same. Im so sad they decided to end this manhwa, but i know prolonging it would have been greedy and that ultimately, the manhwa would have suffer for it. Some authors do that : they have a popular series going on, and for whatever reason they keep writing new chapters without a clear goal and so the story becomes diluted, messy, useless. I love when they do this, because i can say goodbye to a story progressively as my interest in it wans, without feeling sadness or loss. But it makes me not think of the story at all in the future, since everything that was good about it became buried in new shitty chapters. Because wanan didnt do that, i know that i would think of no home for a long while, maybe forever,

,like i really lost companions when no home ended actually. Because it really, really hurts, knowing i wont be seeing new faces of the no home characters anymore. I know it sounds probably stupid ; i feel genuine grief here lol. I want to know what will happen to them, if they are alright, if they found a place in the world... if there is something to look forward after all, and i really dread not having answers every monday anymore. and the fandom is so small i cant comfort myself by re-entering the no home world every week or whatever... does anyone else feel this way ToT ? maybe i should participate myself but well,, i wouldnt know where to begin...

And saying that ! I'm almost never on this blog, i dont really have socmed accounts, i dont participate in fandoms at all. But I spent a looot of time reading and watching people who does -without being connected or interacting with posts or fanfics at all. AND i really want to thank you all for giving me so much material to chew, posts that made me think, fics that made me smile, drawings that inspired me, witnessing interactions that made me laugh. I was and i probably will continue to be a ghost on socmed, but i really want you to know that you had an impact on me and i was looking forward to your new posts (and will continue to!).

the "every no home chapter is a test of my willingness to Not blow my own brains out" and explosion eunhae monday of @skiptoyuri

the regular nohome posters which makes me happy to check tumblr regularly @shimamitsulover @lesbianpegbar @luckyswamps @tomoyoo @cloudbends @t0a2ter @solcarow @dragon-of-timeless-blue

the awesome artists who keep producing bangers nohome art @gohaejoon @maxsolosur @jjd5426 @bnnuycafe @ct-bunny @lentl-soup @fartaycat @jjd5426 @prokkoli @moxymaxing @ginangtan

the nohome posters that i enjoyed running into @pleuvoire @homolobotomized @podoro-vines @fmet @welpuu @revertrate @obstinaterixatrix @kulluto

the artists that made me interested in checking no home @cienfll @craysmo @ant-eaters @idledee @fruiitlins @froqpi-art @201918b @tinfishmeal @ohrsoh @30mingirlfriend

thanks @ditherslam for the awesome fanfics, obviously i read them all and they're some of my favourites. youre an amazing writer and i cant wait for the next chap of "your atoms"!!

thanks @homeless202 for being an insatiable nohome poster for a while (and @grannykombucha !)

im forgetting a lot of others but i really wanted to thank you all for your time, energy, work. i never interacted with your posts or with you but i really want to convey how cool it is that you all contribute to make no home a more well-known manhwa and the fandom alive

thank youuuu (hope the @ are ok tell me if its bothersome ill delete it)

and really, really, thank you wanan ! waaaa i want to cry

[maxisanangrywell]

Simon has scars, Simon has trauma-- Okay so imagine this.

Trauma often causes your body to break down not just mentally, but physically. Often, in the most extreme cases of trauma, your brain gets rewired to think/act/and distribute electro signals a certain way. Childhood trauma has been studied so intensively, that doctors have determined it can also suppress vital bodily functions, like digestion or even your immune system, possibly causing autoimmune disorders.

Me, I'm 21, with a couple of different disabilities from my trauma, so I'm drawing from experience.

What if, and hear me out, Simon starts, gradually over the next couple of years, getting some weird joint pains. Just, like it feels achey, and not quite right. Like he was down with a cold. It comes and goes, and he's not entirely sure when it started. He's always sort of had joint pains, I mean, look at his job? It's not only incredibly intense, and taxing physically AND emotionally, but he constantly is over working his joints. So, he thinks nothing of it.

Except, over the next few months it doesn't go away like he thinks. Oh well, right? He goes to the med bay, they check his symptoms, they check everything, and just simply find nothing. They have no reason to do blood work, or x-rays. He's not injured, and it doesn't sound like he's pulled anything or snapped any tendon. They tell him if it persists, to come back in. They give him Ibuprofen, Acetaminophen, and a N-SAID to trade off between the three, and help with any swelling or discomfort. All Simon's symptom points to, is the over work of the joints. I mean, hell, he's been in the SAS for years now, with about a decade or two of more service on top of that. He's considered old by the SAS, almost at the stage where they'd pull him off the field if he even sprains an ankle. So, he doesn't think anything of it, and refuses to go to med bay.

Without failure, the symptoms just sort of pile up gradually over the next four years. The joint pain is accompanied by stiffness and swelling. The joints, primarily in all his finger joints, wrists, and knees hurt, are red, and hot to the touch. His left hip is starting to get painful enough that he has to stretch and stay in his room for the first hour-and a half when he wakes. Otherwise, he'd be seen hobbling down the hall and that isn't good. He'd surely be sent to med bay.

So, Simon deals with it. Until one night, he's on a mission, and his joint stiffness catches up to him. Johnny has to help move him when they get under fire, and his hands and fingers hurt so bad he can't properly grab the gun and fire it. It takes him a few minutes, but he eventually returns fire. Johnny having seen the struggle, reports it to Price, who almost immediately sends him to med bay to get almost every fucking test done under the book.

"Obviously it's not just joint pain and stiffness of age anymore, Simon. I need you to be 100% out on the field. If not for you, then for Johnny. For the team."

Simon thinks it was pretty shitty of Price to use Johnny and the team against him, but it does the trick. He gets there, and spills almost everything to the doctor he saw last time. The doctor is shocked and appalled Simon never told him anything, and Simon tells him the medicine worked at first, as did the braces that he recommended for the joint support, but it just kept getting worse.

They do X-Rays, and blood work, and they find out Simon has a fairly common autoimmune disorder. Although, it's not the kind he wants to hear because it will result in a medical discharge.

"Rheumatoid Arthritis? You're bloody joking. My hand isn't all fucked up and weird looking doc. I can move my hand just fine."

"You can right now, but if you don't get the proper treatment, along with a transfusion for your knee... it will progress. Probably to the point you're bed bound."

The doctor calls in the team on behalf of Simon's request, and well, they try to find a way around it. At least, Gaz and Soap do. But before they exhaust all their options, Price offers to talk to the higher ups to see what the stance would be on moving Simon from an operator, to more of a coordinator like Kate. Where he would be able to do missions every one in a while, but not over exert himself to the point a flare-up is triggered and he is left in a dangerous position once again. The higher-ups agree, not wanting to lose the infamous Ghost.

So, there we go. :) That's my little tid-bit, take it as you want. And like always, if you enjoy the idea, please like/reblog, and if you want to build off the idea for your own AU or things, just tag me if you use specifics!! ((If you have any questions about RA, please drop them in my box and I will try to answer when I have the time!!))

[elli3sgf]

★ boxer!ellie headcanons

first post ever :o these r balls but i was bored n wanted to post something so . . .

— boxer!ellie x reader (gf)

lowercase intended

★ ellie is an infamous bare-knuckle boxer, in some dingy, underground fight club within jackson.

★ of course the first rule of any fight club, is don’t talk about said fight club. and that applied to you too - a pretty girl like you should never be mixed up in a mess like that, therefore she had no plans on telling you anything about it.

★ she’d persistently lie and tell you the cuts and bruises littered across her face and hands were from patrol - you believed her of course, it made sense.

★ that was until cat, who was also a part of the same hobby, had accidentally ran her mouth and you flew straight back to ellie to interrogate her on the matter.

★ at first she’d try to deny it.

. . . “the fuck are you talking about?”

. . . “cat told me, ellie.”

. . . “cat’s a cunt.. and a liar.”

★ but you quickly learned the truth after doing some snooping. you weren’t mad she kept it from you, although you were beyond worried for her, this ‘hobby’ was far from safe.

★ ellie totally banned you from attending her brawls despite your pleas to go with her, to make sure she’d be okay, clean her up if need be. she wouldn’t let you see her like that.

★ because with you, and only you, ellie was gentle. to others, not so much. she was snappy, short-tempered, blunt, easily frustrated. but never with you - she had the biggest soft spot for you.

. . . “sweet girl”

. . . “hey pretty”

. . . “baby”

★ when she wasn’t getting caught up in her bad habit, she would often find herself painting or drawing, usually stuff for you. she loveddd the way your eyes would light up when she handed you one of her sketches or silly doodles, signed with a <3

★ she also loved space, planets, stars. no one would have guessed that asshole ellie williams would be into that, nor would she tell anyone, only you knew.

. . . she told the stars about you

★ she has the worst swearing habit, not only because of her short-temper, but because the words were naturally ingrained into her vocabulary.

★ of course ellie is strong. toned muscles, abs and all. she used that to her advantage around you, never letting you do any hefty work.

. . . “ellie. i’m perfectly capable of moving a couple bricks.”

★ even after a not so victorious fight or a shitty day, she’s still so gentle and patient with you, never letting a loss and her consequential frustration affect her tone with you.

★ she'd sometimes come home late, early hours in the morning and see you passed out on her couch after you'd attempted to stay awake until she came back. you didn't live together though you spent a lot of time at her house and that's what you'd been doing that day, before she'd had to leave for a couple hours. when she got back, she'd pick you up and lightly lift you onto her bed, gently brushing loose strands of hair from your face and admiring your pretty features.

★ she is incredibly protective of you. if a dude looks a you the wrong way, she can’t keep her mouth closed.

. . .“the fuck are you staring at, prick, huh?”

★ if somebody touches you, tries to hurt you, she sees red. she’ll have them on the floor beating the absolute shit out of them.

. . .”don’t you ever lay a fucking finger on her ever the fuck again. that clear? or do i need to dent your thick skull you fucker.”

★ since you couldn’t go to a fight with ellie, you still made yourself as useful as possible. as much as you hated her habit, you still made sure to take care of her as best as you could.

★ you’d have her sit on the edge of her bathtub, and slot yourself between her legs, her hands rested on the back of your thighs. you would blot her face with a dampened cloth, while she would run her hands up and down your thighs, then up to the curve of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on your skin, loving the way your heart would quicken and your cheeks would heat up, painted with a pretty pink.

★ beneath that cold, sharp exterior on display for everyone else, ellie was so unbelievably in love with you. most people ‘round jackson believed she was far from capable of loving.

if only they knew her like you do.

[box-architecture]

I was rereading some of your stuff on Ao3, and went “huh. I know Sapnap kidnaps Dream out of a misguided idea of what’s happening at one point, but how does that all go? How did Dream react? What was Sapnap like?”

So now I’m asking you. At 12:20 am. I have class in 7.5 hours!

Okay so we're going to ignore how long this has been sitting in my drafts, half answered. Okay? Okay. Awesome

-

So at some point during the Discovery Of Many Kinks (because when you're having a weird poly relationship with your former Warden, you're going to try a bunch of different things. For Science) awesamdrunz attempt to do a sex tape. It gets left around and found within like three days. By Sapnap.

So of course because of burning curiosity he has to watch the mysterious tape to see whats on it.

Then the only reason he kept watching was shock and also trying to figure out who the hell the third person was, why they looked familiar but also what the hell happened to them. Fun ways to find out your former best friend wasn't lying when he said he was horrifically tortured by your kind-of finance: finding his sex tape.

And listen, originally it was a fun crack idea to have him see this relationship nonsense where awesamdrunz was basically fucking in sex dungeons (made by Sam) after kidnappings, and decided that this was actually a really good template to fix his own relationship. He ends up trapping Quackity and Karl in what might be a previously unused sex dungeon!

(Resounding success: both of his boyfriends did not murder each other (due to bars in between them) and even spoke to each other in order to escape. This is the most progress he's had in months.)

But then! Alternate Idea! Sapnap sees the sex tape and (honestly not unfairly given his prior knowledge) believes Punz & Sam are at minimum, pressuring Dream into this relationship, and somehow this is a worse crime than murder. No wonder Dream couldn't stay in the prison! (Which. Not inaccurate.) So Sapnap sets about needing to find and protect Dream.

Sapnap finds Dream, and tries to convince him that he'll protect him. Dream is confused about what Sapnap saw, and has a tough time refuting anything. He also does really miss his friend. So he,,, doesn't really fight when Sapnap takes him to a secondary location.

-

"The windows are nice. Not as defensible, but you'll know if the enemy approaches." Dream commented, staring at the cloud-covered sea.

Sapnap laughed nervously, pulling open kitchen cupboards. "Yeah, I don't know. There shouldn't be any way for someone to find us out here though; its not like I told anyone where we were going."

Dream pursed his lips, but said nothing, eyes following the way the waves crashed against the shitty boardwalk Sapnap cobbled together half asleep. He figured Dream wouldn't want to be cooped up in the cottage all the time, not after… everything, so they could go sit out on the beach and fish, maybe, or go look for seashells. They hadn't built a sandcastle since they were kids, either, so it would definitely be something fun to try. Just like old times.

The wheat was crumbling in his hands, so Sapnap quickly tossed it on the counter.

"Are you hungry?" He called out, trying for a bit more cheer. Dream's gaze pulled to his, and Sapnap began pulling more ingredients out on the granite. "I know I'm not usually the person who cooks, but I've been getting into it lately! I made rabbit stew for Karl the other day, and he didn't even make a face when he was chewing."

He didn't really think about the potatoes as he dumped them into the sink, but he did notice the way Dream flinched, drawing in on himself and towards the doorway.

"Dream?"

"Just…" Dream looked back out into the sea. His fingers, what remained of them, dug into the fabric of his pants. "Nothing with potatoes. Please."

Sapnap felt his anxiety roll like the tide.

"Yeah, dude, that's cool. Doesn't sound appealing right now anyway." He said uncertainly. Dream's shoulders relaxed marginally, but Sapnap still felt off. "Anything you're in the mood for, though? Beet soup? Cheese sandwich?"

"Whatever you cook is fine." Dream reassured him. A brittle, but teasing edge appeared in his smile. "Unless you somehow got worse at baking bread."

He had, but god forbid would he ever admit to that. He grinned, and sat up on the counter. "Oh, like you're so good at it. I tried your stupid 'Everything' bread, and it tasted like ash."

"You turned off the timer and it burned."

"Well maybe next time don't leave random timers on the oven and expect anyone to know what they're for."

"Maybe next time you should assume its there for a reason and not touch it." Dream said in exasperation. Sapnap stuck his tongue out, and Dream threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen. He was so dramatic, Sapnap thought fondly.

-

Its a lot of Sapnap attempting to reestablish their previous connection and realizing how much Dream has changed, and staring at the scars when he thinks Dream isn't looking. He gets Super Protective and promises he wont let anything else happen to him. Dream is instinctively upset (why now, why does it matter now, why do you care, I am Perfectly Fine) but its one of his People and he is So Tired.

Sapnap is sorta kinda keeping Dream with him. It's not exactly against Dream's will, but it's also like, if Dream could walk out the door and come back later without Sapnap freaking out he'd rather do that. But Sapnap is freaking out, and seems to believe that there is a credible threat against Dream if he leaves. Given Sapnap's previous relationship with Quackity, Dream is willing to believe he might know something and that alone makes him anxious enough that he wants to stay.

Sapnap gets more horrified the longer he's with Dream (Dream flinches under his touches, his fingers are gone, Dream makes a snide comment about Quackity when Sapnap asks about the scars,) and this only convinces him more that clearly he needs to be protecting Dream. Sapnap expresses a lot of fury towards Sam, and Dream doesn't have any good arguments against it. There's a lot of stuff that he just sorta, decided to ignore, and now that coming back up is messing with him.

They get into a brief yelling match when Dream gets tired of what he presumes is pity and fake behavior, and it ends with Sapnap holding Dream to keep him from leaving or collapsing.

(The irony(?) of Dream comforting Sapnap for most of his life only for them to switch places in this moment is not lost on him.)

He gets to snuggle with him under the covers and gets a kiss on the chin (Dream is half asleep, and thinking about how much he missed him.)

Meanwhile, Punz is going to Murder Sapnap.

Punz has no context for why Sapnap took Dream so he is assuming Sapnap is going to attempt to imprison Dream again (after failing to kill him) and while he is 100 percent confident in Dreams abilities he also is aware that Sapnap is one of Dreams People and therefore capable of hurting Dream emotionally. Hurting Dream is Not Allowed.

Sam is having a panic attack because Dream isn't within sight line and isn't with Punz and therefore everything is Wrong and Bad in his world.

When you finally get a confrontation between Sam and Sapnap (because at this point, they don't know that Sapnap knows about Punz, so Sam is going in first), Sapnap responds viciously, tearing into Sam both for the scars on Dream's body, but also stating he knew they were fucking, and there's no way that's even remotely acceptable given the position of power Sam had (he's not wrong. this is a true statement of fact for everything that occurred prior to the prison break. it's just that things got weird after that). Sam has no good rebuttal, and faced with violence from Sap, has to flee. He's left shaken from everything.

Dream: listen he may have enabled my torture and abuse, and starved and isolated me, and accepted sexual favors from me while being in a position of power over me But he's also a very sad wet cat of a man, and I'm a control freak

Punz tries to talk with Sapnap on slightly less,,, angry grounds? On his part. Knowing about the interaction with Sam, he feels better about the fact Dream is probably safe and Sapnap probably has good reason for what he's doing.

To be clear though, Sapnap is furious with Punz. Right out of the gate he reveals he knows Punz was involved. At first, he's assuming that Punz was paid off to help Sam, but Punz decides "fuck it" and reveals at least part of things. He explains he was working with Dream after the prison break, that he felt bad for betraying him, and that they had a relationship. Dream wanted to involve Sam post-prison, Punz was against it, but wanted Dream to be safe.

Sapnap: you're forcing him to do this! Punz: I DON'T EVEN WANT HIM TO BE DOING THIS Sam: >:(

Sapnap needs to take some time to processes that, but he then presses to clarify; Dream and Sam had a relationship while Dream was in prison? Yes.

Sam had a hand in the torture and Dream's condition? Also yes.

After he broke out, despite all of this, Dream still felt like he wanted to return to Sam? Yes.

Sapnap: And you LET him?!

Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, other than Dream is his own person, and Punz can't stop him from doing what he wants with his life. To which Sapnap responds, yes you can motherfucker

It's a very fundamentally rift in their two perspectives. Punz, particularly post-prison, couldn't morally justify restricting Dream or telling him how to life his life or cope. Sapnap, thinks that Dream was not in a position to make a choice like that.

Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, it's the exact thing he's been feeling guilty over. So he ends up leaving, Not for forever. Just to think.

Meanwhile, Dream overheard everything. He now understands what Sapnap is seeing as the "real issue" (or at least, the current threat at hand), and he knows that he's going to make his own choice here.

Dream: I understand that my decisions are problematic but have you ever considered that I've made my choices and will continue to make them, even if you don't agree Sapnap: NO

Dream tells Sapnap gently that he's leaving now. He wants to go back. Sapnap doesn't want him to, he makes fair arguments about how much Dream could be hurt here. Dream understands, but he's also an adult, and he's decided what he wants. He's forgiven his stupid creeper hybrid boyfriend. It might not make sense to, but he has. It's his choice in the end.

Sapnap doesn't like it, there's a long people where he's just holding Dream and in tears. He's apologized a lot. For leaving Dream there. He says it again for good measure. Dream gives him a soft kiss on the forehead and he doesn't say it's okay, but he does say that he loves him. That it will be okay.

Dream has to go now, but he promises to come back, they set a time and they get to just spend time together. Talking about things one at a time.

(Sapnap and Dream see each other a lot now, as he slowly enters Dream's life again. Occupying his space and checking up on him and fretting. They get more kisses, more cuddles in bed. Once a week they come back to their little cottage and grow something that isn't what they used to have, but its still good, and its full of love.)

Later, Dream will be reassuring Punz that he made the best choices he could make, sighing and pulling Sam out of his prison depression hole. Kidnapping once again proves to be a great way to solve problems.