#and it’s easy to romantize the whole thing once you’re not there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannieehaee · 2 months

Note

Ahhh I’m so excited that your requests are open, you’re like my fav fic author!! If it’s alright would you be able to do a fic where Wonwoo proposes to the reader please? Thank you!

content: bf!wonwoo, established relationship, fluff, proposal, etc.

wc: 1368

a/n: thank u so much u are so so sweet T-T i used a few of wonwoo's own quotes to carats in the confession hehe hope u enjoy!! <3

masterlist

for the first time in his life, wonwoo's brain had completely shut off.

he had no plan. he was completely unaware of what his next move should be. the ring had been purchased exactly two weeks ago (wonwoo knew you so well that he was extremely confident you'd absolutely fall in love with his pick), but no further steps had been taken after that.

it's not that he was an anti-romantic or anything like that. you'd always let him know how loved his words made you feel. you had singlehandedly revealed to the world a romantic side of jeon wonwoo that even he had been unaware of. it was always just so easy with you. loving you was the easiest thing he had ever done. there was never any thinking behind the loving gestures he gave you, nor behind the fondness in his eyes every time they met your own. which was why he currently stood once again with no plan in mind.

there was just no perfect way to ask you to be his forever when he already thought the two of you to be imbedded to each other in all ways possible. although a ring on your finger would make wonwoo the happiest man alive, he already knew you were his as much as he was yours. however, he wanted nothing more than to give you a grand gesture as he expressed to you how badly he wanted to spend every one if his remaining days by your side.

but being wonwoo, he knew no grand gesture would do. he was certain that he would not be able to go through with a grand gesture without throwing it all aside to pour words straight from his heart as he expressed the purest of love towards you. there was no possible way for him to hold back the moment he finally pulled that tiny squared box from the bottom of his sock drawer. the mere thought of looking into your eyes with the intention of making you his would have a plethora of love confessions flying out of his mouth without him even realizing.

despite all this, he had formulated some sort of plan to propose.

tonight was the first time his busy schedule would allow the two of you to share a bed due to the short break he had from tour. he figured that since he finally had you in his arms for the whole weekend, he would cook you a meal (courtesy of mingyu's training) and get on one knee afterwards. it was very simple, but he knew you'd appreciate an intimate setting for such a moment.

however, that had been the plan for tomorrow. today he was simply meant to finish brushing his teeth and join you in bed, finally able to hold you through the night as your breathing soothed him to sleep. yet this was, unsurprisingly, an impossible task for him to complete, as his mind became blank the moment he stepped into your shared room and saw your soft figure waiting for him in bed.

how was he supposed to hold back from begging for your hand in marriage when you were already so fully his? when he knew that a ring would bring him a promise to end his days in your arms until the end of eternity? it was as if time had slowed as he stepped into the room, his eyes full of love as they refused to look away from your form perched in bed, making just enough space for him to fit in there. and he knew that the moment he laid in that bed you would shape yourself to fit perfectly against him. he knew that you'd place yourself in his hold and play with his hair as he told you about his day (despite already having shared bits and pieces of it with you throughout the day), commenting on the things he did today and making plans with him for tomorrow. he knew you were completely unaware of his feelings in this moment as you laid there as soft and pretty as you always did.

yet knowing all these things did not prevent him from from making a quick stop at his drawer and hiding the tiny little box in his pajama pants – pants you would later insist he takes off because you love the feeling of his bare skin against yours. you still hadnt realized he'd been watching you this whole time, as your gaze was still on the tv in front of you. this gave wonwoo the perfect opportunity to nervously approach you as he called your attention away from the screen.

like always, you met his eyes with a smile full of interest for what he was about to say. if he wasnt sure before (which he completely was), then he was sure now. he needed to propose to you right in this moment. he needed to remember the mundane, the day by day that he would have with you for the rest of your lives. his heart was beating for you, and his lungs pumping out air just so he could breathe out his next words.

"marry me?", completely out of breath and with nothing but love in his eyes, he dropped to his knees next to the bed, his extended hand holding your own while the other pulled out the boxed ring from his pocket.

your eyes jumped out, but you didnt seem too exalted apart from that. you scoot over to sit at the edge of the bed, speechless as your eyes began to cloud due to the tears that would soon begin forming in them.

before you could say anything, wonwoo spoke up once more.

"im sorry. i didnt plan it like this, i just ... i couldn't help myself. i couldnt watch you be the love of my life for another moment without making you as mine as humanly possible. i know i couldve given you a dinner and fireworks, or even brought the guys out for a serenade ... but that's not us. this. this is us. this is what i want for the rest of my life. you in my bed, ready to hold me in your arms at the end of the day, letting me do the same any time you come home tired from work," he paused to hold onto both of your hands, looking up at you with adoring eyes as he inhaled, "i hope to become your daily confort in the way you have been mine. even when i'm not tired, i can lean on you. i always know happiness is just around the corner, because you are all i see ahead of me. you are my youth, my past, my future, you are everything. will you please become my forever?"

it was hard for wonwoo to put his feelings for you into words. his relationship with you had always been an enigma of emotions for him; emotions that left him feeling a level of comfort he never thought possible. he had always chased for happiness. he'd always been of the philosophy that one must build their own happiness; that one must live and experience life in order to discover the meaning of the word. except you had thrown him a curveball somewhere along the way and shown him what it truly meant to be happy pretty early in his life.

and now he felt the most happiness he had ever experienced in his many years of life. no matter how many accomplishments he achieved, nothing had thus far compared to seeing you smile with tears in your eyes, nodding crazily at him as you threw yourself into his arms, completely disregarding the ring in his hand. because you didnt care about a ring or a title. he knew you simply wanted to be his in the same way he needed to be yours. there was no better scenario in wonwoo's mind than your enthusiastic approval and the promise of a lifetime chasing happiness together. and now wonwoo would get to have you in his bed, waiting to love him every day for the rest of his life. just like today.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff

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rootbeerworshiper · 13 days

Text

means something

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure

warnings: angst lol

a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different

love, sienna <3

you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.

but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.

‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.

it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.

but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.

he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.

that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.

April 17th, 2022

dear Matt,

i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.

it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.

i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.

how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.

“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.

“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.

it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.

“wait someone sent the letters?”

“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”

“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”

the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”

“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.

“i thought you’d come around Matt”

now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.

along with this, i know everything about you.

i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.

i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.

i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.

i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.

whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.

“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.

he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”

i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”

“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”

i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.

you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.

how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?

i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.

we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.

“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.

“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.

“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”

“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”

“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.

but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.

it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”

it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.

i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.

you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?

i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.

that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.

i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.

this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.

i just have one question for you.

did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.

i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.

but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.

anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.

i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.

thanks for listening, y/n.

you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.

it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.

regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.

a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #Spotify

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ravenslvt · 9 months

Note

Hi hi! Can I pls request NSFW alphabet for König? :D he's my fave. Thanks!

KÖNIG NSFW ALPHABET ☆

💗i’ve never done one of these but i’m in total könig fucking obsession rn so i cannot wait for this one. for reference i’ve only seen the mw2 campaign which he was not in but this is my sort of take on him so it might be ooc so apologies in advance. pure smut💗

(got this from a template online:) )

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

even after fucking you, he won’t leave you without a cleaning and knowing if you are ok. if you’re still awake, he’ll offer a shower, a towel, or some food. or even just come comforting cuddles until you both drift off to sleep.

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

he didn't like to show it but, he loved his own cock. he never realized how large he was until he met you. your eyes widened the first time you'd seen it. he had a look of satisfaction on his face for days, though no one could see it behind his mask. he was humble about it though, knowing it's only for you to have.

he loves your whole body, but mostly your thighs. he loves when you're laying in bed, too tired or able to fuck him properly, he will shove his large, needy cock between your thighs, holding into your hips as he ruts into you. he'll do this until he finishes, but needs you even more after seeing his cum on your thighs. "fuck" he'd groan.

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

some nights when you’re lazily fucking before bed, he’ll leave his cock in you after he cums, pushing it as deep as it can go before you both fall asleep. his arm wrapped around you in a seemingly innocent mannor.

he loves when you swallow his cum without even needing to ask. just watching your face of satisfaction makes him hard again.

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

he’d never admit it, but whenever you send revealing photos he goes fucking crazy over it. if he’s at work he’ll leave you on read for a bit to take care of his problem in the bathroom. he just wanted you so bad :(

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

i don’t think my boy has any experience besides his own hand. once he met you he could cum from the thought of you. you had consumed his thoughts and he had already learned a decent amount from the internet, but the real thing was unbeatable. he got used to what you liked and is able to bring you both pleasure skillfully. he can fuck right.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

cowgirl: he’s such a large and tall man that it’s easy to get lost and overpower you, so sometimes he likes to let you ride him, he holds onto your hips as you slam onto him while he watches you intently, your face lost in pleasure.

he also loves fucking you when you’re on your back, he’s either standing at the end of the bed while you drag your nails on his bare back. or you’ll both be on the bed and he’ll be on his knees slamming into you. it’s even better with your legs on his shoulders and he can hit even deeper, taking control with the pace using his strength.

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

he’s mostly serious. well at first he was just nervous. but the second he had a taste of you he knew you had ruined anyone else for him. he likes to tease though, or pepper you with kisses through his mask, making you smile.

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

it’s a straight line of hair, starting from below his belly button. (he says its natural) it’s dark and thick, perfectly accommodating his thick cock.

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

he is just entranced with you. he'll be slamming into you staring at your skewed up face and he won't have anything else on his mind but him inside of you. he'll kiss you and talk you through your orgasm. "come on, you can give me one more" he would encourage you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he’ll only do it when thinking of you or if you send him an intimate photo, to show him you missed him. (he sent a picture back of his clothed bulge in his uniform, telling you he’d be coming home soon) but he’d much rather just feel you in person.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

size kink: does this even need an explanation? this guy is fucking huge. he wouldn’t even dream of hurting you, but he will dominate you and ‘overpower’ you sexually all day. he will never forget the squeeze when he glided into you for the first time, not used to his size. you were gasping and clawing at him, he was too big. he just stares at you getting used to his size until you are comfortable enough for him to move deeper. he'll praise you telling you how good you're taking his thick cock.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

against the wall/on a surface: he loves being able to watch your face while he gives you exactly what you want, proving the ways he knows your body so well. the strength and control he has over you, he would never use it in a bad way, only to make you feel good. when you two bought your first home, the first place you fucked was the bare kitchen counter, boxes not even unpacked yet. you scolded him for making a mess on the counter and he just got horny again.

he’ll fuck you in the shower anyday, most likley holding you against the wall as he’s just so tall and big.

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

the way you feel around and against him is engrained in his brain. anytime he gets distracted he will think of your mouth, your thighs, your-

he fucking loves it when you make noises for him. or when he's practically splitting you open on his cock. or the way you feel around him when you cum.

he also knows when he goes home he will always have you to come back to.

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

nothing that has to do with anyone else touching you. not that you would even let that happen. can you blame him? he only wanted you for himself. you didn't mind.

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

i think he’d love it either way. he loves you on your knees in front of him, gagging over how large he is, he won’t take his eyes off you. he wont stop rutting his hips until he finishes. (unless you tap his thigh to stop of course! he wouldn’t want to overwhelm his little toy)

but he LOVES going down on you. overtime he learned all your sweet spots and he will make you cum at least once (on his mouth) before actually fucking you.

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

he's just so large he has to ease in at first, not wanting to hurt you. he always has to stretch you out. (preferably making you cum once or twice beforehand with his fingers or mouth). but once you're used to his size and allow him to go he'll start rocking. he always gets too scared to use all of his strength, in fear of hurting you. you assured him you wanted it and he gave in, but being careful.

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

no :( he wants to take his time with you! he wants to draw out so many orgasms for you until you can’t take it anymore :((

unless you’re teasing him out in public around his friends and he had enough and fucks you against the wall in the nearest private room until you’re apologizing, knowing they could most likely hear him slamming into you through the door along with your pleads for release.

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

oh he wants to try everything you’re comfortable with. he wasn't picky as long as he could fuck you. sometimes out at dinner he'll tease you under the table, having to act normal in front of people.

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

usually he could go for fucking hours. only tapping out once you’re satisfied. he’ll leave you dripping with his own cum until you’ve both had enough (which usually takes awhile)

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

he'd rather make you feel good with his own body. but if he wants to overstimulate you he won't hesitate to take a vibrator to your sensitive spot until you're a mess under him. you love to tease him too, sometimes setting the vibrator on the highest setting and edging his tip until he's begging.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh he is the fucking worst. sometimes he'll come home from a bad day and take it out on you, making you grind on his large strong thigh until you cum a few times, only then would he give you his cock.

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

he’s always making some sort of noise. it’s either panting, grunting, moaning, or straight up whining. when he cums he’s the loudest, especially when he’s inside you. he’ll say your name over and over with praises and curses until he’s rode out his orgasm.

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

he’s way too big for most condoms. that’s it.

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

well we all know this man has a humongous cock (cough cough long and thick). he is 6 foot fucking 10. enough said.

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

will fuck for hours. he just has so much energy and need for you it consumed him. if he wasn't inside you, he was wishing he was :((

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

most of the time you pass out first and he follows suit, giving you a small kiss before cleaning the both of you off and going to sleep with you. he won’t rest unless he knows you’re comfortable.

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impishjesters · 7 months

Text

Jax x Reader w/depression/suicidal tendencies

warning(s): mentions of depression/suicidal behavior/tendencies, nothing graphic though, mentions of morbid/dark humor note: it's only mentioned that he has feelings for you, whether romantic or platonic is left up to the reader. A/N: I think this is the fastest I've ever wanted to write for something utterly new to me, usually it takes a while of being into a series or liking a character to wanna write something. This was...less than twelve hours? This was probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in a while.

Nobody was safe from Jax’s pranks, including you—regardless of how much he found himself gradually enjoying your company.

It’s actually a right of passage at this point that every new person (as rare as it is) who shows up is subjected to some awful prank to gauge just how much of an easy or difficult target they’ll be.

You handle the pranks with ease. Sure it can be annoying, but there’s little that can seemingly “kill” you here.

Which is a shame really—well, only slightly.

Your therapist would’ve probably found it a good thing, trying to off yourself in a digital world where sleeping and eating were no longer required likely meant the inability to die.

Not in a traditional sense anyway.

You’re the only one ballsy enough to prank Jax back, which isn’t easy but when a prank is successful? Oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction.

There’s an unspoken prank war back and forth, but typically the other’s are the subject of your guys’ pranks. Somehow it feels more rewarding with the joint effort.

It's not often, but sometimes Jax's pranks will go a step too far and trigger something unpleasant. He's not really sure why you just walk off like that, those pranks don't make him feel as satisfied for whatever reason.

Once a special type of friendship grows between the two of you, the pranks lessen—not entirely though—nah he loves the unsuspecting reactions of a prank you didn’t see coming.

The pranks become less hostile and more casual—he’s got a reputation to keep after all, regardless of how he feels about you.

The initial reaction to someone being told there was no way out was to panic, you however, didn’t..well not outright. Your initial reaction is dark humor—even with the whole censorship thing.

Ragatha is the only one initially disturbed/worried over your dark sense of humor, which should be expected from one of them since they’ve been there longer.

Jax is aware of your morbid sense of humor and often plays along with it, especially in the beginning—later in the friendship though? Yeah, there’s no noticeable physical change, but he’s only a tad worried.

When not tormenting the other’s Jax stuck with you, or vice versa.

After the attempted drowning and standing (willingly) in harm’s way of one (or three) of the rides, Jax keeps your bedroom key closer in hand than the others.

And honestly? Ragatha doesn’t even blame him. You aren’t distant from them, but you do tend to favour Jax’s company. Regardless of her feelings about him as a person, it becomes obvious that he feels something less hostile towards you compared to them.

It takes a while before you finally confess to Jax that prior to being trapped in this digital hell, you were medicated for depression/suicidal tendencies. And while the digital world took away things like needing sleep and food, it didn’t get rid of the thoughts or urges.

Now—had this been someone else telling him all this? He’d be very uncaring and probably make a nasty “joke”, but because it’s you? He’s treading into foreign territory here when it comes to emotions.

There’s not really anything he can say that would make you feel better, but he does show a more rare tender side, offering to be there whenever you need him. Just to backpedal like a tsundere and say that he won’t always be free ( a lie, the fuck else does he have to do?), but he’ll try and make time for you during those moments.

He doesn’t do some pinky promise bullshit, I mean he can and would, but he doesn’t expect his offer and attempts to do that much (words of promise aren’t on the same level as a prescription drug after all).

But if being around his rude ass self and doing the occasional nice *gag* gestures of like, hugging or whatever helps you, he’ll do it—just, not with others around obviously. Again, man has a reputation.

From then on Jax is more aware of where you are around him at all times, not in a suffocating way though. Well, not intentionally, he has his moments. But he’s trying, again this is new territory for him.

Jax makes it his unspoken, personal goal to make sure you don’t tread the line of becoming abstracted.

Bonus (fluff)

Jax will make an attempt not to immediately recoil from your touch when others are present.

I’m not talking “Whoops, sorry to bump into you”, I’m talking about grabbing onto his arm or being in his personal bubble because you need something grounding or whatever.

More often than none his immediate reaction is to just use you to lean on, elbow or arm resting on top of your head to give you some contact and pressure. (He does it out of habit even when you don't need it.)

Sure he probably looks like an ass to others, but after a while, they sort of just get used to it since you never bring up being offended by the act.

But in private? Yeah, sure shoot, just don’t expect him to put any effort into returning anything. Maybe the drape of an arm or his legs, but if it’s really bad? He’ll lay or sit there while you cling to him like a koala.

Jax actually finds it kinda funny how tightly you hold on whenever he gets up.

“Wow, you really holdin’ on there.”

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc jax #jax #jax x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months

Note

Can we get the obey me boys(the brothers + dia, barbs, solomon, and simeon) reacting to mc having severe period cramps? Would they get all demon-y at the smell of blood?

Love your stuff btw!

Signed, a yandere junkie~

I'll do two for now 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Period | Yandere Obey Me

For those in the devildom having a draw for chaos and mortal pain it’s quite normal for blood to bring about a different kind of reaction. But to the surprise of no one period blood and the whole menstrual cycle is a complete bafflement to all who catch a whiff. Don’t worry though, you have the brother and your various friends. This surely won’t strike any of them to have an unusual streak in emotion and self-control, right?:

Lucifer

“It’s that time I’m suspecting?”

“Yes.”

“Understood rest easy, take your time to rest my dear.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. Do you doubt my promise to keep you?”

One of the most casual about it

He absolutely has done research for this exact occasion

But nothing is like experience in taking care of you himself

As well as the compulsion that has him being just as reactive as you

“You seem a bit different today Lucifer…”

“Am I? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oooh is that a gift from (Y/n)--”

“dON’t ToUCh tHaT!”

“...”

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s with me this week.”

You’re not with him that’s what

For all the necessities he delivers he’s been keeping his distance

Taking the advice of the human care books he gave you your space

After all who better to deal with the human-female innerworkings than a human-female herself

But something feels wrong more than usual

And it only seems to stop when he returns to your side at the end of the day

“Perhaps the hormones that are at work in you create a…guardian of sorts…out of me.”

He doesn’t really understand, all he knows is that when you were preparing to go to RAD he frantically calmly decided you’d not be attending

His excuse reasoning? That he would hate for any lesser demon to feel what he’s feeling

That and he’d actually try to kill anyone who shows such similar inclination to protect you

“If anyone should stay to soothe you in this great time of need. I’m not above massacring any threats to you while you’re at your most vulnerable..”

Generally he’s quite tame

…compared to his brothers

Diavolo

“Hey (Y/n) why’d you run off like that I thought we were having a good time.”

“Diavolo!?”

“Oh…hey (Y/n) if you’re hurt it’s okay to tell us we have tons of things that help heal humans.”

“Ugh! No that’s not what’s happening here!”

“Don’t be embarrassed here i’ll help!”

“Aghghgh!!!! Barbatos! Barb–Ah! Don’t you dare!”

A scolding and prompt lesson from Barbatos is very much in order

For someone so adamant on urging the blending of their worlds he doesn’t really know about this side of humanity

And unfortunately he’s never been one for backseat learning

“(Y/n), we’ve spoken and Diavolo would like to propose a hands-on-lesson with you about your menstrual cycle.”

“Uhm what kind of lesson?”

“One that will require he familiarize himself with all aspects of this process. Something that would preferably stimulate the five senses.”

“....”

“....Lucifer!!!! Solomon!!!”

Even better it has to do with you

What better way to strengthen your bond by having to monitor you

Not only for your safety but for all of humanity

“Hey later on we should definitely watch that movie together!”

“Oh yeah I thin–”

“I’m sorry but she cannot!”

“What why not?”

“Because she’s coming with me! The best place for a woman on muenster cycle is with me at the royal palace.”

“Uhm that’s not tr-”

“Here I’ll take you now!”

He’s going to be hard to teach

But once you sit him down or snap at him one too many times

He’ll decide listening to you is the best course of action

In turn it will definitely build a relationship between you two

It may not be as romantic as he planned

But he’ll take it….for now

After all there’s one every month

“That was fun! I can’t wait until the next time!”

Because he’s actively testing for it he might find some demons and creatures that react to it

But he won’t actively experiment with you in danger

Because it’s just not a good look to brutally murder every other subject of his that has a reaction he doesn’t like

“Next month I’ll have to convince them to let me get a swab or whole container full that’d be really hot.”

#yandere obey me #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #obey me shall we date #yandere obey me lucifer #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer x reader #yandere diavolo #yandere diavolo x reader #yandere obey me diavolo #yandere obey me shall we date

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

Note

This may be a rather weird ask/request to attempt but I love how you write and figured I'd tried!

If you can, may I request an Alastor x reader (your choice on romantic or platonic) based around the whole concept of "an unstoppable force meets an immovable object". Basically always smiling Alastor meets a sinner who self proclaims that they can't smile and Alastor does everything in his power to make them smile once.

If you can't do it, I completely understand!

Oooh! Okay. Okaaay! I can try this out. It may be a bit odd and I can see whatcha mean. Reader/Leitora doesn’t smile, Alastor tries to make them smile but it just doesn’t work. If that’s what you mean, I get it! And it’ll be platonic since you know, easy for this situation! Sorry but I can’t write a lot here so it’s kinda short…

Alastor- Smile, my Dear

Alastor has never felt so stunted yet so interested in the same time… you don’t smile, he has never seen a single bit of a grin on you. A brand new Hotel client that has even admitted openly you don’t smile. He has only ever seen such a neutral deadpan or a straight-up scowl

And he doesn’t like that at all… he doesn’t like it

“Come now, darling. Why always the frown? You’d look so much better with a smile”

You just ignore his ‘request’ and continue frowning… how wonderful. Not only does he have one annoying non-smiler, he now has two and that drives him up the wall…

Alastor does subtle but obvious tricks to make you smile, making you say specific phrases that’d always illicit a smile upon saying, giving out bad dad jokes when least suspected. Many things and all fail, which frustrates him but he is too much of a stubborn prideful man to quit

Alastor wonders why you even decline smiling. What’s wrong with smiling? Did somebody suck all the happiness out of you or something. There has be a reason behind it and he’ll dig it out of you one day

Alastor always does things for you. He gives you food, he gets you unimportant items, he does all of this to see he can draw out, even the smallest grin and whilst, he is confident he’ll succeed everytime… he doesn’t and it drives him mad

Alastor is enamoured just by your lack of grins. He doesn’t love you but he is in love with the challenge and the work of making you smile. Even threatening does nothing, you don’t respond to even him threatening to harm you if you don’t smile

How is even it possible?

Nevertheless, Alastor won’t give up and he will keep trying until he wins but he is unaware that you’re not budging against his attempts

“Look, my dear. Isn’t that funny? Hmm… you’re laughing but you’re not smiling… that’s so odd”

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arkhammaid · 1 year

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ YOU SAY "I LOVE YOU" FIRST.

fandom. honkai star rail

pairings. dan heng, gepard, jing yuan x gn!reader

content warnings. fluff, written in lowercase, not edited/proofread

word count. 0.7k

notes. head empty only hsr men ;-;

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ dan heng.

it happens on a mission, with just dan heng and you visiting the planet in need of help. until now, you haven’t encountered any major problems and you’re already wrapping up. instead of focusing on gathering more information, the two of you take the evening off, to enjoy some time together. all alone, without your friends butting in, without himeko interrupting you with a sly smirk, without dan heng focusing on ancient text instead of you.

hand in hand you walk along the busy streets, admiring the many products in display, children running around. a small smile forms on dan heng’s lips, his eyes bright and you can’t help but think how beautiful he is.

he’s beautiful and yours, yours to love, yours to cherish and how you cherish him. his soft spoken words, his dry humor, his ‘nerdiness’ as march always says. does he know how much you love him? despite not being a pair for too long, despite being his lover for mere weeks, you know with your whole heart— you love him.

“i love you,” is what you blurt out then, watch how he stops walking, how his eyes widen, how a blush spreads on his cheeks. “i love you,” you repeat, more soft spoken this time.

“i love you too,” he whispers back, pressing a kiss on the hand, he has held the entire time.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ gepard.

loving gepard is as easy as breathing. you have done so for so many years, admiring and loving him from the distance, watching how he goes after his duties as captain of the silvermane guards.

you love him for his sense of duty, both to his noble house and the silvermane guards. you love him for his soft spoken manners, yet firm when needed. you love him for his gentle heart, for his desire to protect his home.

you loved him and you continue to love him when he takes you out on your first date. you loved him and continue to love him when you share your kiss, when you go on your second and third date, when you officially become a couple.

you loved gepard for a long time and you will continue to love him, with your whole heart and mind.

it’s why you say it, after mere weeks of dating, it’s why you say you love him. maybe he has already suspected it, you don’t know, so you gather your courage and utter those words when you're on another date.

“i love you, gepard,” you say with a clear and strong voice, turning your head to him. “i love you”, you say once again, watch how he ducks his head to hide his blush, how he raises his trembling hands, placing them on your cheeks, oh so careful as if he could break you.

“i love you,” you whisper, after his lips leave yours, breath mingling, his ice blue eyes softening at your words. he presses his forehead against yours, shuffling closer, closer to you.

“i love you too, my dear.”

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ jing yuan.

being the hopeless romantic partner of the general jing yuan was something out of your daydreams. but it truly happened, in a whirlwind of emotions, you got closer to the man of your dreams. so close that he held your hand with a soft smile, spoiling you with lavish gifts and lingering kisses.

how could you not fall for him, your affectionate emotions turning into a bright, passionate love for him. how could you not love him, when he holds you close, protecting you even if there isn’t any danger near.

hopelessly in love you are, with jing yuan, head over heels— your heart is his, not that he knows. maybe he suspects it, chuckling at your meek stutters when he has stunned you with a particularly intense kiss once again.

while jing yuan showers you with gifts and his affection, the only thing you can give him is your love. oh and how you wish for him to acknowledge it, the deep deep love you hold for him.

i love you, is what you think, when you share your daily meal.

i love you, is what you think, when he takes your hand in his, tracing the mindless lines on your skin with his fingers.

“i love you,” is what you say when jing yuan comes back from a mission. he greets you with a soft smile and before he can say anything, you tell him how much you love him.

“i love you too, beloved mine.”

taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @keqism , @aimixx , @venexus , @themercyverse , @stellumi

if you want to join the taglist, please read this post!

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #dan heng x gn reader #gepard x gn reader #jing yuan x gn reader #dan heng x you #gepard x you #jing yuan x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng fluff #gepard fluff #jing yuan fluff #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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wttcsms · 8 months

Text

most noble ; kento nanami.

pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 3.6k synopsis your beloved knight nobly defends your honor by participating in a tourney to duel the man who insults you. he does not realize that the reward for his victory is your hand in marriage. content contains medieval royal au, knight!nanami & princess!reader, age gap (reader is 22/nanami is 29), longing!!! it's about the pining!!!, requited unrequited love, romantic tension, nanami being hopelessly in love but feeling undeserving :( author's notes omg can y'all just get ur acts together n marry each other holy shit (make me make a pt. 2, plssss)

Kento Nanami knows that he’s made a mistake, perhaps one so major that not even taking another professional role within the castle will be able to cover it up. Then again, it’s not like him leaving his post the first time around has resulted in any change. Maybe him leaving only to return back to your side once more is precisely the reason why he’s making so many mistakes.

For example, earlier this week, his fingers brushed against yours while handing you your tiara. Or, just before that, he found himself remaining only two steps behind you rather than the traditional three. And maybe he’s just paranoid, afraid that he’s being obvious and overly obnoxious in his displays of affection for you, but he did not earn the title of Head Knight of the Royal Guard for no reason. The king — your father — would not have bestowed such a prestigious title to a man who is not always proceeding with constant caution.

To any visitor of the court, Sir Nanami is just another highly skilled knight, dedicated to protecting the princess. To Nanami, he is a lovesick fool trailing after you, failing to mask his true affections.

No one sees through him, except for the one person who he so wishes were blind to his feelings.

Easily excitable and sweetly endearing, you are the heiress to the throne and future ruler to citizens who adore you. It’s hard not to fall for your charm or the kindness that you bestow upon anyone who comes across your path. You’re considered to be the sun that shines over the kingdom, and Nanami knows of no star that shines brighter than you.

But behind your youthful exuberance and seemingly carefree attitude is a highly perceptive young lady of the court. With your cheery smiles and laughter that seems to flow so easily and rings through the halls of the castle, it is easy to forget that one day, you will be queen, and that you have been raised your whole life to fulfill your royal duty.

It is easy to remember this fact when you’re sitting atop your throne, staring down at him as he kneels.

“You regret it,” you say, absentmindedly tracing the intricate designs carved onto the handles of your seat. You still haven’t learned how to stop moving your hands every time you’re nervous. It’s your only tell; for as well as you can read Nanami, he can read you even better. Your anxiety only causes him to tighten his jaw, his eyes focused on the lower half of your face because this is all his role allows him to do. He should not dare to look Her Royal Highness in the eyes; not at his lowly level in comparison to you.

You frown at his silence, knowing that he’s doing it to raise the barrier between you two. Four years ago, he hadn’t tried to shut you out so firmly, and every day since then, you have spent all your free time wondering why he wants nothing to do with you.

The it you’re referring to could be many different things. “It” could possibly be him leaving his station as your personal knight in order to become one of the king’s advisors. “It” could also be referring to him returning to be your knight. Or maybe you’re talking about the kiss the two of you shared a fortnight before he decided to stop being your royal guard. The kiss that lingers on his lips, even to this day. He doesn’t even have to think hard enough to remember the wonderful feeling of your soft lips pressed against his own, or that saccharine taste of yours that is yours alone; no fruit, no candy, nothing has ever been able to mimic your sweetness. The kiss that never should have been. The kiss, the kiss, the kiss.

Maybe “it” is none of that, or maybe it’s all of the above. He knows you, and you’re not going to clarify because you believe that Nanami is a mindreader, and for the most part, he is. He knows what gowns you favor, and when you’re sleepy during court meetings, and he knows what order you’re going to eat the food on your plate. He knows where you go when you want to be alone (to the horse stables, to be with your beloved mare), and what your favorite tiara looks like, and that you snort when you laugh (but only ever in the presence of those you are truly comfortable with; only ever in the presence of him).

He does not, however, know about his place in your heart.

You wonder if he’s forcing himself to be unaware of your feelings for him. Sometimes, in the corner of your eyes and in your shadow that he follows, you catch him staring at you longingly, hopefully. With a type of reverence that differs from the one grateful citizens show you. This one feels… intimate. A look meant to be shared only with lovers.

Lovers.

You had toyed with the idea four years ago, when you were eighteen and bright-eyed and much too hopeful for your own good. You craved romance and passion, and whichever suitor you came across, you always found them to be lacking, none of them comparing to Sir Nanami. And you knew, with girlish glee, that it is Nanami that you want. And then came that fateful afternoon in the gardens where you kissed him, and you swore that flowers started blooming on the bushes as a result. The birds were singing, and the sun was shining much brighter than ever, and you felt weightless. As if the inevitability of having to rule a kingdom was no longer a point of stress, and the burdens of your royal duty slipped from your shoulders and melted into the dewy grass beneath you. All that existed, for that brief second of bliss, was you and Nanami.

And then, two weeks later, he resigned and decided to work for your father.

His return had come as a surprise to you. During the years he stopped being your knight, you saw him only once a week, if the fates decided to bless you. For the most part, you’ve grown accustomed to only seeing his broad back or a flash of blond hair passing you by in the corridor. You wonder if he knows that he’s your first kiss — your only kiss. Surely he must. He’s spent a good portion of his life ensuring that your virtue was to never be tainted.

“I do not know what you speak of, My Lady.” He says. He speaks so little to you now that you savor the sound of his deep baritone, the smoothness of how words seem to glide off his tongue. Nanami takes something so mundane as talking and turns it into an art.

“You regret the duel.”

And here lies the grand mistake that Nanami cannot figure out how to fix. He believes that being cold to you will perhaps dissuade anyone from assuming how closely he holds you to his heart (his act of emotional indifference towards you is so convincing, even you sometimes believe it), but he’s only human. He is a slave to his emotions — the utterly irrational ones, the ones that make him act a fool — as all men are.

Nanami hadn’t intended on participating in the tourney. He’s nearing twenty-nine, after all. He’s reached the highest status any knight could possibly aspire to, and he no longer is a squire from a commoner family with something to prove. Tourneys are a thing of the past, a memory from his boyhood.

But there are visitors from all sorts of lands who came down for this royal celebration. A lowly lord from a kingdom ruled by Mahito is precisely the type of scum that does a disservice to all men. Crass, vulgar, and entirely immature, Lord Shigemo has a dastardly reputation for never keeping his disgusting comments or filthy hands to himself. And while it was not his touch that threatened your very virtue, it was the perverted proclamations he kept declaring that had Nanami seeing red.

“She’s a bit old for my liking, but I still bet her maidenhood is ripe enough for the taking. I’d love to see her bleed all over my cock.” Lord Shigemo snickers as he loudly announces this, his beady eyes staring right at you. He’s smart enough to not say your name, lest his head end up on a stake outside your father’s castle, but he’s dumb enough to not heed the warnings he’s been told.

The princess is protected by the bravest of all knights, and the most honorable of all gentlemen.

For that comment alone, Nanami is ready to unsheathe his sword and behead Shigemo, but he knows he cannot. There has been no direct threat to you, and Nanami has just enough restraint to remember that his anger cannot get the best of him. He is not to harm visitors to the kingdom, no matter how deserving of punishment they are, because maintaining peace between the lands is of the utmost importance.

But the way your body stiffens and the almost sickly pallor of your face that occur as a result of Lord Shigemo’s verbal transgression is enough to have Nanami pledge his participation in the dueling tourney. He signs his name in the same competition bracket as Shigemo’s, and you’re pleasantly surprised when Nanami kneels down, asking for your favor and a blessing as he goes to represent your family.

“And what has made you so keen on dueling now, hmm? Why, King Gojo has spent the better half of today trying to goad you into jousting with his knight.” You’re teasing him, eyes sparkling, your gibe gentle and without malicious intent.

You’re not trying to convince Nanami to not partake in the tournament. In fact, you take secret pleasure in watching his swordsmanship, even going out of your way to sneak into the training grounds and watch as he practices moves you’re certain he’s already perfected. For a man with so much muscle mass, he moves swiftly and with a sharp, quick precision that does not befit his firm build.

“It is to defend my lady’s honor.” He curses himself for being so forthright with his intentions. He could have told you that it was to honor your family, and it would not have been a lie, but it wouldn’t have been said with the same strong conviction he speaks with now. It is not the king or any of your cousins that he is fighting for; it is just you, only you.

Removing the brooch from your gown, you attach it to the cloth of his shirt that is soon to be covered by armor. It’s a dark blue gem, matching the color your house favors.

“My most noble of all protectors. You have my favor, then, and all my prayers.” As you always do is the real ending to your sentence, but you fear that if you reveal too much, then Nanami will not be able to focus and give this tourney his all. You wonder if you should reveal the prize for winning, but decide against it at the last minute when he dares to look at you, a glimmer of the same affection from four years ago shining in his dark eyes. It’s a similar look to the one he gave you before your lips met his.

The urge to kiss him again rises, your heart thumping against your chest, but all you allow yourself to do is smile at him.

The tourney itself is a quick event. Usually, it lasts far longer than the hour it takes up, and the gambling a tense, exciting affair. With Nanami entering at the last minute, most gamblers changed their bets to go all in on him winning, and for a good reason. He makes quick work of every opponent unfortunate enough to be paired with him, and the only time Nanami truly takes his sweet time is when he comes face to face with an anxious Lord Shigemo.

Even toying with him doesn’t give Nanami much pleasure. Shigemo is a weak opponent, a poorly trained fighter, and a pitiful excuse of a man. Tired of his time being wasted, Nanami has the man shaking underneath the sharp point of his sword within seconds after deciding he is done playing these games. Even after being declared the winner of the whole tourney, an outcome he isn’t surprised at, he doesn’t feel any satisfaction. Flowers and handkerchiefs are being thrown at him as a show of respect and celebration, but only when he looks up into the crowd, his eyes focusing on your smiling visage, does he feel an ounce of pure happiness.

Before he can climb the steps leading to the showbox that houses all the prominent royal families, one of the tourney competitors stops to congratulate Nanami.

“Lucky bastard.” It’s Naoya Zenin, Crown Prince of the neighboring kingdom. Nanami is glad he was not competing in the same bracket as the prince; not because of a difference in skill, but because wounding a Zenin’s pride was considered treason to them.

“It’s just flowers.” Nanami says. He doesn’t understand what Naoya’s fascination with them are, but perhaps it’s the glory of being a victor that he’s envious of.

“Don’t be a fool.” Naoya scoffs. “We all know the real prize that every damn man was trying to claim.”

Nanami is still confused. Of course, Naoya talks incessantly and most of the time, Nanami does not care what the Zenin heir has to say, but he did notice that there were far more competitors signing up for the tourney than previous years. Is there a monetary reward no one told him about?

“So, how much for you to forfeit?” Naoya asks, completely unaware of Nanami's ignorance.

“Pardon?”

He rolls his eyes, as if Nanami is some type of undomesticated animal, untrained to following commands. Nanami wishes he had been placed in the same bracket as Naoya now, treason charges be damned.

“Never mind, then. I’m sure the princess herself will just make an announcement rescinding the reward.” Naoya smirks at the thought of that, and Nanami struggles to fight the urge to demand the prince stop being so cryptic and to just explain what the hell he’s rambling on about. Rescind what reward?

A familiar head of pink hair pops up by his side, and Nanami immediately recognizes his young student. Eager Yuuji Itadori is smiling widely, happy for his teacher, and for once, Nanami is grateful that young Itadori does not know how to beat around the bush.

“Wow, congratulations, Sir Nanami! I had no idea that you wanted to marry Princess [Name]! Will you still be able to train me as Prince Consort?”

Nanami’s blood runs cold. Oblivious to his mentor’s sudden anguish, Yuuji continues on.

“Her Royal Highness was so kind to open the competition for her hand to any class. Of course, some people dared to criticize her and claim it’s because she’s becoming too old to be a maiden so she had to cast a wide net, but I know plenty of ladies who are unwed in their twenties. Will you still be her knight as her husband, or will that role have to go to someone else? Say, Sir Nanami, are you feeling alright?”

You’re beaming with pride at your beloved knight’s victory, yet nervousness at watching him interact with Prince Naoya started creeping in. You start to relax when the Zenin heir walks off, but your peace of mind shatters when you watch Sir Itadori engage in conversation with Nanami. You watch his facial expression tighten, his body tense up, and you realize that Nanami knows. He knows that he has a right to be betrothed to you, and it dawns on you, from his poor reaction, that this is not the outcome he wanted.

Which leaves the two of you here, alone in your throne room. Your father had found your idea of a tournament for your hand in marriage to be a silly one, but he had indulged you because you promised to be betrothed to someone at the end of it. By standards of the court, you’re much too old at twenty-two to remain unwed.

You’ve been plotting ways to get Nanami to participate, even daring to consider commanding him to do so, but never has being a victim to malicious comments ever been as beneficial as it has today. Nanami signed up for the tourney by his own will! His words ring in your ear, looping incessantly as you watch him fight.

It is to defend my lady’s honor.

He does not know the effect that title has on you, at least when it’s coming from him. My lady. His.

“If the idea of marrying me causes you so much ire, I will call off the betrothal at once and relieve you from your knightly duties, as well.” You do not want to do such a thing, but… You love Nanami. You love him so much that if it is your presence that pains him, you will take your leave now.

“No.”

The word comes from somewhere deep within himself, throaty and raw, like it hurts to say it, but it had to be spoken. The fates demand it.

“No?” You repeat, slowly, almost as if the word is something foreign to your tongue.

“Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to speak out of turn.”

“You do not want to leave me?” You say it softly, but it’s just the two of you in this room. Every word exchanged seems to bounce around the walls, ricocheting, hitting the both of you in the face.

“Princess, it is not a matter of my wants.” Why must you torture him so? While he knows he can never marry you, there was a second of elation that excited his soul at the prospect of being your betrothed. He’s lived a rough life, his calloused palms and hardened heart proof of it. He hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in fantasies for quite some time, but you inspire just enough hope that it stabs him in his heart. Daring to dream of the impossible is a fool’s game.

“Ask me what I want.” You say it firmly. He obliges.

“What is it that you want, my lady?”

“You, Kento.”

No title, no boundaries. You have spoken his name, and that sting in his heart, the harmful side effect of his hope, grows. He dares to look up just a bit more, his eyes staring deep into your own.

All the walls Nanami painstakingly built to separate you two threaten to crumble right before his very eyes. His battlefield tact is of no use here. Had this been any other battle, he would charge forward with his head and sword raised high. Retreat is not an option for a soldier such as himself.

So why does he flirt with the idea of fleeing now?

“I am not deserving.”

“It hurts me when you say that.” And you say it with such a wounded look on your soft features that Nanami knows it must be true.

“I am not even a lord.” He’s fumbling for an excuse, anything to convince you that marrying him would be a mistake. He finds your stubbornness endearing, but he must get you to understand that you will regret marrying him.

“I have no need for a lord.” You retort, almost scoffing at the notion.

“I am seven years your senior.”

“Much better than the suitors decades older than I.”

“You must understand that I am not the gentlest of men. I am not built for care.” The tips of his ears turn red, a giveaway to his shame and embarrassment at the fact.

“I am not fragile.”

Stubborn. You are much too stubborn for your own good.

“I have tainted you.” He chokes out, staring you directly in the eyes. Showing his sins to the broad daylight filtering through the stained glass windows of this room. “I have stolen a kiss meant for your husband.”

“I kissed you! You have tainted nothing, you have robbed no one!” You exclaim, shocked at his misery.

“And now I have stolen your fate.” He continues. “You should not wish to marry a man like me, and you will only come to regret this impulsive decision of your youth if you force this betrothal.”

“Am I forcing you, Sir?” The title seems almost like a mockery, especially after you exchanged it for his given name just minutes prior.

There is nothing Nanami can say that will change your mind, and he realizes this. He realizes the pure selfishness of wanting you to not change your mind, but he is stubborn as well. The tension in this room wraps around the both of you, binding you two together. It’s a battle of wills, now.

Perhaps it always has been.

“You will regret this, my lady.” This is what he says. Inside, he begs of you, please do not regret me.

Satisfied at seemingly having your way, you settle into your throne, leaning back.

“So noble of you to want to save me from what you consider a dastardly fate, but I shall be the judge of that.”

And thus, the engagement period begins.

#nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #one shot #drabble #imagine #jjk x reader #royal au #omg me actually posting two fics in one week? it's the end of the world

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clumsyromantic · 6 months

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NOT ANOTHER RAINBOW LEGACY CHALLENGE

Welcome to this ten generation legacy challenge based on vibrant colors! Inspired by all the other color themed legacies out there, because who doesn’t like basing their sims whole personality on a color (I know I’m a sucker for it lol). I won’t put a long list of rules here, because at the end of the day I want this to be your gameplay and story that you create. I will suggest that you follow each generation, but if something isn’t to your liking, by all means, change it for yourself. With that being said, don’t claim this challenge as your own, even if you tweak it. Remember, though, legacy challenges are all about having fun!

If you play don't forget to tag me here or on instagram @clumsy.romantic or use the hashtag #notanotherlegacy. I would really love to see some gameplay/stories!

Generation One: Licorice.

You never stay in one place too long. As a criminal, you’re always on the run. You don’t commit to anything. The only thing you’ve ever truly loved and committed to is your career. When it comes to actual love, you dip as soon as it seems like things might get serious. You don’t like being that close to people, letting people in like that. You can’t trust anyone, or so you thought.

Traits: Evil, Non-Committal, Romantic. (Additional: Self-Assured, Mean)

Aspiration: Serial Romantic.

Career: Criminal.

Have more enemies than friends.

Have a child with an enemy.

Move to a different world each time you age up.

Only your child(ren) can be your partner in crime.

Get caught cheating at least once.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Mischief, Handiness and Programming skills.

[Packs used: None]

Generation Two: Pearl.

From the time you could hold things, you were coloring, drawing, painting, anything that could help you express yourself. You are the exact opposite of your parent. Maybe you’re like the other one? You wouldn’t know, though. You never met them, nor heard a single truth about them. That doesn’t matter, though, because as soon as you can, you move out of your parents home so that you can start your own life and family. Love isn’t easy, as you don’t truly know what it’s supposed to look like, but with how kind and caring you are, it almost comes easy to you.

Traits: Creative, Cheerful, Family-Oriented. (Additional: Loyal, Good)

Aspiration: Big Happy Family.

Career: Painter.

Complete the Artist Prodigy as a child.

Move to a different world from your parent.

Marry someone with amazing compatibility (or someone with similar traits).

Have 5 children.

Have a bowling night with the family at least twice a week.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Painting, Parenting and Bowling skills.

[Packs used: High School Years, Growing Together, Parenthood, Bowling Night]

Generation Three: Latte.

You come from a big family, and you’ve always loved every bit of it. However, nothing can compare to the love you have for fitness. As a teenager, you become a simfluencer who models athletic wear and shows off your healthy lifestyle. As a Young Adult, you constantly have dogs. You tell yourself all you need is dogs, until you meet another fitness buff who you end up having a baby with.

Traits: Active, Dog Lover, Vegetarian. (Additional: Ambitious, Outgoing)

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals.

Career: Simfluencer.

Have a good relationship with your parents and siblings.

Go to the gym four times a week.

Change your hairstyle once a week.

Have at least 3 dogs as a YA.

Become a B-lister.

Have a baby with someone you meet at the gym (bonus points if they have the active skill).

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Fitness, Entrepreneur, Media Production, and Pet Training skills.

[Packs used: Cats & Dogs, High School Years, Get Famous]

Generation Four: Dandelion.

It was hard for you to relate to your parents, as they were much more outgoing and sociable than you were. Keeping up conversations and being around people always made you feel drained. You preferred being by yourself with a good book. It was usually a sci-fi book about robots. It’s no surprise that you’re the first in your family to go to university and you end up working in engineering. Your best friend, perhaps lover as well, is a robot you built. Seems like a good life to you.

Traits: Loner, Overachiever, Socially Awkward. (Additional: Bookworm, Geek)

Aspiration: Nerd Brain.

Career: Engineer.

Attend university.

Build a servo bot.

Be romantic partners with the servo.

Woohoo with the servo in the rocketship.

Only adopt or have science babies.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Logic, Handiness and Robotics skills.

[Packs used: High School Years, Discover University]

Generation Five: Emerald.

You want to make the world a better place for the next generations. Everything you do involves Mother Earth. You live off the land, garden and fish for your food. You raise chickens for your eggs and cows for your milk. You also fabricate and make things for yourself, others and your animals. Some of the things you create you sell on Plopsy for income. You have a baby with someone you’re engaged to be married to. But as soon as you can, you pack up and leave them, taking the baby with you.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Freegan. (Additional: Green Fiend, Recycle Disciple)

Aspiration: Master Maker.

Career: Plopsy Seller.

Live in Evergreen Harbor (If you don’t already, move there as a YA).

Live in Port Promise, where you must make the eco footprint green.

Additional Challenge: have the Simple Living lot challenge in Evergreen.

Knitted and Fabricated items can be sold on Plopsy when you need simoleons.

Get engaged and try for a baby until one of you is pregnant.

Once you have reached green for the eco footprint; break off the engagement, take the baby and move to Sulani.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Knitting, Fishing, Gardening and Fabrication skills.

[Packs used: Eco Lifestyle, Nifty Knitting, Island Living]

Generation Six: Turquoise.

Growing up on a beautiful beach with your single parent doing everything for you made you into a spoiled brat. The only thing you actually want to do, besides sleep and chill, is fashion photography. You have a real eye for fashion. Although, you don’t really have a knack for picking up work. You’re more likely to be suntanning than actually doing your job. The few times you do accept a job, you fall in love with the model. Instead of falling happily in love together, you are constantly fighting, and to make matters worse, you have a kid together. Something neither of you wanted.

Traits: Self-Absorbed, Lazy, Hates Children. (Additional: Jealous, Squeamish)

Aspiration: Beach Life.

Career: Freelance Fashion Photographer.

Accept a job once a week.

Have a baby with one of the models that has the Mean, Hot-Headed or Evil trait.

Only have 1 child.

Have a bad relationship with your child.

Move to San Myshuno as an Adult.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Charisma and Photography skills.

[Packs used: Get Famous, Outdoor Retreat, Moschino, City Living]

Generation Seven: Ruby.

You constantly heard your parents fighting over something. They were never not fighting. You found your solace in music; listening to it, writing it, playing instruments, just everything about it. You get married young just so you can move out. But you’re in love with a musician on the side. You’re not really sure if you should keep seeing them, or stick by your spouse. You never really were good with decisions, especially ones that could really impact your future.

Traits: Music Lover, Hot-Headed, Childish. (Additional: Erratic, Dance Machine)

Aspiration: Musical Genius.

Career: Live off tips and fame.

Marry and move out as a YA.

Have a bad relationship with your parents.

Cheat on your spouse with someone who plays an instrument or sings.

Only earn money from tips when you play instruments or sing in public.

Have either a dance battle or karaoke night once a week.

Obtain fame, at least c-lister, from music.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Singing, Dancing and any instrument skills.

[Packs used: Get Famous, City Living, Get Together]

Generation Eight: Magenta.

You’ve always used humor and pranks as a way to cope with everything going on in your life. No one but your best friend really gets you. It’s hard for you two to get over being friends when you realize that you have feelings for each other. Except, after having a baby together, you realize you were better off as friends. You still civilly raise the child, just not under the same roof anymore.

Traits: Paranoid, Goofball, Gloomy. (Additional: Clumsy, Cat Lover)

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief.

Career: Social Media.

Have a childhood best friend.

Have a baby with said best friend.

You and your best friend fall out, but you still raise the child civilly.

Have at least 1 cat.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Comedy, Writing and Mischief skills.

[Packs used: Cats and Dogs, Strangerville, City Living]

Generation Nine: Tangerine.

You prefer the finer things in life. You live in the city, but as a young adult working in law, you often take vacations to Mt. Komorebi. Where, when you fall in love with a local and have children, you take your children there often. Not until you retire, do you and your spouse move there. In the meantime, you enjoy the time you spend there; skiing, snowboarding, rock climbing, sightseeing, etc. You dream of your vacations while at work.

Traits: Adventurous, Kleptomaniac, Bro. (Additional: Lactose Intolerant, Materialistic)

Aspiration: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer.

Career: Law.

Take 2 vacation days a week to go to Mt. Komorebi.

Marry and have children with someone who lives in Mt. Komorebi

Continue living in San Myshuno until you retire and move to Mt. Komorebi.

Steal one item a day.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Skiing, Snowboarding and Rock Climbing skills.

[Packs used: Snowy Escape, Cottage Living]

Generation Ten: Aubergine.

Your parents always showed you the luxurious sides of life. Treating you to everything and anything you could ever imagine. It lit the way for your future career as a critic. You enjoyed being able to put your 2 cents into whatever you could get your neatly, well kept fingers on. You also always looked and presented to be your best self.

Traits: Neat, Foodie, Snob. (Additional: High Maintenance, Perfectionist)

Aspiration: Party Animal.

Career: Critic.

Host 3 parties a week.

Each party has a theme; decorate and cook accordingly.

Get married 3 times (not to the same person).

Have 1 child per marriage.

Don’t get close to your children until they are Young Adults.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Cooking, Writing and Gourmet Cooking skills.

[Packs used: Spa Day, City Living]

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #s4 #thesims4 #sims4 #sims legacy #sims lets play #notanotherlegacy

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oswildin · 11 days

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Loki x Bestfriend!You Headcannons (He’s In Love With You)

A/N: Avenger!Loki AU, Avenger!You

You’re the first person he has ever felt he could just be himself around. There were no titles, no expectations, just Loki. It was freeing.

Loki always searches for you first whenever he hears the latest bit of gossip around the compound (yes, he most definitely is a gossiper, he just loves the drama, and if he can stir the pot, oh he will).

Quiet evenings with you. You force him to watch films with you, and he always grumbles and will consistently commentate through the whole thing, but secretly, he loves it. He loves being able to spend time with just you, away from everyone else.

He thinks he masks his feelings well, he’s known for deception after all, but no… It’s clear to everyone that the man is totally head over heels and would do anything (and I mean anything) for you. They have bets on how long it takes for him to finally tell you.

He didn’t realise what he felt at first, having never really felt romantic love before. Sure, he’d had fancies, but never anything… real.

It took him a long time to realise that yes, it was in fact ‘love’ he felt for you. The moment he realised was when you were both taking a stroll around the compound grounds, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, everything felt perfect. And then you turned to look at him, the sun sitting perfectly behind you, casting you in an almost ethereal glow.

It was then he felt his heart skip a beat, a flutter in his belly, his eyes widening a fraction at the sight of you. He felt sick and excited at the same time. Nervous yet comfortable. Scared yet peaceful. How was that even possible? Even for a God of his own contradictory nature, that all felt so contrasting.

“Loki? You good?” You’d raised a brow, giving him a strange look as he hadn’t said anything in a good ten seconds - which was rare for him.

“Hm?” Loki had blinked, clearing his throat. “I- uh, yeah, yes. Fine.” He had awkwardly told you, nodding, trying to regain composure.

How utterly cliche. Like a scene from one of those awful romantic films you made him suffer through.

Oh, how his gaze softens whenever you’re in the room. Almost like a lovesick puppy. If his past self could see him now, he would’ve called him ‘pathetic’ and tell him to ‘get a grip’.

But current Loki, he didn’t care. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Of course he had to fall for his best friend. It couldn’t have just been simple. Easy. But then again, of course he had to fall for his best friend… To even be considered his best friend, well, that was no easy feat.

He takes any reason to be ridiculously close to you. Cooking? You bet he’s standing right beside you at the stove, moving every time you move to grab a spice. Watching a film? Yeah, there’s plenty of space on the sofa, but on the other side of it he can’t make sure his arm is touching yours. Handing him something? Oh, he is practically grabbing your whole hand just to feel the tingle go up his arm.

There was one time he had overheard Natasha mentioning she was planning to set up a blind date for you. He had never interjected himself into a conversation so fast before.

“A blind date? How… tedious. Besides, doesn’t it seem counterintuitive? Going to meet someone you have never seen before? Don’t even know the name of? They could be a- a psychopath or a murderer, or worse yet utterly hideous and dull.”

Yeah, he handled that with his usual tactile diplomacy. (Sarcasm)

“That’s not how blind dates work, Loki.” Natasha told him with a smirk. “I know the candidate.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better.” Sarcasm, obviously.

Loki was extremely relieved when he found out you had turned down her offer.

“Babe, could you pass me the salt?” You’d once said.

Natasha AND Loki both reached for the salt.

You looked at Loki strangely. Natasha simply smirked. Loki looked extremely embarrassed. He didn’t even like the thought of being called ‘babe’. Well… At least not until you’d said it. Even if it wasn’t to him.

“I thought you said ‘hey’-“ Loki had tried to cover.

You got hurt on a mission? Even just a scratch? Oh, Loki is worrrrieeeddddd.

“Let me see.” He’d insist. “Loki, I’m fine-“ You’d try. “Yes, maybe so, but I’d like to be sure, you mortals are extremely fragile-“ He’d say with his usual dry humour.

He’d dress your wound, even if the med staff had done, he would always find something to critique, something that he could do better. All because he wanted to be the one to make sure you were okay, safe, looked after.

The sun is in your eyes? How dare it, utterly unacceptable, he would not have it. He would destroy it for such an offence. (Not really, but you get the idea).

“Loki, no-“ Tony had said. “Loki, yes-“ Loki had said. “Loki, no.” You had said. “Loki, no.” Loki had said. (Again, you get the idea).

He just found you… utterly comforting. Safe. You accepted him for him. Not the masks, just him. And he finally felt like he belonged. And he would be damned if he ever lost that. Whether he ever revealed how he felt or not…

Spoiler: He does, by accident. Slip of the tongue. What a tragedy for a God known for his silver-tongue, but it seemed even he had his slip-ups, his moments of humanness.

Another spoiler: Of course, you loved him too.

#loki #loki x reader #loki headcanons #loki imagine #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson #marvel loki #marvel x reader #mcu headcanons #loki x you

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bwabys-scenarios · 7 days

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Kurapika can’t stand being away from you, his cute chubby girlfriend. You’re his everything, the only person that makes him feel complete and whole.

Before, Kurapika could hardly call himself clingy, but after meeting you he can’t deny the allegation. All he wants to do is cling to you as tight as possible, basking in your love and affection.

When he’s down, you comfort him, letting him lay his head on your chest or soft tummy while you play with his pretty blonde hair. His nightmares are frequent, and he often wakes you up in tears, begging to be held and to know that you won’t leave him all alone.

You’re so soft, a comfort that Kurapika has denied himself for so long. He wouldn’t let himself have those simple comforts, thinking he didn’t deserve it. But how could he deny you, his beloved? Warm, kind, and ever so soft. So curling up with you and getting to nestle against your plush frame after a hard day is more than enough to have him sighing in contentment.

One thing Kurapika enjoys is feeding you. Whether it be sweets, savory foods, or some kind of fruit/vegetable, he swoons when you make a happy face as he places something delicious to your lips. Plump women were desired in his clan, and making sure your significant other was well fed and happy was a way to show you cared.

So his pretty cherub eating from his hand, smiling and happy was all he wanted. Getting to lick up any of the mess was also… very satisfying.

Kurapika had once thought he’d spend his life alone, with no one there to love or accept him for who he truly was… but then he met you.

Already, he was attracted to your plump form and cute chubby cheeks, but you were endlessly kind and understanding, always sitting with him after he drank himself stupid and patting his back while he threw up.

Sometimes, the survivors guilt made simply existing a sin to him. Why did he get to keep living after his entire clan was wiped out? He wondered if everything would stop hurting if he just left this world and joined his kin in the afterlife…

But then he’d remember you and realize that if he stopped living, he would never feel your warmth again. He would never get to hold you tight to him, never get to hear you laugh and giggle when he said something that wasn’t supposed to be funny, but made you laugh anyways. He’d never get to teasing pinch your chubby cheek when you messed up and scold you, making those cute cheeks heat up until he felt the urge to coo and gently caress them.

And most importantly, if he died, he’d be leaving the woman he adored behind. That’s when he realized he had fallen for you, and that nothing could separate him from you, not even his own depression and pain.

So Kurapika decided to live for you until he could learn to live for himself, and living for you and everything so easy and sweet.

He spoiled you, taking you shopping often, getting you custom made clothing when the items in store didn’t come in your size or fit like they were supposed to. Any little thing you asked for was yours, and he quite enjoyed getting to see you all dolled up for him.

Especially when he got to take it all off and make love to you after a romantic date together.

Getting to fuck into your warm, fat pussy and hold onto your plump thighs as you writhed and moaned beneath him really made Kurapika glad he stuck around. Otherwise he wouldn’t be cumming inside his princess, filling her chubby tummy to the brim with his seed.

Suckling on your pretty breasts, covering your neck in his love bites and marking you as his makes him feel at ease. Although he feels a bit bad watching you put on a scarf to hide all the marks he left, part of him is proud. You’re his little cherub, and no one else can have you.

The only thing that could ever make him love you more would be the sight of your already plump tummy swelling with his child.

Kurapika wants to take care of you for the rest of his life and provide you a comfortable life. He adores you, you’re all he has left. And when you only have one thing left, you treat it with the utmost care, don’t you?

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delcakoo · 2 years

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sharing a bed with enha₊˚ପ⊹

requested

ღ PAIRING ! enhypen x gn!reader

ღ WC ! 2k

ღ GENRE ! fluff n’ crack

a/n: ty for the request ! i put a lot of thought into each member and what i think they’d be like hehe enjoy <3

// LEE HEESEUNG !

besides when he’s trying to be sneaky and play video games under the sheets, sharing a bed with heeseung is very peaceful

not that you can talk much about his late night gaming habit 🧌

he successfully kidnaps you into playing with him at least once a week despite your sad attempts to save your sleep schedule

you’ll both just be lying in bed with heeseungs switch connected to the tv absolutely screaming and firing insults at each other

listen, super smash bros was very serious and intense, romance didn’t matter anymore.

you and kirby were absolute menaces, even though you sadly lost to heeseung and link a couple of times

he just got lucky though 🙄

as for when it’s actually time to go to bed, you guys don’t exactly have a set sleeping position or routine

the most he’ll do is lazily fling an arm over your waist

but usually the two of you just try to find any position that’s most comfortable

if that means hugging each other to death, then so be it

or if it means facing away from each other with limbs all over the place, that’s cool too

if you hadn’t noticed, hee is just very very chill

you’re in for perfect nights 98% of the time with this boy, especially after late night game sessions since you’re both absolutely exhausted

10/10 bed sharing companion <3

// PARK JAY !

mister grump..

when you guys are in bed, he’ll just be like “night.” and then boom he’s out

yeah, jay is not much of a romantic when he’s tired </3

however he might give you a lil peck on the cheek or forehead if he feels like it!

sleeping is just very serious business for your boyfriend

i mean remember that one en’oclock episode where he somehow fell asleep in like five minutes even with all the other members giggling around him?

yeah, he can and will sleep anytime, anywhere with no struggle at all

so sharing a bed with him is amazingly easy :0

no snoring, no shuffling or moving around, nothing

he’s basically just a log next to you

buuut that doesn’t mean you don’t move around yourself

which jay finds extremely annoying, because why can’t you be perfect and fall asleep instantly like him? 🙄

“what are you doing?” he grumbles, eyes closed as he feels you flip onto your other side for the hundredth time

you scowl, “not all of us can fall asleep in ten seconds.”

suddenly, two strong arms yank you into a warm embrace, preventing you from fidgeting around any longer

“sleep.”

you huff in fake annoyance, but in reality it feels amazing to be pressed up against his warmth

any night you need to be held, he’s ready with open arms!

or if you want to hold him, go for it, he really doesn’t care as he can fall asleep no matter what

but enjoy dealing with grumpy, confused jay in the morning~

// SIM JAKE !

CUDDLERRR

bro needs to hold you !

you’re right there next to him?!? of course he needs to touch you !

you’ll literally get into bed, and like a hungry piranha he just grabs you

for the rest of the night you’re stuck there as his personal teddy bear

not that you mind at all

however if you do find yourself needing to change position he’ll reluctantly release you, as long as there’s some kind of physical contact remaining

even holding hands is enough <3

he’s too cute 🙁

each night you guys talk for a while, jake likes to tell you funny things the members did and what promotions were like

then he listens intently to you ranting about your day, nodding along enthusiastically the whole time and making comments along the way

“that’s so stupid! i should go to your work and tell them off.”

“he seriously said that to you? i’ll fight him!”

yeah, your boyfriend gets all the tea and gossip about your work

then when you’re both finally ready to sleep he lazily mumbles out a “g'night, luv you.”

*forehead kiss* (or at least he aims for your forehead, it’s pitch black after all)

everryyy single night <3

and now you can’t fall asleep until he says that and gives you your kiss :’)

// PARK SUNGHOON !

mf acts like you’re such a nuisance being next to him in bed even though he’s secretly relishing in your presence

“wah, you even want to sleep with me now? you’re so obsessed 🙄”

*a minute later*

“i’ve just granted you a once in a lifetime opportunity to sleep next to the park sunghoon and you’re not even going to hold me?”

yeah, you may think with those big arms of his he’d wanna be the big spoon but he really does find it comforting being in your embrace

sunghoon is so glad the darkness hides the cheesy grin he makes every time you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him right up against you

he’ll simply melt into you, sometimes throwing his much longer leg over both of yours and tangling them together even though he knows it’s a habit of his that you despise

“hoon, your feet are popsicles! get away from me!” you yell, making the boy let out a mischievous snicker as he shuffles even closer

“you love it~”

however on some nights when he wants to be all protective and “manly” as he calls it, he flips you around so your back is against his chest and traps you there for the night, leaving small kisses on the back of your head

“hoon, too tight. i can’t breathe.” you whine, desperately tugging on his muscular arms practically glued to your waist

your boyfriend scoffs, loosening his hold slightly, “wow, you’re so ungrateful. you know how many people wish they could be in your position right now? 😒”

if he’s feeling extra mushy or just seconds from falling into dreamland, he may offer a quick, barely audible “love you”

and when you say it back he gets all flustered, pushing his face deeper into the crook of your neck

you can’t help but giggle at his duality

have lots of fun teasing this man in the morning for being all soft with you~

// KIM SUNOO !

sunoo would be so happy to share a bed with you!

it’s a literal bonding activity to him even if it’s just the both of you lying there waiting for your body to lose consciousness

but before sleeping you guys will usually take the safe environment as an opportunity to vent to each other or let things out

sunoo usually tells you about any worries or insecurities he feels, or if he needs advice about the members

then you do the same with your school/work

despite him usually being the one laughing and trying to brighten the mood in more serious situations, sunoo is also a very good listener

for physical touch, sunoo prefers to be hugging you in some way, even just putting his arm over you is enough

or he’ll randomly throw a leg over yours to pull you closer

and being very the observant boy he is, he always notices if there happens to be more blankets on his side and will pull them all onto you :)

once you announce you’re ready to sleep, he’ll usually say “goodnight jagi, sleep well~”

and if you’re facing him, he’ll try to peck you on the lips despite the darkness

but if you’re turned away he settles for kissing your neck, making him laugh as you flinch away from the ticklish gesture

oh and, sunoo loves getting blackmail pictures of you asleep in the morning, drool falling down your chin, hair a mess

he thinks you look adorable and makes it his lock screen 😒

when you wake up he’s dead

but still, softest and caring boy as usual <3 won the jackpot with this boy fr

// YANG JUNGWON !

now this one

he would be a bit chaotic to be honest

all day he’s stuck being a mature, confident leader for the members despite being the second youngest

so when he gets the chance to just relax and be alone with you in bed he’s giggling like a kid on christmas eve

“y/n~”

you snap an eye open at the sound of your boyfriend’s very much awake voice, “it’s like midnight, what do you want? i was almost asleep.” you complain

he straight up bites your cheek, making you yelp and swat him away

laughing, he suddenly gets on top of you, crushing you under his weight, “i can’t sleep.”

he’s a bit of a child yes, but please baby him like he deserves <\3

after you’ve successfully been forced into staying up with the hyper cat, you end up watching anime on his phone, curled up as close to each other as possible

“i love korosensei, they won’t actually kill him right?” (assassination classroom is my favorite anime okay i had to mention it somewhere 🙄)

you scoff, “of course they will, at the end though.” jungwon pouts at your prediction, scooting even closer into your arms as you continue, “first they’re going to make sure we love him a lot before breaking our hearts.”

your boyfriend frowns, “they would never do that! obviously they’re going to convince the world he’s actually a harmless, loving octopus slash teacher and everyone will cheer for him and live happily ever after.”

you chuckle at his defensive tone, “sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”

after you’ve watched so many episodes to the point where both your eyes start to burn, jungwon turns on his lamp and declares you take ‘3am selfies’

you decide to not question him anymore

when he opens his camera app, you grunt in jealousy as somehow he still looks amazing despite the time displayed on his phone

meanwhile you’re next to him feeling like a sewer rat 😞

all in all, sharing a bed with won is amazing as long as you’re ready to stay up all night !

// NISHIMURA RIKI !

well

sharing a bed with niki will be.. an interesting time!!

after watching weird youtube videos and taking the worst pictures of each other possible all night, you’d have to be the one to declare when it was bedtime

he’ll agree, but that doesn’t exactly mean he’ll sleep right away too

this mf will definitely put his cold ass foot on your thigh out of nowhere, cackling when you scream and try to escape

after that traumatizing experience you’ll be like “okay, goodnight for real now.”

he’ll kiss your nose quickly, “okay okay, goodnight y/n~”

ah, silence, finally.

nope

suddenly the body next to you is moving slightly, and you realise it’s niki trying as hard as he can to hold in his laugh

you open your eyes, groaning, “yah! what could possibly be funny right now?”

he lets it out, laughing maniacally, “i’m sorry! i can just barely make out your face in the dark and it’s just—“ he gets cut off by his own cackle, hiding his face in the pillow

of course he’s laughing at your face 🧌

“seriously? why am i even dating you,” you mutter, flipping over to your other side so your back is to him, “is this better?”

“now i miss your cute face~” he giggles, suddenly hugging you tightly from behind

brat

anyway your boyfriend moves a lot in his sleep, which leads to him slowly nudging you every so often

eventually the pushing continues long enough for you to plop onto the ground

the worst part is neither you or niki even wake up from this

in the morning, pray that he doesn’t wake up first

because if he does and wakes up to find you on the floor, he will tease you for months and definitely take lots of pictures

if you’re lucky enough to wake up first, it ends with you yelling at him in confusion while he apologises through much much laughter

i don’t know what you wanted from this mf <3

if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ feedback are always appreciated and motivating for me !

taglist: @duolingofanaccount

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guyfieriii · 3 months

Text

We’re going out in style, babe (I)

God, it’s been a WHILE. I really lost all zeal for writing for a little while, until recently I watched the tv series ‘Mr. & Mrs. Smith’ (it’s so so good, you guys!! everyone go watch it) and it got the ol’ wheels turning. This was supposed to be a one and done thing but I got carried away and I lack the stamina to write a big whole thing so this’ll be a two-parter.

Anyway. This is my little version of it with Price. Angst and some stuff. The usual business. Haven’t written anything in months so please read this with the lowest possible expectations. Ya girl’s rusty.

Pairing : John Price x F!reader

Trigger warning : Explicit Sexual Scenes

It’s almost romantic.

The sight of husband and wife lay bare, broken and bloody. Look closely enough to see past the gore, past the ugliness set in a halo of ichor to see a sense of deliverance. The gift of release knowing they’ve met their end, and they’ve met it together.

Well, almost.

You choke out a wretched cough seeped in blood. One you’d feel rip into you, bullet holes and all, if you just weren’t so tired. You can taste it, though — coppery and astringent.

Punctuating.

This is it, you think, feeling the curve of your spine slacken at the relief of what’s coming.

I’m sorry, John.

The words spume against your lips, the only sound making it past them is a wet gurgle.

You’re grateful, for once, for the tears mar your eyesight. They keep you from seeing the true extent of his pain. You can feel it though, his agitation, his helplessness simply in the feather-light brush of his fingertips against your own. It can’t be easy, watching his wife slowly bleed to death beside him while he does the same. Seeing the way your lips turn ashen under a cochineal film of blood, watching the space between each breath lengthen gradually until all that’s left is the in between.

It’s slow. Painful. Each passing second permeated in struggle.

But better him than you.

Let me be first to go, you think in your typical manner of self-service.

It’ll all have been worth it, if only you’re the first to go.

“Oh,” It’s the first thing you can think to say,

“You’re English.”

It’s not the first thing you notice about him, though. No the thing that catches your attention at once is his eyes. Clear, calm and oh so blue. The sheer depth of them, though. Stare into them much longer, and you might not be able to find your way back out.

“Disappointed?” The question is dipped in jovial cadence. Thank God. He’s not offended.

“No. Not disappointed. I was only expecting—.” You pause, uncertain on what expectations you had starting out. Whatever they were, you can’t really remember now.

“What were you expecting, love?” He asks, simply and you know without a shadow of a doubt that it’s sincere. It echoes in the resting timbre of his voice, in the sharpness of his gaze which is dulled only slightly by something you might confuse for affection if you didn’t know any better.

You can only stare in response. Wait for the punchline that never comes.

Jesus Christ. He really does wants to know.

It’s unfamiliar territory for you to be in. To hold someone’s concern in your grasp the way you do his. However, as hard as it is for you to accept, it seems just as easy for him to simply give it away.

The weight of it makes your heart beat faster. Harder. Suddenly your mouth is too dry and you fight the urge to blink and break the spell. If he notices your discomfort, he says nothing about it.

An odd thing, really. That the two of you were matched.

“I’d like for our first day of marriage to not be a complete disappointment.” He prompts, still expecting your answer.

“Listen, uh—”

“John.” He supplies with a tone that makes you think you’re missing out on a joke.

Yeah, it’s a fake name. Haha. I get it.

“Jane.” You reciprocate, awkwardly.

“I’m Jane. And you’re perfect — er, John.” You declare with a sharp inhale only to be met with the scent of him. A bonfire is the first thing that your mind puts up front and centre. A bonfire doused out by a the lightest drizzle, so the smell of smoke still lingers. Along with it, the wafting aroma of cinnamon. Chocolate. All things warm and inviting.

You decide, in that moment, that you really really like the way he smells.

“Starting off with perfection, am I? At least give me till our silver year to really nail it.” He states, yet again, with such utter sincerity you almost miss the joke entirely.

“Till our—? Oh. Right.” You glance away, sheepish.

“This is yours; I believe.” Through your peripherals, you see a ring dangling at the top knuckle of his little finger. A delicate gold band. Simple and suited to your style. You glance at the finger right beside and see that he’s already worn his.

Right. Fuck.

“Uh, yeah. Thank you.” You reach out to take it, but he curls his finger back into his palm.

“Oh no, darling. Let me.” With the utmost care he grabs hold of your wrist, his thumb closing around your pulse — which much to your dismay is racing. It looks so slight, enclosed in his grip — which is paradoxically unyielding and yet so unbearably soft. A cushioned cage you might not mind being held captive in. You can’t bear to meet his eyes, so you keep your gaze downcast, intently focused on the way he slips the ring on your finger.

It’s not supposed to mean anything. Just work. Practicality more than something romantic. You’re spies and being married only makes it less likely that one of you will defect.

But for some reason it doesn’t feel that way. A moment shrouded in solemn intimacy. A promise. It feels that you’re bound to him, a stranger , just with the simple decent of a golden band down your finger. A covenant not meant to be entered into lightly — it’s an undeclared forfeiture of your life into the hands of another. So no, it’s not exactly romantic.

It’s something so much more.

“It’s official, eh? Mr. And Mrs. Smith.” Your hand still rests against the back of his and he makes no movement to release it.

You don’t much seem to mind.

You sleep in different beds, of course.

A habit formed with some difficulty, you’ll admit. There are times when you’ve parted ways in the hall like two men on the opposite ends of a duel — fingers curled around the trigger, waiting on the impulse to pull it. You’ve never given in but you’ve come close.

That fading post mission adrenaline leaves you pliable to your baser instincts, and you find yourself imagining all the ways he could make it better.

All the ways you could.

One night, in a hotel room in Verona, you found yourself skirting the precipice of giving in, with nothing but a 6 inch wall between the two of you.

You pictured it. Some other version of you, ready to take the plunge. This other you having the privilege of indifference in a make-believe realm wherein consequences don’t matter, and you tried to swallow the envy that rose up your throat like bile.

Tried and failed.

Your hands seem to move on their own accord as they slip between your thighs, your mind fabricating the illusion of his own taking their place.

A practiced dance of your imagination and dexterity that takes place often. More than you’d ever admit, even to yourself. You’d brand yourself in shame the morning after, and yet at night, all alone, you come at the thought of all the ways he’d take you.

He’s big. You know it.

You’ve caught glimpses of the outline of his cock in the bugle of his briefs like a voyeuristic pervert. He seemed big enough when flaccid, and you quivered.

You imagine the girth of him, hard and throbbing, promising all the ways he’d make it fit.

You use three fingers, push them deeper still and try to mimic the ways he’d fill you. You’re certain you fall short. He’d stretch you till your cunt had no give left, and then he’d stay there. Let you mold yourself to him, so he’d never feel the need to go elsewhere.

Knowing he’s within an earshot, you’re louder than you normally are. Much to the dismay of the men you’ve slept in the past, you were never vocal in bed. You’d reach orgasm, nearly mute and theatrics for the sake of male ego was something you couldn’t spare the patience for.

Tepid — that’s what they called you, disappointment oozing from each syllable.

You just couldn’t bare to disappoint John.

You put on what can only be considered a barefaced performance for the pure interest of his attention, expressing desires aloud you wouldn’t even dare admit in the privacy of your own self-contemplation. It spurs you on to climax, a fortissimo of vulgarity spewing from your lips.

In the aftermath you lay there breathless, caught unawares by just how far you took this little experiment of yours. Granted, it was all for John’s benefit but somewhere in the middle of it the pretence washed off you to reveal a gleam of authenticity.

Reeling from it, you’re unable to sleep a wink.

“Sleep well, then?” He asks you, the morning after.

“Uh huh. Some of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in my life, John.”

He looks at you like he’s about to call you out on it. Never does.

You resume your compartmentalized way of living soon after. Other than a shared fake name, your home, and the covert particulars of your questionable line of work, you two don’t share much.

Until a mission calls for it, you’ve managed to keep to yourselves a fair amount. You usually cross paths at mealtimes, which you never complain about since he wordlessly took it upon himself to do all the cooking, only letting you help clean.

Quaint domesticity at its finest.

“Safe to assume you chose high risk work as well.” He’d said over breakfast on your first morning there. “Why?”

You’d entered the kitchen to already find him there frying some eggs over the stove. You notice the little dining table to the side already set for two, a glass of orange juice poured for the both of you and toast points standing in their rack in the center of the table.

He gestured for you to take a seat before serving you a duo of over easy eggs and cup of coffee before taking his seat across.

Well, then.

Maybe there were some perks to this life of married domesticity after all.

“I thought I could use a challenge.” You offered him a half answer, as close to the truth as you could.

“And what was it that you did before this?” He asked

“Should you really be asking me that?” You countered.

“I think so, given that you’re my wife.”

My wife.

Enjoying the bit a little too much, aren’t ya John?

So were you, if you were being honest. But honestly never was your strongest suit.

“And why did you—?” You questioned him back in an effort to evade, “Pick high risk, I mean.”

“I’m ex-military, love. Figured I’d choose what I’m used to.” He answered you almost immediately, with not a hint of discomfort or thought of reserve. Either he was a fabulous liar—

Or he trusted you already.

And you didn’t know what to do with that.

“I like my eggs scrambled, by the way.

“Glad to know you feel comfortable your preferences for eggs with me, Jane.”

“Small steps, John.”

Six months in, and aside from a few close calls, you and John seemed to make a good team.

You’ve found that while he’s quick to improvise. Almost always, there’s a wrench thrown in the works, and while you might grapple over a changed course of action, he’s already adjusted to the new circumstances.

You’ve also found that he hates being separated from you in the field. You used to think it to be a manifestation of suspicion, to constantly have an eye on you.

Not that you’d blame him if it was. You weren’t exactly a fountain of knowledge when it came to sharing things of a personal nature. It would only be natural for a little mistrust to brew between a set of spies.

Married, or not.

You were disabused of that theory all too soon.

“Status update?”

“Made it through. I lost them.” You wheeze out, just barely.

“You good? You okay?” The fear in his voice is palpable through your earpiece as you stumble through to an alleyway and try to catch your breath. With the adrenaline waning off you finally feel the bullet that grazed your shoulder.

Flesh wound. You’ll live.

“Jane, fucking answer me.” He rasps, urgent and desperate. Like his sanity depends on your well-being.

It pisses you off, sometimes. Just how deeply he cares. Would you dare call him out on it, though? Now that you’ve been fed on it for months till your belly was ready to burst, like a stray turned house cat. Would you survive without it?

“I’m fucking winded, John. Just need to catch my breath. I’ll be better if we could get the fuck out of here and go—”

Home.

“—back.” You say, instead. “Let’s rendezvous at—”

“I’m coming to get you. Just stay put, yeah?”

“Jesus C—” You hiss through clenched teeth, pressing down the base of your palm into your shoulder to help slow the bleeding down. The pain of it shoots down your arm like veins of lightning, only adding to your irritation. “I’m not a child, for fuck’s—”

“Jane.” The tone of his voice shuts you up. There’s not an ounce of anger or annoyance in it. Only supplication.

Well, shit.

You knew from the very first day you met him — John was a man rooted in conviction. Hard to sway, even harder to deny.

“Fine. I’m waiting.”

He finds you hunched against the wall not 10 minutes later and you can see him visibly sag in relief. The moment he turned the corner and his eyes fell upon your own, his contracted brow-line receded, the rigidity in his stance eased, and the look on his face—

If the deities could speak to a man’s worship, you thought, this is what they would talk about.

“How bad is it?” He offers you a hand to help you stand, the other immediately seeking to find the wound hidden under the crimson blotted front of your shirt, tugging slightly at the neck of it to get a better look.

“I’m sure you’ve seen worse.” You suddenly feel all too shy at the thought of a little exposed skin in front of the man who is your husband. When his thumb grazes the underside of the wound, an unsuppressed flinch jostles you in his hold and his grip tightens.

“You’ll need stitches.” He murmurs, his movements now zephyr-like, fingers mindlessly wandering across the span of your collar bone. You can’t help but imagine the way he’d help you undress, fingers caught at the bottom seam of your shirt being gently lifted. His thumb hooking underneath — maybe just to unassumingly graze against the skin of your abdomen. Maybe to see what the rest of you would feel like against the warmth of his touch.

You’ve caught him staring — whenever you’re dressed bare in nothing but a tank top and loose pair of shorts, the lace hem of which dances so gently across the smooth expanse of your thigh. You’ve witnessed him stop in his tracks, his gaze trained downward for a moment too long to not be considered improper and just then you find it. The effervescent unsheathing of his jealousy, towards a garment of all things. It doesn’t stay long; you could blink and miss it.

But you don’t miss much.

So, when he helps you undress, later that night, and tends to your wound—

Would he stop there, you wonder?

Would you maybe want to find out?

The first time he does fully undress you, is on the eve of your first-year anniversary.

You’re greeted with a gift — a bottle of Laphroaig, 40 and garment bags with a little something for the both of you. Enclosed within an envelope is the note:

Congratulations on a successful first year of marriage.

“Be a shame for rest of it to go to waste.” You say, when John immediately reaches for the bottle. His thumb swipes across the label in an appreciative caress while he tips the cap in your direction as a way of asking drink this with me?

“Keen to dress up for me, love?” He unzips your bag to reveal a hint of luminescent satin — deepened cerulean, to match his eyes.

“I—”

“Because I am.”

You see it unfold before you — the extent of his imagination. Unfurling like an iris in bloom. His eye-line coasting across the length of your silhouette, pausing at slight intervals — the slope of your neck, the curve of your breasts, the pliable swathe of your abdomen. His fists clench in a trice and you feel the pulse of it hammering in your core.

A building reservoir of desire you’ve held back behind a dam of logic that strains beneath the weight furthermore.

He makes you feel at a loss — seemingly unpulsed by this conspicuous display of obscene want. Hunger for what is continuously denied.

Either he takes it on the chin like too good of a sport, or he simply hides it better than you do.

Either way—

You might as well try to even out the playing field.

With a rapid maneuver fuelled only by provocation and guile, you crook a finger along the collar of his button down, the palm of your other hand placed securely over his chest.

“I will, if you will.”

This was it — the fracture in the levee holding back a year’s worth of self-deception. With the curtain drawn on every enciphered impulse, you could finally meet him on equal, honest footing. The kindling that lay bare now set alight and you can only hope you aren’t scorched by it.

And if you are—

You pray it consumes you quick.

The rest of the evening just kind of blends together — three finger pours, a little music, some dancing, if you could even call it that.

John’s generosity with the scotch turned you sloppy, with all your past attempts at decorum now semi-liquid — like a condensed pour of honey out the jar.

“Dance with me, Jane.”

“Just want to get your hands on m’, don’t ya? Clingy fucker.”

Pot, meet kettle, you think to yourself.

Drunk or not, at least you’re self-aware.

It’s in the middle of the night when you jostle awake, with a dry mouth and a hammering in your skull that you feel in your teeth. Somehow, you made it to bed. Still dressed.

You smooth a palm across the creased satin encasing your body, bunching the fabric into your fists absentmindedly.

“Couldn’t bare to take you out of it just yet.”

You’re caught off guard to find John lounging in the chair in the corner of your room, your dulled senses inhibiting the reflex to reach for your gun.

“Never sneak up on a spy, John. Could’a shot you dead if I wasn’t this fucking hungover.”

“Thank God for small mercies. You’d make an awful widow.” His tone bleeds irony but there’s an undertone to it. It’s one you don’t recognize.

He’s since rid himself of his jacket and cufflinks, with the first few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up and his arms crossed over his chest that rises and falls with every deliberate breath he takes. The picture of nonchalant inertia to the unknowing eye.

Not you, though.

You see the simmering thirst in a man who has been parched for too long, the certainty set in his eyes in search of an oasis—

And something else. An offshoot growing from the root of brackish resentment you can’t quite place.

And maybe, just maybe you worry you’re about to have your heart broken.

Not that you’d ever tell him.

“Fuck you.” You mutter, indignantly, massaging the bridge of your nose in an effort to ease the ache.

With lithe and measured movements, John approaches you. Through your peripherals you watch his feet get closer and closer with every step, until he’s inches away. With a firm-handed pull at your chin, he forces your gaze towards him— that indescribable tincture yet staining his features.

His head tilts imperceptibly, eyes narrowing in determination while he decides….what?

Whether to fuck you? Whether to leave you be and maintain the suffocating, acetic undercurrent you’ve maintained for an entire year in keeping your hands to yourself?

Whether to—

You stop your deliberations straight in their tracks as his hold on you tightens ever so slightly, his thumb disengaging from the rest to glide across your bottom lip.

Pulsing headache aside, you feel your entire being throb in anticipation.

“John—”

“Hush,” He takes advantage of your parted lips, probing the seam of them a little deeper. “Let a man savour a moment, for fuck’s sake.”

Seconds dissolve into minutes, as you wait with bated breath. Each lungful heavier than the last under the stifling pressure of a singular moment being pulled taut beyond belief.

“Jane, darling?” His voice is a mere whisper.

“Hmm?”

“How badly do you want to be fucked right now?”

A sizzle of defiance erupts deep in your belly. The urge to impugn stings the tip of your tongue when you see it. That look. That look that pummels down any defence you could even hope to construct. It demands sincerity, even when you can barely muster it on a good day let alone hungover and painfully aroused.

So, in the place of a rejoinder that would leave you both sexually frustrated and teetering the edge of combustion, you say the truth.

“So fucking badly, John. For months. Possibly from the moment we met.”

What hits you in that moment is disconcerting mixture of emotions: part relief at the unburdening of long-held truths, part self-consciousness at the ease in which just you’ve confessed them.

The latter dissolves almost immediately when you watch the resulting smile that etches itself across his face. A smile that screams pride. Absolution. The kind you’d find on a man who finally reached the peak of his dreams.

You were his Everest. Finally conquered.

“That’s my girl.”

His words leave you breathless. It’s not the first time he’s called you his, so it isn’t the novelty of the statement that floors you. It’s the fact that for the first time in a year, you recognize it to be true.

You’re his — been his for some time now.

The epiphany goes to your head like strong drink — and right on the heels of your previous state of inebriety, it’s all too much to take.

“Fuck, John. Just—” Whatever you might’ve said next is devoured by him in an abrubt dive to kiss you. It’s fervent and messy, all tongue and teeth leaving the viscid traces of saliva across your lips, jaw, and neck.

It’s an unremitting onslaught of his lips and hands — him touching you, tasting you at a pace you couldn’t dream of outrunning. Sometime in the midst of it, he’s managed to strip you both down without missing a beat. I’ll take care of it, my darling, he’d said when you protested to the number of layers that still lay between the two of you.

That was the thing about John. He’d not let a single demand of yours go unsatisfied. A depraved part of you wondered how far you could draw it out, test his endurance. Find the limit and shame him for it.

Needless to say, you never did.

Not out of decency, a trait of which you were always found deficient. It was only out of the fear of having had something unattainable only to eventually lose it. Fact of the matter is, there would be no limit to what you could ask of him.

Onto to simpler requests, then.

“Fuckin’ need you inside of me.”

His cock fills you up just as you’d expected— stretched to capacity, the head of his cock grazing against your cervix with a couple of inches to spare. You hiss through your teeth, your nails digging into his back to recompense for the building pressure.

“Shit, John. Fu—uck—” You pant, lungs convulsing beneath the strain of his weight pressing down on you, skin meeting skin at every possible junction.

“Should’a let me work you out first, then.” He grunts, lips latching on to the shell of your ear.

He forced an arm between the two of you, his fingers find your clit, drawing gentle circles. A direct juxtaposition to the shallow quick paced thrusts, while his other arm snakes around to border the crown of your skull. A preemptive measure for a good and thorough fucking.

Eventually the burn at the rim of your cunt subsides and you take more of him than you could’ve ever imagined. Right to the hilt. He draws back out, just halfway and looks, as if to admire his handiwork before slamming back in with a reverberant so fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ good or some variation of the praise over and over.

A year’s worth of raked up want comes cresting over this one night— he fucks you once more with the privilege of leisure the second time around. When you’re fucked out, slack-jawed with a raw cunt dripping cum, he croons with self-satisfaction and promises you’ll take him again.

You do, naturally. Drunk on the smell of sex which weighs down the air in the room, obedience comes easy.

He’s gentler this time, softer in the way he touches you. Fingers raking over flushed, sweaty skin. His tongue gliding over every inch of you, twice over, like he means to really savour it. Catalogue what every part of you tastes like should this be the only chance he gets. He fucks you slow and deep, a litany of indebtedness perpetuating every movement.

There are things about him you commit to memory, as well. The lingering taste of his last cigar that glides across your tongue when he kisses you. The flickering pulse in his brow when he’s close. The weight of his cock sheathed within you, the sting that comes with it.

When the haze of prolonged unfed lust unfurls with a yawn of satiety, you find all that remains is a sense of premonition.

Of a tragic and bitter end.

#john price x reader #John price #john price smut #john price fic #TECHNICALLY I could end it with this but how rude would that be??

242 notes · View notes

uplatterme · 1 year

Text

Just a sample or two, I’m sure you’ll manage.

—sub!dottore/dom!reader, zandik!dottore, transmasc!reader (this is mostly dottore!receiving so no mention of the reader’s genitalia, but it’s still implied reader is transmasc), masochistic!dottore/sadistic!reader | imagined knifeplay (cuts), overstimulation, crying, degradation, slight dumbification, slight blood play, pain kink, unnegotiated kinks but everything is consensual (idk about safe or sane though because it’s dottore)

—i don’t know how to feel about this fic tbh. but it’s here. it’s okay. (edit: i reread it and its quite good)

Zandik knocks over the cup of coffee on his desk when he hears his door getting banged on. He swears that whoever is outside that door is going to get it, he’ll tear them apart into shreds and feed their body to the tigers…

With an annoyed face, Zandik opens up the door, ready to “politely” tell them to get the hell out of his face. The words are already on the tip of his tongue but he rests easy when he recognizes that it's only you, his next-door neighbor.

He quickly tries to remember if his room is a mess. Fuck, he did do laundry a while back, yeah? Does his room smell good? Is his bed fixed?

He panics, why are you even here?

He thinks all of that within three seconds.

“Zandik! I hope I'm not bothering you?” You stand outside his door, bearing that smile he somehow can’t say no to.

“You’re fine, come in.” He says as cool as he can, you’re the only person in your darshan that he can get along with. Hell, you’re the only person in the Akademiya he can tolerate.

“So, uhm.” You start, you’re carrying your bag so he assumes you just came from a class.

“Yes?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

He doesn’t miss the way you seem to be dancing around the topic. It’s not as if he cares what that favor is, if you ask him to kill a person for you then he’d do it, no questions asked.

“Spit it out then.”

You sigh, sitting down on his bed.

“You know I'm a scholar of Amurta.”

“Of course, you never fail to not bring it up every time I ask you about the subject of human anatomy.” He states, as if that wasn’t obvious already.

“I may need a…sample of sorts.”

Oh, that’s an easy fix. Were you too shy to ask for his blood? That’s strangely endearing.

“How much?” Zandik asks.

“Well, a cup? Maybe two so I don't mess up.” You quickly answer, you appear to be surprised at his immediate response.

“For blood? That seems quite a lot.” Zandik questions, it’s not that he won’t give you it, he’s just a bit confused.

“Not that…”

“What is it then?”

He hears you whisper something and Zandik swears that his ears are fucking with him.

“…Say that again?”

“Seminal Fluid?”

He's stunned for a bit. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it back once he discerns that that’s not the proper response to this situation.

“C-Can’t you do it yourself?” He asks, looking away from you.

Despite his wanting to be with you romantically, you two have never engaged in any of the sort. The most you’ve done is the slight brushing of your hands when working on an experiment.

“Zandik, you know I can't.”

He almost asks again why that is when he realizes.

“Oh.”

He blushes furiously and to your perspective, this might look strange. But when he hears you tearing up someone’s guts next door past bedtime hours, it’s hard not to imagine himself being the one who’s in your partner’s position.

In other words, he’s dreamed too much of being dicked down by you that he forgot about your case to begin with, not that it really matters to him.

And he would never admit to this, but sometimes the noises get a bit too loud for comfort that he has to take care of himself alone while he visualizes you doing that to him.

He hears you cough, standing up and trying to walk away from this whole thing as if nothing ever happened.

“You know what, I'll leave. I’ll find someone else.”

It is an embarrassing situation, this was not a scene that he had expected and prepared for.

“W-Wait,” He calls out, his hand grasping your wrist.

“Zandik, you don’t have to. I’ll just pay someone else to do it.” You explained to him that it really isn’t that big of a deal. “I think I came here because you’re my go-to person.” You chuckle.

Zandik really wants to cuss you out, you can’t just say that to him out of nowhere and then decide to leave right after.

He stammers out a response, “I-I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

It’s just silence for a few seconds until you decide to leave him be to do his business, telling him that you’ll just be next door and to take as much time as he needs.

And when the door slams in front of his face, is when he realizes the severity of his decision.

You’re telling him he’s supposed to jack off while knowing that you’re aware he’s doing exactly that?

Zandik unbuckles his belt, deciding that he might as well get this over with as soon as possible.

Then thirty minutes pass by.

Zandik has not filled a cup, nor is he even halfway to a climax. He tries to think of everything. Well, everything but you, imagining things that would turn him on that aren't you or fantasies that involve you.

He somehow finds this task to be difficult.

His cock is sitting on his leg half-hard, he’s racking his brain to find something that will make this easier and he soon realizes that every single time he’s masturbated somehow involved you in some kind of way.

He doesn’t want to believe that at all, surely not.

Is he really that into you?

He reminisces of each time you’ve been with him, the times when you lay an arm on his shoulder, pulling him closer to you without notice. The times when you whisper directly into his ear in the library that sends the poor man into a shock with how he feels your breathing on his neck, wanting you to lay those lips on his skin, to just mark him without care while trying not to get caught by the other students passing by your table.

Zandik whimpers just at the thought of it. He snaps out of his thoughts once he notices that he’s fully hard now, with precum even oozing out his dick.

He plays with the white liquid, he relishes the fact that you’re able to affect him like this when you’re not even here, to begin with. He grits his teeth, warming the tip with his palm, the stickiness making Zandik slightly quiver from how messy it is.

His control over his own thoughts and body is slowly starting to slip, his hips moving on their own as his cock longs for the warmth of his hand. He stifles back a moan, thinking about you has his mind going dumb.

He wonders if you know about these feelings of his, the way he has to excuse himself each instance your touches linger on for too long, his entire body stiffening as a pathetic noise tries to escape his throat.

“Haah…”

He wants to stay quiet, knowing that the walls are quite thin and that if he can hear you from back then, so is the opposite.

He breathes impatiently. This isn’t enough at all, he needs more.

Zandik wants to know how it would feel to have you explore his entire body, to have you see every vein and how his blood flows throughout his skin. He knows you’d grow fascinated by him, like you would with any cadaver.

His head tilts back at the thought of you slicing him open, drawing cuts with a scalpel on his thighs as he bleeds, the wounds aching as your tongue licks them oh so slowly. His cock twitches, the stroking of his length getting more and more desperate.

He grows weak as he envisions you squeezing them as you penetrate him, spreading him apart without any preparation whatsoever. He sobs at that, he needs you to put him into his place, to shame him for thinking such disgusting things. To treat him as nothing more than trash, that he’s a whore for enjoying these kinds of acts.

His left hand grips the sheets for stability, the other continuing to pump himself until he spills. His vision blurs from both the pleasure and the tears, almost forgetting about the reason why he’s doing this to begin with, too high of his lust for you.

He stumbles over, aiming for the cups you’ve given him.

Zandik moans loudly as he finishes, not all of his fluid gets into the containers. In fact, most of it splattered all over his bed and his legs. He waits until he stops cumming, panting heavily as sweat drips off his forehead.

It��s worrying how much of a pull you have toward him.

He sits there for a few minutes, resting easy until he hears knocking on the door.

“Y-Yeah?” He calls out from his bed, too tired to stand up.

“Are you done?”

Zandik immediately rushes to the door, taking his blanket with him to cover his lower half.

He opens the door with a slight shake of his hand, openly oblivious to how he looks right now to you.

His hair is a mess, his face…

He looks as if he’s in a daze, and he is, for the most part. There are traces of tears from his wet eyelashes, eyes staring at you as if he’s begging for you to take a bite out of him, to fuck him right then and there.

He looks so pitiful and vulnerable, an appearance that you’ve never seen of him, an appearance that he’d never show others, an appearance that he’d only show to you.

His legs are bare, the blanket doing nothing to hide the shape of his hips. There’s cum dripping down his legs and you knew you should have knocked later. But once you heard your friend sound like that, your urges got the best of you.

You’re sure glad you didn’t stop yourself.

“R-Right…You need it warm, yes?” Zandik says, embarrassed at what he’s just done and thought of while he got himself off.

“Yeah…” You answer, mind focused on his figure instead of what you initially came here for.

He hands you the containers you’ve given him, the liquid splashing.

“Thank you, Zandik.”

“Of course, anytime…” He replies.

You could just leave, pretend as if you didn’t hear him earlier or those other times he’s fucked himself alone while moaning out your name, distracting you even if you were in bed with another.

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Hm?”

You know he’s into you, and the gods know you’d be lying if you claimed you weren’t turned on by Zandik right now.

The next few moments are a blur and Zandik is unsure how he’s ended up at a loss for words, his legs being spread apart by your hands as he’s forced to bear the shame of you seeing him already so stiffened despite just cumming a few minutes ago.

“So soaked…”

“S-Sorry…” He apologizes, trying to look away.

Zandik blushes at the fact he hasn’t trimmed there in a while.

“Cute.”

His heart beats loudly in his chest, unsure of how to process this whole thing.

He’s not complaining at all, no. He’s just surprised at how you’re being so forward with him like this, not sure whether to take this as a one-time thing or if there’s something more to your actions.

“What would you like me to do?” You question.

That’s a loaded question. What doesn’t he want you to do?

Everything, he wants to say. He wants to be greedy. He’s been waiting for something like this to happen for so long, it’d be a waste to just be shy and act like this.

Still, thinking that is easier than actually doing it.

“T-Touch me, please.”

“How? Won’t you show me how you do it, Zandik?”

He nods shyly, bringing his hand to his cock. He’s much more sensitive now than before since he’s just had his orgasm. He ponders on what lay behind those eyes of yours, staring him down intensely as he tries to focus on himself.

It doesn’t take much for him to be hard, especially with how your hands feel on his thighs. It’s shameful to see himself leaking so much already, a lot quicker than when he did this alone earlier.

His hips convulse while he strokes himself, “Aren’t you eager?” You ask him, but that just makes him whine impatiently.

This is a lot tamer than he had imagined but that doesn’t erase the satisfaction that he’s getting right now.

“I might cum…” He simply says, still keeping at the same pace.

“Are you asking for permission?”

Zandik whimpers out softly, nodding his head at your question.

“Do you think you deserve it?”

Does he? He thinks he does, but what if you don’t think the same way? A loud gasp escapes him, he can’t hold it for much longer. Tears start to form again from his ducts, a sobbing mess who just wants to please you as much as he can.

Chants of your name and pleading continue, yet it won’t seem like you’re taking that as an answer.

A sudden pain shocks his entire body when he feels your nails digging down his thighs. Each second is a nightmare, your nails going deeper and deeper as blood drips down to his sides, staining the sheets of his bed.

God, that feels so fucking good.

“H-Hurts…” He says.

“Yeah? Maybe, If you answer my question, I’ll let you go.” You continue pressing on the newmade wounds, raising a moan out of him.

“I-I don't know…”

“Ah, but Zandik. Aren’t you the smart one?”

He sobs, he’s supposed to agree with you but doesn’t find it in his mind to do so right now. “Please—can’t hold it.”

You continue to stare at him in silence, even as Zandik loses control, apologizing repeatedly for finishing with your say.

His thighs twitch every few seconds, his eyelids getting heavier when he tries to focus on the fact that you’re still on top of him.

“My, I’m still here you know?”

You make that perfectly clear when you shove your fingers into his gaping mouth, the taste of his own cum and blood makes him gag, yet you continue to push your fingers down his throat. He slobbers all over them, yet he takes it with no resistance. He wants you to go even deeper, to ruin his throat.

Eventually, you pull away. The sound that comes out of him is hoarse, yet he still stares at you with loving eyes.

“Want you.” Zandik begs,

“Prove it, darling.”

#plattered writings #dottore x reader #genshin impact x reader #il dottore x reader #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #dom reader #sub dottore #dom!reader #sub!dottore

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lolahauri · 3 months

Text

: ̗̀➛ Ben Drowned | Smut Alphabet

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

If he doesn’t fall asleep right away, he’ll clean you up either by using a towel or licking the cum off of you. Afterwards he’ll get you snacks to share while you cuddle and play games.

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

His favorite part of himself is his mouth. He loves being able to lick, suck, and bite on every sensitive area of your body, and he especially loves seeing the way it effects you. His favorite part of you would be your ass. No matter the size or shape, he loves slapping, squeezing, and grinding on it.

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

He’ll cum anywhere you want him to, no complaints. But i think his favorites would be: on your face, inside you, and on your ass. In that order. Honestly no matter how worn out he is from sex, seeing his cum painted all over your pretty face gets him hard again immediately. He’d also love seeing his cum dripping out of you, he gets off on the idea that he’s marking your insides as his.

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

If you don’t keep your phone and laptop cams covered, he’ll watch you through them and jack off to just the sight of your face. Like you could literally be filing taxes on ur laptop and this man will still jerk off to you.

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

Probably an average amount of pyschical experience. He mostly learns what to do through porn and watching people through their cams (lol). To be fair, it’s not very easy to get laid when you’re a homicidal spirit.

(he does have a lot of sexting and phone sex experience tho)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

In order: doggy, cowgirl, missionary. Doggy is self explanatory, he loves your ass. With cowgirl, he loves making you work for your orgasm while he get to lay back and watch. It gives him an amazing view, either watching your tits bounce, or getting to jerk you off and give you twice the pleasure. In missionary, he likes that he has access to your whole body. He can tongue kiss you, play with one of your nipples, and rub your clit/jerk you off all while fucking you at the same time.

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

I honestly think he’s more on the serious side. And i don’t mean that as being stoic or anything. I just think he gets hyper focused on the experience, making sure you both feel good. There’s not a lot of room for jokes when he’s pounding you into the mattress.

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

Golden blonde like his hair. He keeps it trimmed neatly, but never fully shaved.

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

You’d probably have to ask him for extra intimacy. Even though he loves you, he’s never really made-love to anyone. It was always just fucking. But he would totally enjoy being more sensual and soft if it’s something you talk to him about.

Though, let’s assume you are in a genuine relationship, but haven’t talked to him about taking things slower. I think he’d naturally do things like holding your hand, praise you, and kiss you all over to show his affection. Even if the sex itself is rough or fast, you still bring out that soft side in him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Very Often. Especially if you have a low sex drive (or just lower than his), he’d make up for it by jerking off daily and pretending it’s your hand. Or using a fleshlight and pretending it’s your ass/pussy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Facials, voyer, public sex, edging, overstimulation, threesome, anal, creampies, cum eating, roleplay, cosplay (he’d def ask you to dress as his fav anime characters at least once).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Living room couch, the possibility of getting caught is exciting. That also goes for other public places. Like dressing rooms, bathrooms, in your car, against the walls in the mansion hallway, etc…

The shower and his bed are your usual spots tho.

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

Everything about you. The way you walk, the way you talk, your laugh, he’s seriously obsessed with you and your beauty.

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

Sounding, ageplay, scat, vomit, etc… All of the usual turn offs lmao. Generally anything thats more pain than pleasure also.

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

Prefers receiving, but he’ll happily go down on you too. He’s pretty skilled, and gets better everytime. He mentally takes notes of what things get the most noise out of you and repeats it or uses it later to make you cum faster.

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

Usually on the rough and fast side, if you ask him though, he’ll take his time with you more often and let his intimate side show in bed.

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

Loves them. He’d be down to have a quickie anywhere, anytime.

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

Yes. He’ll try almost anything once, just tell him your fantasies and he’ll try his best to make it reality.

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

He doesn’t last a super long time. But he can go for multiple rounds to make up for it. And if you want him to, he’ll keep going until you’re both shaking and crying (of pleasure) from the overstimulation.

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

He absolutely owns at least one pocket pussy. Probably some vibrators and plugs too. He’d happily use anything you wanted on either of you.

One of his fantasies would be fucking you from behind and using a vibrator on your clit/tip.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The biggest tease in the world. If he really wants to be a dick about it, he’ll spend the whole day randomly doing things he knows will turn you on, just to play dumb and then leave you feeling needy and frusterated. Making you wait until that night to give you some relief. Not that he’ll make it easy, you’ll most likely be edged to the point of tears and begging before he lets you cum.

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

Very vocal! Loud moans and whimpers, heavy breathing, grunting, you name it. Especially when he gets into dirty talk. If he’s getting close, nearly every other word gets broken up with high pitched whimpers, loud moans, and heavy exhales. If you’re the type who relies a lot on sounds to get off, you’ll have no problems when you’re with him.

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

He would definitely want you to give him a footjob at some point.

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

Average size and girth. About 5.5-6”. Curved upwards a bit.

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

Very high. Expect to be fucking at LEAST once a day, even if it’s just oral or mutual masterbation. Though that doesn’t mean one round, he’ll probably wanna go at least 2-3 times in a row if he’s feeling needy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tries not to, but half the time he passes out almost immediately afterwards.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #smut #smut alphabet #x reader #gender neutral reader

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