#it actually seems that this body is what’s allowing him to be a sensitive soul to me

[babiesdreams]

Heyyy would you consider doing a Hyunjin reaction to finding out the reader, his gf/crush, attempted suicide in the past after experiencing SA

Scarred for life- Hwang Hyunjin.

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING: The content will be graphic and it will refer to sensitive matters such as suicide, Sexual assault and depression, if you're specially sensible to this content I recomend you don't read it. However I know how much it can help to those struggling with mental health to view their issues reflected in art, so I hope this helps you cope with it.

You take a deep breath. The water had been rising for a while now, it gets to cover your whole body, cleaning every inch of you. It's hard to simply move on from days like this. What are you supposed to do when you know his fingerprints are still fresh on your skin? You've cleaned it once, and twice, by this point your skin was sore, yet you could still feel it. You could still smell the distinctive perfume invading you, his breath against your neck and your wrists tired of trying to escape his grip.

You turn off the water. Letting it sit like a pool of memories. One that you're unable to escape from. You see your reflection on the shower head. Funny, how it distorts your face yet your own vision of yourself is so fucked up that it seems more real than what the mirror reflects. Tears fall down your eyes but you smile. You smile at your reflection as if you were smiling at him, or maybe smiling to a crowd, making sure nobody notices just how broken your soul is.

You close your eyes, all you can see is his face, all you can hear are his moans, his words, his dirty fucking words. Anger emergues through your body, like hot blood running through your veins. Rage, that's it. Rage, but not towards him, towards yourself. Why didn't you try harder? Why didn't you run? Why did you let yourself get there? Why just why? You did this to yourself, that's what they say.

You open your eyes and grab the razor blade. Now your mind is invaded with those anatomy book pages. You remembered the major veins and where they were located. And then, you proceeded. Your skin was soft. Probably because of the hot water, but maybe, because it was meant to be easy. You place the blade against your thigh skin. Your mind resticts your strength, only allowing a superficial cut.

But you go in again, this time pressing against your skin, it breaks as the blade passes through it. Blood comes out, like a chocolate coulant. It spreads, your skin. You drop the blade. Your head feels light, like if it was a dream.

You hear the door open, but you can't bring yourself to react. "Y/N" a scream makes you sort of come back, though it still feels dreamy in some way. "Oh my god. No" The boy's figure steps closer to your body. "No, no, no, no" You see his hands on his head trying to act as fast as he can. You can hear him calling 911. He checks your pulse, your cut.

At some point you feel your body levitating, getting closer to the ceiling. Then you feel his hands on your back and knees, lifting you up and putting you down on the floor. He gets towels. Bright white towels that get poisoned with your red blood, as he tries to stop the bleeding. "You're gonna be fine" You hear him say, though you're not sure if he's talking to you or himself. Then, your head gets even lighter and you finally faint.

Eventhough you can't really think you wish that they won't be able to save your life.

Hyunjin had been the loose end of your plan. You weren't used to have roomates, but since he needed a place to crash in for the week you couldn't deny it. After all you knew him since your were kids and there was something tragic in the way he had seen the cruel consequences of time hitting you.

It was hard to believe there were people that actually saw you smile and laugh genuinely. It seemed so distant, so... imposible. Yet he had seen it. He must have been surprised, shocked even. He didn't know about the incident as they liked to call it. And for sure your family had made an incredible effort to cover any sign of your mental health issues.

You open your eyes slowly. Tears fall down your cheeks instantly. You curse yourself for not dying. Your eyes lay on hyunjin's figure, he's horrified. "You are awake" He comments looking away. You smile at him. "I'm fine" You lie.

"Fine?" He shouts. "This" He says pointing at you. "This is fine to you?" You look the other way, to face the window, hoping you can get lost in the sky instead of hearing him. "Are you gonna act like it never happened?" He shouts, clearly angry. "It's easier that way" You whisper.

The hospital room wraps you on white, which, from a different perspective could be even pretty. "What did you say?" He screams. "It's easier? Look at me!" You turn your head again, facing him. He shows you his hands, covered in your own blood. "You think I can forget about this?!" You look at the ceiling. "Maybe you need therapy" You comment.

He chuckles. "Is this your way to cope with this? Joking?" You simply nod. "Well I'm not going until you explain" He says. His words make you sigh. It's so tiring going through a deep and detailed description of what happened. "I grabbed a blade and I applied pressure on my thigh" You say looking at him. "Happy?" You ask, he rolls his eyes at you and sits on the chair close to your bed.

He stays silent. You plot whether he knows how silent is louder than any sound. He probably does. "Last year" You start, still looking at the white ceiling. "I was sexually abused by a classmate" Tears start falling down your eyes again, though your voice remains emotionless.

"I can't wipe off the feeling of his dirty hands all over me. It haunts me. So I started scratching out the skin that he touched. Then cutting it. But now..." You sigh. "I can't live in this skin anymore. I'm too tired" He nods. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is filled with contained rage, you are familiar to how that sounds like.

"Why would you care?" You comment looking into his eyes. "I care more than you think" He simply comments. You chuckle. "I told you I'm not ready for love" You say, recalling the memory of his confession a couple of days ago. It felt almost too childish to think about crushes and love.

"And I understand why now" He says. "But loving you is not as selfish as asking you to date me. It's taking care of you when you need it. It can imply to collect the broken pieces of your heart and sew them back together myself" You chuckle. "You can't do that"

"I made you smile" He points out. "That's enough for me, at least for now. I'll help you find happiness so you can find yourself again" You roll your eyes "I don't think I would like me if I met me" He grabs your hand inside his. "I'll present her to you. Maybe we can all have dinner together. But not sushi, she hates it" You laugh lightly at his comment, somehow he created a genuine moment of happiness in your drowned heart.

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Masterlist

[mrstsung]

Hc time!

Shang tsung hcs

This is cary hiroyuki tagawa shang tsung. Mk11 and or 95 movie

🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍

There are Things i feel shang tsung would totally do or is willing to do.,most definitely. However whether or not he acts upon said things. Is context sensitive and depends entirely upon the relationship between you n him.

*An example. Shang i hc,doesn't initiate hugs at first to strangers,he will accept them wholeheartedly if you initiate. But he wont outright hug you,if he doesn't know you. But if you're the type to hug people,he will indulge. Give him time. A least a couple of weeks to get the feel of your vibes soul .

Scenario example. You greet him for the first time. You bow,handshake,and even hug him. He won't initiate a hug. He bows first,then a handshake. As proper greeting. If you hug him he will oblige,but he won't be the first one to outright hug as a greeting. But over time,he may greet you that way.

Hugs and other close proximity forms of affection are kinda intimate. He won't say no per say. But he won't be the one to initiate them until he feels comfortable with you enough. How long is various,who knows with that man. A couple of weeks should be enough. But it could be a few days. Or a few years. Or a few seconds. Who tf knows with that man.

He is absolutely touch starved tho(you can't convince me otherwise). That's why he allows it. But he's awkward ok?*

Again shang tsung is context sensitive as a character. But that's what makes him fun af to write. Endless possibilities,but he has a formula,method to his "madness",etc.

But here is more random hcs of mine of shang tsung:

Shang tsung would totally shapeshift into other characters to try to "sway your opinion of them" to get you more interested in him,joining him,etc. Whether you actually fall for this is all depending on you.

Like i said with the initial reaction to physical affection. He won't say no. But he may be flustered a bit by it. But once the ice is broken so to speak,over a period of time. He will initiate. And oh boy,this man is grabby grabby hands.

Shang tsung loves to pepper his lover in kisses. Especially from Behind.

Shang tsung absolutely CAN'T STAND STAYING DIRTY. like kombat is kombat,blood is blood. And shit happens. And you're gonna be messy. He is no stranger to this. But staying that way? For days?! Hell no. He NEEDS to bathe at some point or another otherwise he'll be grumpy af and not happy at all. A day or two without it,fine but that's the most he will feel comfortable with. Other than that he will be a a foul mood till he showers.

Shang tsung absolutely loves spicy food,but a reasonable amount. Unlike a certain thundergod . His fave spicy meal is a pork or beef noodle soup. He tends to eat it on special occasions,like lunar year or during tournaments.

He lives on an island so most of his diet would consist of seafood,tropical fruits foreign and domestic,and light but flavorful meals. But heavier foods he tends to only eat like i said during special occasions or on occasion. His fave fruit btw is melon,pineapple,mangos and peaches. And coconut. But not just for food but for hair,body care,etc. Very versatile. So if you give him any gifts,fruit is such a simple and sweet gesture to him.

Shang tsung really likes watching you. Not in a creepy way. But in a "i admire you,like a peice of art" kinda way. Like looking at a beautiful sunset,like he genuinely loves watching you. He's a people watcher definitely. But you,he just admires. Both up close and afar.

Shang tsung if he likes you. Like Genuinely loves you,is interested in you or wants to pursue you. NOBODY,NOT EVEN THE GODS WILL STOP HIM! also a surefire way to know. Is he kinda becomes mother hen around you. He starts saying things like "take a coat dear,or you'll catch a cold" or "ugh,let me do that/get that for you. You'll hurt yourself" "ugh so helpless" then proceeds to do it anyways because he care. He may seem nagging to those that don't know. But that's because those that do (more likely raiden) will see that shit and go *poggers* . Another way you'd know is he lets you do things that require "in close proximity" like tending his hair,helping him bathe or put on his armor,making him tea and bringing it to him. Pouring his wine. He trusts you with his well being. So yeah....he likes you. He loves you. Otherwise you wouldn't even be allowed to breathe in his direction that close.

Shang has a slightly softer bed than most that he grew up with(this man is over 500yrs old. So he's old old school chinese. However i feel shang tsung even for his time was kind of a progressive man. So traditional yes but not a bigoted dick ok?). Shang tsung was spoiled by the soft and silk beds in outworld when he got to be able to sleep in them. He has to have a ton of pillows and blankets. But he still prefers a slightly firmer bed. More like a medium firmness perhaps. I see shang tsung overall loving luxurious things. Of course this was all earned from his fights from tournaments past,rewards from his service once as shao Kahn's courtly mage,and even stolen profits that kollector gave him as tribute to offer for both being a mole and to keep his head and soul in tact.

Shang tsung likes soft light ambiance while sleeping. Sometimes he'll have a soul lantern nearby. But if you dont feel comfortable with that. He'll make them something more soothing. Like butterflies or fireflies. And the sounds will be more pleasant. Or he can silence them if that's better. The ocean waves and natural nature that can be heard throughout the island is soothing enough.

I hc shang tsung just has a natural aura of both absolutely calming energy and absolutely terrifying energy. He can either make you feel in absolute danger but too scared to move. Or....he can lull you,calm you,soothe you,and put your mind at ease. If it's genuine,this works wonders if you have anxiety(like moi). If he isn't genuine,and it's a means to an end. All the more to spread his influence. However.....you're special....so it's not likely the latter unless you're an enemy. But you're his beloved...so count your blessings.

Speaking of which,if you're his beloved nobody in their right mind would harm you. Or their souls would be absolutely taken.

Also shang tsung could read me anything and I'd be happy. I feel most people agree. Also i hc he loves books and loves to read. He loves to sniff books. I know weird. But yeah. You ever smell a good book? Like an old book? Good shit right there.

Shang tsung smells like incense,old books and scrolls,and some other indescribable scent. Something that is sort of an aphrodisiac that is very enticing. What that is specifically depends entirely upon the individual. And it can change or vary depending on the person and if he wants it to be something gentle and inviting. Or something horrible and terrifying(he literally smells dangerous) or he will have a smell that will absolutely make you randy. Either way that man's natural cologne is intoxicating af. He doesn't really need any perfumes,those are for you my dear. Not him. Tho he may use them on occasion if he needs to feel...."cleaner" flesh pits,alchemy,and the trials of kombat are no joke honey.

I may write some more,maybe specific things. But for now enjoy.

🥰💚🐍

[secretwhumplair]

A sunny afternoon

999 words | Mirai and the serpent king (sequel to Bedtime)

Content | Slavery, fear, Mirai's voice thing

Notes | Just a nice sunny afternoon, what could go wrong?

Taglist | @yet-another-heathen @echo-goes-aaa @whumpinator @neverthelass

Eshihir had a kingdom to run, but there was only so far he could contain his curiosity. He had resolved to give the new elf at least a week to settle in before he called upon him; but nothing stopped him from making time in the afternoon, three days after Mirai had arrived, to walk the sweet things in the park.

He made a point of doing it regularly; he didn’t want them to be confined inside all the time. Of course he could have tasked the guards with it—and had at times when he was very busy—but it was a joy to him, being surrounded by so much beauty, his gardens and his harem both.

He didn’t make them come, of course, but most of them enjoyed their little outings.

When he knocked on the door and asked, »I’m going to the gardens, do you wish to join me?«, he kept his eyes on Mirai as stealthily as he could. The little thing was sitting next to Aravia, playing cards with her and her usual group, and gave them an insecure look; they reassured him quickly, Aravia taking him by the hand. It was charming to see.

He led the way outside, Izara skipping along next to him, a mode of locomotion as foreign and delightful to Eshihir as a little bird hopping. He was, it seemed, barely containing himself not to run ahead.

They went down to the swimming pool, and spread out over the grass and in the water. Eshihir lounged half in, half out of the water, in the sun, resting his head on his body and watching his beauties.

Aravia’s blue-black skin and Shasha’s dark, iridescent scales right next to each other where they played in the water made a gorgeous picture; he liked having them both together, superficial as it was. Hishil, as usual, had gone for a lazy soak, his powerful body half-submerged and quiet. Udelfyr stayed in the shade, his pale skin sensitive to the sun, but marched around the pool as far as the trees would allow him. Dasshila climbed a tree, twisting playfully between the branches, and Ikkira raced around the pool before splashing into it, laughing.

Mirai, though, had paused shyly at the edge of the pool, clearly uncertain, like he always was. There were braids in his hair, now, five of them coming together at the back. Someone must have told him it was alright to do them—Eshihir regretted not having remembered it himself—he probably wouldn’t have dared without command or reassurance.

»Mirai, little one,« he softly called. »Come sit with me.«

Mirai flinched, just a little, gave him a fearful look and came over.

»Sit,« Eshihir repeated when he simply stood there, eyes cast down.

Mirai hastily sat down on the water’s edge, then hesitantly dipped his legs into the water. The bruises on his arms and thighs had started to fade, and Eshihir had to stop himself from examining them. They were going to be alright, and he didn’t want to frighten the little one.

»How have you been?«

»Well, Master. Thank you, Master.«

Eshihir smiled. »Tell me more, little thing.«

Mirai seemed startled by the prospect. »You’ve been very generous.«

»I know. That’s not what I mean, though.« He looked Mirai earnestly in the face. »Are you comfortable? Are you getting along with the others?«

Mirai nodded eagerly. »They’ve been very kind. I, um… I’m well, I really am.« This time, he looked up and actually met Eshihir’s eye, if only for a moment. »It’s… different. I’m still getting used to it. I…« he hesitated, licked his lips, then quietly said, »I’m not used to everything being so nice. I’m still… my soul is still learning how to- how to handle it.«

He stared down into the water, and Eshihir watched him, touched. He liked making their lives better, and had succeeded practically every time—the bar was never high. Still, it was a pleasure every time. Mirai would be okay, despite his anxiety, despite the bruises on his thighs. He said it out loud, barely. »You’ll be okay.«

Mirai hugged himself, and nodded awkwardly into the pool. »Yes, Master.«

In the meantime, Izara had climbed onto one of the lower branches of Dasshila’s tree, where it reached into the sun, her arms hovering above him as if she didn’t trust his ability to hold himself up there (which Eshihir couldn’t fault her for; legs always seemed so awkward), and now started to sing. It was nothing in particular, just the almost bird-like song he broke into when he was, Eshihir had learned, at ease and happy. It warmed his heart.

Then his eyes returned to Mirai, only to see him shrunk together, almost doubled over, his eyes, too, fixed on Izara.

»Mirai?«

He flinched, and turned away as if scolded, and in the movement, Eshihir saw the wet spark in his eye.

»Does the singing bother you?«

»No! No, it’s—I’m glad for him.« His voice was thick with emotion, and then Eshihir realized.

»Oh. Oh, Mirai.« He reached out a hand and rubbed Mirai’s shoulders; Mirai briefly shrunk away fromt he touch before he stilled, and let it happened.

He didn’t know what to say; he didn’t know enough about elven culture and what all that singing really was about. »You’ll find other ways to express yourself,« he ventured, quietly.

»Yes, Master.« Mirai’s voice was barely more than a sob. He straightened himself, and then, to Eshihir’s great surprise, asked, »May I leave, Master?«

»Go.« He wasn’t going to be strict on the little thing when he was already so upset.

Mirai went and sat on the opposite side of the pond, all curled in; Eshihir was glad to see Aravia swim over and sit with him.

Shasha, left unsupervised, swam over to the tree and struck at Izara from out of the water, pulling him in screaming and laughing, and that was the end of the song.

[burgerrat]

Alright so... let's talk about this scene

(Fair warning I will be talking a lot under the thread cut and might touch on some sensitive topics. TW for s/icide mentions)

Oh boy where do I even start- this entire rainstorm scene is charged with emotions man. The music, the ambiance, the facial expression of each actor, their body language. Everything right down to the bone is terrific. It almost completely drags you into the mind of the characters, mainly- Winslow and Swan.

I don't need to say much but the entire scene is practically Swan purposefully hurting Winslow further and taking great enjoyment in watching him suffer. PLUS TRAGIC IRONY how the song 'Old Souls' Phoenix sang a moment earlier brought joy to Winslow and a smile on his face as he watched her perform, and now that same song is being used to passive-aggressively make a mockery of him as Swan gets intimate with Phoenix.

I cannot BEGIN to tell you how these facial expressions made me feel:

At first when he initially positions himself on the glass, he looks almost like he's in disbelief of what he's seeing. Like he's shocked to see Phoenix willingly getting intimate with Swan. There's also something I can only describe as a feeling of yearning in his look? It's quite obvious that he wants to be there instead.

He cares for Phoenix- tried to warn her and is completely aware that Swan is just using her. Especially after being sealed into his own room and seeing Beef perform his music instead of her. He knows Swan doesn't give a shit about him or what he wants. He made the mistake of reluctantly trusting this snake once again, only to be tricked again. Now potentially putting in danger an innocent lady he cared for that just wanted to sing.

I know a picture is not the same as watching the scene in motion- but here in this part you can that, no pun intended, how he looks and his body language seem as if he just got stabbed through the heart, long before actually doing it himself.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, theys and thems, is where I broke down:

It's amazing how much a mostly-masked face with only one eye visible can convey so much emotion. You can even see in the first picture Winslow's lightly biting his lip as if trying to hold in his tears.

It's hard to pin-point it in the scene because it's raining, but if you pay attention to the shine in his eye, you can conclude that he does begin to cry. Tries holding it in for a short moment, but it's too much to bottle up.

Intentional or not, the amount of details and the little things all spread around in this scene leave me beyond speechless. It's so like... raw and beautiful.

In this one moment, I feel that all the rage, indignantion and desperation to be recognized for his work leave Winslow for a second- and all that's left is his pain and regret. Because of the realization that Swan, his supposite work partner, lied to him again and he got played again; because Swan never intended to credit his work or respect his wishes, now going a step further and humiliating him (Winslow probably being fully self-aware Swan knows he's watching them since he's facing up to the glass, and he himself never tries to hide or make his presence unknown) by making love to Phoenix, his voice; because of how unaware Phoenix is to who she's dealing with and him possibly having doomed her by allowing Swan to hire her.

And despite how much he may want to undo it and help her see Swan for who he really is, he can't. After all, Swan is the respected owner of the Paradise that has granted her to become a rockstar; he's just the masked 'freak' with a stained reputation that is now only known for murdering Beef and the Juicy Fruits, he's not exactly the one people would want to side with immediately.

He can't do anything but watch.

I feel it's this sense of powerlessness and dehumanization that drive him to give up entirely and committing suicide soon after.

[spnfic85]

First Comes Love... (Ch. 5)

WARNINGS: 18+ -Minors DNI ‼️- Fluff, so much fluffs.  

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: I have been a sad panda! This is still my feel good drabble I am claiming as an actual piece. I never want to stop and I really want to write more in detail small moments... Imagine papa Thor at a baby boutique o.o *squee*

Summary: Thor takes you on a little venture <3

Masterlist

Chapter 5

4 Weeks Later

            The morning sunlight was overcast and gray this morning. The bedroom was still dim, as if it was still early dawn, but your phone didn’t lie when its alarm went off. Thor’s hand splayed protectively over your belly while he slept, and when the alarm went off, he groaned and pulled you closer to him.

            “Don’t leave me today, let’s just cuddle.” He offered with a smirk. You wriggled your bottom against him and giggled when he reacted so quickly before you rolled away and reached over to shut off the alarm.

            “As much as we would love to, we still have adult lives to live… And I have endless errands to complete today.” You sighed and winked at him. Thor pouted a bit before reaching down again to your belly and greeting the little souls that resided there.

            “Good morning little ones, daddy loves you.” He murmured against your belly.

            Thor had become fascinated with the growth of your babies and would regularly harass Bruce and Tony for any other information. It got to the point that Tony downloaded a pregnancy tracking app on Thor’s phone so that he could read about it every day. You enjoyed watching him fascinated as he read new facts every morning and kissed him deeply before slipping from the bed and heading to the bathroom.

            As the shower warmed, you undressed and looked at yourself in the mirror, turning to your side. For yourself, you could see the slight change. Feel the change in jeans and the slight squeeze you now had to do in your work clothes. But you felt like you simply looked bloated, with slightly better breasts. Warm broad hands wrapped around your middle section, and you smiled at Thor’s reflection as he kissed your shoulder gently.

            “I see a glowing beautiful woman who carries my children… Stop the morning assessment my petal.” He murmured already knowing what you were doing in the mirror. “Soon you will complain when you no longer see your feet or wonder how your belly will grow any larger.” Thor smiled at you lovingly in the mirror before leading you to the warm shower to wash up and get ready for the day.

            Thor had a way of making everything around you feel magical… The way he touched you, how he made sure to clean you first, with gentle hands and the most careful of touches. It was as if you were his goddess and he the enraptured mortal… Thor knelt in the shower to wash your feet and legs, looking up at you impishly before kissing up your plush thigh to your core. To have the god of thunder and fertility at your feet… worshiping the most intimate core of your being… It almost seemed a game of his to make you stay quiet, so your voice didn’t ricochet off the walls of the shower.

            This game continued throughout the week, and for the remainder of the day you barely saw your love as you worked on a lower floor managing paperwork and media. Tony trusted you to handle the more sensitive information and to also brief all media contacts before and after interviews or news coverage. All the while, you had been fiercely protective of your personal relationships, and although you did not allow unprofessional visits, were surprised that Thor had yet to find a reason to come to your office.

            As your morning wrapped up, your belly growled with the reminder that half a bagel was not enough for a body growing two little Asgardian twins. It wouldn’t hurt to pop down to the bodega on the corner and grab something warm. It was still autumn, the air crisp and cool but not frigid. Perfect for a quick walk. You slipped from your desk, grabbing your coat and phone before heading out the office door.

            You nearly walked face first into Thor’s chest, making him drop his phone as he hung up with someone, choosing to save you instead.

            “Petal! I’m so sorry- are you okay?” He asked attentively, looking you over, “Were you about to leave?” He asked kneeling to grab his phone.

            You smiled at him and nodded, “Just wanted to grab something for brunch, I realized I hadn’t eaten much this morning and I’m dying without coffee.” You groaned and he chuckled softly.

            “Well, I cannot solve your coffee issue, but I would be more than happy to take you out for brunch?” He offered with a sheepish smile.

            “Do you think we should?” You asked unsure, “Paparazzi can sniff you out a mile away babe.”

            Thor scoffed and kissed you gently, “Let them. It’s time we let the world know. They’ve been guessing it for eons, they’ll need to see you sooner or later… You are mine and I am yours. I will love you even when the world forgets our names and we are dust among the stars…” He murmured softly.

            Your breath hitched in your throat, and you felt a familiar sting behind your eyes. You sniffed and smiled at him as he panicked, realizing you were about to cry, “Oh no- no my petal, I am so sorry. Please don’t cry.” He said, wiping the small tears from the corners of your eyes. You laughed softly and shook your head,

            “You are too poetic Thor Odinson, my hormones just react.” You teased and kissed him back sweetly, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Never stop speaking to me that way, sir.” You made a bratty face, and he chuckled close.

            Thor put out his arm for you to take it and patted your hand gently once you gripped close, before heading you to the front elevator and down out the main entrance of Stark Tower. You normally slipped out a side door easily enough, never being a well-known Avenger helped in that. Very few people ever knew when you were on a mission, let alone those you worked with. If you had done your job poorly, those famed Avengers may have never come home…

            Walking out the front doors on the arm of one of the most beloved hunks on the team was… a surprise to say the least. Thor smiled at the cameras and walked you dotingly down to the car waiting in front. He opened the passenger door for you, kissing your hand before letting you slide in the front seat. You got comfortable, pulling out your phone, expecting him to take a few moments for fans and was surprised to look up to see Thor taking a photo with a small child before apologizing to the others, and excusing himself into the driver’s seat.

            “Babe, you didn’t want to say hi?” You asked confused. Thor normally doted on his fans and loved to make others happy with ‘such a simple thing’ as a photo or signature. But today he only stopped for the child… He shrugged as he started the car, both of you waving to the people outside as he pulled away.

            “I make time for fans. But right now, I would like to take the mother of my children out to brunch.” He looked over at you and winked. You blushed and smiled out the window, the man always knew how to make you feel so special…

            Thor drove for some time, getting on the highway out of the main city. He refused to tell you where you were going, but only made you wait about twenty minutes before pulling up to a small swanky “Olde Towne” style main street. There was old brick worked buildings lining the road, with wide sidewalks and decorative flower planters scattered down the length. Thor parked along an old café and hopped out to help you out carefully.

            “I found this place on accident a couple weeks ago. I’ve been wanting to take you ever since.” He said happily, opening the door to the café for you before following in. The café was lined with old records, some signed, some with photos of musicians. The ambiance was shadowy and warm, like how one would imagine a bear felt about its own burrow.

            A staff member hurried up to seat the two of you, clearly knowing who your partner was but eyeing you curiously. It was not offensive, but they were curious about you. You thanked them warmly and ordered a hot cider while you both read over the small, neat brunch menus handed to you as you sat. There were about six options you wanted to try, and you groaned wondering if Thor would be mortified at your hunger.

            “How do I choose babe?” You asked softly. Thor arched a brow, looking up from his menu and grinned at you.

            “We can get more than one thing. We live with the Hulk part time, my dear. Bruce will surely help with anything brought back.” He winked and we both looked back as the staff member had tripped over themselves at the mention of Bruce’s name. You grinned at Thor when the kid, because that’s what they were- no older than seventeen, slyly pulled out their phone to snap a photo.

            “We can definitely do that.” You laughed, “But what brought you out here a couple weeks back? I don’t have any paperwork for a job out here?” You asked curiously. Thor flushed and he chuckled softly.

            “Ah- well, shopping in the city can be… difficult, to say the least. I hate how the things sometimes look nothing the same on the websites, so I came out to the shop myself to look at things.” He chuckled, still a twinge crimson.

            “Whaaaaat sort of things my sweet god?” You teased, your hand reaching out for his, those large fingers instantly grasping yours.

            “Firstly, there was a most precious baby shoppe here. I must take you there after we are done here. Secondly…? Ah well… Some craftmanship can only be appreciated truly in person…” He smiled, keeping my gaze as the staff came up with your warm drinks, ready to take your order.

            Thor let you order first, before breaking eye contact to look up at the teen with a charming smile, “What’s your favorite breakfast item on the menu?” He asked sincerely curious. The kid rambled off a few of their favorites and Thor nodded, “All of those then. We will sample and bring whatever back home.” He winked and thanked them kindly.

            You giggled into your mug as the kid practically scrambled to the back kitchen to tell the cook the order. You both listened as the cook made them repeat the guest before a small clang was heard as something fell over.

            “Look at you.” You teased Thor, “Giving those poor people heart attacks with your presence.” You winked and he leaned over the table and kissed you deeply.

            Your brunch was absolutely delicious, and Thor was right, there were always people back home who would happily help clear fresh leftovers from the fridge. By the time Thor paid and tipped handsomely, the teen’s best friend had appeared in the opposite end table of the café and was seen squealing excitedly in the little hall to the break room when they came back with the selfie Thor graciously took with them.

            Once back outside, you dropped our food in the car before taking his hand and walking along the beautiful, cobbled walkway, enjoying the small-town ambiance as Thor lead you to a small baby boutique. Inside the owner greeted you both warmly, acting as if she had never once watched the news, allowing you both to wander the shoppe like a “normal” couple, picking out small baby things in neutral colors in sets of two.

            Thor showed you the sigil on the inside of the baby clothing. The iron-on tag inside carried the rune of protection by Odin. It was on all the baby clothing, worked into the emblem of the store name. “This is why I came out here. It is rare to find someone who believes as I do, but I wanted to see it in my hand first.” He murmured and ran his hands over the small onesie.

            You smiled to yourself as he held the small thing, wondering how small his children would look in the coming year in his hands. Your stomach did a flip, and you bit your lip as the realization you were pregnant with his children dawned over you for the millionth time this week again.

            When you both walked to the front to check out, the store clerk looked at you both surprised, “Twins?” she asked excitedly, and you nodded with a matching smile. “Congratulations! Do you know the genders yet?”

            “No, not quite, but I have an inclination.” You winked and thought back to the dreams you’ve been having the past month. The woman nodded knowingly,

            “I was the same with all five of mine. Never was wrong once, so listen to your gut.” She smiled and folded the small items neatly. As Thor swiped the card, we noticed the small group of teens who now lingered nearby, peeking around shops.

            “I believe they’ve sniffed us out.” Thor chuckled and took your hand. You both thanked the woman and took a breath before slipping back out on to the sidewalk. These kids weren’t like the ones who waited out in front of the tower. No one yelled for either of you, they gave you space. But they were clearly following the pair of you as Thor guided you to another shop, a bookstore this time, before murmuring he would be right back and slipping back outside.

            You eyed him suspiciously as he walked farther up the road but held your baby bags and looked along the expecting parents’ side, choosing a couple, before finding yourself in the supernatural fiction corner. You were a sucker for vampires, ghosts, and spooks alike. What was teenaged romance without a forbidden werewolf love? You snorted to yourself and read the inside covers of a few before selecting one and buying your small stack.

            In the fifteen minutes it had taken you to find a seat, Thor arrived back- slightly out of breath. “Did you find anything you wanted?” he asked, grinning, and kissing you when he saw your small pile. You wanted to press where he went, but that was when the real paparazzi finally caught up to your location and snapped the first photo from the storefront window. Thor grinned again and sat down with you, opening one of the expecting books and peeking over the top to the camera aimed at you both.

Tony was going to kill you when this hit the media.

Chapter 6 Teaser

Chapter 6

[the-starry-lycan]

Living Glass Lore Headcanons

Living Glass Headcanon Lores:

How does Living Glass work exactly? It's based off normal glass, though Resh'an modifies its density with his alchemy, and by altering its chemical structure some, allows it to enter a state which ensures it has some fluidity. The magic holding it together is derived from the will and the life-force of the being encased in the glass - essentially, as long as the entity within possesses strong enough will, it "powers" the glass, keeps it alive, and allows the being possessing it to use it as a vessel. Additionally, such shifting density means that the Living Glass is extremely durable and absorbs shock easily - though one can still be wounded through the glass, hence how B'st can be hurt and KO'd in battle. Living Glass itself is composed of similar silicate materials as normal glass, though its sheen and color is taken from quartz derivates. Resh'an likely imagined one could create different colors in it by using crystal impurities found in common gemstones (like the chromium + vanadium that makes emeralds green), and the plain glass has a green tinge like sea glass. However, to make it "living", the Glass contains crystal filaments, akin to the striations found in Lemurian Quartzes, though these are actual nervelike filaments of enchanted metal, preferably of silver-tungsten alloy, which carry the magic and electric signals that allow for one to really control and manipulate the form of the Glass. These metallic filaments also are what allows the being to feel with the Glass, as the magic surrounding the glass transforms outward stimuli to electrical impulse, and the metal filaments carry this similarly to the way nerves in the human body do with action potential. These filaments are so fine that they aren't visible to the naked eye.

The density I mentioned earlier because of Reshy's reeeeaaaaally complex magic that I won't go into because magic? It can be somewhat counteracted by temperature. B'st likely feels sluggish and fatigue in the cold because the Living Glass gets stiffer and solid (due to molecular shenanigans) - and he likely feels more frisky and active in the heat because the Glass gets more liquid and motile (more molecular shenanigans).

Living glass, obviously, can feel. B'st is able to move the stuff around and manipulate his body, and he can feel pretty well through it. What sensations can he feel? Well, temperature I imagine. Pain, too, but that's a little tough to induce in Glass Golem - he also seems impervious to most damage, as in B'st sprites we see that he does not crack. He was also able to take a hit from the Fleshmancer in Garl's place, and recover fine, so I'd imagine it takes a lot to cause B'st much pain. He can feel other feelings like pleasure and all manner of textures on the glass, just the way skin feels texture. Perhaps heat can make the Living Glass more sensitive, and if B'st chooses to prime the Glass, alter its structure some to try and concentrate the little nervelike fibers that allow him to control it - he can feel sensations more intensely. This makes the sensitive Glass good when dealing with dexterous jobs that require a lot of precision.

What does Living Glass feel like to touch? Probably feels like normal glass, but less stiff and definitely more pliant. Smooth in texture, and unless B'st is hurt or feeling bad, there'd be no cracks or surface roughness. Ultimately, it probably feels a tad like putty or molding clay, but.. more glassy? It's a weird feeling to imagine, as it's hard to imagine handling glass that isn't at risk of shattering with a distictive stiff-sharpness. Also, I imagine that if there isn't a soul inside the Glass, it turns into a sort of.. dry, silky powder, similar to a fine sand or igneous stone dust.

(Deep breath) Okay, there we are with all my ideas about how the Living Glass works! It's not really gone into during the game, so I used my brainpower to make an entire insane rambling about it :) It's a million words long and congrats if you make it to the bottom!

[hypahticklish]

Ticklish Headcanons for

DnD Honor Among Thieves

Listen…I love the shit out of this movie and if I had more expendable funds I would go see it again in theatres to bask in the good good vibes. This goes out to @amazingmsme for banging on pots to rouse the TTRPG Podcast branch of the TFB community from it's winter hibernation. Please ignore that it's taken me months to get this out ✌️😅

Edgin

Bardic School of Lee Moods

Edgin is the kind of lee who will instigate for that sweet sweet retaliation

Which is so so very foolish for someone with a terribly ticklish torso

Sides that make him fold like a cheap tunic, belly that makes him gasp for breath, ribs that have him swearing fealty to whom or what ever is demanded of him

Like seriously? What did he think was gonna happen when he flicks Simon's ears or scatters Holga's potato cache?

Or when he presses Dorick and Xenk's buttons by talkin' mad shit about their respective organizations?

And then has the audacity to dial up the drama in staunch protest at the torture inflicted upon him

Have I made it clear how much of a goofy lil guy, what a silly lil brat Edgin is?

With his crinkled crows feet eyes and a smile so bright it makes the Neverwinter sun seem dull

But but but

While he lives deep in the Lee trenches, he enjoys giving lil tickles here and there as a form of affection

As well as introducing others to the joys of tickling and inviting them to explore it on him

Taking the time to encourage when they've found a good spot and guiding them toward more effective techniques

Freely and generously leaning in to his reactions, and inspiring theirs; seeking laughter just as he does song (though Edgin argues they're one in the same to his ears)

Holga

Totem Switch Barbarian

Most assume that Holga is a ler of the highest degree since she can turn any table in her favor, but she loves receiving as much as giving

She adores easily hoisting and grappling her play partner into a submissive hold

And plucking all the silly noises they make from all the tickle spots she can find

While her grip may be firm and holds taut, her touch ranges from soul scrubbing to breeze kissed depending on what gets the best reactions

However

If someone is fast enough to tickle her back before they're trapped?

She crumbles endearingly quick

Her most ticklish spots are the easiest to normally defend - under her arms, behind her knees, the circumference where her legs join the rest of her body

Holga is so very aware of her strength that she makes concerted efforts to not flail or fight when getting got

And while she's usually distrustful of being bound, she finds it helpful and a relief in these sorts of situations with her true friends

Allowing her to let go and fall like a comet into the moment

Cackling, happily and wildly, for as long as the moment lasts

Simon

Ancestral Switch Bloodline Sorcerer

Simon gives off such lee energy which makes him like a sleeper agent switch that no one expects

Can he actually say any variant of the word "tickle"? That's entirely dependent on his proximity to being tickled

Or teased

Simon cannot handle being teased in the slightest, becoming a bumbling blushing mess

Soft n squishy lil spellcaster with his tender legs and uncalloused feet that make him helplessly squirm

His sensitive ears and neck that melt him to quivering giggling goo

Should he get the upper hand though? He is ruthless

Cooing and toying with whomever is trapped, either by spells or comrades, and drawing slow attention to their vulnerability before studying their every reaction

An absolute menace of a man utterly inebriated on laughter

"Oh shut up, you're not dying, I cast Detect Thoughts and know you're fine"

Dorick

Circle of Ler Druid

It takes her quite a while to come out of her shell but once Dorick does, she's a devastating ler

Equipped with nimble fingers that can easily slip into all sorts of ticklish nooks and crannies

A dexterous whip thin tail that gives her quite the advantage when startling those used to only worrying about two hands

And unshakable confidence that defies any sort of embarrassment when hunting for peels of squeals

Speaking of hunting, you know Dorick gets the biggest thrill out of chasing and hide-n-seek

Flexing her wild shapes to delight and frighten her friends while draining the fight outta them

Does she have a signature move?

Oh yea

Pouncing on their back and taking then down

Making it all the easier to ensnare her mark with tickle torture until they tap out

Where she can then spend her time in peaceful silence, watching the scenery while idly stroking their scalp and back

Xenk

Oath of Turnabout Paladin

Like everything about Xenk, he is an utter enigma that the party can never figure out

And likewise it takes him a while to determine when they want him to rise to the bait and engage in play fights

(Not that that ever stops the party from starting them)

He's incredibly ticklish damn near everywhere but most of his reactions are subdued, internal, compared to the others

Soft snickers and squinchy eyes and slight curls away from his assailant betray the perceived immunity

Meanwhile his heart and belly flip at the waves upon waves of ticklish butterflies fluttering head to toe

But Xenk always comes next in the initiative

And is a mirror - replicating their tickling ministrations practically perfectly

Tutting when someone cries at how unfair he is being by holding them accountable for their "crimes"

And congratulating them afterwards for valiantly overcoming such a challenge while they're panting on the floor

[daydreamerdrew]

Shade, the Changing Man (1990) #4

[husbandohunter]

You know ur small predicament post?? you should make a reverse version where s/o is smaller!

A Smaller Predicament [Genshin Impact x Smol!Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Not only did you shrink, you went pocket sized as well!

(A sequel to "A Small Predicament")

(A/n): Sorry for the long wait anon, and I kind of added a twist to the scenario for more diversity hahaha hope you don't mind >_<. And why is Childe the poster boy for this series lmao.

------------

Childe

When Childe walks in, he doesn't see you....until he looked down. He almost crunched you beneath his feet if it weren't for your constant flailing of arms and screeching voice. He blanks out for a hot minute as you clung onto his toes, doesn't dare to move an inch because he's so petrified (even though there's nothing to be afraid of??). But honestly if Childe moved right now, he might accidentally flail you to the side and that's the last thing he wants.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??" He screamed so loud it nearly blew you out of proportion. Seems like he's going to have alot of adjusting to do. Childe is a tall man (canonically the tallest) and he knows how impulsive he can get which is why he bought a handmade dollhouse from one of the Liyue merchants for you to stay in.

Though there's something about your tiny size that makes his heart flutter. With your face so small with a pair of eyes far too big, *clutches chest* "My oujo-chan is so cute" -Childe probably. He won't stop saying them over again and you were growing tired of his gushing reactions. He can't help it. He wants to spoil you rotten. You fit right onto the flat of his palms, the way you just snuggle up againts his finger and he just- swoons, might tear up (bruh).

Toys may be for kids but for Childe it was now his favourite pass time. While you navigate around the wooden dollhouse, he pitches in by moving around the furniture to make it easier for you. Offers to carry you through the rooms like a personal elevator. And please, please let him tuck you to bed. He has to pinch his fingers to grab the blanket. It's so adorable to him.

Loves it when you snuggle up against his collar. He thinks it would be the best area for you to be nearby him since the risk of you getting hit by anything (or him) by accident is very slim chance. Sometimes he pulls up his collar so that you're more comfortable and cradled within. He would have to avert his eyes down rather than turning his head if he wanted to look at you otherwise you'd be hit by his chin and that would hurt.

The poking sensation with you by his neck can bother him since he's veeeery tickilish there. Plus, Childe can get easily sweaty so have fun with that.

You have a feeling that he wasn't so pleased when you transformed back. You might be right. Actually, you are right. He secretly has an extra potion hidden somewhere...just in case.

Diluc

Mortified, his soul just left his body. To think things couldn't get any worse ever since he turned into a child to the point no one took him seriously, now you're literally the size of an apple. Oh god what if his bird suddenly swoops in and gobbles you right up? Or the wrath of the wind comes by, swirling you away towards a tornado. Needless to say, Diluc grew paranoid over your well-being ever since.

Due to your extremely small size, he will ensure that you are supervised by him (except at night where he has places to go). In otherwords, you're slipped into the inner pocket of his coat. It's super warm, you can fall asleep (and feel his heartbeat awww). Diluc doesn't like keeping you in places where people can see you, it would be too easy for outer things to access your tiny form (or maybe he secretly likes the feeling of you in his pocket.)

And he's such a gentleman about it. You noticed how careful he moves among his footsteps because he's worried that you might get dizzy. Diluc guards the pocket at close parameter, keeping an eye on things so he won't bump into them. As if he was treading on thin ice (you even suggested it was best to leave you home but he's too overprotective for his own good).

You're like his little assistant. Diluc does so much paperwork through out the day and although the act was small, he finds it endearing how you would help bring the papers back to it's rightful pile or pushing the ink bowl towards him. Or during his shifts at Angel's Share, crawling around the glass utensils and trying to find a specific wine beverage on his shelf. Of course that only happens when the shop is closed, how is he going to explain to his patrons that you shrank and now live in his pocket?

He dislikes the thought of you wandering too far. It's so easy for you to get lost especially when the mansion is so large.

At night you now sleep atop the fluff of the pillow. Diluc is a calm sleeper so he won't have to worry about hitting into you. However he radiates warmth so you just subconicously roll towards to his face. He usually wakes up with you sprawled over his nose. He can hardly breath (careful, he might just sneeze too).

This all happened because of the experiements you participated with Albedo. Diluc ensures that doesn't happen again. It will take some tencaious effort to convince him otherwise.

Scaramouche

Fuck this guy. He treats you like his new pet, a new toy (though you technically are one). He has this arrogant, smug and sadistic look as if he was a predator looking at his prey and grabs you by the collar before dangling you up in the air.

"Hmph, looks like the tables have turned," he says while toying with your state. You tell him he's just angry because he's short himself and mad that everyone else in the Fatui organization is taller than him. Scaramouche demon face activated. He's about to devour you. (Maybe you should keep your mouth shut this time. Honestly your relationship with him is pretty weird).

His hat is so fun to play with. You'd swing around like Tarzan using the strings that were hanging from it. His head was your playground now which annoys him to an enourmous extent because it makes him look ridiculous. Scaramouche will have a hard time catching you since you move around so much. Climb around him, especially the back of his neck. He'll start wheezing when you tickle him there.

The type to put you in a box but also the type to keep you on his shoulders. Being relied on makes him feel taller (lmfao). Scaramouche seemse to have developed a habit to poke your cheeks whenever he needed your attention and you bit him back once when he pushed too hard that you nearly fell off. Despite your size, your teeth still hurt. He threatens to put you back into the box if you don't behave and the outcome ends with a full out brawl as he tries to grab you again while you run around, pulling the strands of his hair to climb on top of his hat. (This is literally Tom and Jerry wtf.)

After transforming back, he outwardly admits his disappointmen. Scaramouche says it suits you better (when he actually meant that he highly prefers you small). You marked his words, keeping an extra vial for your own entertainment in the near future.

Xiao

Xiao was face-palming against his forehead real hard about this. For the love of Rex Lapis, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? First it was the child incident, now you're the size of his finger? Good grief, looks like he will have to keep an eye on you from now on but at the same time he's scared to get too close, you are nothing but a tiny mortal in which he would have to double his effort to look after.

He lets you sit at the crown of his head rather than anywhere else. You insisted since it was easier to see everything at a nice distance (plus he's short so you won't have to worry about him bumping into door frames). You noticed that Xiao also has a little strand sticking out from the center (ahoge) and you sometimes grab onto it for stability. Turns out he's quite sensitive there and winces when you pull too hard.

For the remaining week as the antedote was being prepared, Xiao became extremely aggressive over your well-being, he looks as if he's ready to massacre everything in his way...which he did. Clears out the monsters off the path before going on daily strolls with you, you wouldn't have to lift a finger from now on. No one except for him is allowed to hold you unless they're a trustworthy person. You could feel his sharp eyes glued on you like a hawk when walking into the grasp of Zhongli's hand.

You once accidentally tripped into his almond tofu when he wasn't looking and he almost ate you. Turns out being small made his job as your gaurdian ten times harder (especially when you're the clumsy type). If you were to fall off the table, he would have to catch you right? Xiao often bumps into furnitures in the process...ouch!

He's very soft. It's all over his forehead, his mouth, his eyes. When he looks at you, his tense eatures melted away and there's an invisible fondness over them as he cradles you in his palm. The way you snuggle in them is lke the most precious thing in the world.

When you turn back, there's a wave of relief. He was really stressed out you know?

Zhongli

His first thought is to get you as far as he can from the Funeral Parlour before Hu Tao finds you. Who knows what that child might have in mind. Zhongli takes one of his empty tea pots and urges you to go inside, or carries a tea cup with you in it, he likes placing you on objects while carrying you around.

Zhongli realizes that you can no longer use the household items like before so he has to remake them to your standards- especially when he realized he doesn't have the mora to buy you a dollhouse. He improvises. Takes a handkerchief to make your blanket, his cups for your bathtub, Zhongli had to cut the foot into byte-sized too. But in terms of clothes, well he had to make them as well. Living thousands of years would mean he would have lot of experience. Sewing was one of them luckily. But that would mean he has to take your measurements as well. In the end, most of the things he made were dresses since they were alot easier.

You like to sneak in between his shirt and his vest tucked behind the coat he wears. Unfortunately Zhongli doesn't seem to have visible pockets (most likely the reason why he doesn't carry mora either), though if you don't hold on tight you might just slip down his vest and right to his stomach. It makes him chuckle when that happens even if the amount of effort to get you out took more than he thought since his attire is quite complicated to put on. If you really want to climb on him, he'll find a seperate pouch (but realizes it won't be a good idea when there's alot of pick-pocketers in Liyue streets).

All of a sudden he reads you bedtime stories. It's some sort of inner instinct that tells him he's taking care of a child now (he's right though). You realized that his voice was equivalent to a thunder's roar due to size difference. He would have to whisper now.

It will always be part of his precious memories when you turned pocket-sized. Zhongli still keeps the clothing he made somewhere in his closets too.

Kaeya

Amused by this eventful situation. Absolutely thrilled! He's not evil like Scaramouche but this new version of his s/o is both adorable and fun at the same time. You're so easy to tickle, just one poke using his finger against your hips makes you yelp. Sometimes he twirls your hair or taps your forehead gently despite your protest, he's so handsy like always in an affectionate yet annoying way.

Kaeya picks you up and places you among the fluffy comfort of his feathery scarf. You sneezed, the last time he cleaned it was before he went on a mission with the knights. Though you have to admit, it's the best feeling in the world. It's so soft you might sink deeper into the fabric. He likes to put you in places where he can talk to you easily, sometimes on the table while he downs on his wine. Normally you have to take the bottle away before it gets too much, now you have to push it away which he finds very entertaining at your futile attempts.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you tell him. Since you turned byte-sized, he can't seem to stop playing around. Takes his two fingers and pretends they're legs walking across the surface. You would turn around and he halts, Kaeya sends you his signature grin. When he promises that he wouldn't do anything funny, you would let him hold you. Since hugs are out of the equation, Kaeya gives you his finger instead to wrap your arms around. He can't get enough seeing you like this, things he couldn't do when you were normal-sized. he enjoys your reactions way too much.

His favourite pass time is helping you brush your hair because the hairbursh is too big for you to handle. Kaeya ensure he's handling things delicately but he would love to help style it for you as well. Pretty please? At this point one request turns to another because he's having way too much fun. But it couldn't be helped since you would need his assistance in almost everything so there's really no escaping.

You were so happy when things were normal again but Kaeya would bring this up again during your conversations (how next time he would like to put you in his drinks while you're wearing a swim suit).

Albedo

Legit blurted out if he could put you on a hamster wheel.

What about trying out the little maze he just made?

Or participating in a race against slimes of different elements?

No? Okay, then he'll just turn you back.

Albedo isn't going deal with this as along as he can help it (especially when he remembers what Klee did to him when he turned small.)

[blog-of-hubris]

Cursed Energy is a “curse” from the Heavens (Theory).

How Cursed energy relates to the “Other Side”.

1. Heavenly Restrictions

-------------------------------------------------

I would say the obvious and most telling piece of evidence of this theory is the special Binding Vow that can only be imposed at birth; Heavenly Restriction. The name itself is a dead give away for me, but its also something most people seem to look at as just a play on the buddhist themes in Jujutsu Kaisen, but thats just an addition to the theory we’ll discuss later. Specifically lets talk about  the literal usage of the term “heavenly” in Jujutsu Kaisen, you’ll notice it doesn’t seem to be just a motif. 

Lets start from the top, a Heavenly Restriction is a binding vow placed on someone at birth and it has a variety of effects that can be bestowed, however all of these effects are based around two things, the body and cursed energy. Its very simple, either your heavenly restriction will take away your cursed energy and give you superhuman strength, or you lose parts of you body in return for an abundance of cursed energy.

Why is this important? Well, think about what we know about the body and its relation to cursed energy. Think back to Yuji fighting Todo during the Goodwill Event, Todo teaches Yuji about how cursed energy channeling is like breathing, and specifically says “We exist in this world with our entire mind body and soul”. These aren’t just sayings, but true words with esoteric value that jujutsu sorcerers must understand to truly tap into their powers.

Mahito had the technique of idle transfiguration, he gave junpei the ability to use his technique by manipulation his soul aka body/brain to be able to use cursed energy. The body is the soul, and the soul is the body- this was also exemplified when Toji was revived during the Shibuya Incident, literally his body with a heavenly restriction override the seance cursed technique of the grandma, causing him to be fully revived for a period of time. 

“A Heavenly Gifted body strong enough to Overwrite the Soul.” 

Toji was the biggest example of many within JJK that show how the body and the soul are entities of the same, existing in unity. The usage of the word “heavenly” here clearly implies an actual gift from the heavens, and that makes perfect sense when you couple this the fact that cursed energy is a power made from negative emotions. Wouldn’t the removal of that be “Heavenly”? 

Yuki might think so... like she explained to Geto, all humans have cursed energy, but non sorcerers expend it out unknowingly creating curses, while jujutsu sorcerers’ cursed energy cycles through their body, allowing for usage. Toji and Maki however have absolutely none at all, giving them supernatural human abilities. 

Is it a coincidence that people who entirely lack cursed energy at all are naturally stronger, faster and tougher than that of both sorcerer and non-sorcerer? 

Kokichi Muta aka Mechamaru is the opposite example of someone like Toji. He was born with no legs, extremely sensitive skin that burns in sunlight, but in return he had a major output of cursed energy that spanned across Japan. This pain of not being able to live a human life but given an abundance of cursed energy is an obvious curse for Kokichi.

 It was a forceful push into the life of jujutsu being given such an unfortunate restriction, but thats the key to the wording - “restrict”. To hold back, to limit. The common denominator for each of these different effects between the body and the soul is to restrict them based on them due to the heavens. Its a binding vow on your body and soul the day you are born, who else could do a heavenly contract with an unborn soul other than the Heavens themselves?

2. Tengen/Star Plasma Vessel/Six Eye

------------------------------------------------------

The second piece of key evidence really is three but I decided to include them as one piece of information based on the bond of the fate the these three share; Master Tengen, A Star Plasma Vessel & the Six Eyes. 

Master Tengen says this himself, making it clear that there is something more esoteric going on with these three entities. Specifically with Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessel, there is a clear theme going on with Tengen and the Heavens. 

The evidence lies in his immortality. 

Tengen’s cursed technique makes him immortal but after years go by he begins to lose his human form and become that a kin to a cursed spirit, becoming one with heaven and earth. This isn’t metaphorical, with all Kenjaku has been planning and the level of cautions Tengen is taking, he definitely is what he says he is. For Tengen to go back to a normal state he must merge with the Star Plasma Vessel, the only person he can merge unless he waits too long, then he can merge with anyone, losing his sense of self becoming one with the world.

What type of cursed technique gives someone immortality that eventually turns them into a curse that can merge with the consciousness of the world? Gojo said Cursed techniques are 80% inherent, meaning there’s an 80% chance Tengen’s technique was given to him at birth... but nothing about that technique sounds human.. if anything it sounds like something set up to destroy humanity, hence Kenjaku trying to use Tengen to expands cursed energy. 

Enough about Tengen solely, why does he need a vessel called a Star Plasma Vessel? The choice of the name is very interesting, “Star”; an entity in the sky or heavens that shines bright, and “Plasma”; the fluid part of blood, lymph, or milk as distinguished from suspended material within the body. A literal Sun Body, or God body? Of course thats me putting my own metaphorical spin on the name, but it makes sense. 

Oh yea, Tengen’s location is called the Tomb of the Star, so is Tengen the Star being referred to with this name..? That would be the obvious assumptions, and the theme of heavenly beings being symbolized as stars is nothing new to even modern day cultures... it is definitely something to think about.

Last but certainly not least is the Six Eyes. Specifically, these eyes are all seeing, being able to break down people’s cursed energy and their techniques. It also helps the user regulate their own cursed energy usage to an infinitesimal amount. The Six Eyes gives the user an extreme advantage that is unseen by the likes of anything else, and Gojo’s birth shifted the balance of power in the world, but the biggest thing for me that makes the “Heaven sent” theory concrete?

The Six Eyes look like a Sky. 

I think the rest is obvious. Where do people look to when praying to the Heavens? Where do people say Gods reside? This to me makes it painfully clear that the Six Eyes matches into this theories motif perfectly, not to mention Gojo being given the narration “Between Heaven and Earth I am the Honored One” in tandem with Sukuna who is an ancient evil that has literally name dropped Yamamoto no Orochi as a once living curse, comparing it to General Mahoraga. 

Side note: The mention of Orochi is a major point on its own but it felt better mixing it into this section instead of giving it its own. 

So, there is no doubt in my mind that there is more to these things than Tengen is letting on, but we’ll have to see won’t we?

3. The Angel

--------------------

My third piece of evidence could be called a stretch and/or reach however, I personally feel like Gege Akutami has a certain method to his madness when it comes to characters and their techniques. Even down to characters who had very short roles like Junpei. What I mean by this is simply that the “Angel” or Hana Kurusu, could be a new piece of evidence for this theory that is a more obvious way of showing the relationship.

Personally, I’m hoping that Angel’s introduction will begin to cause some of these questions I have to be answered, starting with her explaining why she wants to be called “The Angel”, and I think its because she has the ability ton nullify cursed techniques. It makes perfect sense, a player who can negate cursed techniques, a power based on negative energy, likes to be called an Angel, a being from Heaven. 

Back to Junpei, you could easily make a thematically and/or symbolical argument that his jellyfish Shikigami “Moon Dregs” was a representation of his own personality. Having this squish outside yet having dangerous stingers inside, with the Box Jellyfish specifically emits a poison them just like Moon Dregs, not a coincidence. So my instincts tell me that since Angel’s name and ability perfectly match the motifs of Heavenly Restriction, it just feels obvious she is more proof of the Higher power within Jujutsu Kaisen.

Also, remember the Inverted Spear of Heaven? The cursed tool that “killed” Gojo? Well, it has the ability to nullify all cursed techniques.. sounds just like Angel, as well has continuing the motif of “Heaven” and cancelling Cursed Energy.

Everything is so obvious yet spread a part to seem almost unconnected!

4. Buddhist themes through JJK/Essence of Cursed Energy

——————————————————————-

Jujutsu Kaisen is full of Buddhist themes, from the techniques, to the characters, down to the actual core values of the manga itself. The thing I want to specifically hone in on is the usage of actual buddhist terms such as “nirvana”, the place Tengen speculates Kenjaku is trying to take humanity by using the Culling Game. 

What this means for my theory is simply the confirmation of “Nirvana” existing, and Nirvana is commonly used synonymously with Heaven. More importantly though, it is this idea of reaching “nirvana” that reminds me of Yuki’s goal of removing cursed energy from the human race, or at least beginning the path for it to happen. The essence of cursed energy lies in people’s earthly connections and ideals manifested negatively, continuing the cycle of rebirth for Curses. The idea of nirvana, at a very surface level, demands the removal of these connections, with continuous practices of generosity, and the other principles of the Eight Fold Path. 

What I’m getting at here is that these Buddhist motifs being used in Jujutsu Kaisen are symbolic in their nature to add layers to the characters, but it also doubles as a way for Gege to show how these things are literal to a degree. Tengen began spreading Buddhism around Japan, and that became the backbone for the practices of jujutsu. Now, the students are not taught the teachings of the Buddhist beliefs, but that could also be a part of the decline in the average sorcerers understanding of jujutsu. 

Side note: Remember, the entity with an immortality technique that turns him into a curse that can merge with heaven and earth started jujutsu teachings.. 

Jujutsu Kaisen is a series based in modern times, using loosely based historical facts to guide the lore of the world, down to the origins of the power system. If this doesn't mean we should take the things people see as fiction in our world as non-fiction within jujutsu Kaisen then I'm clearly just overthinking things!  What do you think about this theory and the origins of Cursed Energy in the world? Do you think we will ever get this information revealed? And if this is a curse from the heavens, why do you think they did it? 

Thanks for reading!! 

[moemoemammon]

(Two things, 1. This is my first time requesting so I'm sorry if this is not the thing to do it, and 2. Sorry if somethings is misspelled or grammatically incorrect, eng is not my first language:p)

May I request some of the bros, specially Mammon, Luci and Satan, with a MC who's similar to Lucifer in some aspects (like, some of their manners are the same as his and sometimes they're little bit too strict) and after a while they discover that its bc MC is also an older sibling. And (only if you want) meeting their younger sibling, please 🙏

Btw love your works ♡♡♡

Lucifer Number 2~

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

It doesn't occur to Lucifer how similar the two of you are, but the first thing he realizes is how pleasant conversations with you can be. You both share common interests, your tastes suit his own, and you seem to be the only competent person in this house.

You're the responsible type, and he likes it. He'll sometimes find you scolding his brothers for their behavior too, and as amusing of a sight as that may be, he doesn't want you to be burdened with their idiocy.

AND you're the eldest sibling in your household? Cheers to that. You too know the weight of being the responsible oldest, and the role one must take to ensure their siblings grow up well. You too know that you'd rather your siblings have things easier than you did.

But there's one thing he finds annoying... You can NEVER speak your feelings, and act as if it’d kill you to do so. He can respect secrecy when it's appropriate, but Lucifer would like to know what's on your mind. Not only that, but you can be HORRIBLY headstrong. There's nothing that can stray you away from what you've already decided.

"MC, I request that you take a few days off from school to do as you please. I've already spoken with Diavolo and your professors, and you've been given an excuse. I know you'll study anyway, so I've dropped off your assignments in your room. But... you should rest. It isn't good for you to be pushing yourself so hard. Hm? You're calling me a hypocrite?"

Mammon

As if one Lucifer wasn't enough. Now there's TWO of em?! Why's his luck gotta be so lousy!

Definitely the first to realize how much like Lucifer you are, and was SHOOK. Seriously, what gives?! What horrors exist in the human world that could've made you like THAT..?

Ever since you showed up, it's been impossible to get away with anything! He can't sneak out of the house because you're always there somehow, you tattle on him when you catch him leaving anyone's room, and you won't even let him copy your homework! What gives?!

Avoids you like the plague. You're no fun! There's only rare moments when you're kinda okay, and he likes those the best. The times when you're kinda sensitive and you'll drop the high and mighty act. But then you're back to being a pest!

"For the billionth time, I ain't got time to study! There's money to be made, and a guy like me ain't gonna waste a second lookin' at a dumb book when I could be- H-Huh?! You're gonna call Lucifer?! N-now, there's no need to be so hasty, right? Oi!! I'm sorry, damn it-!"

Levi

What's the deal with Lucifer number two? As comedic of a trope as that may be, Levi doesn't really care for having two nagging types in the house. Especially a human...

When you're in his room, all you do is nitpick about how he should tidy up and open a window! Don't you know that an otaku's room is his pride and joy?! It's a sacred space not to be trampled on by the opinions of a normie!!!

But still... he has to admit that even if you don't get all the stuff he's talking about, you at least try to understand it. And there are even some of his interests that you're genuinely invested in!

You might be a pain in the neck and harass him about annoying things, but he guesses he can deal with it if you'll actually sit through a TSL marathon with him...

"I-I'll lend you this manga, so make sure you read it! And when you're finished with that, I'll lend you the spin-off series by the author's brother! I know you'll like it, since you're interested in gritty stuff. Oh, and- Huh? My laundry? Y-yeah.... I'll do that.."

Satan

You are... surprisingly good company. Satan enjoys talking to you over afternoon tea, and the two of you share stories between one another.

But still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something... unpleasantly familiar about your personality. It isn't until you say something that sounds suspiciously similar to what Lucifer would say that he realizes who you remind him of. And oh, he hates it.

Tries playing pranks on you, but somehow they never go to plan. How that is is beyond him, but you never fall for anything! No matter how sweet his smile, you're always rightfully suspicious. You're annoyingly meticulous about checking your surroundings, and you're so aware of yourself that it's troublesome! Be more gullible!!

The king of petty has decided that its now his life goal to make you fall for at least one of his pranks. He doesn't care how elaborate he has to make it, or how unrewarding the payoff may be. He'll make you pay for seeing his brother in two places at once.

"MC, would you like to join me this afternoon for a book reading? Though, I'd love it if you could read this book in particular. I think you'll find it very-.... Hm? 'Isn't this the cursed book that makes you grow hair all over your body', you ask? Ahaha.... tch."

Asmo

Come now, there can't be TWO killjoys in the house! That's way too depressing!! It was funny at first to see that there's someone who can match the scary Lucifer's energy, but now it's becoming a nuisance!

You won't even go to the countless parties he's invited you to! Hell, you barely even give yourself room to mess around a little? Isn't it boring being so tightly wound? You're in luck, because the adorable Asmo-chan knows the PERFECT way to let loose~

You'll RARELY let him close to you, and that's usually when you're tired of him harassing you. Then he gets the honor of playing with your hair while you've got no energy to fight back! He'll style it wonderfully for you!

Also nags you to take better care of yourself. You're not a demon, so you have to care for your health! These late night study sessions are giving you bags under your eyes! And stop taking on so many extracurricular activities!

"Geez, MC! I didn't think you'd die from overworking, but that's the path you're headed on! You really are like Lucifer, you know? That being said, I'll do my best to make sure you relax! Shall we begin~?"

Beel

Beel may not be too bothered by Lucifer's strictness, but that doesn't mean he's immune to it. To think that even a human can be like that...

It's nice to see that you can take care of yourself, but aren't you working too hard? Your grades are good and you've got many interesting talents, but you also have to properly rest.

Has started bringing you snacks on the regular. And don't even think about skipping meals, because he won't allow it. He'll literally pick you up and bring you to the table if he has to. And if you're staying up late to study? He'll carry you to bed. Don't try to protest.

Beel is your babysitter now and there's nothing you can do about it. It's good to be responsible, but don't think about trying to take care of everyone else if you can't care for yourself. Now eat these twelve meat buns he bought for you.

"MC, let's eat lunch together. I know you were going to skip because I heard you talking to Solomon earlier, and I won't let you. Ah, don't worry about not having money, because I've already bought you some lunch. Let's eat in the courtyard."

Belphie

NO.... IT CAN'T BE... THIS HAS TO BE A NIGHTMARE....HE WANTS TO WAKE UP....

You're such a drag. You harass him to attend student council meetings, but him about his studies, and won't let him avoid a single obligation he has. What are you, his mother?

Has 100% joined forces with Satan to try to make you fall for many, many unsuccessful pranks. Are you curse proof or something? When he tried a '10 hour bed-head' spell on you, it just rebounded right to him! Then he found out that you'd borrowed a spell repelling amulet from Solomon and realized just how prepared you are...

When you aren't bothering his entire soul by trying to make him do things, you're actually nice to talk to. You're knowledgeable, you pay attention to the people around you, and you can always read a room. He likes to ask you for advice sometimes.

"Aren't you tired of being like that all the time? So... attentive, I mean. You should just take a nap some time. Or better yet, take the week off. Maybe I'll teach you how to properly relax? Then you might finally be able to take that stick out of your- ow... What're you hitting me for?"

[littlefreya]

Velvet Chains

Summary: For a generous fee, August Walker is yours. A man devout to pleasure, who will worship you for an entire night and make sure your first time is more than memorable. 

Promot:  

 A thought - August as a gigolo who specializes in deflowering. 👌

Pairing: Soft! August Walker x Virgin Reader.  

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+. August Walker as a sex-worker, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, a depiction of bodily fluids, soft!August themes, a tinge of angst and August’s monster c... 

A/N: When I received this prompt, I didn’t think I can actually do it justice, but it was 3am and I started dabbling around. Then in the morning, I took another look at it, and this little drabble turned into a one-shot. I hope you’ll like it, I hope I did well. Many thanks to @agniavateira​ my muse who beta’d my story. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed reading. 🖤 DM if you want to be added to my tag squad. 

Title: Velvet Chains

They were all little flowers to him, fresh peonies and flushed roses. Young or mature, it never mattered as long as they were still oh so pure. Undefiled, succulent flesh. Kissed by dew and wrapped by the last remaining petals of their innocence.

All for him to willfully pluck.

Sprayed with notes of tobacco, and boozy fragrance of rum - August Walker was the top-tier kind of service, a man to die for with his three-piece suits and shiny leather shoes. At one point he didn’t even need to self-promote; they came to him, all doe-eyed and coy, willing to pay as much as it takes to have him breach through the sealed gates of their garden.   

The rules were quite simple: Cash in advance and always wear protection; other than that anything goes. August liked to see himself as a procurer of fantasies rather than a male prostitute. For a generous fee of $1500, his girls earned themselves a night they never forgot. Whether it began with a dinner at the most outrageous restaurant, a masked ball at a billionaire’s mansion, or an intimate evening with his homemade cooking at a cosy sublet. 

It was up to him to choose the experience for the ladies after thoroughly assessing and profiling each client. He was never wrong; after all, it was his job to study women, both mentally and physically. 

“I know what you need,” he would murmur as he kissed down their navel and swept between their shaky thighs. And in his grip they indeed laughed, cried, and came undone so many times over, reaching out to grasp heaven around his unapologetically huge cock.  

Until you changed everything. 

August couldn’t quite crack you; while he enjoyed, savoured, and conquered every woman he had, it was you who seemed to have more power over him than he did over you. The quiet abyss in your eyes reeled him in like an unfortunate, foolish fish teetering on a hook. Whatever mysteries that mind of yours held, he wanted to pry it open with his fingers and brush them through the parchments of your soul. 

He desired you more than just the flesh; he wanted to be deeper in you than he ever was in any other woman. 

‘Who are you?’

Shivering in his presence, it was crystal clear that you weren’t immune to his spells; yet you didn’t seem impressed by the theatrics or his suave appearance. As if you saw right through him, and knew it was all but a spectacle.  

Wanting everyone to witness your ‘claiming’, he took you to the dimly-lit roof of his private apartment and laid you on a blanket beneath the beaming stars. When his lips touched yours while slowly ridding himself of his clothes, August felt like he could tell you his most kept secrets though he didn’t want to. 

This is not how it worked. Not for him. 

Sorrounded by the fairy tea-lights that adorned the intimate rooftope, you flinched as he began undressing you, and trembled so vehemently once completely bare that all he wanted was to embrace you in his big arms. And he did so, collecting you against the dark fur of his chest, the heat of his body provided shelter from the cold October breeze.

“Beautiful,” he whispered sincerely and allowed his hands to roam the tender map of your body. Likely, he would never see you again, so he wanted to remember every curve, dimple, and scar; he needed your moans imprinted in the museum of his mind. 

The same desperate, breathless pleas only a virgin would make, purer than pure.

Breathing in shudders, you laid down beneath him with your legs spread out. Your little untouched slit displayed to his hungering gaze, asking to be reshaped by his intrustment. August was never one to lose control, but your entire existence has made him question every decision and in a moment of frivolousity, he lost himself completely and broke the most forbidden rule: 

He entered you bare. 

Painfully large and hot as flaming iron, his rigid cock tore through your maidenhood and delved into your velvety pit, desperately searching for the engulfing shelter that was your womb. Weeps of pain rained down your lips; he was too big, and he didn’t slow down. He unwrapped you, tearing your rose petals one by one, sinking in until you could have sworn he was infused between your lungs. 

Overwhelmed by the raw sensation of your wet flesh engulfing him, August raked his arm around the small of your back and held your body against his, forcing you to spread wider, to grant him the infinite access he demanded.

“Look at me kitten,” he murmured in a half-breathless, half-soothing voice and showered hasty butterfly kisses across your forehead, “I’m inside you. It’s done, now let me please you.”

He seared your body, your sensitive entrance pulsating with a twinge of grieving anger around his veiny cock, your walls squeezing, fighting off his lewd intrusion. While you anticipated the pain, the initial shock was too much to bear. 

“I don’t think I can take you,” you retorted and swallowed hard, trying not to cry as he swelled and flinched inside you further more.

August reached a hand to your jaw and caged it between his strong fingers. Not saying a word, he stared intensely into your eyes. Smoke and broken mirrors shadowed his glare. In your daze, you swore you could see his reveries and hear him whisper without moving his lips. 

The barriers of your guarded castle were in ruins, and so was your self-preservation. Fully submitting, you allowed him to take you beneath the shimmering, black silks of midnight. 

August was both gentle and rough as he rode between your thighs, his heavy body surrounding you completely. His entity seeped through your lungs and pores, his bewhiskered mouth left sloppy, ticklish kisses and chanted a hymn of pleasure against your neck. 

For a slight moment, you wondered if he was this passionate with all of his customers. But all thoughts died at the moment his crown slammed into the wall of your womb, and the entirety of your existence was flooded with both the tremors of sudden pleasure and satisfying pain. 

You wanted more, you wanted to be complete. To be completely his.

“Oh god, yes!” You cried for him, clawing your nails at the taut muscles of his back.

Grunting, he plunged into you, harder with every pull and deeper with every thrust. He sought for heaven between your legs and as inexperienced and naive as you were, you followed your instincts and complied to his arousal. Bucking your hips, you yielded to meet the jerk of his hips - your rhythm a savage mess, your demeanour that of a virgin-whore. 

“Good girl, my good girl,” August praised, thrilled of the shift in you, and by the helpless, glossy gaze and gaping mouth as you moaned and begged. Your freshly open cunt clung to his invasion with its growing tightness. Holding onto him the way the moon is bound to earth.

Control was gradually lost over your own bodies, enslaved to something stronger than your wills and wits. It was as if you became vessels to haunting spirits that made you slam into one another, lost in a sweaty, carnal trance until a flush of sudden rapture broke between your legs the way raging waves break upon a ship lost at sea, consuming it completely.

Like a dauntless sailor, August followed you into the depths of euphoria. Jumping to his knees, he hauled you by the waist and slammed you against him, needing to be balls-deep within you. With a loud shout, he came undone, astonished by the raw, unbridled sensation of releasing himself inside another person.

You both shuddered in shock as his thick cum bathed your womb in three, warm gushes. 

‘Oh, August, what have you done?’

Spent, he nearly collapsed on top of you, holding his hands flat to the side of your head. He took a deep breath before pulling out from your hurting hole and moving to lie by your side. The pink mixture of your essence trickled between your simmering lips just the way it coated his still-swollen cock. Glancing down upon it he felt an odd notion of triumph, more than the usual complacent feeling usually evoked with his clientele. 

“Don’t worry, I am clean.” He promised. 

In a way, you were his first as well.

Pulling you against him, he nuzzled your neck and hummed lowly, “I don’t imagine you could give me anything.”

Still trying to land back on solid ground, you said nothing. Words didn’t make it, not through your chest nor your head. You basked within the moment, trying to memorise every vibration that flowed through your veins as the glow became dimmer with every passing minute.

Limbs entangled, he decorated your shoulder-blade with honey-sweet kisses while your spine attached to his hairy chest. He watched you quietly, admiring you completely until the two of you fell into a dreamless sleep under the guarding sky. 

Come morning, August was awakened by the sounds of the raging street below. The scent of toxic vapours hung heavy in the air and his face curled at the sounds of the beeping horns. For a moment, he forgot where he was but then you were the first thing on his mind. Even though he knew the deal was for one night only, something in him itched for a generous ‘on-the-house’ lazy morning sex.

As he rolled to lie on top of you, his chest felt abruptly empty. He was met with nothing but the defiled blanket.

You were gone.   

Though the scent of your body, your sweat, and viscous fluids were still stuck to his skin, your memory a sheer piece of silk carried away by the cruel wind. The weight of a thousand stones dropped in August’s gut and he flipped onto his back once more and stared at the cloudy sky. 

It resonated in him that this was all that it was, and he would never find a girl like you again.     

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

*I don’t own August Walker or the Mission: Impossible Franchise

[cardansriddle]

Could you do a Yandere Tom Riddle where he meets S/O who is exactly like him Slytherin, Halfblood, conceived under a love potion and cold at heart? (You can if you want to)

Destined- Tom Riddle

A/N: I have to admit I strayed away from the topic just a tad bit and got carried away. I did not really explore the Yandere side of Tom here, and this is kinda shitty i know. But I decided to post it nonetheless.

He heard whispers about you.

It had not been surprising at first, Hogwarts did not allow any transfers, yet apparently you had been an exception. Perhaps that should have been his first sign to gain information on you, after all, you had to be quite extraordinary for the Headmaster to make an exception, right? However, he had completely overlooked your arrival, not giving her a second glance during the classes, in the hallways, or at the Slytherin table where he would dine.

Yet two weeks passed, and while Tom had expected the whispers to cease, they seemed to increase each day. That was the exact reason why he had decided to finally see what all the fuss was about. What was so special about you that no one could shut up about the new girl?

His fellow Slytherins would always sneer whenever your name came up. He was tired of Abraxas going on a rant about how halfbloods were not pure enough to be sorted into Slytherin, and once Tom had snapped, throwing a hex at him to shut him up. After all, he was a halfblood as well.

He was hidden in the safety of the shadows, tracking your silent steps as you moved through the corridors of the ancient castle, your soft hair cascading down your back while you adjusted the strap of your bag, releasing a frustrated huff every now and then. Many would move out of your way, parting and allowing you to pass and Tom's brows furrowed at the obvious action of fear— or was it respect?— as he continued to follow you.

After a short while, his patience started to run out, and he was quite tired of tracking your steps. The boy was tempted to slip some truth serum into your drink at some point, yet he had refrained, a part of him knowing you would somehow take notice of the trickery. He knew it by the way your eyes would survey the room very carefully as if you were cautious and distrustful of everyone that surrounded you. It bothered him how similar both of your mindsets were.

He heard you had managed to hex a handful of students ever since your arrival, whispering such threats in their ears that they would leave with trembling limbs. 

You had darkness in you, and Tom was planning on unleashing it.

You finally made it to the library, politely greeting the old librarian before moving to your usual table in the corner, a space that was secluded and away from prying eyes. You pulled out an unfamiliar book and did not waste a second before you were indulged in it.

Tom watched, as your brows knitted together in concentration, as you pulled your lower lip in between your thumb and pointer finger, as you ran a hand through your soft hair in frustration, and he devoured every little action. 

A little amount of time passes before he could not stand the questions gnawing at his mind, so he finally decided to approach you, settling in the chair next to you with grace.

You looked up from your book, your expression annoyed as you stared at the Prefect next to you. "Can I help you?"

He did not respond for a brief moment, as his eyes fell to the cover of the book you were currently reading. 'Love Potions: The Dangers and Effects'

"An interesting choice of book." He expressed his thought sourly, wondering why she would waste her time reading a book on Love Potions. Had he miscalculated things? Was she not special? Was she just another foolish girl searching for love? He almost gagged at the thought.

"Not particularly." You answered with a tired sigh. "It was apparently written by an imbecile because there is no useful information in here." With that said, you snapped the book shut and turned to him, cocking an eyebrow. "Is there something you need, Riddle? Because I would rather not waste my time and chit-chat."

"Many would love to be in your place and chit-chat with me, darling." He answered, his lips curling into a smug smirk. You rolled your eyes at his arrogance. "What was it that you were looking for in a book about Love Potions?"

You glanced at him, debating whether or not to actually answer his question. You've heard that Tom Riddle was the brightest student in school, and after some contemplation, you came to the conclusion that perhaps he would have some insight on the subject you were so interested in.

"What do you know about children conceived under the effects of a love potion?" You asked, and quirked a brow as his body stilled. His guarded eyes searched your face before he straightened his spine.

"Why are you asking?"

You sighed then, figuring he did not know about it. "Forget it. You're just as useless as the imbecile who wrote this." You made a move to grab your book and put it back in your bag, yet you were startled when his hand slammed on the table, the other grabbing the back of your chair as he leaned in towards you.

"Watch your mouth." He snarled.

"Jeez, you're sensitive." You smirked as you put your hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. 

He continued to glare at you, even as he settled back in his seat.

"Children conceived under the love potion are told to be void of most of the emotions. They cannot feel, they cannot sympathise, and cannot feel love."

His words caused you to freeze in your place, and it was as if realisation dawned upon you as you stared numbly at your hands. So that is why you felt no remorse, no regret, no guilt- and no love towards the people you were supposed to care about.

He watched you, as you seemed to be mulling over things in your head, and a thought struck his head. 

“Were you conceived under the effects of the love potion?”

You looked up, surprised at his bluntness. 

You debated lying to him, yet you knew Tom Riddle, and he was not the type to gossip or indulge in similar useless activities, so with a bitter smile, you responded. “Yes. I was.”

Something churned in Tom’s heart, something dangerous as he stared at you. You were...similar to him. He had never been able to say that about someone. There had been no one that could understand his feelings- or well, the lack of- and now there you were, the one person in the universe who happened to have the same unfortunate fate as him.

“So was I.” Was his unexpected response. You saw no deception behind his gaze and knew he had no reason or motive to lie about such a thing, and you believed him.

It was then that you had formed a bond that went unspoken. It was as if you understood each other without needing to speak the words. And that is how that weird night blossomed into days of spending time together, becoming friends. It was quite easy, you matched each other’s level both emotionally and intellectually, and it came as a relief to the both of you.

Whatever you two had, had blossomed into a deep trustful releationship, and you had been informed of Tom’s plans for the future. As expected, you supported his idea, his beliefs, and your own thirst for power had you feeling giddy at the idea of becoming unstoppable.

It was when you were both at that same table in the library when he spoke the words that you swore made you feel something.

“As I rule over the world.” He breathed. “I want you by my side, ruling as the Dark Lady. The world will be ours. We will be a force to be reckoned with.”

You had looked up at him with utter yet pleasant surprise, and you had felt your lips curl into a smirk as you agreed, because how could you not when he was offering the whole world to you?

He then had grabbed your chin, lifting your face and brushing his soft lips against yours. 

That day, he had kissed you so hard, you thought your lips would bruise, yet you did not dare complain. If that was what pain felt like, you would take it every day, only to feel his lips on yours once more.

The universe had created you for one another, two similar souls destined for a great purpose. Destined to rule the world.

[multiplefandomsblog]

request; I am lusting for the emo boy 👉👈 Could I get something where the reader gives him a bj after he had a stressful day

warnings; bj, deep-throating, cussing, cum-eating, shuichi is receiving, reader is gender-neutral.

note; im trying to think of a song to go with this hold up- (yes thats all i have for my note, im running out of things to say-)

OH SHIT YES!!! SANGRIA?? BY EASY LIFE??? ARLO PARKS??? OR GET YOU BY DANIEL CAESER!!!!!

wc; 2k+

Slapping the screen of his work computer shut, the sudden and loud noise kept him awake for just a little longer. Shuichi brought both of his cold hands to his face, rubbing the eye bags that had formed as a result of his overworking and lack of sleep.

“God…” It took him everything he had to not yell into his slightly trembling hands. His fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he stood up from the chair that had made his backside ache, breathing out the pent-up stress he had cultivated throughout the… He checked his watch, drooping eyes barely able to read the hands of the miniature clock. 

—The twelve hours of sitting down, typing in and submitting in files, piled onto files regarding a tough case. He’d be lying if he wasn’t at least a little used to this shit work ethic. 

The first thought his mind allowed him to possess after draining his brain completely out of energy, had been, ‘S/o...-, I hope they didn’t forget to eat today.’ He hadn’t gotten the chance to monitor you, nor text or call you; his phone, to kick off the day, hadn’t charged properly the day before, leaving his phone with 3%. The moment he had tried to text you mid-way through his extended work period, his phone had given up on him, leaving him frustrated and worried. 

Sighing, he quickly packed up his things, ready to leave the suffocating, but honestly quite nicely designed office— to see you. He was so close to just falling asleep on the nice, cold surface of his computer, but the thought of you waking up to an empty bed had his heart, crumbling over something he hadn’t done yet. And hadn’t planned to do, either. 

Exiting the office, he called a taxi as he was too deprived of sleep to safely drive.

---------------------------------------------------------—

Hearing the door open, you immediately rushed to the front door, almost slipping on the waxy surface of the wood floor against your fuzzy socks. 

Pulling back, your eyes held a different emotion as you gazed into Shuichi’s tired but loving orbs; your eyes no longer contained the same soul-crushing worry for him. Instead, they had held a needy lust. Could you blame yourself? It had been twelve hours. Shuichi let out a quiet startled noise as you started dragging him to the couch, he did nothing but let you; too tired to ask what you were doing despite having the sneaking suspicion he already knew. No one can overlook a stare like that; you’d have to be blind to. 

Pushing him onto the couch with little effort, he watched with intrigued eyes as you got to your knees and sat in between his knees, your own gaze locking onto his as you lowered yourself to the point where you had to crane your neck to properly see his pretty, flushed face. 

Golden eyes flashed in need, small whines spilling from his trembling lips as he slightly parted his thighs for you to drag your fingers further up into. “You worked all day, Shuichi… C’mon, just a taste?” You looked up at him, doe eyes pleading and tongue swiping across your bottom lip entrancingly, as Shuichi’s golden eyes followed the glistening muscle. He could already imagine your tongue swirling around the tip of his— 

“A-a little… A little taste. Please.” Ten hours of neglect, and the craving for his musk only augmented with each agonizing second that passed by. His eyes widened at the sultry tone you equipped; had he really worked so long to the point you were on your knees for him? “I...”

Yes, yes he had. It had been twelve hours, and you were worried sick. Not only that, the poor boy looked so tense and stressed, it had given you the urge to just strap him to the bed and force him to sleep, and nothing else. Knowing him, he wouldn’t have allowed himself the proper amount of hours of sleep, and food he needed to stay alive.

A part of him didn’t want to take advantage of your state, but a part of him already knew you wouldn’t let up until you got what you wanted; it’s not like he detested the idea of getting sucked off. “O-okay.”

He let out a small gasp as he felt you suddenly play with the zipper of his pants, your fingers ‘accidentally’ brushing against the growing erection he hadn’t noticed he had. You watched him carefully, fighting the urge to laugh as he arched his back against the couch; you didn’t want to embarrass him, you simply wanted to help him de-stress. 

Deciding you’d focus more on him than your own sadistic desires, you quickly halted your teasing and zipped open his fly, wasting no time to reach down the waistband of his navy blue boxers and pin-striped pants, erupting a gasp from him as he hadn’t been expecting it to escalate so fast.

Gingerly, you pulled out the hardening cock that seemed to twitch in your hold, only causing you to smile at the cute reaction. Though Shuichi’s facial expression had been incomparable to his cock. You had barely down anything to him, and his whole entire face flushed red, a hand already clamped over his mouth that concealed the lip he had been chewing at so aggressively. 

Stroking your thumb over the pretty pink tip of his cock, you cooed at it, already finding yourself craning your neck down to kiss the tip of it, causing Shuichi to jolt up from the light but impactive pressure on the tip of his cock. He found himself getting more alert, differing from his previous state of mind where he had barely been able to register what had been happening at the door.

Tired, lolling eyes from earlier converted into wide, lustfully lidded golden eyes that bore into your own coloured irises. The only difference between the two pairs of eyes had been the soft domineering gaze you set upon the boy who seemed to be putty in your hands and mouth. 

Winking at him, you felt confidence grow in you as you heard him slightly whimper and wine through the futile coverage of his hand over his mouth, and so, with suave, you slid the eager cock into your mouth, tapping it over your lips and tongue before deciding to suck the entire thing in, in one go. The near-scream Shuichi emitted definitely helped you take the entirety of him inside your mouth. 

You let out a small hiccup as you felt him throbbing in your throat, eyes wide and nose deep in the base of his shaft as your lips had almost been able to kiss the base of his cock. Keyword; almost.

With tear-filled eyes, you moaned onto his cock that only seemed to fit in half of your mouth before you started gagging. The small choked gasps from your side seemed to be in earshot of Shuichi, as he reached down to check on you- his hand was caught mid-way as you took a deep breath through your nose and fit the rest of his length down your throat. At this point, tears had been falling down your face uncontrollably, and you had been too busy massaging the base of his cock and balls to try and wipe them off.

“S-S/o— Y-you shouldn’t- F-fuck, I’m already so close, please don’t stop…!” He whined in a broken voice, head spinning and eyes rolling to the back of his head as he practically heaved out pants against the couch behind him. You felt your own thighs tremble as you heard him lose character, cussing; something you didn’t know he’d ever do. It sounded foreign in his voice, but was it strange that you actually liked how it sounded?

Moans and pleas spilled out of his drooling mouth like a running faucet; he noticed it only seemed to egg you on, in which, he wasn’t sure he liked or feared. He was highly certain he wouldn’t be able to last long—the thought hit him like an 80-pound brick as you dragged your tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock. “Hhnn- Ah—!” He let out an embarrassingly high moan, though he didn’t seem to care enough to tend to the humiliation, as he had currently been occupying his mind with the fact you had been sucking him off and sucking him off good.

His neck and thighs twitched as he writhed, not able to hold back the urge to pull your hair as he felt like he was going to lose it if he didn’t. Reaching down quickly, he yanked your hair upwards, in a force that didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. It seems, even during moments like these he was always gentle with you. 

Rewarding him for the action, you hummed muffled praises he couldn’t hear, but could definitely feel the effect of it against his cock. Vibrations shot up from between his legs to up the trail of his spine, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. 

You felt his clammy hand that had kept hold of your hair, push you down onto his length roughly, causing you to stifle a surprised choke as you felt his tip hit the very back of your throat. “S-Shui—” You couldn’t even say half his name properly. 

With tears streaming down your face, you shut yourself up and took it, bobbing your head up and down faster—to which he rewarded you with shaky, blissful sobs. God, did you wish you could see his expression right now. 

At the thought, your slightly red eyes darted up to his face, which seemed to be staring right back at you with his own tear-brimmed gaze. “S-S/o...!” He whined out, a few stray tears falling as he felt his climax approach him. Throwing his head back, you lost sight of his flushed, slobbering face as he rested the back of his neck against the couch. 

“Close..! Close! Hah- Hnngg! Please, I need to- to—!” Shuichi cut himself off, mouth contorting into an ‘O’ shape as he tensed his thighs underneath your clawed grip, feeling his well-deserved orgasm finally hit him. You suctioned your mouth around his length especially hard, eyes squeezing shut as you felt him pulsating against the walls of your sore throat.

You could feel the milky white, nearly translucent cum shoot down your throat and, as you usually do, you let it slip down your throat with no complaints—and it wasn’t as if you could try spitting it out; Shuichi’s cock had been so far down your throat, he had been practically been shooting it directly down your throat, giving you no chance to swallow. 

You felt his cock shudder, twitch and go flaccid in your mouth; so with a final drag of your lips, you trapped any leftover semen within the insides of your lips and licked whatever had escaped the bindings of your aching mouth. Shuichi remained heaving against the couch, his hand that had previously been holding onto your hair with a death-grip, weakened and dropped to the side of your face.

Bringing his head back down from the thrown back position on the couch, he stared down at you who had still been seated between his legs, your cheek resting against his thigh as you watched him with a soft and infatuated gaze. After such a feat, to look at him like that; he felt like he was on cloud 9. He truly wondered what he had done to deserve a blow job like that, and someone like you to give him such a thing after neglecting you for twelve hours, he felt terrible for you yet also fortunate to have you. His gaze, despite still fucked-out and slightly mind-blown, held worry for you. 

With his already red face going even more crimson, he brought his hand down to the side of your head to stroke your face tenderly. Still heaving out pants, he stuttered out quiet words of gratification, “... T-thank you. For that.” To which you only grinned cheekily at, head turning to gently nibble and kiss at the inside of his thigh, causing a small yelp to erupt from him. 

Your hand gripped onto his thigh, making sure to immobilize him and his squirming as you sucked a hickey onto his thigh. “Hh-!” Shuichi could only whimper at the pressure, his free hand going up to wipe away the tears that formed from earlier, and the ones that had been forming currently. 

[es-kay-zee]

Backseat | Lee Know x Reader

genre: absolutely filthy smut

warnings: brat tamer! idol, sub! reader, afab reader, masturbation, choking, hair pulling, marking, handcuffs, pet names, degradation, praise (brief), humiliation, swearing, overstimulation, impact play, oral sex, interfemoral sex, fingering, use of the colour system. this is written under the assumption that all kinky acts performed have been discussed many times prior. consent is important and limits should always be discussed with any partner

requested: nope, this came from my own perverted mind

word count: 5.1k

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms​ @etherealeeknow​ 

a/n: welp, i definitely went overboard on this. count this as my apology for the angst lately. this is absolutely disgusting filth and i hope you enjoy :) this also isn’t proofread (i say like i’ve proofread anything i’ve written) so if you see any mistakes feel free to let me know and i’ll fix it :) also i was kidding when i said i'd finish this at 5am but it's literally 5.03am so that's a bit funny lol

 ____________________

To say you were annoyed with Minho would be only somewhat accurate. Frustrated was probably a better word. He’d been teasing you the entire time you were both out for dinner with your parents, spending a large portion of the time with his hand resting on your inner thigh. His touch had you on edge all night, especially when his fingers would occasionally migrate upwards, slowly stroking at your clothed sex.

He always seemed to do it while you were talking, catching you off guard each and every time. More than once your voice was cut off with a quiet whine and you had to come up with some excuse to your parents. You’re not sure how much they actually believed your measly excuses, but they didn’t question you further, probably not wanting to know what their child was actually up to.

Once dinner is over, and you’ve said goodbye to your parents, you and Minho head towards his car. You don’t speak to him the entire way, frustrated with him for having the audacity to tease you in front of your family. You weren’t truly upset with him, and he was aware of this. You were just embarrassed.

Finally reaching the car, Minho unlocks it and opens the passengers-side door, holding it open for you. But you weren’t about to ignore his earlier actions, wanting to play on your annoyance for one end goal in mind; being pounded into the mattress when you get home. And so, choosing your first act of defiance, you step past Minho and get into the backseat, slamming the car door behind you.

Minho huffs, rolling his eyes at your childish move. He closes the passenger door, walking around the car and climbing into the driver’s seat. The engine rumbles to life and Minho pulls out of the car park, beginning the 30 minute drive to your shared home.

You sit in silence, ignoring the glances from Minho in the rear-view mirror. It’s obvious that your act of climbing into the backseat has irked him, but you want to continue winding him up further. A devilish idea pops into your mind; the perfect way to tease him in return. You finally look forwards, making eye contact with Minho’s reflection. You smirk at him, and his eyebrows knit together in confusion, wondering what you’re planning to do.

You don’t leave him wondering for too long, propping one of your legs up on the car seat next to you, dress rising and putting your underwear clad pussy on display for Minho to see. You watch as his eyes flick downwards, quickly looking back up as he realises what you’re about to do.

“Don’t you dare. You know the rules,” he warns, his voice dark and threatening.

All his words achieve is making you needier. You say nothing, just continuing to stare at Minho in the mirror, as you bring one of your hands down, using your middle finger to rub circles against your clit. The small touch has you whining, the combination of Minho’s earlier teasing and the tense atmosphere in the car mixing to make you extra sensitive.

Your breathing slowly begins to pick up as your arousal grows, beginning to soak through the flimsy fabric of your lacy underwear. Your other hand comes up to your breast, groping yourself over your dress. Minho watches your brazen display, making sure to keep a watch on the road in front of him as well. You partly expect him to speed up, rushing to get you home and teach you a lesson, but he doesn’t. He stays steadily at the speed limit, not even once going over. He wants to drag this out. He wants to see just how far you’ll go with your little act.

And you’re more than willing to show him.

You slide your underwear to the side, quickly sliding one of your digits into your slick walls. Minho adjusts his rear-view mirror, positioning it to where he has a good view of your lower half. He watches the way you pump your fingers in and out of your pussy, curling the digits against your sweet spot. You exaggerate your moans, knowing how much Minho loves to hear you. And all you want is to get him as worked up as he made you.

The hand working on your breast slides down the front of your dress, and you pinch one of your buds, tugging gently before pulling your hand away and sliding it down to your clit. You press the pad of your middle finger against the nub, rubbing against it just as you were before while your other handworks your core. The combined simulation has you nearing your peak, your body beginning to tingle in just the way that it does when you’re close.

Minho swallows, trying to supress his groans at your actions. Your moans rise in pitch, turning into desperate whines as you try to push yourself over that edge and into bliss. You rub faster against your clit, but what is the true catalyst for your release, is the moment you make eye contact with Minho again. His eyes are dark, darker than you’ve ever seen before. And they hold a conflicting look, simultaneously begging to see you cum on your own fingers and warning you to stop breaking the rules.

The moment your eyes meet his in that mirror, you cum, body shaking as you continue fingering yourself through your orgasm, riding out your own high. You only pull your fingers from your fluttering walls once you’ve stopped trembling with pleasure, your body falling slump against the seat. Your heavy pants are the only sound in the car as you recover from your orgasm.

Another thought pops into your head. You’ve already come this far, what’s one more daring act? You bring your slick coated fingers to your lips, staring down Minho as you suck on them. Your tongue dances around your digits as you clean them of all of your juices. Only once your fingers are clean, do you pull them from your lips with a dull pop.

You pull your attention away from Minho, instead facing the window. Your breath hitches as you realise you’re only a few streets away from your shared home. The knowledge that punishment for your daring actions is only minutes away fills you with an excited fear, your pussy already trying clench around nothing.

Minho remains silent, no longer looking in your direction at all as he rounds the final corner before pulling into the driveway. He turns the car off, still not saying anything as he climbs out of the vehicle. He opens your door for you. Part of you want to remain defiant and exit via the other rear door, but you know better. You’ve pushed things far enough. You climb out the door that he’s holding open, swallowing dryly when he closes it gently. His actions are calm, too calm, and your mind whirls with the possibilities of what he has in store for you.

He locks the car and you both walk towards the house. You’re expecting him to do something as soon as the front door closes behind you both, but he doesn’t. He’s still too calm. He hangs the keys up on the key hook and takes his shoes off. You take yours off as well, watching him the entire time for any hint of what’s to come. You get nothing.

He starts to make his way upstairs towards your shared bedroom, and you know to follow him without him even saying or signalling for you to. The walk to the bedroom feels as if it drags on for hours, your heart drumming loudly in your ears, the sound of Minho’s footsteps seemingly echoing off the walls around you. Your hands grow clammy as the nerves truly set in, but more than nervous, you feel excited. This is exactly what you wanted. You wanted the rush that being a brat provides, pushing all the right buttons to get exactly what you want from Minho. It’s been too long since you’ve been absolutely used, and you’re more than ready for the fun that’s about to ensue.

Minho walks into the bedroom, you trailing closely behind. He stops at the door and you step past him. He closes the door, something he doesn’t normally do, and you know you’re in for the time of your life.

“Strip.”

The sound of his voice startles you, the nerves having you on edge. You stare at Minho for a moment, eyes wide while your brain process what he said.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Authoritative. That’s the best word to describe the tone of his voice. Strong, commanding, it leaves no room for arguing, and you find yourself doing exactly as told. Even as your dress hits the floor, lacy lingerie joining it, Minho still doesn’t look at you. Instead, he’s busy rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up. His movements are languid, lazy, he’s taking his sweet time getting to you.

You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed with a huff, impatience getting the better of you. Even the view of Minho’s exposed forearms isn’t enough to keep complacent for a moment longer, and the sound of your huff is what finally makes him look at you for the first time since you orgasmed in the car.

His eyes are dark again, and it’s as if they bore into your very soul. He takes a step towards your sitting figure, unbuttoning one of his top buttons. If you were to ask him why he undid the button, he’d say it was to allow himself some more breathing room. But you both knew that the real answer is that it’s for show.

He stands directly in front of you and reaches one hand towards you. You flinch back slightly, not knowing what to expect after earlier events. He pauses, waiting for you to move back forwards, and it’s only when you do that he continues moving. He places his hand on the top of your head, gently stroking your hair.

The tug is unexpected. He waits just long enough for you let your guard down before he grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls. Hard. Your scalp stings, but you love it. The yank draws a whimper from your lips, and Minho smirks almost evilly at the sound. He holds you by your hair, head tilted backwards as he stares you in the eye.

“I wonder what I’m going to do with a whore like you,” he says, voiced laced with something akin to feigned sympathy. Pretending to be sorry for you over the punishment that’s instore for you.

“No, you don’t,” you reply, both of you knowing full well that he’s not wondering at all. He has plans for what to do with you, he’d had almost the entire car ride to plan.

“You’re right,” he admits. A small chuckle leaves his pretty lips as he still stares down at you. “Now get up.”

He releases your hair, and you slowly stand up. He switches places with you, sitting himself where you previously were while you stand before him. He taps his thigh with his index finger, and you know what he’s telling you to do. You straddle the toned muscle, lowering your hips until your pussy is resting against the fabric of his pants.

Your hands rest upon Minho’s shoulders while he leans backwards, his arms propping his body upright. You stay still, waiting for his go-ahead before you start grinding against his thigh. He doesn’t give it. Instead, he attaches his lips to the column of your throat, sucking harshly. He drags his teeth against your skin, making you shiver at the sensation. Only when the entire expanse of your throat and chest is covered in marks does he give you the nod to start riding his thigh.

The first drag of your hips has your body shuddering, the pressure against your clit delicious. None of the following grinds feels as good as the initial one, they feel great but it’s just not quite as electrifying. Minho leans forward, bringing one of his hands up to your face. He prods at your lips, prompting you to part them. He slides his index and middle fingers into your mouth, reaching as far back as he can and pressing down on your tongue, aggravating your gag reflex.

You choke on his fingers and all he does is chuckle, sliding his fingers out of your mouth. He moves his hand down, wrapping it around your throat and squeezing. The restriction to your airflow is euphoric, it drives you closer to your release. You adjust your leg, and your knee lightly grazes Minho’s bulge.

Your eyes widen slightly, it hadn’t considered just how hard your actions would make him. He hisses quietly at the accidental contact and you smirk. You know you shouldn’t do it, but what can you say? It’s too much fun being a brat. One of your hand moves south, cupping Minho’s constricted cock. He snaps. His other hand comes up and all you can register is the sting of your cheek seconds after his palm strikes against it. You’re still in slight shock when his grip on your throat tightens and he pushes your body away, forcing you off of him, only releasing your throat once you’ve slipped out of reach.

“Now you’ve broken the number 1 and number 2 rule.” The look in his eyes is lethal, you’ve broken the two most important rules all in one night. That’s a first. Usually, you could eventually persuade Minho to give in to what you want despite being a brat, but you had a chilling feeling that you wouldn’t get your way this time. “Kneel.”

Not wanting to make things worse for yourself, you drop to your knees. You feel small, Minho leaning over you making you feel like his prey. And you absolutely loved it. He grabs your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your face up towards him as he leans in close to your face.

“I’m gonna make you wish you were never a brat.”

The words seep into your core, his voice laced with a sweet poison and you know; you have to be good from here on out. It’s not often that just a sentence alone can stop your bratty behaviour for the night, but the way he says the words is nothing short of a warning that you’re not going to get what you want.

“But first, you made a mess on my pants,” he lets go of your chin, allowing you to look down and see the wet patch that your slick left behind on the fabric. “And you’re gonna clean it up.”

Your eyes shoot back upwards to look Minho in the face, unsure of exactly what he means. And he chuckles sinisterly at your confusion, absolutely loving that you don’t know what’s coming.

“Lick it clean.”

Your face immediately begins to burn as the realisation of what he said sets in. He wants you to lick your juices from his pants. You both know that your slick has soaked into the fabric and that you licking it will only cause a bigger mess, but that’s not what this is about. Minho wants to humiliate you. He wants you to be ashamed, for your face to burn in embarrassment as you do something so dirty as licking the mess you created from his pants.

And it’s working.

You’re slow to move closer to him, balancing yourself on your knees with one hand on his clean thigh and the other on the bed next to his other leg. You look Minho in the eye, silently begging him to not make you do something so humiliating, all he does in response is place a hand on the back of your head and roughly push your face closer to the mess. He doesn’t let go until your tongue is pressing flat against his pants, licking a stipe up the pre-existing wet patch. It’s faint, the taste of yourself, but the filthiness of the act has you moaning. You try to keep quiet, not wanting the further embarrassment, but Minho already heard you.

“Pathetic,” he spits out, and you moan again at the degradation.

You continue licking at his pants, and it’s not long before all you can taste is the fabric itself. Minho doesn’t care, however, as he doesn’t signal for you to stop. He’s thriving off of this, you can tell from the twitch of his bulge that he’s loving the sight in front of him. He lets you continue for a few more moments, before pulling your face away by your hair.

“Get on the bed,” he orders, and you do just that, scrambling to your feet and climbing on the bed.

You lie in the middle, your head resting against the pillows as you watch Minho stand up. He crawls up the bed until he’s hovering over you, and you feel so small under him. You’re caged between his arms but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. You don’t think, just wanting to get this show on the road. You reach up, grasping one of his shirt’s buttons in your fingers. Minho is quick to react, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“You don’t fucking learn, do you?” He holds your wrists together with one hand, his grip none too gentle, as he glares down at you. You can’t help but cower under his glare, making you feel even smaller.

Without letting go, he leans over to his bedside table, opening the draw and reaching into it. You’re too busy staring at his face to register what he’s retrieving, but when you feel the cold metal and hear the steady clicking sounds of the cuffs closing around your wrists, your attention snaps above your head. He cuffs one wrist, sliding the connecting chain around the metal bar at the head of the bed before cuffing your other wrist.

You tug against the restraint, testing the limits of your reach. The way the metal digs into your skin makes you whimper, but you love it. Minho slowly runs his hands down your sides, groping at your thighs. His fingertips leave goosebumps in their wake, making you shiver in anticipation. He slowly moves his body down your own, until his face is right in front of your dripping core.

He places sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, occasionally sucking harshly on the skin before continuing kissing. You moan at the feeling, wanting to tangle your fingers in his hair and bring his lips to your clit. But you can’t. You’re subjected to Minho’s unwavering patience as you’re squirming under him. A harsh smack to the flesh of your inner thigh has you stilling, the small burn of the contact causing you to clench around nothing.

“Stop moving.” He goes back to his teasing touches, and you struggle to remain still. The tension in your lower half building to an almost unmanageable extreme.

“P-please.” The beg leaves your lips before you can stop yourself, and you can feel Minho’s smirk against your skin.

“Please what? What do you want me to do?”

“Please make me c-cum,” you whisper, completely embarrassed to be begging for anything from Minho. You expect him to laugh at you, to tell you that you’re not going to be cumming at all tonight as your punishment for acting up. But he doesn’t. He says something worse.

“Don’t worry, kitten. You’ll get to cum soon enough.”

It’s the way he says it and you finally know what he has planned. Overstimulation. Overstimulation isn’t one of your favourite things. You didn’t particularly love it, nor did you hate it. You and Minho had had the conversation a few times about what sort of punishments are allowed. Overstimulation had come up a couple times as something that you don’t love but can tolerate enough to allow as a punishment. He’d asked you a few times if you were sure, wanting confirmation that you weren’t going to allow something that you didn’t want. You’d assured him, saying that you liked it enough that you’ll let him do it on occasion.

That’s probably why he chose this particular punishment. You’ve been a major brat and while it’s got to be something you at least enjoy; it’s still meant to be a punishment.  

There’s no warning before his lips attach to your clit, immediately sucking harshly against the nub. Your hands immediately try to grip his hair, but they can’t. You whine, trying desperately not to buck your hips up further into Minho’s face as he licks and sucks at your folds.

    The metal digs further into your skin, uncomfortable, barely bordering on painful, but still entirely tolerable. It doesn’t take long. In fact, it’s embarrassing just how quickly he brings you to the brink of pleasure, dangling over the precipice’s edge, ready to tumble over into your second orgasm of the day. Minho keeps you there, dangling off that ledge just because he can. It’s one of his favourite things to do, to make that knot in your stomach tighten impossibly tight but not give you enough to let it unravel.

He’d done this to you so many times, he’s almost perfected his technique. Applying pressure that’s a fraction too soft in a spot that’s a fraction off from exactly where you need it. He loves toying with you, seeing just how far he can push you before letting you cum.

The bedroom is noisy, filled with the clank of the handcuffs’ chain against the metal bedframe, your desperate moans and Minho’s tongue lapping at your dripping folds. All the combined sounds mix together to create a filthy concoction that truly adds to the vibe of the night’s events. It’s arousing. But the only sound you can focus on is your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as Minho finally pushes you over the edge, allowing you to cum. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body convulses with the pleasure, your orgasm more intense than any you could provide yourself.

Minho’s mouth doesn’t let up, not even after you’ve finally come back down from your high. The tingles of pain brought about by the overstimulation are almost overwhelming, but you don’t want to stop. You’re enjoying this more than you thought you would. But there’s no way you’ll tell Minho that; he’d never wipe the smirk off his face if you did.

He keeps going, adding his fingers to work your walls alongside his mouth. Your back arches, your body non-stop shaking, and by your fourth orgasm, there’s nothing you can do to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. Minho looks up at your face, noting the fucked out expression and tear stains, and pauses.

“Colour?” he asks, voice soft and gentle for the first time since dinner.

Your brain is foggy, clouded over as you try to think, contemplating what to respond.

“Y-yellow,” you say, deciding it’s better to give yourself a moment for your brain to clear.

Minho pulls his fingers from your core in response, placing sweet kisses along your thighs, his hands rubbing your sides soothingly while he waits for your go-ahead to continue. It’s a couple minutes before you give him the nod. He asks you once, twice, if you’re sure. The last thing he would ever want is to do something when you’re not ready or don’t want to.

“I’m sure,” you say, smiling at him softly.

“Okay, just one more, kitten. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Any words you were going to say are immediately replaced with another moan as his lips reattach to your clit, his fingers delving deep into your walls once again. You’re sensitive. Far more sensitive than you’ve ever been before. And the fact that it only takes a minute for you to reach your release again just adds to all the humiliation you’ve experienced in the course of a single evening.

Just as he said he would, Minho pulls away once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, sliding up your body and connecting his lips with yours. His swipes his tongue across your bottom lip before delving into your mouth. You can taste yourself on him and you love it. You moan softly into the kiss, but it doesn’t last nearly as long as you would’ve liked before Minho is pulling away and climbing off the bed. You whine at the loss, but quickly shut up as you watch him finally undress. He undoes his buttons slowly, your eyes following his every move with such desperate desire. He tosses his shirt to the side, quickly ridding himself of his pants and underwear as well. He hisses as the cold air hits his throbbing cock, leaking a small amount of precum. Mentally, he had all the patience in the world to drag this out. But physically he was aching for a release. He climbs back onto the bed, quickly manhandling you so that you’re flipped over, arms crossed at the wrist, further restricting the amount of movement you have. He runs his hands over your ass cheeks, delivering a few well placed smacks to each before gripping your hips tightly. He lifts them up so that you’re laying there with your ass in the air and your face pressing into the pillows.

He reaches a hand down between your legs, gathering some of your wetness on his fingers. He wraps his slick covered hand around his cock, pumping himself slowly, coating his length in a mixture of your wetness and his precum.

“You know, if you’d been good, you’d actually be getting fucked tonight,” Minho says, feigning sympathy.

Your head snaps to face him as much as your position allows you to, your eyes wide as you realise what he’s just said. He chuckles almost sadistically at the look of confusion on your face.

“B-but-”

“No buts, kitten. You know that your actions have consequences.”

You whine at that, but you know better than to argue with him. You know that if you try to talk him into fucking you, then he’ll just make sure you don’t get a dicking down for a whole month. And that would be a nightmare.

He slowly drapes himself over you, holding himself up with one arm while he places his cock between your thighs, resting against your pussy. He uses his legs to push yours together, effectively sandwiching his cock at a pressure he desires. You whine again, your throbbing cunt aching for him to be inside, but you know you’re not going to get it.

Minho slowly begins to thrust, and the drag of his cock against your slit feels better that you expected it to. It feels good, nowhere near as good as if he were actually inside you, but still good nonetheless. He slowly starts to speed up, chasing his high that he’s been putting off all night. The soft grunts that leave his lips are music to your ears. You moan, as much as you love having Minho pounding into you, having him to this is still so much fun.

He continues to thrust, and you can tell he’s already getting close. All the build up to this moment had him painfully hard so it’s no surprise that he’s already near his end. What is surprising, however, is that you’re near your finish as well. You never would have expected his actions to feel this good and it has the knot in your stomach tightening. And Minho can tell from the pitch of your moans.

He adjusts his hips so that he’s rubbing against your slit harder, the head of his cock applying just enough pressure to your clit every time he thrusts forwards. The extra sensation is what does it for you, causing you to cum one final time with a particularly loud moan.

“You’re such a slut, cumming just from this,” he says breathlessly. He’s not far behind you, the feeling of your shaking thighs enough to push him over the edge. He thrusts once, twice more before cumming with a loud groan, burying his face into the back of your shoulder.

He takes a moment to recover before pulling away, slowly standing up and setting about cleaning you up. Your body feels heavy as he moves around you, and you barely notice him carefully unlocking the handcuffs and placing your arms on the bed. Hardly registering him moving you under the covers. He grabs a tissue, quickly wiping his cum from the top of the covers before ultimately deciding to just put it in the washing machine in the morning. He looks at you, smiling at your tired form. As much as he loves having kinky fun with you, he loves this more; being able to see you all sleepy and soft. It’s adorable.

He walks to his set of draws, quietly pulling out a pair of underwear and pulling them on. He turns back to you just as you lazily open your eyes. He heads back over to you, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Cuddles?” you ask quietly, looking at him hopefully.

“Of course, my love. I’ll just grab you a glass of water for the morning and then I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod and he stands, quickly heading out to the kitchen and rushing back, glass of water in hand. Even though he’s gone for barely longer than a minute, you’re almost asleep when he returns. He places the glass on your bedside table before quickly climbing into the bed next to you. He pulls you into his chest, slowly running his fingers through your hair soothingly.

It’s nice, how peaceful the moment is, and it has you falling asleep in mere seconds. Minho smiles when he hears your quiet snores. He reaches over to grab his phone, being careful not to jostle you too much and he sets himself an alarm for a reasonable time in the morning while still making sure it’ll go off before you get up. He wants to make sure he gets up first so that he can make you breakfast for when you awaken. Only when he sets the alarm and puts his phone back down does he finally allow himself to close his eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep, holding you in his arms.

[miiamour]

Hi!!!! I don’t know if you are taking requests, but could you write some ron weasly angst??? Maybe with a fluff ending? Maybe him making the reader feel insecure or something like that, I don’t know :) Love your writing so much :):)

am i that girl you dream of?

fem!slytherin!reader x ron weasley

summary: you and ron are in a secret relationship— scared of what others will think, but it still doesn’t stop you from getting insecure when he’s flirted with.

warnings: angst, fluff at the end, mentions of cheating, insecurities in relationship, alcohol, illusions to sex/making out hermione slander but only if you squint.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: eek thank you for the request <3 btw i’m literally 4 away from 200 so hopefully this helps me hit 200!

⊱ ──── ˗ˏˋ✧*♡*✧´ˎ˗ ────⊰

the smell of alcohol lingered throughout the room, along with the slight aroma that sweaty teenagers gave off when they’re dancing against each other. the lights in the gryffindor common room were slightly dimmed with a red tint, but still bright enough to see hermione granger flirting with your boyfriend.

granted, she didn’t know— nobody did, but that didn’t mean she have to grab onto his arm every time time he made a joke. it was upsetting to say the least, but it technically wasn’t your place to say anything but it took every ounce of self control to not walk over there and kiss him, showing everyone that ron belongs to you or ram hermione’s head into the wall; either worked for you.

you and ron had been secretly dating for a few months. you were both terribly afraid of what others thought, him more than you; he was a gryffindor with slytherin hating friends and you were a slytherin.

honestly, it was but fun in the beginning; pretending to hate each other, sneaking around, the thrill of possibly getting caught was exhilarating but now, now it just exhausting. you were tired of simply just hanging out in his dorm when no one was around; you wanted to be able to hold his hand in the halls and go out in hogsmeade dates like regular couples.

at times you questioned if he was ashamed of you but he assured you that he wasn’t— although you weren’t so sure now, it had been months and he had yet to tell a soul about the two of you and he was allowing hermione to hopelessly flirt with him.

to be fair, you weren’t sure if ron was even aware that she was flirting or not. but you, you knew. the whole common room could’ve seen it but ron wouldn’t recognize a flirt attempt if it danced naked in front of him wearing dobby’s tea cozy.

but you couldn’t do anything about it; you simply stood there, watching the boy you weren’t supposed to love but did, as girl— who, now that you think about it, is prettier— flirt with him.

your usual self confidence was being teared down, bit by bit, as you watched hermione bat her eyelids at your boyfriend. your finger danced along the rim of your red solo cup that was previously filled with beer, some muggle alcohol— which is nothing like butterbeer.

you honestly couldn’t blame ron, just look at her; she had perfect smile, big doe like brown eyes, and she was smart— ron always admired that about her. you knew that ron had a crush on hermione prior to the two of you dating but he always assured you that he didn’t have any feelings towards her anymore but watching them flirt gave you doubts.

“hey y/n, you alright?” blaise zabini had interrupted your thoughts, he attempted to look in the direction of your gaze “weasley? why’re you staring at him? you fancy him or something?” he asked teasingly.

“what? no! i’m not staring, i just— just zoned out, that’s all” you lied as you turned to the drink table to pour grab something stronger— firewhiskey.

blaise and you had been bestfriends since your first year, and you hadn’t told him about you and ron. you felt a bit guilty about it but ron always told you that you guys could tell people when the time was right, but the time was never right.

“alright then, but if you do fancy him you better hurry up because seems like him and hermione are going up to his dorm” he said casually while pointing his hand in their direction, ron and hermione were walking up towards the boy dormitory.

you turned so fast, you were sure your neck would’ve snapped. “what!” you felt your face redden and your stomach was doing flips.

“y/n!?” blaise called out after you but you were already half way to ron’s dorm.

your heart beat faster with every step you took, exasperation flooding through your veins. your hand— your body shook as it gripped on the door handle, you quickly prayed that what you thought what was going on, wasn’t actually going on.

you forcefully opened the door, the first thing you see being ron— shirtless. “ronald weasley! what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing!” you yelled out at him as if the door didn’t startle them enough.

“y/n! hey, what— what’re you doing here?” his eyes bulging out of his sockets as he jerks his head towards hermione.

“y/n?” hermione yelled out as she backed up away from ron with a rag in her hand.

you ignored hermione and turned to ron, “what am i doing here? i see you walk up to your dorm with another girl! what do expect me to do?” you walked closer to him, pushing on his bare chest with your finger.

“what? another girl?“ hermione mumbles to herself. “if i may—“ she interjects only for you to put your free hand in her face and shout out, “no!”

“how dare you ron! if you didn’t want to be with me anymore, just say so! merlin, you are infuriating—

“no, love, hermione spilled firewhiskey on my shirt!” he throws his hands up in defense as you kept walking towards him until his legs hit foot of his bed.

“i don’t give a damn if hermione spilled—“ you stopped yourself once you properly processed his words “she spilled firewhiskey on you?” you looked between ron and hermione, she was holding a rag, helping ron get cleaned up.

“yes, darling, firewhiskey; that’s why we came up here and why my shirt’s off” he explained before reaching for another shirt to slip on, and before you could apologize hermione spoke.

“l-love? darling? wait, wait— are you two together?” hermione babbled out like a fish out of water.

“surprise!” ron mocked jazz hands,

“nearly eight months” you add.

hermione’s nostrils flared as she walked up to ron “why. didn’t. you. tell. me.” she hit him with the rag between each word.

“y/n, i apologize if he has done anything stupid in the last eight months; he hadn’t had a girl tell him what he’s doing wrong” she said half-jokingly.

well now you felt worse; you thought hermione had tried to after ron, they really were just friends.

“i’ll leave you two alone now” hermione began to walk out the door, “oh and don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone; secrets safe with me” she said after peering her head through the door and ‘zipping’ her lips together and throwing away the key.

you sat next to ron, your heart was slowing down from the fast pace it was previously going at. after a few moments you started, “i’m sor—“

“i’m sorry” ron interrupted.

“why’re you sorry? i’m the one who went all crazy girlfriend.” you shifted closer to him.

“it’s understandable. if i saw you go up to your dorm with another guy, let’s be honest, i’d be way crazier” he placed a hand on your knee and sparks erupted. you were so sensitive to his touch that even the slightest graze of an elbow when you sat next to each other left your stomach doing flips.

“but i still shouldn’t have. you assured me that you and hermione were just friends and i didn’t believe you— i was just being insecure” you said the last part i’m a quiet voice, slightly hoping that he didn’t hear.

ron moved closer to you and wrapped an arm around you “there is no need to be insecure, you’re the only girl i want to be with”

“am i?” you asked, shifting away from ron.

“what’s that supposed to mean? there aren’t any other girls that flirt with me— right?” ron’s eyebrows furrowed.

“this isn’t about girls flirting won’t you l, i’m just saying— do you really want to be with me? am i that girl you dream of?” you stood up in front of him. your throat burned with every breath.

“of course i want to be with you!” this time he stood up.

“then why do act like you’re ashamed? why do we have to keep our relationship hidden?” you yelled out, partially startling ron. tears brimmed your eyes but you refused to let them down.

he walked up to you and grabbed the sides of you face. ron’s eyes were glossy and sunken; filled with guilt and sympathy. “i am not ashamed of you. i’m scared of what people would think about us— people would think ‘what a weird couple, she’s way too fit for him” he flayed his arms mockingly.

you playfully slapped his shoulder, “you care way too much about what others think, ron. besides, i’m tired of sneaking around.” you said more seriously.

“so what? you want to break up?” ron sat back down on the bed and pressed his lips together to keep from smirking.

you took a deep breath to keep yourself from ripping ron’s head off, “no, i— ugh, nevermind” you began to walk away

“i’m joking!” ron gently tugged your arm, and pulled you towards so you stood in between his legs. “y/n, do you want to be my public girlfriend?” he asked you as he wrapped his arms around you.

you put a finger to your chin, pretending to be thinking about it. “hmm, no thanks” you replied.

ron began poking and tickle at your sides.

“you know, if this is your way of getting me to be your girlfriend— stop it!— it’s not a very good one” you giggled in between words.

“merlin, you’re lucky i love you” ron breathed out, not quite realizing what he said.

“you what?” you asked breathlessly.

“oh shit, erm— i love you. yeah. i love you. that’s okay right? i mean you don’t have to say it back but if you want—“

you interrupted ron by kissing him, “i love you too” you mumbled against his lips.

everything worked out. ron loved you and you loved him back. fireworks erupted in your stomach every time you kissed him and your brain went foggy; focusing on nothing but him.

turns out that you are that girl he dreams of.

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