#//He feels safe and comfortable enough with them to do that
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dcxdpdabbles · 16 hours ago
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DCxDP idea: Yeti Orders
Danny Fenton gets sent to Gotham by a worried FrostBite who thinks he's overworking himself. Danny will do no hero work for an entire year on his Yeti doctor's order to let his core heal from overuse.
He was even shipped through a portal to a similar universe with almost exact ectoplasm levels so that his usual foes would not bother him. The plan was to hide as a human in Gotham, letting his poor core get the much-needed rest.
Frostbite's contacts—whoever they were—managed to set up Danny's fake identity, complete with a home to call his own.
It was a somewhat run-down place, but it was isolated from the rest of the city due to some gas leak a few years back. It was safe to move into, but no one wanted to face the memories of the tragedy. Danny lives alone in the far corner of the city and loves it.
Danny is also told to try to avoid any high-stress-inducing work, so with that in mind, he finds himself applying for a job at the public library. He's a just age out of the system orphan who moved to the big city to try and make a new life for himself.
Every day, he skips onto the city bus, which stops just outside his street; he rides towards the center of Gotham, picks up a latte and some new pastry at the cafe near his work, and spends days filing away books. He gossips with his co-worker Barbara about his nonexistent love life and starts to feel normal for the first time since he was fourteen.
Danny giggles with Barbs about the most eligible bachelor under forty list two months into his medical retreat. He is swooning over Bruce Wayne- though Babs makes a face - when the door to the library is kicked open.
The two librarians gasp as a group of men wearing question marks march in a group of tightened people at gunpoint. Danny doesn't have time to react before two barrels point at him, and a man yells for them to join the group.
He is forced to kneel alongside random citizens unlucky enough to have been caught on the street. Babs is knocked off her chair to the ground. The man laughs as she tries to drag herself closer to the group, which causes Danny's core to flaar in rage.
Two hours go by, with everyone on their knees, surrounded by guards. They are hostages, but what for, Danny doesn't know. All that he can pray for is for everyone to stay calm until help comes.
Sadly, that doesn't seem to be the case when a baby wakes in his mother's arms and won't stop crying. The guards quickly lose patience with the panicking woman until they drag her away from the group and rip her child from her arms.
Danny can't stay by and watch anyone, not with the gun being pointed at a little one.
He ignores the ache his core thumps with as he prepares to change into Phantom and save everyone. Yes, Frostbite will be angry, which may set back all the healing he's done, but Danny doesn't think he has a choice.
"I'm going-"
A crash from overhead interrupts his battle cry as a figure drops down on the main guard. Danny watches, amazed, dumbfounded, as the person does some quick flips, kicks, and punches, dancing out of the way of bullets and taking down the kidnappers one right after the other.
They didn't even use powers. Just some form of martial arts. It was amazing.
Soon, the figure stands, surrounded by bodies, and really, this should be on a poster; it's such an excellent shot. The person, now that he's not a blur bouncing around the room kicking ass, looks like a man with a with a metal staff. He has a red and black costume, with a long black cape on his shoulders.
He walks over to the woman, handing her back the baby that he managed to save mid-punch. She clunches to her child, sobbing so hard she shakes and the man carefully offers her some comfort.
Danny might just be in love.
"Is everyone alright?" a new voice asks suddenly, right in the middle of the circle of hostages, causing Danny to release a scream. Seeing as everyone stops to turn to him, he is not proud of the fact. Danny glances at the newcomer who spoke, feeling his face heat up.
This one is mostly in blue, but his outfit is obviously made from the same material as the bo-staff man. He has an amused smile on his lips, which should be illegal.
"Don't mind, Danny," Babs says as someone helps her back into her chair. "He's not from Gotham. This is his first Bat encounter."
Everyone nods like that makes sense, no longer staring at him like he lost his mind. More and more Bats eventually show up, having defeated the Riddler- apparently a man who regularly kidnaps people to make riddles out of?- and everything gets sorted.
The Bats stay long enough for the police to show up and haul the goons to jail. Witness statements are taken. The medics treat anyone injured, and in all the chaos, the Bats vanish.
Babs closes the library early, sending Danny home with a relieved smile and the next two days off. At that time, he finds out everything he can about the Bats, and he is amazed that a whole clan of them is running around saving Gotham.
Danny quickly realizes that he doesn't need to be Phantom here. The city already has heroes keeping her safe.
Instead, he becomes the Bat Clan's number-one fan. Buying a laptop just to join fan forums, watch old footage of the Clans, and join the BatBurger loyalty program.
By the time the Libary reopens, Danny caved into the urge to write fanfiction. He uses Phantom as his username, figuring no one would ever know. He may enjoy his yeti orders a little more now.
Meanwhile, Babs is showing Tim the fanfiction about Red Robin falling in love with a civilian. She laughs at how much Tim gets into it because Danny really does have a talent for the written word.
"Has he written anything else?" Tim asks once he catches up with the latest chapter.
"He just posted a new story about Batman falling in love with Bruce Wayne," Babs says, watching the numbers on his views rise. "It's only five chapters so far, but apparently, the world-building is amazing."
"Phantom wrote that the Bats were a ghosts of some kind." Dick yells from where he is also reading the Red Robin fanfiction, "Frankly, I'm flattered by how hot he made Nightwing sound."
"You sure he's not a threat?" Tim asks, clicking open the new fic with barely concealed glee.
"No. Danny has a weak heart. Per his doctor's orders, he can't be in any stressful situation. He's just a sweet kid who became our fan after the save from Riddler." Babs says, "I highly doubt we'll see him near the cape scene."
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thelindenpapers · 17 hours ago
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"who taught you that suffering in silence was noble, and how would you shutting up have benefited them?"
It's often something you learn when you're in an abusive or oppressive situation.
Especially long-term.
And especially if those long-term situations occur multiple times throughout life.
I grew up in an extremely racist/misogynist community.
They learned that they couldn't bully or intimidate me ...but they would pick on anyone who tried to defend me.
And that later expanded into them shunning or bullying anyone who I let on that I liked, or even worse, was crushing on.
I grew up with an abusive, fascist father.
He killed our dog. Why? Because it kept angrily and loudly barking every time he was trying to hurt Mom and me.
More than that: in my childhood community, anyone I tried to talk to would either ignore me like I was a ghost, or, shout slurs and death threats in my face. I'm talking early on in life: Before kindergarten, Kindergarten to at LEAST thru 3rd grade.
So:
You learn that anyone you like gets punished for the grevious faux pas of being liked by you.
You learn that anyone who tries to help you, gets hurt or even killed.
You learn that almost nobody comes to help when you cry for help.
You learn that even trying to talk or say 'Hi' to people, results in them suddenly appearing harmed or troubled or annoyed or angry, somehow.
...And why wouldn't I be silent?
As a feral kid, no one was going to listen to me anyway, no one was going to care how I felt about anything or about how anything was affecting me.
And if I did tell?
People frequently took the abuser's side.
Just as the cops did, the very first time I was finally old enough to threaten dad right back!
Don't even get me started on my marriage.
How long are you supposed to keep on telling a person, 'Hey, these are my needs, and I need your help to get something done about it please.
Hey, I should probably see a doctor, why aren't you letting me have access?
Hey, we really need to talk about our relationship. I don't know why you don't want to spend bonding time together.
Why are you making it so difficult for me to try to get a job or an education?
Why are you sabotaging my writing efforts?
Why do you get so upset at my physical activities?
What is with the panic when you see I'm trying to advance my tech skills?
Why does it anger you so much when I try to be proactive and vigilant in making us a comfortable and clean and helpful home?'.....
He actually complained to me:
"Why can't you just LIE?"
About being happy.
About being well.
So yeah.
Why would I want to ask his (or his parents) help in anything. I can't trust them at all.
Why would I allow someone to help if it might get them hurt or killed in the attempt?
Why would I bother to let anyone know? When, after SO many years of being stuck in a deep pit of a life, to help me would probably cause WAY more stress and take WAY more effort and resources, than any one person could possibly offer or endure?
Why would I do that?
When someone might decide to try and help, start the process -- decide partway through that it's all too much, and abandon the process: leaving me in a position that is less safe than where I started?
( Hell, sometimes that is an on-purpose thing. When a person feels bad, and knows they can't or don't want to help, but they'll make a gesture to make themselves feel good, not caring whether what they try to do is actually helpful or effective. )
And why would I tell people exactly what I'm going through, when so many around me would instead:
Victim-blame me.
Call me a liar.
Assume I was crazy.
Nod sympathetically and then use it as a way for them to feel much better about how they're doing in their own lives.
Say it's too much, say it's not so bad, or say others have it way worse.
Enjoy my explanation and my existence as a form of entertainment like I'm their personal IRL soap opera.
Or, use the information that I've given them about me as a way to hurt me further -- since they now seem to think that I'm some easy target, or that, in some twisted sense, abusing me further is somehow less morally bad, and more acceptable: because I've been abused before.....
So in their eyes, I'm 'Already soiled'?
'Already hopeless'?
'Already nothing'?
It's nothing to do with moral superiority.
It's survival.
...And I'm not saying it's right.
In an ideal situation, absolutely: being helped at any point in my life would have been great!
A healthier social structure would allow for this.
In a world where care was offered by the Community rather than by the individual, I wouldn't worry about speaking, just to find myself in worse trouble than when the 'helping' process started...
But this ain't a healthy world yet.
^^;
You asked why people feel that way.
So I've told you all the reasons why they might.
YMMV. 🤷🏾‍♀️
who taught you that suffering in silence was noble, and how would you shutting up have benefited them?
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mononijikayu · 13 hours ago
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live updates — gojo satoru.
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As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking.  “Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!” Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments. His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls.  You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction. He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, slice of life, light hearted, domestic, romance, long distance relationship, pet names (baby, doll, baby doll, etc), banter, flirting, humour, happy ending, hurt/comfort, pining, weariness, depictions of long distance relationship, depiction of pining, depiction of weariness, depiction of slice of life, actor! gojo, non-celebrity! reader, this is how deep gojo would love you;
WORD COUNT: 5.9k words
NOTE: the people have chosen and people have chosen gojo as the second rank for the poll. i thought of this as a parallel to hey lover series!!! one can only wonder what sort of lover gojo would be, especially with the type of schedule he would have had as an actor. but i love to think that gojo satoru is the type to make everything work, even in long distance. also a lot of this was inspired by kim seokjin of bts playing games on weverse live and i hope yall enjoy that too. anyway, i love you all so much!!! please take care, keep safe. its getting colder!!! mwah <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip!
IT WAS HARD DATING SOMEONE WHO WAS FAMOUS. But it was your life. Gojo Satoru, your famous singer and actor boyfriend, had been booked for an extended stint abroad, and the thought of not seeing him for weeks weighed heavily on you. 
Though he’d send the occasional text or call when he could, you both knew it wasn’t enough. And especially for him — who was more clingy than you were. 
But one of those nights, during one of his brief calls, your beloved boyfriend Satoru had finally proposed a plan to you as you were laying on your bed alone.
“I know you’re worried about me being away for so long. So… how about I do a livestream every week? I’ll play some silly games, and you can see for yourself that I’m alive and well."
Your brows furrowed at him. "But Satoru, your privacy? Don't you—"
"It's okay, baby. I don't mind. Plus, I know you’ll love watching me lose miserably. And you know, everyone knows we’re dating anyway. I might as well make a declaration of my love for you like this.”
You didn't think that you could argue about what he wanted.
But you can't help but feel warmth when he kisses your check.
Gojo Satoru has never loved much of life as much as he did you.
And somehow, you fall in love with him hard, again.
The following week, true to his word, your phone pinged with a notification: GojoSatoruLIVE – Silly Games & Updates. You clicked the link, your screen filling with your boyfriend’s signature grin. That had made you smile for the first time in a while.
“Hey doll!” he greeted playfully. “Miss me? I know it’s been tough, but I thought this would make things easier. So, every week, I’ll be here, streaming just for you.”
Week 1 
THE FIRST WEEK FEELS EASY. Gojo Satoru started off confidently with a game that seemed laughably easy. One where you had to stack blocks without knocking them over. As the screen showed colorful blocks teetering precariously, he flashed a grin at the camera.
“Easy peasy, baby!” he boasted, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for some grand feat. With the first few blocks, he was doing fine…..until, naturally, the tower began to wobble.
You could see the moment his confidence faltered, his eyes widening comically. "No, no, no—hey, hey, hey! Stay up, stay up—"
The tower collapsed in a spectacular fashion, blocks scattering across the screen with dramatic sound effects. Satoru groaned, slapping his forehead. 
“Alright, maybe not so easy…..” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if the game had personally insulted him. “But don’t worry, I’m just warming up! Next round, guys. Trust! This will finally be a guaranteed win. Put your trust in the strongest! Baby, believe in your boyfie!”
Spoiler: He did not win the next round.
After the third round of failed block stacking, with this time with the tower collapsing before he even got halfway through, Satoru finally gave up, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms dramatically. He lets out a heavy sigh and takes a moment, moving forward on his PC.
“Okay, clearly this game is rigged, baby.” he declared, throwing a hand toward the screen. “They knew I’d be playing, so they made it impossible. But don’t worry, I’m too talented to be brought down by a bunch of blocks.”
Between his attempts to master the game, he filled you in on his week. He smiled through it, happily so. You missed how much he would yap to you. It’s alright, seeing him yap over the screen. But it was different, when he’s next to you. 
“The shoots have been exhausting. You wouldn’t believe how many times they made me retake a shot where I’m just standing still. Apparently, my natural charm is ‘too distracting,’ so they wanted me to tone it down.” 
He shot the camera a playful smirk, knowing full well that toning down anything wasn’t in his nature. Gojo Satoru’s charm was always going to hit. But you know he plays it for you more than anything. The rest of the world does not know how killer that charm is in the morning sun, while beside him.
“But the crew’s great, though!” he continued, glancing at the screen as another round of blocks came tumbling down. “They’re really professional—don’t get me wrong. But do you think it’s normal for someone to eat six plates of pasta for lunch? Because I might’ve done that.” 
He threw in a sheepish grin, as if he wasn’t fully aware of his own ridiculous appetite. “What can I say? I ordered too much food. But it was amazing! I need to take you there when I’m back.”
Every time he glanced at the camera, it felt like he was speaking directly to you, his playful tone and teasing smile making the miles between you seem insignificant.
"Oh, and don’t think I forgot, baby. You should be prepared! Next time you have to play this with me! Bet you can’t beat my high score."
Given that his “high score” was barely two blocks stacked, you couldn’t help but laugh at the challenge.
Before signing off, Satoru dramatically wiped his forehead as if the session had been physically taxing.
“Whew. Alright, I think I’ve done enough damage here. I’ll work on my block-stacking skills for next week. And by ‘work on’ I mean completely forget this game exists. But, hey, at least I look good no matter what I’m doing, right?”
He flashed one last charming grin at the camera. “See you next week, doll. And don’t worry, my beloved doll. I’m alive, full of pasta, and missing you terribly.”
And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his silliness and the comfort that, no matter how far apart you both were, your Satoru will always found a way to make you smile.
Week 2
HE MESSAGED YOU WHEN HE WAS GOING ON LIVE. And of course, you already had some delivery food and some wine ready, watching your lover start it all up. Gojo Satoru kicked off the livestream with a smirk, this time ready to tackle a racing game. He looked way too confident for someone who spent last week losing to virtual blocks. 
“Alright, this game? I’m winning first place, no question!” he said, pointing at the screen like it was already a done deal.
The race started off well for your boyfriend. Satoru’s cute character zipped off the starting line like a pro. He was looking confident about all of it. He was smirking beyond compare. He looked too handsome.
“Look at that speed! I’m practically untouchable. Ka-chow, baby! I am speeeedddd!” he boasted, dramatically leaning into each turn as if that would help his in-game car. For a moment, it seemed like he was actually doing okay.
Then he hit a banana peel.
“WHAT?!” His car spun out, and his screen lit up with the mocking sound of other players zooming past him. Satoru’s jaw dropped. “Who put that there? Who’s sabotaging me? What the hell? How am I not winning? It was so close!” 
He glanced at the camera, his dramatic flair fully on display. “Alright, alright, that’s fine. I’m just building suspense. You don’t wanna see me win too easily, right?”
But then came the red shells. One after another. His car spun out more times than you could count, and by the time he finally crossed the finish line, he was dead last. 
A giant “12th PLACE” flashed on the screen.
He stared at it for a long moment, letting the defeat sink in before dramatically flopping back in his chair. You giggled at his reaction. Satoru pursed his lips, looking at the camera, eyes furrowed with disappointment.
“Okay, maybe these games are rigged, baby!” he sighed, pouting like a kid who’d lost at hide-and-seek. “This is not a fair play game, game company!”
He threw his hands up in mock surrender, laughing at himself. “Who am I kidding? This game’s obviously cheating. No one’s that bad at driving… except maybe Kento. His driving is really really bad, guys. Girls, guys, gays, non-conforming friends! You should find a good driver if you don’t like his designated driver for the rest of your life!”
Before he could dwell on his loss any longer, you heard a crash off-camera, followed by giggles. Satoru barely had time to react before his door burst open, and barged into the room were Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara, looking like they were on a mission to cause chaos.
“Yo, yo, sensei! Gojooooooooo!” Yuji called out, grinning as he dove into your boyfriend’s bed. “Heard you were losing, so we came to help!”
“More like witnessing the disaster. This is hilarious!” Nobara added with a mischievous smirk, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.
Satroru tried to maintain his composure, waving them off. “I’m not losing, I’m just… learning the course.”
Yuji peered at the screen, pointing at the humiliating “12th PLACE” graphic still displayed. “Uh-huh. Looks like you’ve learned nothing.”
Satoru groaned, dramatically dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, fine! The game might not be my strongest skill. But have you seen me act?”
He shot them both a grin, trying to distract from his gaming disaster. “Photoshoots in the morning, Jujutsu Kaisen shoots all day, meetings all night. You know, someone has to look good while you two slack off.”
“Yeah, yeah, big shot.” Nobara rolled her eyes. “But seriously, how are you this bad? It’s a racing game. Even Yuji could win this!”
Yuji, looking offended, gave her a nudge. “Hey, I’m great at racing games!”
Satoru waved his hand dismissively. “Okay, enough out of you two! I’ll do better next time, promise. But let’s be real here, kiddos! You don’t come here for the gaming skills, you come here for the charm.” 
He winked at the camera towards you, clearly trying to salvage his bruised ego. “Ain’t that right, doll?”
You giggled at his little flying kiss soon after. 
Your boyfriend’s really the cutest person.
And as he smiled, you know that his ego recovered.
Meanwhile, Yuji had already grabbed a controller, grinning like he was about to show up his mentor. “How about I show you how it’s done?”
Nobara crossed her arms and nodded at Satoru. “Yeah, maybe let the kids handle this. You stick to acting pretty and being on time to set for once.”
Satoru’s bright eyes widened dramatically. “Oh, on time? Me? Never!”
As the chaos continued with Yuji and Nobara heckling him every time he lost, Gojo Satoru somehow managed to throw in a few updates about his week to you. 
“The photoshoots are still insane, though.” he said over the sound of Yuji crashing his own car into a wall. “The pictures are going on the wall again, doll!”
“Early mornings, late-night meetings… But I’m hanging in there. Mostly because of this.” He motioned to the livestream. “You guys and you, my baby doll. You all keep me going. But well, my baby doll the most, guys. That’s my baby.”
Nobara rolled her eyes. “You’re so sappy, bro.”
“Yeah, cause that’s my baby, kid! Sorry you and Maki aren’t—”
“I’m gonna strangle you!” She glared.
Satoru only laughed and Nobara rolled her eyes, but more playful this time. Even with Yuji tackling him from the side in an attempt to “help” and Nobara giving snarky commentary on his every move, your beloved Satoru never lost that playful grin. He shot you one last wink before wrapping things up.
“Alright, I gotta deal with these two. See you next week. And trust me, I’ll win something by then. Maybe.”
But as the camera faded out, you had a feeling his streak of terrible gaming luck—and hilarious weekly chaos—was far from over. You closed your computer and heard the sound of your phone. You smiled even wider. You gotta comfort your winter bear and his pouty self.
Week 3 
YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS BACK FOR MORE. And you were of course, here once again. You smiled watching his face surface on your screen. Satoru quickly started the stream with his signature grin, announcing his latest challenge for his weekly check ins. And that tonight, ladies, gents and non–binary folks, is this new puzzle game. 
“Alright, baby, everyone else in this live, this one should be easy. I mean, c’mon, I’m a genius. I’ve got six eyes and an IQ off the charts.” he quipped, wiggling his fingers like he was casting some sort of brainy spell. 
He clicked through the game’s introduction with the confidence of someone who definitely hadn’t been last place in a racing game just the week before.
For the first few minutes, Satoru seemed to be doing fine, solving the initial puzzles like a pro. “See? Easy stuff. I could do this in my sleep!” he bragged.
But then came a more complicated challenge, involving color-coded switches and hidden doors. That’s when the trouble started.
“Wait… why won’t this thing move?” Satoru muttered, squinting at the screen. He tried a few more random clicks, then groaned. “Okay, clearly the game is intimidated by my genius.” 
He furiously tapped at his keyboard to no avail. “This is just me taking a break from being smart all the time. Gotta give the game a fighting chance, y’know?” 
He shot the camera a playful smirk, but you could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to solve the puzzle. “Nah, actually I’d win!”
Minutes ticked by, and Satoru was still stuck on the same puzzle. His face was entirely frozen on his focus. But then his face fell and frowned.  He finally leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. 
“Alright, alright, I’ll figure it out… eventually.” He gave a dramatic sigh, like the weight of his own intelligence was too much to bear. “But don’t worry, I’ve got this. Probably.”
As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking. 
“Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!”
Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments.
His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls. 
You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction.
He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”
“The hotel’s nice, sure, but it’s not the same without you around.” He paused, glancing at the camera like he was talking directly to you. “The bed’s too big for one person, you know?”
There was a rare, genuine vulnerability in his voice, just for a moment, before he quickly shifted back to his usual playful tone. “But hey, I’m doing fine. And this, what we do here, what I do for you….this makes it easier. Talking to you like this after missing you so much, baby. This makes it all worth it. I can’t wait to be home, but yeah, I…I treasure this.”
Right on cue, there was a loud crash from somewhere behind him. Satoru jumped, whipping around in his chair. “What the—?”
The door to his hotel room flew open, and in strolled Ieiri Shoko and Geto Suguru, looking like they’d just come from causing trouble elsewhere. Shoko had a cigarette dangling from her lips, her usual cool smirk in place, while Suguru just raised a casual hand in greeting.
“Yo, Satoru!” Suguru said, settling into a nearby chair like he owned the place.
Satoru groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Ugh! Do you two ever knock?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Shoko teased, blowing out a puff of smoke. She glanced at the camera, noticing the livestream for the first time. “Oh, you’re streaming? Hey there!”
Her eyes lit up as she leaned closer to the camera, her smirk growing wider. “So, this is the famous partner, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you, darling.”
Satoru’s eyes narrowed, his smile faltering just slightly. “Shoko, don’t—”
But it was too late. Shoko winked at the camera. “You know, I’ve always thought Gojo was a bit out of his league with you. I mean, you could do better, right? Maybe someone a little more… mature?” She gave a slow, suggestive smile, clearly enjoying herself.
Satoru’s mouth fell open in horror. “Shoko, stop! Stop rizzing my pookie!” he warned, though his voice was more panicked than commanding. He glanced nervously at the chat.
But then you, ever the tease, decided to play along. You typed a comment back: "Well, Shoko, I don’t know... maybe you should take me out sometime and we’ll see."
Gojo’s reaction was immediate. He nearly fell out of his chair, his face going from cocky to full-on betrayed. “WHAT?! No! You—don’t flirt back!” 
He was waving his arms wildly, trying to contain the chaos. “Baby, don’t do this! I can’t lose you like this! I’m not gonna win over a lesbian, oh my god—”
Meanwhile, Shoko was laughing so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye. “Ooooh, now this I like!” she said, blowing a kiss to the camera. “You’re my new favorite person.”
Suguru, watching the entire scene unfold with a bemused smile, finally chimed in. “This is more entertaining than your puzzle game, Satoru. Maybe we should join your streams more often.”
Satoru looked like he was on the verge of losing it. “I’m being attacked! Betrayed! By everyone! This is treason!” 
He pointed an accusing finger at the camera at you. He was sure you were giggling (you were). “And you—you’re flirting with Shoko?! I’m the charming boyfriend here, not her!”
Shoko gave him a pat on the head, like he was an overexcited puppy. “Don’t be so jealous, Satoru. It’s cute.”
Satoru dramatically slumped in his chair, groaning like his entire world had been turned upside down. “I’m never living this down, am I?”
With one last exasperated glance at the camera, Satoru sighed. “Alright, next week’s stream will be Shoko-free. I can’t take any more of this. I can’t be single because of Shoko stealing my lover!” he muttered, still pouting.
But before the stream ended, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Even with all the teasing, the playful banter, and the flirting with Shoko, Your Satoru still looked like he was having the time of his life. And that, more than anything, made the distance between you feel just a little bit smaller.
Week 4
ONCE AGAIN, YOU SAT ON YOUR BED AND WAITED FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND���S FACE TO SURFACE. After a few seconds, Gojo Satoru started the stream with his usual swagger and that massive grin on his face.
You didn’t know what he had planned this time, he hadn’t told you. He kept saying that you should wait and be patient for today. So, you let him have that time to surprise you. Your boyfriend after all just knows how to make things enjoyable for you.
“So, I’ve been thinking, baby…..” he began, leaning closer to the camera with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Why keep all this awesomeness to myself when I can humiliate my friends in front of you, too?” 
He gestured off-screen, and a moment later, Geto Suguru appeared, settling into a chair beside him.
“Hey, hey!” Geto Suguru said with a casual wave. “I’m here to destroy Satoru’s fragile ego.”
Satoru laughed, tossing an arm around Geto’s shoulders. “Oh, please. I’m the one who invited you so I could have some real competition. You’re just here for moral support.” 
He booted up a multiplayer game, something fast-paced and competitive, and the two of them were off to the races—literally.
Even with Suguru beside him, Satoru couldn’t help but turn to the camera every few minutes, his grin widening each time he won a round. After each victory, he’d shoot you a wink or blow a kiss. 
“See that? Just for you, baby.” he’d say with a smug grin. “I’m winning like this. I am a champion for love, obviously. For my baby doll! Suguru is just here to make me look better, don't you think?"
Suguru snorted. “Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.”
As the game went on, the banter between them was relentless. Whenever Suguru would take the lead, Gojo Satoru would dramatically cry out in defeat. “This is a betrayal of our friendship!” he’d declare, throwing his hands in the air. 
But then, when Satoru inevitably snatched victory back, he’d lean in toward the camera, shooting another flirty wink your way. “I win again. See? All for you, baby.”
But beneath all the fun and games, you could sense the subtle shift. Despite his usual bravado, there was a heaviness in Satoru's weary eyes that he couldn’t completely hide. 
He masked it with jokes and over-the-top celebrations, but the long hours were starting to take a toll on him. His posture slouched just a little more than usual, and there was a tiredness in his voice when he wasn’t cracking jokes.
In between rounds, Satoru gave his usual updates, trying to keep things light. “The shoots have been intense, baby.” he admitted, running a hand through his messy white hair. “Long days, early mornings—nothing I can’t handle, though.” 
He flashed his signature grin, but there was a flicker of weariness behind it. “I’ve got another shoot tomorrow, but I’m surviving. It’s just… ya know… typical world-class star stuff.”
Suguru glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone, Satoru. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
Satoru waved him off with a laugh. “Oh, c’mon, I’m invincible. Sleep is for mortals. Besides, I’ll be home soon, I promise.” He said the last part softer, his gaze flicking toward the camera, just for a moment, and you could tell he was talking to you. “I can cuddle and sleep more like that!”
There was a beat of silence, an unspoken acknowledgment that the distance was hard on both of you. But before the mood could dip too far, Satoru jumped back into character, clapping his hands together. “Alright, enough of that! Let’s get back to the important stuff—me kicking Suguru’s butt.”
Suguru rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, blue lagoon.”
They dove back into the game, the playful rivalry picking up where it left off. But through all the chaos, you could tell that your boyfriend was pushing through for you, making sure the livestream stayed fun, even if he was running on fumes.
As the stream neared its end, Satoru paused for a moment, turning to the camera with a more genuine smile. One that you know that was one that was eagerly hopeful.
Just a little more time, he'll be home. This will end soon. He'll be in your arms. He just has to be patient. He just has to be strong. Gojo Satoru will do it. He'll do it for you.
“Thanks for sticking with me through all this.” he said, his tone a little softer now. “I know I’m far away, but I’m doing my best to be here every week. And hey, just a little longer, and I’ll be home.”
Suguru, never one to miss an opportunity, gave him a nudge. “You gonna blow another kiss or what? The fans demand it. But I'm pretty sure your partner deserves it more.”
Satoru grinned, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. One more for the road.” He leaned in, blowing a dramatic kiss to the camera before signing off with a wink. “See you next week, babe. And I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”
But as the screen faded to black, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter how exhausted he was, Gojo  Satoru would always find a way to make you feel like you were right there with him. And you wish you could reach for him and hug him and love him.
Week 5
YOU COULD TELL THE FATIGUE IS GETTING TO HIM. Gojo Satoru appeared on the screen, looking a little rough around the edges. His normally energetic presence was dimmed, and the steam from a mug of hot tea curled lazily into the air. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes before flashing the camera a tired grin. 
“Okay, I’ll admit it—I’m running on fumes today!” he said with a chuckle. “But I couldn’t skip out on our weekly thing. You’d worry too much if I didn’t show, right?”
He pulled up a simple, relaxing game. A rare choice for your boyfriend. He doesn’t have patience sometimes for the low-stakes and slow games, clearly not aiming for any impressive wins this time around. It was a farming simulator, of all things. 
“Thought I’d try my hand at growing virtual crops since, you know, I’m such an agricultural genius, baby.” he joked, though the usual punch behind his words wasn’t quite there.
Despite his exhaustion, Satoru made an effort to keep things light. As his character in the game wandered around aimlessly through the area, he started to give you some of the small updates about his life again between sips of peppermint tea.
“The shoots have been brutal this week. Lots of action scenes, lots of stunts... and my stunt double called in sick, so guess who’s been throwing himself through walls all week?” 
He gave a halfhearted laugh, but you could tell the long days were catching up to him. “But I'm not one to give up. I’ll do my best, baby!”
Every few minutes, though, when the tiredness seemed to pull him down, Satoru would catch himself. His gaze would flick to the camera, and he’d muster up that bright, reassuring smile—the one you loved. 
“Don’t worry about me, alright?” he’d say, his voice soft but playful. “I’m tougher than I look. I’ll be home before you know it.”
There was something endearing about the way he refused to let you see just how worn out he was. He’d fumble through the game, occasionally getting distracted and letting his crops wither, but he didn’t seem to mind.
The game wasn’t the point, it never was. For him, it was just a reason to be there, to share some part of his life with you, even from miles away. He wanted nothing more than to know that he's making you smile on the other side of the world, that he's with you even when he's not beside you.
Midway through the stream, he leaned back and sighed, glancing off-camera for a moment before turning his attention back to you. “You know, these weekly streams… they’re the best part of my week right now.” 
His voice was quieter, more sincere now. “I know it’s silly, playing these dumb games just to check in, but it makes me feel like we’re not so far apart. I miss you, baby doll. Miss you so so bad.”
For a second, the cracks in his usual bravado showed. His weariness, the toll of being away for so long, all of it flickered across his face. But then, just as quickly, he covered it up with another grin. You know he did that, just for you. 
“But hey, no need to get all sappy and sad about it. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll cook you that terrible breakfast you love so much, baby doll. But don't worry, my coffee brew will make up for all of it!”
Even though the stream was shorter than usual, it felt like a lifeline—not just for you, but for him too. These weekly check-ins had become more than just updates; for you or for him.
No, they were more than that. They were a way for both of you to stay grounded, to share a piece of normalcy despite the distance. And no matter how drained he was, Gojo Satoru never failed to show up. It was his way of saying, "I'm okay. We're okay. We always will be, because this is love."
As the stream wound down, Satoru waved to the camera with a tired but genuine smile. “Alright, that’s all for tonight. Sorry it’s a short one, but I’ll make it up to you next week. Maybe I’ll find a game I’m actually good at soon enough, baby.” he teased.
Then, as always, he ended the stream with the same words, his voice softer than usual, like a promise he was determined to keep. “Soon, doll. I’ll be back soon.”
And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his voice lingering in your mind and the quiet reassurance that, no matter how far away he was, Gojo Satoru was still finding his way back to you.
Week 6
HE HASN’T LET GO OF YOU SINCE HE CAME HOME. Somehow, your beloved boyfriend had become overly attached to you after being gone for more than five weeks.
You didn’t mind, though. You missed him too much. And now that you have him all to yourself, you were just happy to make him happy, to indulge him. It was your turn to be his penicillin after a long suffering in parting. 
That was what you were doing as you joined him for his new little live. Your chair leaned closer to his as the feed started to broadcast. And of course, with all the energy in him — your beloved boyfriend starts the stream with an excited yell.
"Guess who’s finally home, yall!" Satoru practically bounced in his chair, dragging you into the frame beside him. His arm was slung over your shoulders, and his grin was so wide it was almost cartoonish. "This lucky boy, hah-hah!" 
“I’m back with my one and only, guys. Best day of my life! And the first thing I’m doing to celebrate? Playing games with my better half. How lucky am I?”
He leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, throwing a wink at the camera. You giggle as the blush became evident on your cheeks. He seems satisfied knowing he's made you blush like that in front of millions.
“Don’t be jealous, everyone. I know you’ve missed this face, but now it’s all theirs.”
The comments section immediately exploded with his castmates popping in.
YujiItadori: “Let’s gooooo! The dream team’s together again!”
NobaraK: “Bet they’re cheating, already ganging up on us before the game even starts.”
Shoko: “I didn’t tune in to watch Gojo. Move over so we can see the real star of the stream.”
Megumi: "I can't believe they love him so much, they're staying like that."
Satoru read Shoko’s comment out loud with a laugh. “Ah, Shoko, ever the comedian. You’ll have to settle for watching me kick your butt in this game, though.” 
Then he read Megumi's comment. He leaned in and then narrows his eyes. "You just hate true love Megumi!"
You smiled at him. "He's a lot, but I love him!"
"They love me, ah!" Satoru says dramatically, starting to act like he was hit by the arrow of love. He slumps on the back of his gaming chair. "I am more in love!"
"Oh, Satoru, be careful." You smiled at him, tapping his arm softly. "The game's about to start."
He turned to you as he leans forward. Satoru starts fumbling wit his own gaming controller with a smirk. “Ready to show these amateurs how it’s done?”
But before you could even pick up your own controller, you were sure that you heard the notification sound. Soon enough, you saw the new comment popped up on the screen. It was from Shoko. 
Shoko: “Actually, I just wanted to say your hair looks amazing today, babes. Oh, and by the way. I’m free tonight if you wanna hang out. I’m nearby, if you wanna go clubbing.”
You burst out laughing, quickly typing back as you talk it out loud. “Thanks, Shoko! Maybe we can grab drinks later. Satoru doesn’t mind, do you?” You shot Satoru a teasing look, eyes glinting with mischief.
Satoru froze, his playful grin faltering for just a second before he shot a mock glare at you. “Excuse me?” He leaned toward the camera dramatically, addressing Shoko directly. 
You giggle. “It would be fun! Shoko thinks I’m pretty! You have that in common, we’ll get along!”
“What is this? Flirting with my partner on my livestream? Rude.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “First, they steal my heart, and now you’re trying to steal them from me, too? At least give me a chance to enjoy being back home!”
You snickered, leaning into his shoulder. “Shoko’s just appreciating what she sees. Can you blame her?”
Shoko: “Exactly. Someone around here has to appreciate your beauty for what it is, babes. And it ain’t Gojo Satoru!”
Satoru groaned loudly, slapping a hand to his forehead. “I’ve been home for five minutes, and I’m already fighting for my life.” He glanced at the camera, eyes wide in mock horror. “Help me, chat. This is supposed to be our time, and now I’m stuck playing third wheel in my own relationship.”
The comments section erupted with laughter.
And of course, a lot of teasing for Satoru.
You grinned even wider at him.
NobaraK: “Shoko is winning the game and she’s not even playing.”
Megumi: “This is why I don’t watch these streams. It’s always chaos.”
YujiItadori: “This is amazing. Gojo Satoru who?”
Determined to regain control, Satoru pulled you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he looked straight at the computer camera. Your boyfriend's face was certainly echoing that childish pout was all too evident on his features.
“Alright, enough of this betrayal!” he said with a grin. “Let’s focus on what’s important for all of the world’s happiness and that’s us destroying everyone in this game, together. The real dream team.” 
He lifted your hand with the controller, making you both move in sync to start the game. But even as the game started, the playful banter didn’t stop. Satoru kept glancing at the chat, where Shoko continued to drop flirty comments for you, egging you on.
You of course couldn't help but match her energy and played along. As the game continued, you were periodically sending back winks and typing responses that made Satoru groan even louder and you stopped, putting it down with a laugh. 
“Why do you enjoy tormenting me like this?” he whined, though his smile never left his face.
You just grinned. “Because it’s fun. And you’re cute when you pout.”
He paused the game for a second, dramatically clutching his chest. “Cute? I’m not supposed to be cute! I’m supposed to be hot and cool and, like, super mysterious!”
Without missing a beat, you leaned closer to the mic and said in a low voice, “Shoko, he’s not mysterious at all. He leaves his socks everywhere and talks in his sleep.”
Satoru’s bright eyes widened in mock betrayal, and the chat exploded again.
Shoko: “Noted. Definitely better off hanging out with you later.”
YujiItadori: “HIS SOCKS??? WHAT????”
“You’re supposed to be on my side, baby!” Satoru cried, laughing so hard he could barely hold his controller. “I just got back, and this is what I come home to—slander!”
But beneath all the playful chaos and teasing, there was a warmth between you both that even the camera couldn’t miss. Every time Satoru glanced at you, he couldn't help but fold easily.
There was a softness in his eyes, a kind of quiet relief that he was finally home. And even though the flirting and jokes kept flying, it was obvious that he was just happy to be here, with you, sharing this silly moment.
As the stream wrapped up, Satoru threw an arm around your shoulders again, flashing a final grin at the camera.
“Alright, guys, it’s been real. But I think it’s time for me to kick back and enjoy being home with my partner. And Homewrecker Ieiri Shoko, this is for you!” he pointed at the screen with a playful glare. “Hands off.”
He winked, pulling you closer as you both waved goodbye to the viewers. “See you next week—if Shoko doesn’t steal my thunder completely by then.”
Jujutsu Kaisen's Satoru Gojo Brodcasts For A Whole Month For His Partner — Insiders said, 'He's Hopelessly In Love' with them!
In an unexpected turn of events, actor and singer Satoru Gojo has taken the internet by storm, not for his acting chops or musical talent, but for his endearing displays of affection towards his partner during his gaming livestreams.
The mega superstar who has always been more private about his life out of work is now screaming from the rooftops. He screams for his love towards them. And he's not going to stop.
The actor in a short few weeks have become a viral sensation as fans and media outlets alike can’t get enough of how "hopelessly in love" he is.
What started as casual, late-night gaming sessions on Twitch quickly turned into a phenomenon as viewers noticed something beyond the usual gaming commentary. Gojo Satoru’s soft, love-struck behavior whenever his partner joined the chat was heartwarming to his audience.
Whether it was him gushing about his partner’s smile, dedicating his game victories to them, or just pausing the action to talk sweetly, Gojo Satoru’s streams became must-watch content.
One memorable moment that caught the attention of fans worldwide was when Gojo, in the middle of an intense match, suddenly smiled and blushed, saying, “I just got a text from my partner. Everything stops when they message me.”
This short clip has since gone viral among the netizens and especially with his global group of fans. This has been received with immense positivity and love, with fans dubbing him “the ultimate simp” in the most affectionate way possible.
It’s not just the fans who have been swept away by Gojo’s open adoration. Major media outlets have picked up on the story, with headlines like “Satoru Gojo: Hollywood’s Ultimate Romantic” and “Inside the Heart of a Superstar: Gojo Satoru is Head Over Heels.”
And one good bet, with his massive popularity, he would go beyond viral. Indeed, that's what happened! Social media is flooded with clips from his livestreams, showing him talking about his love for his beloved partner with a soft grin that could melt anyone’s heart.
"I never thought I’d be watching an action game to see a rom-com play out!" one fan commented on Twitter.
Another added. "Forget the game, I’m here for Gojo Satoru being jealous about Shoko Ieiri flirting with his partner!”
In interviews, Gojo Satoru has remained unbothered by the sudden attention. “I just love them, really.” he said, shrugging with a sheepish grin when asked about the viral clips. "They’re my everything, so yeah, I’m a little obsessed."
Fans have now turned into self-proclaimed shippers of Gojo Satoru and his partner, creating fan art, videos, and even shipping hashtags. While Gojo Satoru continues his career as a heartthrob in film and music, it’s his real-life love story that’s currently winning over the internet with a happily devoted live update.
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danikamariewrites · 2 days ago
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Falling
Cassian x reader
Note: sorry for my absence, I’ve been busy and unmotivated the last weeks. I don’t like to talk about politics but I want you all to know that I’m very unhappy with the election and it’s upset me. I really have nothing else to say because quite frankly im speechless. Know that my blog is a safe space and you can reach out to me any time if you want to vent because I will vent right there with you.
On a slightly better note, this has motivated me to keep being creative. Writing and being in a creative space has truly kept me going over the last few years and I refuse to stop. Mainly because if I stop I think I’ll just give up. And I’m not fucking giving up because this has been the best distraction. Sorry for the long note but I just wanted to get that out there and know you’re not alone in your frustration. ❤️
Warnings: some angst
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Cassian was exhausted. He knew he was when he looked into your bright eyes as you excitedly waited for him to pick you up to fly home and couldn’t bring himself to lift you.
His mind wasn’t in the right place to enjoy the closeness of you in his arms. You always deserved him at a hundred percent, especially when your life was in his hands. Not while he was still actively thinking about Devlon getting in his face about their disagreement.
Even now, only minutes away from home, Cassian was still clenching his jaw, ruminating about the words Devlon spat at him.
Cassian was pissed that Devlon ruined his day. He had big plans for you that included a dinner reservation and him finally telling you how he feels about you. Only took him two years to gain the courage to decide he would tell you how in love with you he is. And now he’s too in his head to even fathom saying “I’m in love with you y/n.”
Azriel flying next to him with you in his arms wasn’t helping his mood either. Every time he heard you and Az talk or laugh his jealousy grew. It was his own fault though.
Flying over the Sidra the House of Wind finally comes into view. The monstrous house on the cliff had relief flowing through Cassian. Almost home, Cassian tells himself over and over.
Looking over at you and Azriel he sees a smile bloom on your face as you look down at the glittering water, you point out the fish jumping from the surface, making ripples that you can see from way up in the sky. The sight of your joy eases Cassian’s anger.
A gust of wind hits them hard enough to knock Az and Cass off balance. Without your added weight Cassian has no problem balancing himself out, controlling his wings on instinct.
Your scream has him pivoting against the gust, whipping his head in time to see Az lose balance as you tumble from his arms.
Azriel tries to dive but the wind fights against his wings. Cassian wastes no time to dive for you. Tucking his wings in as tight as he possibly can, he free falls with his hands reaching out for you.
You don’t stop screaming until Cassian grabs on to you, pulling you flush to his chest. You cling to Cassian, wrapping your arms tight around his neck.
“I got you,” he murmurs in your ear. “I got you, baby, it’s okay.”
Without looking back at Azriel he flys hard for the House. Cassian should check on his brother, he feels guilty not doing so. But the love of his life just tumbled from his brother's arms and he couldn’t care less if Az was in the Sidra right now or behind him.
Landing on the balcony closest to the bedrooms Cassian readjusts you in his hold. He can feel you trembling as he rushes to get you in a comfortable place.
Cassian kicks your door hard, rushing over to your bed. Gently placing you down he pulls away to see you staring off, a blank look on your face and teeth digging into your bottom lip.
He backs away to get you a change of clothes until you grip his arms tighter, letting out a small whimper. “Don’t,” you plead. Cassian wraps you in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on your back.
The two of you sit like that for a long, long time. Once your trembling stops you slightly lean away from Cassian, shaking out your arms and rolling your neck.
His heart breaks at the sight of fear still lingering in your eyes. Cassian slowly brings his hands up to gently cup your face, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re ok, you’re safe. That’s all that matters.” You nod, molding yourself into Cassian’s body.
“Thank you for catching me.” You whisper. Cassian squeezes you tighter to his chest. “I’ll always catch you, y/n. Always.” The fierceness in his tone sends a chill down your spine.
You won’t let Cassian leave you, even long after the sun sets. The only time Cass left was to get you dinner and to change into his pajamas. Once you’re asleep Cassian can’t find it in himself to leave you.
Tomorrow, he decided. Cassian will tell you everything tomorrow.
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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 3 days ago
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MONEY, MONEY, MONEY, MUST BE FUNNY IN A RICH MAN'S WORLD. ( HOTD X READER )
AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Stagehand! Reader prompt : Aegon falls in love with the stagehand of a jazz club. word count: 1, 000+ words
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Aegon had a silver spoon up his ass from birth. He got the best cars, the best drugs, the best clothing, the best food. He didn't understand that not everyone had trust funds or billions in their bank account. He never knew struggle, nor would be thanks to his family name. He was a Targaryen, a god amongst the 'common folk'. But, in the small jazz club on the edge of Flea Bottom, he was just another man.
The bartender's didn't care about him, forcing him to pay full price for drinks. The dancers, more than once, backhanded slapped him for trying to catch a feel. All because of you, the stagehand, and brains behind the club. You preferred the shadows, keeping things smooth behind the scenes, saving you from embarrassment should you fail in public. You keep your co-worker's safe, and they did the same for you.
It was honorable. He could not fault you for ordering them to stand up for themselves. Even in the more sinful way of life, they still deserved basic respect. It also didn't help that you looked stunning when cursing him out. The way your eyes hardened. The way you would rip him apart with words. The color insults.
'The cumshot his Mother should have swallowed..'
'The inbred brat..'
'The depressing little wet rat..'
'The guy named Egg'
There was something about you. He didn't know what exactly. It could been the way you cussed him out. Or it could have been the way your eyes light up when you controlled the jazz club. But, there was a part of you that made him want to kick his feet up and twirl his hair like a giddy school girl.
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Letting out a tipsy giggle as you snatch the glass of whiskey out of his hand, he leans against the bar table, a dopey grin on his face. He was not even close to being drunk, he’d barely even taken a sip of his whiskey. But, the look on your face was enough to make him feel drunk. You were so pretty. Your eyebrows furrowed, nose softly scrunched up, teeth gritted together, cheeks a flushed pink from anger.  Resting his chin on the palm of his hand, you were so pretty like this, all red faced and eyes full of hatred. He’d twirl his hair if it was long enough. Leaning a little closer on the bar table, he was practically standing on his tippy toes, eager to be close to you. 
“You come into my club, drunk, and think you can demand more to drink? There is no way that I am going to allow you to put my club at risk.” You snap back, shoving a water bottle into his hand. 
“You’re really pretty. Did you know that?” He giggles, “You’d even be prettier if you were to wear something designer, like some Chanel or some Vivienne Westwood. You should let me buy you some, sometime.”
“You're drunk.”  You scoff, shaking your head. 
“Pff! I am not drunk, well, drunk enough to not recognize that you're pretty when you're cursing me out. You’re, like, really pretty when you do it. But, I do think you’d be prettier if you did in something vintage.” He rambles on, the dopey grin on his face growing. 
“You’re drunk.” You state bluntly, rolling your eyes. 
"Again, with assuming that I am drunk."
Sitting back in his seat, he watches you pour out his whiskey into the sink, filling the cup with water. Unable to resist, he rolls his eyes hard a the sight of your routine. This happened almost every time, like clock work. He'd make a ass of himself, you'd assume he was drunk, pour out his drink and serve him water. It was oddly comforting. You cared, or at least it felt like you had cared for him. Even though a tiny part of him knew that you only cared for your club and the lawsuit that could happen. Still, he choose to believe that you cared for him.
"Let me..Let me take you out, just one date? We don't even need to kiss or hold hands." He attempts to negotiate, "I'll take you to the movies we can watch a nice film and just talk."
"I do not think that this is in your vocabulary." You scoff, placing the glass in front of him.
"And you know my vocabulary, now?" He scoffs back, mimicking your face playfully.
"I know people like you, your not that special or hard to read." You argues, "You pretend to be perfect just to get me to let you in my bed."
"One movie, that's it. No funny business."
"I do not like movies." You shake your head, making him scowl.
"Then we can go to the park and talk, there's a farmer's market." He tries again, "Get something to eat."
Watching you shake your head with a bitter chuckle, he cracks a smile, fingers drumming against the bar top. You may have been mocking him. Or maybe he was just high off the smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne that was thick in the club. But, just for a moment it all felt real. Like you cared, like you would consider it and accept.
"You're not giving up, are you?" You ask, lifting your gaze up to him.
"I will, if you ask me too."
"And..And if I want you to take me on a million dollar shopping spree?" You ask, the curiosity in your voice clear.
"I'd take you on a ten million one." He states without hesitation.
Watching you chew on your bottom lip, he waits, not daring to say another thing. He'd fear that if he say anything else it would made you rethink everything. That you'd call for security. Drumming his fingers on the bar top, you roll your eyes hard, making his heart sink. Cowering in his seat, he loose his confidence, his shoulders shagging. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tries to shrug it off, scoffing. He didn't care? Why would he? It wasn't that big of a deal.
"I get off in an hour, stay and wait or don't." You mumble walking away, "I don't care."
---
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scotchiegirl · 3 days ago
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# like yeah okay paralleling the two characters in a romantic relationship makes sense. but also this has nothing to do with shipping. #do u understand what im saying
(tags from @achromic-red-dreams-doze-angrily )
Yes absolutely! In fact I'd say that Nate and Eliot have the same parallel feeling and while I know some people ship them it isn't generally considered a romantic relationship at all. But the other interesting thing is the pairings that allow one of the characters to grow in our understanding of them not by what we see in contrast but by what we see of them in a vacuum.
For Parker, it's Sophie. Sophie allows Parker to be herself and then helps Parker understand who that is. And by listening to Parker talk, sometimes Sophie understands things better about herself. (The Grave Danger Job, The Very Big Bird Job)
For Hardison, it's Nate. Hardison is in a lot of ways being raised by Nate in a way the others aren't. Hardison's been more sheltered and so when he decides he's gonna try something new Nate provides him the protection to fail and see for himself that it doesn't work. (The Bank Shot Job, the Carnival Job, The Gold Job)
For Eliot, it's Hardison. Hardison genuinely wants to know about Eliot, but while he lacks the understanding of having the same type of character as Eliot (like Nate or Parker) he also lacks the concerned judgement that Sophie would bring to it. So Eliot can tell Hardison about his ex and his dad and feel (if not comfortable) at least safe in doing so. (The Wedding Job, The Low Low Price Job)
For Sophie, it's Eliot. He's different enough from her but similar enough to Nate to understand her in a way that she's not able to understand herself. And on top of that he isn't in love with her so he doesn't feel the need to know her the same way Nate does. But he does understand her enough to know what she isn't saying about herself and reassure her. (The Long Way Down Job, The Tap-Out Job)
For Nate, it's Parker. She listens to him when he doesn't think he's speaking and it's by her contrasts to Nate that we understand him and he understands himself. He trusts her judgement when he doesn't trust his own in a way that he doesn't with the others to the same degree, and he's proud when she fills his shoes even when he's not there. She understands him and through her understanding despite his not actually telling her anything, we understand him. (The Nigerian Job, The White Rabbit Job, The Broken Wing Job)
All of them have characters who are their black backdrop who they individually get to shine against as contrast, and I think that's just as beautiful as the paralleling too.
You know, I really really do enjoy how every time we learn something about Parker, we learn something about Hardison as well. Almost in response to learning something about Parker or like... like how learning about Hardison re-contextualizes what we've just learned about Parker.
Thinking about season 1 especially and The Stork Job, one of the first real vulnerable moments where Parker herself not only reaches out to the team but where she actually tells them something about herself. Tells Hardison about herself. She opens up about being an orphan, about being in foster care, and she expects him not to understand. And then he opens up about Nana and how she wasn't his grandmother but his foster mother. And it just softens Parker's story, not by downplaying it, but by giving her another angle to her rigid thinking. It is based solely on that conversation and her conscience that she does a 180 and goes back to fight for those kids.
Thinking about The Juror #6 Job too and how that went down and how Sophie may have been the one to point out that Parker had never reached out to the for help before, but Hardison was the one who got Nate to change his mind and indulge Parker. And he did it by opening up about his childhood, about being raised to be good with his words and charming and to know how to ask for things. And once again it re-contextualizes Parker. It shows what she grew up without and how hard this is for her not on a professional loner level but on a personal scared-little-girl level.
I'm sure there's more, and there's times when the opposite happens and we learn about Hardison through learning about Parker, but yeah. The brilliance of the writing to do it like that... wow.
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guppybibi · 4 hours ago
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Simon is a stealthy man, obviously—it's required for his job. Though the fact isn't quite true when it comes to proposals. You could clearly tell what he had in store for you the moment he coincidentally didn't have any work to do when the weather was just right and when he suggested that it was the perfect time of year to propose relax and go on vacation to anywhere you'd like.
Of course, you play along obliviously and decide to go to a tropical place that you've been eyeing for a while now. Simon wasn't complaining about your choice either, a chance to watch the sunset together and see you in a cute swimsuit? Sign him up!
So he books you two a tropical getaway, and insists that you should use his card to go shopping for a nice little dress, yeah? What's your ring size too, love? For future reference..nothing else.
~
The trip so far has been nothing but perfect, the plane surprisingly had enough leg space so Simon was comfortable the whole time. No turbulence either, it was like God was on Simon's side this time.
When you two arrive at your destination, the fresh breeze gladly greets you and the sun's heat is making beads of sweat form on your forehead already. It seemed like the heat had the same effect on Simon as well, although he was sweating more profusely than you for some reason..He'd never tell but he was insanely nervous right now, it felt like his guts were being turned inside out over and over again.
Everything does go smoothly, you two arrive at the hotel he reserved, quickly changing into your swimsuits since you couldn't wait to go out there and take a stroll around the beach. Maybe collect some seashells as a souvenir, build sandcastles or get a tan, do whatever you want, princess. Simon's going to be right beside you the whole time, glaring sharp daggers at anyone who even dares to look at you in the wrong way. Was it too much and completely unnecessary? Maybe, but you could never be too safe in these times. Creeps were always everywhere, casually walking around in broad daylight, hidden in plain sight.
Every single thing you wanted to do or get, was done and bought. You had to say, you were pretty surprised when Simon wasn't making any sarcastic comments about how he wasn't a money dispenser. Not even batting an eye when you got something from a clear tourist scam, weird. But hey, you're really in no place to complain here. Plus, money comes back, but the memories you and Simon will make here won't.
~
Hand in hand, step by step, you and Simon walk by the shore, your eyes full of adoration as you tried tracing the glow of the sun's light on Simon's face. You couldn't tell what was more breathtaking, the landscape or the man in front of you? The sun was bound to set soon, though it never really rests, you couldn't even imagine being the sun, working nonstop with no breaks is a big no no.
Quite ironic since in Simon's eyes, you were technically his sun. You were the center of his world, everything was peaceful when he was around you. Unlike when he's in the military, it always feels like he's out of orbit.
He has to do it, his heart can't contain it anymore. He has to propose, he's going to propose. Right here, right now. It was the perfect moment, the sunset peering, maybe a few folks watching but Simon couldn't give a damn about them. This was about you.
"Love," he calls out, stuffing his hand into his pocket to get the ring box. You snap back to reality, tilting your head in acknowledgement. You were taken aback by the sight of him kneeling on one knee, holding out a box with a shiny ring inside that you were barely able to hear the words, "Will you marry me?".
Without hesitation, you scream out "Yes!" at the top of your lungs, leaving Simon chuckling, still not getting up. "Wait up, luv. I prepared a message for you, mind if I tell you it first?" You were still jumping around the place, looking like you were about to bounce off to outer space. Once you manage to collect your excitement, you nodded, preparing yourself to hear Simon's message to you.
It was all about how you were the light of his life, all of that. It was short and sweet, not unnecessarily long but truly from the heart.
It's safe to say that the both of you went home from that trip with a big grin on your faces.
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levandright · 24 hours ago
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hii!! hope you’re taking requests rn (if not, feel free to hs delete this ask) <3
what about idol!heesung x idol!leader!reader?? js some fluffy winding down content where they both relax for a day together after finishing up their leader duties 😔
A Pause In The Chaos
pairing : idol!heesung x idol!reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : fluff, est relationship ୨ৎ word count : 793
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synopsis. after a long day of promotions, all you want is to rest with your beloved boyfriend. together, you escape into the quiet city night, finding peace beneath the stars and streetlights. lev notes : thank you for requesting <3 and oh my goshhh T-T this is so cute. hopefully i got your ask done well & you like it <3 finished this as soon as i could (pretty fast since i didn't have school when i wrote this)
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being an idol was rough. you loved it, sure, but that didn’t make the job any less demanding—especially as the leader of your group.
after a long day promoting your newest comeback, all you wanted was to unwind, free from any thoughts of work. just as you settle in, your phone lights up with a message. seeing heesung’s name instantly lifts your spirits; he’s been just as busy, caught up with preparations for the romance: untold - daydream repackage, and it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him in person.
“y/nnie, are you free today?” his message reads.
you quickly reply, smiling at the screen.
“yes :) we just wrapped up for the day!”
a response comes almost immediately.
“perfect! we just finished too.” “you up to just hang out? no plans—let’s just do whatever we feel like.”
you smile, already feeling lighter.
“i’d love that.” “great! i’ll pick you up by the usual spot near your dorm ;)”
chuckling, you slip into comfortable clothes, pulling on a beanie and mask to stay low-key. in the living room, a few members lounge around chatting.
“y/n! heading out?” one of them asks, noticing you by the door.
“yeah, hanging with hee,” you nod, pulling on your shoes.
“be safe and have fun!” they call out, hoping your time together remains undisturbed by fans.
“will do,” you say with a grin, slipping out through the quieter exit.
as you approach a convenience store near your usual meeting spot, you catch sight of heesung’s familiar figure waiting for you. you break into a jog, grinning beneath your mask as you close the distance. noticing you, he chuckles and opens his arms wide, waiting.
you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest.
“i missed you so much,” you whisper, nuzzling closer.
he strokes your hair softly, a gentle hum of agreement. “i missed you too.” tilting your face up, he pulls down his mask just enough to place a tender kiss on your forehead. for a moment, everything feels right, the world reduced to the warmth you both share in each other’s arms.
heesung’s arms linger around you, both of you savoring the embrace. when you finally pull apart, he gives you one of his trademark smiles, the kind that makes you feel as though the world outside has faded into soft blur. with your fingers laced together, the two of you start strolling down the quiet city streets.
as you walk, the weight of the day’s stresses begins to lift, and conversation flows easily. you laugh, sharing funny moments from promotions, and he listens, hanging onto every word as though he hasn’t seen you in years. he shares his own stories, recounting funny moments in his practice sessions and the odd ways his members keep each other awake during long nights.
eventually, you make your way to a park. the swings creak softly in the night air, empty and inviting, lit by a nearby street lamp that bathes the area in a warm, golden glow. you both settle onto the swings and you kick off the ground, letting yourself drift back and forth. heesung does the same, the swing creaking in sync with yours. you exchange glances, both smiling feeling like kids again.
you talk about how much you missed each other and share how demanding everything has been, yet neither of you ever really wanted to trade it for anything else. there’s a bond, a mutual understanding in your shared love for performing and your quiet wish for more time together.
after a while, heesung suddenly stands. “stay here. i’ll be back in just a second, okay?” you watch him walk away with curiosity, but you keep swinging, letting the cool night air wash over you.
moments later, he returns with two corndogs and your favorite drink. he holds them out, grinning. “fuel for us hardworking idols,” he jokes, and you laugh, taking one of the corndogs.
the two of you munch on the food, quietly content in each other's company. there's no need for words. you simply enjoy the simple, comforting act of just being together, with the occasional nudge of his shoulder against yours. after finishing the food, you look up at the stars. heesung follows your gaze, his hand reaching for yours again.
“it’s nice, isn’t it?” he murmurs, glancing at you as you gaze at the sky. you nod, leaning your head on his shoulder.
under the soft light of the stars and streetlamp, with heesung by your side, everything feels peaceful and right. you breathe deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, letting yourself truly rest—knowing that even in the chaos of your world, you have this pocket of quiet with him.
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perm taglist.@honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!) requests. open!
©levandright
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reidmania · 1 day ago
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sharpest tool | s.reid
(chapter ten, spoiling me)
‘If I ask you for space you write seven-page letters. I used to think that meant I couldn't do better, you blow up at me then you pay for my dinner. I used to think that meant I wound up the winner. But front after front I was taught to forgive, you bought me to rot on the shelves of your fridge and you keep me around 'til you're hungry enough but my face has gone grey, There is mold in my gut’
summary; reader isn’t sure how to feel or how to react when she finds out the truth behind spencer’s sudden absence.
warnings; mentions of death, insecurity, female reader, avoidant reader, angst, first part in italics is a flash back, talks about hotch losing haley, no real details about that case, arguing, no closure.
taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules @ameerakane20 @lucere @cultish-corner @psyches-reid
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“Tell me something true.”
Your head turned at the sound of Spencer’s voice, a small smile across your features. Your house was warm, cosy and decorated in a way that only could be described as you. You knew Spencer was just glad to me here, it had taken a while for you to let him in the presence of your home. You always deemed someones home the most personal thing about them.
You had been recently questioning where home was.
Sure, your house provided you with comfort after a long day, you craved the warmth of your bed when your feet ached, you could hide in the walls that weren’t alive, they let you bury yourself in emotion to difficult to articulate. You liked that. Your house, there was never any pressure to be anything other than you.
So what were you to do when Spencer made you feel the same way?
You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought over his question. Pushing your back up against the cushions of the sofa, heels of your feet digging in beneath you as you turned your body to face him, the documentary playing on the tv now long forgotten as your gaze met his.
He was wrapped tightly in a cotton sweater, you were sure in a few days the same sweater would be lost in your wardrobe. He never minded when you borrowed his clothes, deeming they were softer, more comfortable than your own. It was becoming more difficult to ignore the feeling in your chest that bloomed everytime he was around.
“True?” You repeated, furrowing your eyebrows. It was an out of the blue statement, he nodded in response, as he nudged himself closer to you on the couch. You tilted your head a little, “What do you mean, i’ve never told you anything untrue.” You said.
He rolled his eyes, you didn’t have to question why. You both knew deep down what he meant by his question. He was asking you to let him in. You thought letting him into your house was doing just that. Maybe he cared more about knowing your mind.
“You don’t talk. Like- about yourself, about your childhood, or your work, or how high school was- So, tell me something true.” He explained, even though he knew you already understood what he meant. If you needed the verbal clarification, he would give it.
You smiled. He wasn’t wrong and you weren’t embarrassed nor ashamed about your privacy. He would argue you couldn’t call it privacy if you were avoiding talking about it, then it crossed over to secrets. You didn’t mind having secrets either. But you liked Spencer, more than you were willing to admit and the fact he was providing you with the same sort of safe feeling your house did, well it made it easier to be open. To talk about the difficult things.
“What do you want to know?” You asked.
“Why you won’t go out with me.”
You let out a breathy laugh and rolled your eyes. He didn’t seem phased by your reaction to his want, nor surprised. You should’ve expected that to be what he wanted to know, apparently the response you gave the first 23 times he asked wasn’t good enough, maybe because he knew it wasn’t true just as much as you did. “i already told you, I just don’t want a relationship.”
“But why?”
You shrugged, was there an answer to his question, of course. But there was a line you drew in confessing and dumping your past on people, and that conversation would fall over the line, the very thick, very defined line. Unfortunately Spencer’s presence in your life began to blur many lines, ones that seemed once so clear, now smudged. You had yet to decide whether that was a good or a bad thing. It wasn’t just the trauma dumping line blurring, it was every one. It was all of them.
Everything you thought you knew began to shift, your perspectives changed on things when he shared his opinion, your mind was opener, you were more comfortable. You were happier. Maybe not because of him, or because he provided you with more happiness than your life originally had. You were content with your life before meeting Spencer, but there was something nice about having a friend.
“Theres always.. I..” you faltered, shifting uncomfortably, your legs untucking from under you to instead pull to your chest as your arms tangled around your shins, chin resting on your knees. “I’ve always, kind of felt like i was just existing, never really living. I noticed that a while ago, so i decided that if i was going to have to exist, id at least do it peacefully.”
“Relationships aren’t peaceful for you?” He tilted his head, it wasn’t an accusation the way he said it, it was genuine curiosity.
“They haven’t been.” You answered with a shrug. Wishing not to recall your last relationship.
Spencer shuffled closer. His arm’s folding over his chest as he pushed his back further into the couch cushions. He was staring at you, eyes flicking over your features. You were smart enough to realise he was profiling you, trying to see if you were uncomfortable, trying to read you.
“You’re profiling me.” You hummed. He didn’t hesitate in nodding.
“You’re hard to read.” He said, turning his body slightly to better face you. If you knew anything about profiling, or psychology you’d assume he was more uncomfortable than you were talking about this, or maybe he was simply just nervous. “I’ve never really had much trouble in reading people. I can’t read you.”
You tilted your head, you half took it as a compliment. Dedicating so much of your time to making sure nobody really knew you, dedicating so much of your time to wondering if you even knew who you were, to hear that time pay off, well it made you feel a little better about the hole you had dug yourself into all those years ago, the one that seemed a little bit too deep to get out of.
“Does that bother you?” You asked simply. Wondering if much like many others, he would give up trying to figure you out, you’d be slightly disappointed if he did, but not entirely. You simply didn’t want to be figured out. You didn’t want to be read, or profiled, you wanted to stay as you were, even if the look in Spencer’s eyes was convinced of otherwise.
He shrugged, “Not really.” The goofy smile on his face appeared moments after, “I like puzzles.”
You didn’t know whether to be amused or unsettled by his dedication.
“Your turn, tell me something true.” You changed the topic, hoping that maybe the curious look in his gaze would disappear if he had a moment to forget why he was so set on learning every thing about you.
He grinned widely as he rested his head against the couch cushion, looking at you. “I really like you.” He said simply. You hated the way your cheeks rose of colour, you hated that his words made your skin feel a little tight around your bones. You hated that you couldn’t tell whether the feeling swirling in your stomach was a bad gut feeling, or butterflies.
You shook your head anyways, “You have told me that a million times. Pick a different true.”
“But thats the truest I have.” He sounded offended. Not by your lack of response, he knew what you’d say, yet he never failed to remind you that he did in-fact, really like you.
“Spence, pick a different one.”
He huffed, faux frustration over his features as he leant his head back to think for a moment, his eyes travelling the lengths of the ceiling in your home, memorising it. You watched the side of his face, eyes travelling over the curve of his nose and jawline, before he turned his head to look at you, a almost sweet smile on his face.
You didn’t like the way it made you feel.
“One of my biggest fears is losing someone because of my work, someone getting involved or being at harm because of me, thats why i don’t date- really.” He said, the smile on his face remained as he looked at you, but the words that left his lips made your heart frown. You shuffled a little closer, not even realising you were doing it.
“But you have asked me out a thousand times.” You countered, not because you didn’t believe the fear of his, but out of curiosity.
“Yeah well.. I guess we both have fears in relationships, right? I guess i just think its not worth worrying about those things until they might actually happen. Like- you’re worried you’ll get hurt again, I’m worried my job will hurt you, but they aren’t problems right now. You know?”
You smiled, rolling your eyes and shaking your head before leaning into his side. Choosing not to reply.
You slumped against the wooden headboard of his bed, you tried to keep your focus on the small worn out indents over the wood, the detailing, you tried to figure out what wood it was, not that you had enough knowledge on wood to make that decision, you tried your best anyways. You could assume it was red oak, expect it was too dark, maybe it was painted with a wood stain, or maybe it was a different type of wood. Walnut, it could be walnut, that was a darker sort of wood, you were pretty sure, but the marbling texture told you otherwise. Maybe rustic brown maple.
Maybe you were just going insane.
The silence in the room was deafening and the more time went on the more you were convinced that you were purely wasting your time. After Spencer had convinced you to stay for his explanation, you found yourself back on his bed, he sat on the edge of it, watching you as you studied the headboard, the one you had seen a hundred times, or more, yet never gave much thought to. You were waiting for him to say something, anything other than the same apology you had heard repeatedly.
“Do you remember when I left for the case?” Was the first thing he said. It came out timid, careful, his words caused you to stiffen slightly, your shoulders growing tense with the weight of the memory. Of course you remember, it was physically impossible for you to forget.
You didn’t look away from the headboard, now almost dedicated to figuring out what wood it was made out of. You let out a hum, letting him know you were listening, letting him know you did in fact remember the day he left for the case. You remembered driving around for twenty minutes extra while he was taking you home because he was dedicated to finding you basic frosted sugar cookies.
He shifted, you felt the bed dip further as he added more of his weight to it. The closer he got the heavier the air seemed, your body tense with not only all of the memories, the conversation, but also the fact that you were still half foggy from your previous orgasm, you were uncomfortable, despite the fact Spencer made you clean yourself up before having this conversation, because he cared about your health and hygiene even if you wouldn’t let him take care of you after.
He cleared his throat, maybe he was feeling the tension just as much as you were. “I spent every spare second I had texting or calling you for the first few days.” He clarified, expect you knew this, he did this on every case he went on. You didn’t question that he once cared, you believed that, but you questioned what changed.
“Then you stopped.” You mumbled, not breaking your gaze on the headboard, head tilted up so your eyes to travel the detailing of it.
Spencer nodded, “Then I stopped.” He confirmed quietly.
You werent completely sure where to go from there, what to say, what not to say. You didn’t want to plead for an answer why, again. The process seemed repetitive, exhausting. This time you didn’t have to ask.
“A little while ago, Hotch, you know Hotch. He lost his wife.” Spencer spoke, you watched as his fingers dwindled absentmindedly. Your gaze no longer focused on the wood texture or type, now taken by what he was saying, how it related. The same confusing feeling in your stomach that you still hadn’t learnt how to differentiate between a bad gut feeling and a bundle of butterflies.
“Oh.”
Bad response. You knew that. But you didn’t have a lot to say. You didn’t know how someone was supposed to react to something like that, you didn’t know how Spencer expected you to react.
Spencer shuffled so he was better facing you, “I- uh. I won’t go into detail, but it was because of our work.” He muttered, his voice strained and heavy with indication you failed to recognise, or better yet understand.
You were quiet for a while, he let you be. Your eyes never meeting his because this conversation seemed heavier than you expected it to. When you spoke your voice was heavy with emotion, unintentionally so, “Spencer.” A breathy reminder that you were here for a reason.
He knew, he shuffled. You realised how much he was moving around, now nervous he was. Almost as nervous as you. “The case- When I stopped- When i ghosted you, there was an empty threat made against the team by an unsub.” He didn’t want to admit it, you could tell by the strain in his voice and the way his eyes no longer begged yours to meet them.
“Oh.”
“I guess i realised how much danger I was putting you into.” He huffed out. Leaning back against the headboard. The headboard that moments ago you had been studying like it was the most interesting thing in the world, now you couldn’t imagine focusing on anything other than the weight of his confession.
The sweetest reason maybe, for your safety. He removed himself from your life for the sake of your life. Maybe it was an act of love, maybe it proved how much he cared for you. You weren’t sure how to understand what he was telling you, you had a million questions lodged in your throat. All that seemed impossible to get out.
Maybe it was the sweetest intention, but he was immature with the way he went about it. He left like you didn’t matter, like you weren’t worth an explanation.
“You didn’t think to just tell me that?” Was what you said in response, it came out harsh, full of offence. You were offended.
“You would’ve tried to convince me otherwise.”
“Thats a lousy excuse and you know it.” It came out rough, you were sitting up at facing him and every part of you screamed to get the hell out of there and never see him again, yet something kept you sitting. Maybe the hurt you felt, maybe the anger. You weren’t sure, and you didn’t think you cared.
He sighed, “I didn’t want to lose you.”
“Yeah- Right. And how’d that work out for you?” You spat back.
He shuffled uncomfortably before meeting your eyes. “You are alive.”
“I was at no immediate risk.”
“But you could be! Thats what you aren’t understanding— That wasn’t the first time its crossed my mind. If something happened to you, it would be on me. If you got hurt, it was on me. If you got killed, it would be on me. Not only that — but I’d lose you, your friends would lose you, your family would lose you. I value your life more than I value how i feel about you. Im sorry thats not what you want to hear but its true.”
You shut up after that for a moment. How could you argue when his mind seemed so made up. Did you even want to convince him otherwise? It wasn’t like you hadn’t considered the possibility of being in danger before, but the fear always seemed so insignificant compared to the way he made you feel. How were you supposed to argue against him.
“You deserve better.” He said, moving off his bed.
How could you argue with what you knew was true?
You huffed, “Why would you not just talk to me about this Spencer? Why would you make this decision for me? Why are you telling me what risks i am and am not willing to take?” You weren’t sure you wanted an answer. You weren’t sure of anything anymore.
He looked at you, and you swore there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something so gentle and familiar. “A relationship with me is not worth your life.” He stated.
You wanted to yell at tell him that wasn’t his decision to make, that he couldn’t decide this for you. That he was being a coward. A few months ago you would’ve. A few months ago you would’ve done anything for him, you would’ve sat there and reassured him, changed his mind.
Now you weren’t sure.
You moved off his bed like he had moments prior, the room was heavy with an uncomfortable amount of silence. Tension. Unspoken words on both ends. There was still a million things left to say, yet you no longer wanted to stick around to hear them.
“Yeah, Im beginning to see that.”
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persicipen · 22 hours ago
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after the rain ノ neuvillette
ৎ୭ — · · 0.9k ノ gn reader — fluffy hurt to comfort . insecure neuvi ノ subtle hugs and kisses . comforting him after the rain ノ slightly rewritten old fic <3
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The world outside, glistening from the dew on the ground, seems to mirror the turmoil within the Chief Justice of Fontaine, now curled on the sofa right next to you, his silhouette not as powerful and admirable as usual. His eyes — sharp and perceptive in the courtroom — are now veiled by a shroud of doubt. Their typical iridescence now dull, forgotten pearls in the cracks of the rocky shore, roughened by sand and salty waves, depleted of its shine.
He finds himself troubled by the complexities of his own heart and the dimmed shades of morality.
The weight of expectations, the ones he dispensed with an unyielding hand, has taken its toll. As you observe him in this hushed ambience, it’s as if you’ve been granted access to a hidden chapter of his life, a glimpse behind the curtain of his public persona.
The low sun of the afternoon paints rainbows in the myriad little raindrops that cling to the windowpane like scattered jewels; each droplet captures a fragment of light, forming a dazzling mosaic of colours, their wet traces meandering down the glass surface. The sky is slowly turning orange and pink, gaining its healthy blush after the downpour, the dark clouds lazily gliding away beyond the horizon. The bloom reflects in Neuvillette’s amethyst eyes, a sight so breathtakingly beautiful and hurtful you can’t pull your gaze away.
He was crying. Again.
You caress his cheek gently, fingers seeking to soothe the damp imprints left by his tears. It’s a delicate touch, a gesture of empathy in front of his unspoken pain.
“You’re more than enough, Neuvillette.” You whisper softly.
He shudders, his breath uneven, and you take a closer look at his eyes — the pearlescent blue in them so mesmerising, still gorgeous despite the saddened gaze.
Neuvillette glances back at you, his expression softening for a little while, but as quickly as it appeared, the tenderness retreats, once again veiled by the weight of sorrow that grips his heart.
“I don’t deserve any of the respect the whole Fontaine is offering me…” His voice is barely above a whisper, still interrupted with muted sobs. “Perhaps I truly don’t understand them.”
“Don’t say that, Neuvillette.” Your voice is almost pleading as you look at him, trying to convey as much care as you can give to him to get the message through without hurting him when he’s so vulnerable right before you.
“I don’t feel anything. I’m just…” he trails off, looking away, as if ashamed to finish the sentence.
You brush your thumb over his cheek, wiping his dried tears away, and his eyes flutter shut under the long lashes; he finally allows himself to enjoy the feeling of your gentle touch, soothing his soul slowly with each passing moment.
It’s almost heartbreaking to see him like this. He carries himself in public with such strict elegance that it wouldn’t sound too far-fetched to assume some might see it as arrogance, yet it was nothing but a shield to hide his doubts and inner loneliness.
The confidence was not false per se, but similar to those ornated masks worn at the annual masquerade ball. You know it must have been very difficult to confess.
“Think how many people are grateful for what you’ve been doing to Fontaine for all these years.” You lean in and plant a soft kiss on his temple, his body relaxing against yours, curling closer into a hug; despite his height and broad shoulders, he feels right now like a lost little creature searching for a safe place to rest and to feel loved, and you wish you could protect him forever. “You keep their lives forever just and safe, because they know they can always turn to you and find the truth.”
He sighs heavily into the crook of your neck, warm breath against your skin, trying his best to calm down. You keep petting his hair gently, fingers intertwined with silver locks affectionately.
“Please never leave my side,” he murmurs against your neck, and it feels like the most intimate moment, just you and him, and the only thing you can do is press another gentle kiss on the top of his head.
“I won’t. Ever.” You say, and there is nothing more important to him than your promise, his heart melting warmly in his chest.
You both cuddle on the velvet cushions of the sofa, the setting sun casting long, warm shadows across the spacious room. The air still smells of the freshly brewed tea and the passing rain, the sound of distant birds singing returning after the weather.
Neuvillette seems calmer now, relaxed in your arms. He is vulnerable during such moments, his eyes looking deep into your soul, bright irises absorbing every little detail of your features so he can hold your face in his memory. His hand finds yours, and you hold it tight, caressing the skin of his palm.
It feels nice to have this closeness, to be able to experience his loving gaze upon you without feeling uneasy or too self-conscious.
Your fingertips brush along the shape of his knuckles, tracing the hem of his sleeves, slightly crumpled after a weary day of work. He closes his eyes, relishing the touch of your hand, those little sensations like gentle breezes of tenderness slowly dissipating the doubts that were troubling his mind.
You watch him as his gaze shifts towards the window, taking in the beautiful colours of the evening. His expression is soft, a hint of a melancholic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He then snuggles closer to you once again and whispers into your ear the barely audible words full of devotion.
“I love you.”
A ribbon of trust spoken in the silk of his voice.
“And I love you, too.”
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clrasecretdiary · 15 hours ago
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Late night confessions | Spencer reid x Fem!Reader
only fluff allowed in this house
In which Spencer can't believe how oblivious you were.
Warnings: Pretty sure none!
Content: Love confessions, reader is oblivious, really cutesy, petnames (stuff like darling...)
--
It’s a Saturday night, and you’re getting ready to go out with your friends from the BAU. Somehow, you guys got lucky enough to have this day off and decided to go to a bar and have some fun. Hotch and Rossi both said they’re “too old” for this and decided to not go, which honestly left you relieved, you really did not want both your bosses to see you in the outfit you had planned for the night. Besides them, everyone was going, and you were excited to see the team outside of work – particularly excited to see a certain genius. 
You and Spencer are the kind of friends that everyone perceived as “suspiciously close” and everyone that didn’t know thought you guys were a couple. Actually, there was a bet amongst your friends as to how long it would take you two to actually get together.
At first, you and Spencer found it uncomfortable and got awkward every time they made a joke about you two being together, but after some time, you guys started to join in a bit. Now, the irony of it all is, between all the flirty jokes, the way Spencer became so comfortable with you being clingy to him besides his germophobia and the way he cared so much about you…  You fell in love with him. 
Arriving at the bar, you spot your friends all sat at a booth and head over to them.
“Hey guys” 
“Hi sweetie, you look gorgeous” Garcia says, giving you a kiss on the cheek 
“Thanks darling, you look stunning too” You say, taking a seat between Spencer and Penelope. 
You talk to your friends, occasionally making eye contact with Spencer, who has been blushing ever since you came into the bar. You had always found it cute how no matter how many dates he had, he still would get flustered around girls he found attractive. 
You spent the night dancing and gossiping with Penelope and Emily. Later, the group was starting to leave when you felt a hand on the small of your back, when you turn around you see Spencer standing there smiling at you
“Hi Spence, wanna dance with me?” You say, putting your hands around his neck and smiling back, voice coming out a bit dragged
“Not now darling” He said, softly laughing at the way you were, not that usually you were super uptight but at this moment you seemed so relaxed and carefree he loved seeing you like that “Did you drive here?”
“Nop, but don't worry, I'll take a cab back home” 
“There's no way I'm letting you take a cab alone this late at night. C'mon, let's say goodbye to everyone and I'll take you home” 
You roll your eyes at him, but the way he was being so protective over you made your heart flutter. You thought about contesting him, something about you being a “scary FBI agent” but you knew he was right and decided to just go with it. 
You say your goodbyes to the rest of the group and go on with him to the parking lot. On the way to the car, Spencer is holding you by your waist to prevent you from stumbling, you're fully aware that you don't need it, you didn't even drink any alcohol, still you let him do it because there's no way you would ever shy away from being this close to him.  
Back at your house, Spencer goes with you in the elevator, stopping at your apartment's door 
“Alright, here you are, safe and sound” He says, smiling at you 
“Thanks Spence” You reach out to give him a hug, and it lingers for more time than it normally does
All you wanted to do right now was kiss him. 
“Do you want to come in? I'm not sleepy at all, and I would feel guilty with you driving alone this late at night, we can make some tea and talk maybe”
“I don't know, you really should rest…” Just as he began reclining your offer, you gave him the look you knew he would never say no to “Alright, I'll come in” 
“What's going on in that pretty brain of yours Spence” You say, leaning on the counter top 
You smile at him as you walk into your apartment, getting rid of your shoes and stepping into the kitchen. Spencer sits in one of the stools near the counter top and watches as you start to make tea. He watches every move you make, as if memorizing it, and maybe it's all in your head, and maybe you're just seeing what you want to see, but he has this look in his eyes, different from before.
“Not much” He smiles, and it feels like the world stops for a moment. 
 “Now that's a surprise, when have you ever not thought about everything all at once” 
“You tend to have that effect on me” His gaze lingers on you, as if he was trying to tell you something. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. 
“What's that supposed to mean” You think you might know, but there's no way he reciprocates your feelings… right? 
“You know exactly what i mean, there's no way you're that oblivious” He smirks at you, and god you think you might pass out right then and there. 
“If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you, Spencer” 
He laughs and stands up, getting close to you "Alright, what i mean is when i'm close to you, that's all I can think about… You. I've been in love with you for… honestly, I don't even know how long anymore” He takes a step closer, placing a hand on your waist and his voice drops to a whisper “I've made it pretty obvious too, maybe you took the ‘don't profile each other’ too serious. How did you not notice?” 
You're shocked, you can't even process your thoughts right now. Your best friend, whom you've been in love with for years, just confessed to you. You did notice his change in behavior towards you, you just didn't believe he could ever be in love with you 
“I noticed you treated me different, but I thought it was just…” You lose your words when he reaches out and cups your jaw, you look into his eyes, and you can see the love in them, and it makes you feel something inside. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and all you can do is take a deep breath and lean into his hand, feeling your heart flutter. You give him a small nod and close your eyes as he gently presses his lips against yours, and at that moment, you know that this is real. 
 He gently pulls you into his arms and kisses you on the forehead as he whispers “I love you” 
“I love you more” You say, looking up, smiling at him.
“Impossible” He says, smiling back at you.
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sugurouge · 18 hours ago
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— yes, my lady : sebastian michaelis x f!reader
content warnings! reader is a descendant of the phantomhive family, power imbalance (master/servant) but also (human/demon), somewhat monsterfucking if you squint (i wanted to make use of his ‘true form’ a little), smut, size difference, manhandling, praise, pet names (my lady, darling, dear), orgasm control, sacrilege, a tiny bit of blood, topics of loneliness
summary: after another tiresome day out in the world, you are greeted with your recent mistake—sebastian. a hand-me-down from your ancestors that you summoned by chance and who now apparently has a contract with you. yet this modern world, working women, independence, and your awfully bratty attitude are challenges that are entirely new to him. however, he did swear to serve you. so, allow him to take care of his tired "mistress"
wordcount: 5k | my kinktober masterlist
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It’s not every day that your job becomes stressful enough to fully tire you out. But today, today was even more draining than you had anticipated. Deep red eyes watch your tired form from across the hallway, raking over your figure as the owner remains quiet. Sebastian hasn't quite understood the fulfilment behind humans working themselves to the bone, nor the desire for young women to eagerly venture out to conquer “corporate,” as you once called it.
Yet, understanding or not, he is sworn to serve you and look after you. You are in his care until the contract is completed.
For this, he steps forward, his touch as sultry and gentle as his voice that welcomes you home. “My Lady,” the demon begins, as strength returns to your figure upon the stabilising hold of his hands on the small of your back while you remove your heels. You meet his smile with a glare from your pretty eyes, still wary of your newly added décor.
“I can handle myself just fine, Sebastian.” Yes, you’re a feisty one. Sebastian has been well aware of that fact since the moment you met. You dislike men staring at you in the street, loathe the forced small talk with them at work, or having to humour one of them when all you want is to be in the safety and comfort of your home. The once safe haven you now share with some sort of butler, or so he proclaimed. Never would you have expected such an outcome from your family’s antiques.
But here you are, the independent woman from before, now with a handsome devil at your beck and call. “You appear particularly exhausted tonight. Why not let me take care of you and help you to a restful night?” Sebastian proposes with gentle calmness to your vervour as his hands return to rest behind his back.
He irritates you. His act of concern for you when all he truly cares for is your soul. The motive is clear, yet he play-pretends to be something you cannot wrap your head around. “And what could you do for me?” you challenge in return, crossing your arms in front of your chest as the tip of your nose lifts a little higher to meet Sebastian’s gaze. “Anything you wish,” replies the butler, without a hint of malice in his words. “I would propose running a hot bath, brewing a warm cup of tea, and—” he pauses, clearly having caught himself with an idea you would despise.
The proposal sounds pleasing, almost exactly what you would do if you weren’t feeling too lazy to run a bath for yourself. But he doesn't need to know that. Your expression remains unfaltering, almost challenging. “And what? Speak, Sebastian.” The quirk of your brow ticks Sebastian off in just the right way, your confidence and demand a challenge he secretly enjoys.
The distance between your bodies grows smaller, and a gloved hand tips your chin up as red hues draw near. “A massage for your exhausted figure, my Lady.” He drawls the title, a pinch of condescension hidden in his words. You can’t resist the idea of standing on your toes, leaning further into his space to see him shrink away as your lips almost brush Sebastian’s while you speak: “Carry me, Sebastian.”
Yet, he does not shy away. He feels your pulse quicken, hears your heart drumming a beat of bravery, while your sweet lips could offer a relief he hasn’t felt in millennia. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth upon your demand and, without hesitation, you find yourself in his embrace. Knees and shoulders pressed firmly against his body, Sebastian carries you to your bedroom.
He knows tonight won’t be easy on him. Sebastian is well aware of the mischief you try to conceal, to seem more mature than you actually are. But tonight you appear different; tonight, you bring new challenges to your rendezvous once your head finds its rest on his shoulder. The tease of your breath against his neck, your smaller fingers playing with his necktie as you wet your lips. Nothing good comes from those pretty lips, Sebastian notes.
“Sebastian?” How can you suddenly say his name so softly? He looks down to you, the crimson tinge to his eyes making him appear like a starved hunter under the faint lights of the streetlamps and mood lights in your apartment. “The water is already set and at the perfect temperature for the female body.” Of course, he had heard your footsteps from afar and decided that tonight would be perfect for a bath. He is an expert at planning, at being one step ahead of everyone else. That is, until you continue speaking. A simple command, short and to the point, too alluring: “Undress me.”
You need to try harder if you wish to get a rise from him. For now, you find yourself seated on your bathroom counter with a newly found frown adorning your face. It doesn’t suit you, but it entertains Sebastian. “Your wish is my command,” he speaks an octave lower, honey almost dripping from his words before skilled fingers smooth out the fabric of your blouse. Sebastian’s gaze does not meet yours while he unbuttons it; he stays focused on the task without lusting over your exposed skin.
Suddenly, you wish he would want to devour you. The gloved touch that teases your upper body is not enough, yet so close to the fulfilling feeling of desire that you miss.
The clothing item is pushed off your shoulders before his touch ghosts along your waist. “May I continue?” The question is accompanied by one hand held out to you, palm facing up for you to grasp and rise to your feet. In one swift move, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror as Sebastian spins you around to undo the intricate buttons of your skirt you had struggled with this morning—why must designers place them in such difficult spots?
To nobody’s surprise, they are undone as quickly as your blouse, before your silk dress follows suit and pools around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but a tantalising set of underwear—dark red, almost a perfect match to Sebastian’s eyes. You eyes meet through the mirror and you refuse to shy away. No, like the little vixen that you are, you lean forward just enough to expose yourself further to your demon as you pretend to busy yourself by wiping off your lipstick.
It feels humbling to witness his gaze remain unfaltering; Sebastian continues to look into your eyes rather than the places you want his greed to be. “I will prepare your tea now,” he states as business continues as usual before leaving you alone.
A sigh is all you allow yourself as your shoulders slump. You really tried to seduce him. At the thought, you find a smile tugging at your mouth, the lust to be desired something that has been missing for a while now in your life. You know work, you know how to overwork yourself, and you have no time for flings or meaningless encounters. That was when he entered the picture.
Upon Sebastian’s return, he finds you seated in the bathtub; You’ve made sure to keep your hair out of the water and expose your neck, for hungry eyes to appreciate the shein layer of damp on your skin. The plate beneath the teacup meets the ceramic of your bathtub as your widened—nearly pleading—eyes shoot up to challenge his. If only you had acted a second quicker, you would have caught him staring at your cleavage, barely covered by the water and foam.
“Is there anything else you may need?” Sebastian inquires. He hates to admit it, but tonight seems like a greater challenge than he anticipated. How the simple word “You” could weaken a demon of his calibre is something for future Sebastian to concern himself with. Present Sebastian relishes the desire tugging at his stomach, the way you stare at him so submissively. Until you continue speaking: “Massage me, my butler.”
You turn your back to him as he takes his place behind you on the edge of the bathtub. Would you still be so smug if he grabbed your cheeks between his fingertips? If he forced you to look deep into his eyes while coaxing the cutest sounds past your lips? How can you act this way when at night you hump your pillow and beg for more, something better? Yet in the daylight, you behave like a spoiled princess, and he only adds to that imaginary status of yours. How badly he would love to ruin it. One or two more slip-ups, and he might find a loophole in your contract and commands.
To your dismay, gloved hands meet the skin of your neck. “Take them off, Sebastian. Touch me fully.” Your words bounce off the bathroom tiles, and his reply of “Yes, my lady,” echoes back. Shivers elicit along your neck as his skin touches yours, and the strength behind Sebastian’s touch massages the knots and the sorrow from your shoulders.
The moment is sweet enough to let your eyes fall closed, your head resting against Sebastian’s thigh as you sigh a gentle moan of relief. The sound snaps Sebastian’s attention to your face. With your eyes closed, he allows himself a moment to admire your features. Even a demon can admit that some humans are indeed beautiful. Sometimes, that beauty doesn’t surpass their soul, but in your case, there is something so unique about you that captivates Sebastian’s attention and lust.
You catch him staring as your eyes flutter open, the position you find yourself in so vulnerable, with him leaning above you. “Naughty butler…” you tease, and Sebastian wants to wipe that cheeky smirk right off your face. “If you have so much time to stare at me, you might as well wash my body for me.” The disrespectful teasing, as if he were nothing more than a pet, reminds Sebastian of someone else, someone he couldn’t wait to devour many years ago. But what else could he do but make himself useful for now?
In a swift move, Sebastian shrugs off his jacket and pushes up the sleeves of his buttoned shirt before kneeling beside your bathtub. He appears disinterested again, putting on a perfect mask of nonchalance as he runs the washcloth along your shoulders and arms, warming your figure and letting rose-scented water wash the sorrows away.
Until you’ve had enough of this act. Until you grow overly confident as you lean into his proximity: Your fingers lace around Sebastian’s wrist like a personal handcuff, your eyes locking onto his. “Be more thorough, Sebastian. Wash away the filth.” You go as far as to help him run the cloth over your chest. The drag of his nails against your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine, and Sebastian watches you attentively, to witness your pupils dilate, the pink tip of your tongue darting out to wet your lips as your noses almost touch. He has never obeyed such a troublesome person before.
You start to bring out the worst in him—something that wants to teach you a lesson, something to remind you how different the roles could be if it weren't for this contract. The washcloth is pushed over your breasts and dips beneath the surface of the water to run along your stomach before being abandoned entirely as Sebastian’s fingers dip into the supple flesh of your thighs. Blunt nails drag along your inner thighs, and he loves to watch the shift in your demeanour; how you grow shy beneath his touch, your stare faltering as he draws dangerously close to your sacred area.
There is no bite to your bark as you cry out his name, your need for him too evident while you try to maintain a pretence. "S-Sebastian!" Finally, you act as your thighs press shut around his hand, panic ever so evident in your pretty eyes he can't stop the devilish smirk from spreading across his features. "My dear, don’t tell me you expect to play with fire and come out unharmed…"
The next moment, your back meets the cold stone as Sebastian races forward, hands placed left and right from your figure on the edge of the bathtub. The impact forces a puff of air to escape your lips as your eyes snap up to meet your butler’s dark pair, searching for a trace of humanity in those pools of crimson. "Behave…" you attempt to regain control, which is met with a chuckle. "I only follow your commands," he challenges as the cloth returns to clean your body. "You wanted me to be thorough, let me be thorough."
However, the lips that crash against the racing pulse in your neck have nothing to do with the command of cleaning your body. Sebastian acts upon his own selfish accord, upon the lust you’ve ignited by teetering too close to the dangerous territories of demonic desires.
And he makes you feel too good as he ravages you, suckling and nipping at your skin until you can't help but moan, your head falling back to offer him more space. You can't even think of a fitting command, the sweet words for him to "Don’t stop, please," a much more natural reaction as his palms cup your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples until you whimper ever so prettily.
"Who would have thought you could turn into such a sweet darling?" Sebastian teases with whispered words against the shell of your ear, the hum that follows so deep and low it has your stomach fluttering. Your fingers lace between his dark strands, effectively holding him in place as you return to being face-to-face with Sebastian. Shamelessly, you allow yourself to rake your eyes over his sharp features. You've never wanted anything more than him. But the thought evaporates upon the sharp sensation of nails against your waistline and hips, upon the pair of fingers pushing between your folds before rubbing against your clit.
Oh? How willingly you part your legs now, Sebastian muses.
"Is this thorough enough, my lady?" he mocks as his fingertips press against the opening of your pussy, your eager hole giving way slightly as he pushes past. He knows what he’s doing to you. He sees it in the crease of your brow, feels it as your hips buck against his touch. "More, Sebastian, I need more tonight." Like the greedy thing you are, you take it upon yourself to play with your breasts, yet the silent plea in your eyes tells your butler all you want is for him to take care of you.
“Oh dear,” he whispers gently, but smiles victoriously as your moans tumble from your trembling lips when two of his fingers push inside you. "Do you give yourself to me? Allow me full reign, hm?"
The idea sounds great, perfect, until you manage to flutter your heavy eyes open and see the devious apparition in front of you. Sebastian’s eyes are more slanted, set ablaze, deep pink hues now replacing his usual red, with lust overflowing past his thick lashes as pointed teeth hide behind his full lips. Giving yourself to a demon doesn’t seem like the best idea, but the fingers stimulating your gummy spot have you nodding regardless. How lucky you are that you need to use words under these circumstances.
“Darling, tell me,” Sebastian urges as his thrusts become harsher, uncaring for the water or your comfort as your tits bounce and your walls clamp so promisingly. “N-no, no, Sebastian! Just, ah—” you falter as you try your best to stay present, to keep control over this demon while he fingerfucks you. “Think, speak, quickly, little Lady,” he further pressures you. What he wouldn’t give to do with your body whatever he wants. “Just-, just tonight! Sebastian—” the way you moan his name makes you a sinner itself, it should send you to all seven hells as the echoes ring inside his mind. “Look after me, tonight,” you finally manage to cry out as your walls pull in desperate need. “Make me feel good,” your final demand.
But instead of sweet release, you feel the disappointing emptiness as he retracts his fingers, leaving you a heaving mess in your bathtub—only now do you notice how cold the water has turned. “You can ask more nicely than that, my dear.” There is little consideration to be spared for the length of your bath once a strong arm wraps around your waist. Sebastian wastes no time in having you seated on his lap, your wet form drenching his clothing as he spreads your legs over his thighs and presses you flush against his chest. “I will look after you until the day you die,” he whispers into your ear, and maybe if the words weren’t so true and less intimidating, you could consider them romantic.
You notice that Sebastian’s form has returned to fully human, with almost tender eyes meeting yours this time around, turning your desire mellow and seasoned with sweetness. “Kiss me, please.”
He follows suit as your lips crash together a moment later, his palms stabilising your back in his hold. “More…” you breathe. Your fingers reach out to guide one of his hands on your back, between the valley of your tits, down your stomach, until you ultimately buck your hips against his, seeking further friction in desperate need. He tightens his hold on your body, tugging gently at your frame as he leans forward to suck on your wet skin, leaving marks in his wake. A small grin tugs at his lips as a soft whimper escapes you. “What’s wrong?” The whispered question makes goosebumps spread over your skin as the chill of his breath battles with the warmth of your bathroom.
“Want to be ruined by you.” The words that fall past your lips seal your fate. “Please, make me feel good, Sebastian.” You sound so desperate, only a fool would resist. “Taint me,” you shamelessly sigh against his ear, “Let me feel you.”
“Taint you…” he murmurs, halting his movements momentarily to witness you grow impatient before one of his arms holds a firm grip around your waist, restricting your movements as you’re now fully pressed against his chest. “How much more does my little Lady want to be tainted?” His free hand ghosts along your puffy lips, your slick making the drag too easy, too appealing to not draw circles into your clit, only pulling back any time he feels you squirm on his lap. Your little cries are music to Sebastian’s ears. It’s so good, too good, the way his fingers move, almost as if he already knows all your weak spots. “Do you wish to experience bliss only I could give you, and ruin yourself for all eternity?” His questions urge you to wrap your arms around him, to hide your face in the gentle embrace of a monster, as though you’re trying to hide from judgement itself upon your immoral fantasies. “I wish for that, Sebastian.”
No further words are needed, not when your lips convey more as they meet Sebastian's. A kiss so fierce, he may steal the air from your lungs and drag you to hell himself. Teeth pull at your bottom lip unapologetically, his tongue meeting with your own, entwining with another until you taste him. Meanwhile, the familiar stretch of his fingers, accompanied by the filthy squelching of your arousal, threatens to overload your senses. The teasing returns as your lips part to allow Sebastian a front row seat to your desperate play, as his thumb presses into your clit. You really yearn for this orgasm, don’t you? Of course, you do, with how tightly you clench around his digits, pulsing as though you’re trying to keep him inside—as if he couldn’t offer you a much better alternative.
“Let go, my dear, you look so beautiful right now, I want to see you come undone for me.” Sebastian encourages, as his fingers expertly curl against your walls, each time pushing past the limits of what you’re able to take. So you let go, finally, allowing your eyes to shut as your fingers fist the fabric of his dress shirt. He’s never received praise in a prayer-like form, the sighing thank-yous tumbling free between your moans, so unlike the feisty thing you pretend to be. You are adorable. “Very good, my darling, just like that.” Sebastian whispers, as the movements slow down until his fingers still inside you, until the heaving of your chest and the trembling of your thighs calms, and you fall into his embrace.
But much to Sebastian's surprise, and despite his predictions about your exhaustion, you return his previous affections. Your lips kiss along his neck as you undo his necktie, fingertips already so eager to free him from the confines of his clothes, it makes Sebastian wonder who the real glutton between you two is. “My Lady,” he innocently halts your advances as he entwines his fingers with your own, kissing each tip while holding eye contact. “Shouldn’t we proceed to your chambers? I don’t wish to bring needless discomfort upon you—you need your strength to handle me.” At that, you feel his tongue drag along your pointer finger before a final kiss is placed on its tip, while a devious smile returns to Sebastian’s lips. If only you wouldn’t look so adorable each time he teases you. But you are already too far gone to keep up pretences, when you can instead allow someone else to finally be your resolve.
So it's only natural for you to command Sebastian once more. “Bring me to my bed,” you mumble while your arms already lace around his neck. He follows.
Yet it catches you by surprise once you’re simply dropped into your bouncy mattress and sea of pillows. However, in the next moment, you find yourself caged underneath Sebastian. Your hands roam free to undo his dress shirt and shrug it off his figure, allowing your nails to drag over his pearly skin until you reach his pants and finally feel what lies hidden behind the dark fabrics.
You seem in control, until firm hands spread your thighs and Sebastian leans in, to nibble along your inner legs, shining in the moonlight as he dives between your thighs to lap at your cunt, his tongue pushing past the tight ring of your entrance before dragging all over your hot and puffy pussy. He then licks and kisses his way up your stomach, sternum, and nipples, while the surprising satisfaction of his cock—hot, hard, and leaking with pre-cum—coats itself with your juices. He grinds against you until you writhe for more, until his hands find rest on the back of your knees so he can press your legs up against your sides, fully opening you to thrust into you without struggle, without restraint, as lust overcomes him.
You shake your head at the stretch of his girth welcoming your pussy, sweet pleas mixed with whiny complaints escaping your lips without much thought. “‘S too much, Sebastian… can’t…” you admit. The chuckle that follows is devious, before a soft sigh in satisfaction follows as tender lips place an adoring kiss to your cheek. “You will,” Sebastian whispers, followed by the command “Now just surrender to me.” His lips seek out your own once more as he picks up a relentless pace.
Your nails dig into his back, leaving red streaks that run deep. You can’t look at anything but him—his strong body on top of yours, the visible strain to his muscles while he ruts into you—until you find yourself once more captivated by his eyes. He almost looks at you lovingly, no hungrily. But Sebastian doesn't just want to consume your soul; no, his desires reach beyond basic greed. He wants to own you, to keep you to himself, to reign over you until your best years are over. You can see it clearly while swimming in crimson. But with the delicious drag of his cock inside your walls, you might just let him. Who would have expected you to be tamed this well by getting fucked?
“Please, please, please,” you exhale as your head lolls from side to side, writhing beneath your very own demon. Oh? You’re quick to beg. Quick to turn desperate, so eager to have more of something that should never have been yours. “Sebastian, Sebastian,” you repeat like a mantra as his hands hold your fragile body, digging into your hips to force you into a perfect arch for Sebastian to ravage your skin. He litters kisses over your chest, laps at your nipples, and drags your hips back down to snap against his while he is guided by gluttony.
“Give yourself to me,” you demand with no trace of shame in your bones, finally giving him a task worthy of your beautiful soul. “Stay with me, be mine…”
You almost feel dizzy with how easily Sebastian hoists you up until you’re on all fours, ass perfectly exposed for him to fully sheath his cock inside you, effectively pushing your upper body into your sea of pillows. But in stark contrast to his rather harsh handling of your body, his lips return to press soft kisses along your back. “I am yours if you are mine, my darling.” The words flow like honey before your blood coats Sebastian’s tongue as he breaks the skin, engraving himself on your skin.
Your fingers dig into the cushions, searching for support as you struggle. But the strong arm lacing around your body is all the comfort you will need from now on; his cold touch will soon set you ablaze.
Sebastian is deep inside you, the head of his cock finding your sweet spot almost naturally as he perfectly curves against your velvet walls, hips snapping against your arse cheeks with unforeseen fervour. His hands dig into your hips, surely bruising your hip bones for the coming days, but you’ve never felt this good before. Never so full, never as cared for as by the monster that is in love with your soul. You moan his name in delight, making Sebastian proud once you eagerly bounce back into his thrusts.
The husky sounds of pleasure grow clearer as his movements slow down. You feel yourself being further pushed against the mattress, to spread your legs to spread wider and arch deeper, for his penetration to slowly steal your sanity. Who would have expected the pressure of his palm against your stomach would make you clamp around him this much? Moaning, whimpering, pleading as you beg for mercy, trying to tell him it’s too… “Too good, Sebastian, I’m—”
His movements are slow but precise, accentuating the way you desperately clamp around him in an attempt to hold him inside you for eternity. “Yes, fall apart. Let go for me,” Sebastian’s eyes roam over your smaller body beneath him, a sweaty, shaking mess. He will take care of that right after you are done. For now, instead of worrying, his hands grab at your ass almost aggressively, spreading your lower lips even further as he ruts into you.
The high-pitched squeal that escapes your throat when he picks up his pace again serves as a perfect display of your misery. Tears prick at the sides of your eyes as your hips are pushed back to meet Sebastian’s relentless thrusts. “Make me proud, little Lady...” is his final demand, with sneaky fingers returning to play with your clit as he hoists you off the bed, holding you tightly against his chest.
You’re fully seated on his cock, entirely engulfed by his embrace and consumed by the same demon, just as you bask in the sweet release coursing through your veins. Sebastian allows himself to be lost in your pretty cries and the way your pussy practically drips from both of your orgasms. True to his nature, he watches you like a devil on your shoulder; dark red eyes witnessing your fucked-out expression with the cutest smile illuminates your features.
His lips caress your neck as he whispers, “Do you feel better now?” You hum and let your fingers card through his hair, a tired “I do. Thank you, Sebastian” exchanged from your mouth to his ear.
Swiftly, Sebastian moves to carry you back to your spacious bathtub and lets it refill with warmth. “How about my Lady actually relaxes this time around?”
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dividers by @/cafekitsune
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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 18 hours ago
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FANTASY
Based off of this! post.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: you surprise Eddie by dressing up as an elven princess from Dnd. Warnings: 18+ SMUT kissing, fingering, unprotected PIV (please be safe out there), oral (f receiving), body worshipping, teasing, a little nipple play, orgasm denial A/N: I have played Dnd once in my life, I do not know everything about it so please correct me if I get anything wrong about it.
Based on This! blurb
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Eddie sat up in bed re-reading the Lord of the rings The Two Towers for the millionth time as he waited for you to join him.
it was the first night of your honeymoon and it had been a long day and Eddie had done nothing but pepper you with love the whole day, being the gentleman he is and showed you exactly why you married him
you had been in the bathroom for quite some time, not that Eddie had seemed to notice, as he stuck his nose in a book he can't put down until you cleared your throat
he looked up to see you and his eyes widened as he got the sight of you leaning against the door frame with a seductive smile on your face
you were dressed in an elegant, fantasy-inspired gown in various shades of green, becoming darker as the skirt flows down, adorned with gold embroidery with a flowing chiffon cape that drapes over the shoulders.
your hair was down with a single braid tucked behind an elf ear you had placed on, and a golden headpiece atop your head.
you perfectly resembled an elven princess from Dungeons and Dragons, and he let his copy of TOTR fall from his hands and land on the floor by the bed
"Suilad ennas nin bein adan plural edain" you spoke, tilting your head mockingly as Eddie gulps and tries to find the words to say to you
He can already see it, your body on top of his, tangled in the sheets as you moan his name in pure bliss as he pleases you nicely.
the tent in his pants grew as he thought about what he would do to you.
you were the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on, and it was all for him, for his benefit and dick seemed to understand that as it rose in his pants, so hard it was uncomfortable and almost painful.
he needed to have you; he needed to ravish you right this second after ripping the dress off your body, he needed to fill you up so good that it would risk getting you pregnant, and he wouldn't mind, not if it meant he could think back to this night.
he wanted it so bad, and he could tell you knew that as you smiled cockily, taking small strides towards him on the bed, your leg peeking out of the high slit in the skirt of the dress.
he wanted to sink his teeth into your plush skin just hard enough to leave a mark, he wanted to tear the dress to shreds whilst still on your body, leaving you look a mess, though you'd still be as stunning as now, stood in front of him.
"Holy shit" he mumbled to himself as he shifted in his place, unable to find the words to express how good you look, how much he wanted to tear you apart and fuck you until your dumb
but just as he leaned up and tried to kiss you, you stopped him
you pulled out a pair of dice from inside the bodice and dropped them onto the bed sheets beside him
"if you want to kiss me, you're gonna have to roll" you smirked, seeing his whole body twitch in anticipation and need
he looked up at you, the fire in his eyes made you feel weak in the knees as he adjusted himself, rubbing over his boner to ease the growing pain of eagerness
he fumbled over picking up the dice. looking at you before rolling it onto the bed sheets
he mumbled in victory before pulling you down and bringing you into a passionate, much needed by him kiss.
you find a comfortable position as he placed you on his lap, his hand finding its way onto your thigh, gently rubbing your skin, sighing at the feeling of your lips dancing together
his hands moved up, following the curve of your hips up to the bodice of your dress, cupping your breasts in his hands, managing to give them a squeeze before you pulled away, humming
"What do you want to do next?" you asked him, crawling off on his lap
he frowns as he thinks "I want to...take off your dress?"
"Then roll" you whispered in his ear, smiling as he shivers
he picked up the dice and rolled it, praying to the gods he got over a ten, wanting nothing more for the dress to come off so he could worship your perfect body
he cursed to himself when it landed on a two, looking up at you with innocent eyes, making you fake a pout
"looks like that'll have to wait, big boy" biting your lip, internally laughing at his face, laced with disappointment
He frowns "can we continue kissing?" He blinks, looking down at your lips
You pretend to think for a moment, tapping your chin, humming "mm. Let's ask the dice"
He grabbed the dice from beside him and rolls, immediately grabbing your chin, pulling you down, you didn't even have time to see what he got before you melted into the kiss, he slides his right hand down your chin to your waist. Pulling you down onto the bed beside him.
You open your eyes, taking a sneak peak at the dice on the other side of his leg. Pushing him away
"Eddie! That was a miss! You don't get to kiss me!" You faux anger before dropping your voice, your fingers trailing his chest, right over the O in 'dio', your fingertips running over the letter
"Does someone need to be punished for lying?" You tut, leaning in and whispering in his ear
He lets out a whimper, secret be told- he likes seeing you have such power over him, he likes being told what to do- he finds it so attractive on you, seeing you in such a way is making him so hard that he's finding it hard to focus when your tits are right there, in front of him, calling out his name, begging to be sucked on so nicely.
He can already hear the sounds of your pretty moans as you let him fuck you. He can see it, your tits bouncing as he pounds into you mercifully, showing you his frustration for teasing him, for making him wait, for making him roll a pair of dice just so he can touch you.
Eddie shakes his head "n-no I- I'm sorry I won't do it again"
He knows your version of punishment in this situation won't end in an orgasm on his end- he won't even be getting teased- your punishment will be nothing, you'll sit there, letting him learn his lesson for lying to you, letting him know what he did and that he should regret it. So he would rather not get that punishment tonight
"Why shouldn't I?" You tilted your head, almost mocking him
"Please? I- I know what I did was wrong" he looked down
You drag your hand over his legs, pressing against the tent in his pants before moving on, reaching for the pair of dice before picking them up, ignoring his sigh as you touch him
"Let's see if the dice thinks I should forgive you"
You roll the dice and smile "looks like it's your lucky day"
You asked him what he wanted to do and he tried again with taking off your dress, rolling the dice.
He looked over at you with his big doe eyes and a smile, you leaned over him, making sure the roll was a hit.
You raised your eyebrows. Slowly rising from the bed before standing in front of him.
You reach for the zipper on the side on the dress, letting it fall down your body as you stand in front of him, leaving you in only the cape and a matching green lingerie set.
You were so perfect, so pretty, so fuckable.
He shifts on the bed, leaning closer to the edge
You go closer to him, climbing onto his lap, smirking at his desperate face as he stares at your breasts right in front of his eyes
You lean in, placing a kiss on his lips. He runs his hands along your back, his thumb going under the clasp on your bra as his other hand reaches up and unclosed the Cape, taking the mesh away from your soft skin.
Before he has a chance to unclasp your bra, you stop him, slapping his arm away
You tut again, forcing the dice in his hands
"You forget about my little friends?"
He groaned and rolled it, he's so hard he's co fused as to why you haven't said anything, like you usually do, teasing him about the way he gets turned on just for you
He unclipped your bra and threw it across the room
Your run your hand through his hair as you slowly grind on his lap, subtlety rolling your hips against him
"What next baby?" You bite your lip, holding the back of his neck as you lean in, nibbling on his ear, loving the way he shivers against your touch
"I- I want to touch you...them" he mumbled, sounding almost hungry as he stares at your bare tits in front of him
he rolled the dice and instantly attached his hands to your breasts, giving them a little squeeze, his ears perking up as he heard a gasp fall from your lips as he pinched your nipples. they were always so sensitive against his rough padded fingertips teasing them, and the noises you made as he pressed his thumbs against them were so pretty, so pretty that he might say it was his favourite noise, music to his ears, he's said before.
the buds of your nipple were hardened against the hotel room's cold air and he smiled to himself as he thought about taken them into his mouth, licking and sucking on them as you whimpered and moaned his name, he knows you wouldn't be happy, not rolling the dice before making a move but he couldn't hold it in anymore, the swell of your breasts looking so appetizing to the point Eddie's almost drooling.
So he brought your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he squeezed your other tit, smiling to himself as you whimpered when he bit down on the sensitive bud of your nipple
you mumble his name as you feel his hot tongue swirl over your breast, it feels so good that you don't have the power to stop him, you should give him this for being so good for you, and right now he's being so good.
he hums against your breast, still sucking and nibbling, now just moving to the left, sending vibrations through your body as your close your eyes, your hands finding his hair as he massages the soft skin of your chest.
you begin to grind on his lap, feeling his hard cock against your clothed heat, slowly growing wet, feeling the patch soaking your lace panties as you rub yourself against the rough fabric of his jeans.
"you're so beautiful" he mumbled as he pulled away for a moment before latching his mouth onto your neck, licking and sucking your sweet spot, being sure to leave his mark on you.
he nibbles on your collarbone as he hears a content sigh leave your lips before you find the strength the fight him, remembering the whole game of this
"who said you could do that?" you frown, glaring at him
he looks into your eyes with blown out eyes, looking like he's in a trance as he gaze lowers down to your plush lips.
in any other situation, he would have felt bad, he would have apologised and begged for forgiveness for going against you, but Eddie couldn't find it in himself to say sorry about it, cause he wasn't, why should he be sorry for wanting you underneath him, open for him as you moan his name
so he made the bold decision to ignore you, pressing a desperate kiss to your lips as he pushed you down on the bed, laying you flat on your back before pulling away
"I'll play your little game, but you're not in control here, doll"
before you could protest, he shoved two fingers in your mouth, making you hum in confusion
"Suck" he ordered as he picked up the dice, swearing under his breath before you giggled, gagging when he shoved his fingers deeper down your throat.
he went back to kissing your neck, sucking the places he hadn't only a few seconds prior. you had closed your eyes, relaxing on the bed as he began to use you, without your knowledge, Eddie had rolled the dice, trying again before taking his fingers out of your mouth
the string of spit connecting your lips and his fingertips before snapping when he pulled away too far, bringing his hand down your body, digging his hand into your lace panties, pressing his now soaked fingers to your clit, earning a gasp from you and you opened your eyes, seeing him shift down the bed, you feel his hot breath brush against your skin as his fingers hook around your underwear, pulling them down slowly, placing kisses down your body, gently biting at the skin of your hip as he removes your underwear, pulling them all the way down, flinging them across the room before planting wet, sloppy kisses over your lower stomach, rubbing the skin under your boob with his thumb as he rang his other hand back to your bare core, rubbing his fingers flat through your slick folds.
as you look down, lazily smiling at him loving on your naked body, you frown, noticing he has all his clothes on still.
"Eddie" you breathe, hearing his groan as he continues to pamper your body.
you reach down and pull at the collar of his shirt "take it off, baby"
"oh Elven Princess, Patience is a virtue" he tsks.
he chuckles under his breath as he begins slowly circling your clit, his fingertips gliding with delicious friction over the sensitive bud.
"this what you wanted, Princess?” he cooed, his voice mockingly sweet. You could feel his warm breath fan over you as he moved closer.
He couldn’t stop himself. he couldn't help but lean in and flick his tongue over it just once, just the slightest touch, and you let out a broken moan and wiggled under his touch.
He inhaled deeply, smelling your intoxicating scent.
he looked up from your pussy and made eye contact with him as you leaned on your shoulders, staring at him while he rubs over folds, not yet going in.
Eddie wrapped his plush lips around your clit and started to flick his tongue over the bud at a painfully slow pace.
You gasped and gripped the neat bedsheets. he always was good with his tongue.
His mouth was hot and wet, and the way he was looking at you with such love and lust, made the tightness inside of you start to grow in the pit of your stomach.
Eddie was in on cloud nine as he buried his face in your pussy, drinking your delicious and sweet taste.
With one hand on your hip, keeping you from wiggling around, he slid one of the fingers of his other hand into your throbbing entrance. Slowly, before adding another, not giving you any time to adjust before he carefully pumps.
He chuckled when you moaned at the feeling of him stretching you open.
you whined, gasping at painful stretch of your delicate skin he is currently abusing.
you squeezed his fingers so nicely, feeling every ridge and hearing every squelch as he curls his fingers inside you, his lips still attached to your aching clit, sucking harshly.
Soon the only sounds in the room were the wet clicks of your pussy, and your soft moans as you let your head fall onto the pillow beneath you, your eyes rolling back when he squeezed your hip
Eddie laid his tongue flat and wide as he lapped up your pussy and you couldn't help but whimper at the feeling.
Eddie’s cock throbbed in his tight jeans, so uncomfortable as he grinded against the mattress, trying to give himself the friction he so desperately needed as he ate your pussy so well for you
"Eddie.. I- mm...i'm gonna cum" you moaned sinfully
Eddie pulled away after humming, his fingers still pumping inside you, gaining speed to replace his tongue
"let's see if the dice wants you to, ay?" he growled, releasing your hip and grabbing the dice
"do you, dice, want this elven princess to cum f'me?" he asked the dice before rolling
you were in a trance, tightening your walls around his thick fingers as he pumped, too focused on trying to cum that you barely heard what your husband was saying, his voice sounding like a distant hum.
you let out a broken moan as you felt the tightness start to let go be tuts
"dice says no, sweetheart" he said, pulling away, making you whine and your whole body shiver as the tightness fades, leaving you frustrated
"what? no, please" you beg before looking beside you at the dice, frowning
"Eddie that was a hit?!" you huffed in slight anger
"was it? must've mistaken it- woah!" you said before you pushed him away, flipping him over so he's on his back
"you were never in power here, weakingling, the dice controls us" you glare at him
he stared up at you as you climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, you lean down to kiss him and just as your lips meet and he lean in, his eyes fluttering shut, you stop, tilting your head to the side, you grab his chin and point his head to the side as you bite his earlobe, steadying your breathing as your pull away, pulling him in for a kiss,
your press your lips against his before leaning away, biting his lip as you pull away, letting go to see his lips bounce back
"don't play with me, commoner. you don't know what i can do to you, what i will do if you play with me, so sit back and be a good boy for me, understand?" you question him fiercely
he nods his head as you pull his shirt over his head, taking it off befoe throwing it away, staring at his tattoos littering his body of show for you
you place your hands on his chest and lean down, playing a kiss on every tattoo on view, hearing his breath hitch when you place a delicate kiss to his newest addition you had only found out about a week after he got it, a few months ago, right below his right collarbone, over his heart was laced with a fine line ink, confirming the date on your wedding, it was so gentle, contrasting against every other tattoo on his body.
you had cursed at him for getting it, and he had questioned you for your hesitation, saying 'think we won't last? honey I'm planning on keeping you forever, js'wanted to have a bit of us on me forever'
it was crazy to think that was almost 6 months ago, you had been so stressed with planning and wanting every aspect to be perfect. and now, a day in to being married to him, your heart warming at the little touch of writing, a promise of commitment that he couldn't get rid of it he tried
Eddie's dick was still so hard, he could feel the precum staining his boxers until he was whining
you sucked on his skin, going up all the way to his neck, wanting nothing more to mark him. your hands find their way to his pants and fumble to undo his fly and push down his pants with the help of him, kicking the jeans off, the only thing keeping you from sitting on his pretty cock was his thin boxers.
you grind your hips on his, creating some sort on friction, you push him up so he would lean against the headboard, sitting up but still laying down.
his hands find your hips and guides your movements until you smack his arms away
"how dare you touch me without the permission of the dice" you spat
it gave you a rush, giving him orders and telling him off for things, you had done it before yes, but it always felt so good, giving you a thrill knowing it turned him on so good, he loved it, and he was never scared to show it
you gripped onto his hair and forced him to look into your eyes as he stares down at your tits bouncing
"You want these off, don't you?" you reach your hand down, snapping the elastic of his boxers on his skin as you pull them back
he gulps and hums out a response "uh-huh" he mumbled
"Beg for it" you howl, lowering your voice as you stare down at him
"Please take them off, I'll be good-" he starts before you cut him off
"don't beg me, beg the dice" you hold the dice in front of him
he sighed, looking down at the small shapes in your hand "please let her take my boxers off, I won't disobey you again" he pleaded
you roll the dice on his chest and grin wickedly
"Looks like the dice answered your calls" you huff before pushing them off his body, letting them roll to the side of him on the bed
you left yourself up and push his boxers down his legs, letting them fall off the side to the floor, you sit on his thighs just below his cock that sprung out, being let free from the aching pain of being stuck inside harsh fabric.
the precum leaking from his swollen tip is what sends you into a frenzy
"Such a pretty cock you got, commoner" you coo, reaching and slowly pressing your thumb to the head, chuckling at how it twitches in your hand
"Please, please I need you" he begged as he closes his eyes when you begin slowly pumping his dick
you pick up the dice shove them in your hand "roll"
he huffs and rolls the dice, moaning in victory
"You heard the dice, fuck me" he sighed, resting his head on the headboard
you roll your eyes and position yourself right above him
"Do not rush me, and do not command me, do you want to cum? you desperate human" you tut
you sink down on his cock and compress your whine when you let him fill your aching pussy
"Yes, yes I want to cum- I'm so sorry, princess, it won't happen again, I want to cum in you" he nods enthusiastically
you hum in satisfaction. you sit on his lap for a second, slowly rocking to get yourself adjusted before you slowly lift off and bounce back down
you place your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself
"c-can I touch you, princess?" he asked desperately
"I suppose" you huff, covering the fat you want his hands on you, helping you out to bounce on his dick, to give him pleasure
his hands find your hips yet again and you let him, loving the feeling of his rough fingertips against your skin
you rise and fall on his lap in a slow rhythm, slowly building pace as you feel more comfortable, the stretch of his big cock stuffing you nicely as he hits all the right spots, he's always reached the best of places, making you feel so full as he pounds into you
but being on top lets him reach so many more places
and before you know it, your pace is gradually getting faster and faster, your moans filling the sweaty air of the hotel room and he grunts, letting out small pleas and whines, whispering your name
he leans up, taking one of your tits in his mouth, biting at the sensitive bud of your nipple, hearing your gasp of pain but moan of pleasure.
you start rolling your hips in circular motions, trying so desperately to rub your clit against his pubic hair at the base of his cock.
he started the thrust up into you, matching your rhythm of pace, the sound of skin clapping together is all you can hear past his groans and your whimpers.
you focus on the feeling, letting your eyes roll and your head throw back as he reaches all the right places, he feels so good.
His hot wet tongue sucking and nibbling at your tit, and the harsh and rough feeling his hair feels grazing against your clit is aching.
Eddie releases your nipple with a pop! And leans up, digging his face in your neck, mumbling words of encouragement and praise into the shell of your ear.
Nothing can be heard but the squelching of his big cock thrusting into your pussy as you bounce up and down.
You pace has quickened and your moans are becoming breathless as you feel the tightness bubbling up in the pit of your stomach
Eddie groans as your walls tighten around him, squeezing him no nicely
Everything about this is driving him crazy, every moan escaping your plush lips, every slap of skin, every pornagraphic look on your face when he slams his dick so deep inside of you
God he fills you up so well, so well that you feel the pit inside of you grow.
Eddie can tell you are close just by the way you squeeze your dripping wet walls around him, coaxing him in your juices.
Eddie moans into the swell of your neck, biting on the soft skin
He leans away, his back leaning against the frame of the bed, one hand finding its way to the small of your back, just above your ass, eith the other remaining on your hip, gripping on to the sweaty skin and you pant and moan
Your hands find Eddie's chest again, your nails seeping into his skin, scratching his pecks. His thrusts are beginning to get sloppy and you know he's close
Eddie can't take his eyes away from you, he's so entranced by what you've done for him tonight, making the fantasy he didn't know he wanted needed come true.
You could feel his dick twitching inside of you and you smiled weakly
"Are you gonna cum f-for me?" You panted
He nods, not being able to speak as he watches your tits bounce with your movements, with your mouth hung open, letting out broken whines of pleasure
"Y-yes, p-princess" he winces "I-im gonna cum"
You smirk down at him "you reckon the dice will let you spill your seed into the elven princess?"
He whines, his climax about to reach breaking point, on the verge of spilling his load inside of you, painting your walls white.
You pick up the dice for the last time. Flicking them away, nor having the energy to roll, you glance beside you, looking at the numbers
"Cum f'me, Eddie" you let out, wanting his hot cum fill you up
You hold your climax in, wanting nothing more than to cum together.
"A-are you close?" He grunts, his palm flat against your back, pressing firmly as his other hand traces shapes around your hip.
You hum in response, not being able to hold it much longer as your thrusts grow tired "Please cum for me, Eddie"
He lets out a broken moan and mumbles intot the hot, sex filled air
"I'm gonna-"
You both moan in unison, each thrust and fall of your hips meeting in perfect harmony as you both let the tightness go.
Eddie hums as he spills his hot seed into you
And you let out a toe curling moan escape your lips as you cum on his dick, you juices mixing together, sticking to your thighs as it leaks out of your throbbing hole.
You hum, your climax fading away as you begin to go limp in his arm. He rides out your high as he pushes you closer to him, letting you lean on his chest.
After a moment, he's stopped moving, and you're left to catch your breath, listening to his rapid heartbeat as his chest rises and falls against your ear
"You're the best wife ever, you know that?" He sighs.
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57 notes · View notes
chelledoggo · 22 hours ago
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given the state of... things... i wanna really dissect the ending of episode 2 of TADC.
old news, yeah. but... i think the message of this scene hits harder in this time.
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obvious spoiler warning below the cut!!! (also religion CW since i share a Bible verse at the end.)
so by now you probably know the ending all too well.
Pomni made a new friend in Gummigoo, hoping to help him find a better life in the circus... only to watch him be unceremoniously blasted into confetti by the well-meaning but completely tactless Caine.
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and of course Pomni is understandably traumatized, going into absolute hysterics.
Caine, the oblivious godlike AI in charge of the show, believes he was just keeping things safe and in order, and shows no real empathy as he teleports himself out of the situation.
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Pomni just stands there. dissociating. confused. God only knows what thoughts are going through her mind right now.
the ever-nurturing Ragatha, who's made it her mission to make sure everyone else is as happy as possible, tries to step in and raise Pomni's spirits.
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of course, none of this is of any consolation to Pomni. like... how could it be? she watched her friend (presumably) die.
it's like those who believe in an afterlife watching someone die in front of them. even with that little bit of hope and comfort that you may one day see them again, that can't erase the horror you bore witness to.
Pomni stands there unresponsive. Ragatha feels helpless to comfort her.
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Zooble approaches, letting Ragatha know that they've finished preparations for Kaufmo's funeral...
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Ragatha turns to Pomni and extends an invitation.
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this is enough to bring Pomni out of her traumatized stupor.
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Ragatha explains the custom that the circus crew developed themselves. whenever a friend abstracts, they hold a "funeral" service to honor them.
now Pomni never knew Kaufmo. he abstracted just before Pomni entered the circus. they never had a chance to meet.
and yet Ragatha still invites Pomni to mourn him along with the rest of the humans.
Ragatha realizes that hopeful platitudes won't really do anything at this time. so instead she opens to her new friend a safe space to grieve.
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Pomni accepts the invitation. she stands before the "casket" of a perfect stranger, unsure of what to think.
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Ragatha takes her place next to the casket, allowing herself the rare opportunity to express vulnerability around the people she usually puts on a brave face for.
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Pomni watches and listens as each of these people she'd only met yesterday share their eulogies for Kaufmo.
they share their experiences. their happy moments with their abstracted friend. and, most importantly, they share their grief and anguish.
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Pomni obviously can't relate to any of these stories of Kaufmo. she never knew him.
but that's not the point.
the point is that she's witnessing the camaraderie of the humans in a way she never could before.
she's witnessing them in a vulnerable moment where they can break their goofy facades. and, more importantly, she's witnessing just how deeply these people love and care for each other.
brotherhood doesn't always take the form of trying to fix everyone's pain and cheer each other up. sometimes brotherhood is simply allowing those you care for to feel their feelings without judgement, and to hurt along with them.
and that's when it hits Pomni for the first time.
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she's Not Alone
i think this scene hits harder after... recent events.
it's okay to feel the way you feel right now. it's okay to be anxious, scared, angry. it's okay, for right now, to feel... hopeless.
hope will come eventually. but oftentimes grief has to come first.
and that's okay. it's in the moments of communal despair that the seeds of hope are planted.
times of fear and suffering are inevitable. a perfectly happy outcome can't always be guaranteed. but comfort exists even in grief.
so take your time.
hope has no deadline. rest assured that it WILL come eventually, but don't rush or force it.
rest.
feel your feelings.
find those who can lament with you.
find those who need you to lament with them.
we should let ourselves hurt together today. and then we can hope together tomorrow.
"Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep." - Romans 12:15 (NRSVUE)
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bougiebutchbinch · 22 hours ago
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I’m back to talk about transfemme Wade (who I think would refuse to go by Wanda bc “we already have one of them, don’t wanna confuse the fans!”) but in an embarrassing amount of thought so anon-
I feel like she has so many wigs that sit along the wall of their room, one for every occasion (Logan talked her out of getting a massive Miku length one bc she would never take care of it Well enough-), her favorite is the Barbie of just a cute blonde ponytail that sometimes she’d clip colorful strips into. Sometimes she showers wearing a wig for the Euphoria of her bf being pissed there’s a bunch of plastic in the drain- she goes through so many phases of what style she likes, their living room was full of amazon boxes at some point and Logan was ‘forced’ to sit through a fashion show and give his opinions, and while he doesn’t know the difference between Lolita (THE STYLE THE STYLE!!!!) and Harijuku, all he knows is his girl is beaming and rambling a mile a minute and he can’t make himself veto any outfit she shows off. Unfortunately his real favorite look of hers involves the same t shirts and boxers she wore before coming out, no makeup, no wig, face mushed into his chest and just Content as can be. He doesn’t care about her putting on a big effort to look femme (though will always lovingly praise looks so the RSD doesn’t trigger), as long as she’s happy and safe, he’s so lucky to have her 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 anyways I go ESPLODE NOW thinking of my self ship with her-
WAILS AND RUBS MY FACE ALL OVER THIS LIKE A HAPPY CAT
AWHHHHHHH
she is everything to me. EVERYTHINGGGGG
[UNDER A CUT for discussions of bottom dysphoria - as well as related self-inflicted violence, but in a Poolverine way where violence is consensual and sexy and fun for everyone involved!]
I need her to be happy and to find joy and to have a million wigs and for Logan to love her just as much with them as without them, while bitching something rotten while he pulls the gross wads of plastic faux-hair out the drain
I need her to drape herself over Logan's lap like a happy housecat only Logan's the one who starts (embarrassedly) purring as he strokes her because he's so delighted and comfortable in his life right now~ And Wade is just being VIBRATED by the very loud proof of her boyfriend's love of her.... And she is smiling the GOOFIEST grin while Logan turns bright red!
I need her to turn to Logan after a long day of murder and they start pulling voraciously at each other's clothes - only Logan freezes STARSTRUCK because. Damn. And Wade's kinda confused and a bit self conscious, but tries to hide it under jokes until Logan says in this gruff, choked voice - "You look so fucking good in red" and she looks down to see where she's pulling off her costume and she's just fucking covered in this glossy red satin dress of her own blood ❤️
(And Logan maybe buys her a long red evening dress that she's probably never gonna have occasion to wear, but he's flushing so much when he presents it that he almost matches the colour, and he wants to see her in it so bad, and whenever Wade wears it around the house just casually, she gets picked up and fucked against the nearest wall lmao)
I need Logan dipping her effortlessly in a kiss, and she feels so fucking weightless in his arms ❤️
I need them baking together before Laura comes around and they both keep burning shit but they're laughing and having a good time and there's a smudge of flour on Wade's nose and Logan is imploding internally over how cute she is
I also need her to casually say to Logan one day when the Bottom Dysphoria is particularly bad, 'hey can you chop off my dick while fucking me and then just keep chopping it off whenever it tries to grow back??' and Logan is like 'what the fuck babe' and 'I have a vague sense that I shouldn't enable this' and 'babe are you fucking sure' and Wade is like 'yeah I get off on pain and that would make me very very happy, plus it will do no lasting damage <3' and Logan is like 'OOKAY I GUESS' and then they have fun horrific bloody mutilation sex that would look absolutely awful to anyone else but is actually very tender and affirming and cute
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ashthewaterghoul · 1 day ago
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’Cause It Still Makes My Blood Run Cold To Remember What I Did Before - A Banana!Verse One Shot
In the pits, Fire Ghouls were nothing if not warriors; their worth was found in defending and protecting what they held dear while fighting the threat head-on. The latter part may not be possible right now, but if Alpha could keep them all safe, shield them from the torment they’d all been subject to, he would take the looming darkness and become it. His flames were strong enough to stay burning in the dark fog he consumed, yet it just killed him a little more every time he did it. Taking him apart stitch-by-stitch and unravelling him from his very soul outwards. As time went on, he had to wonder when that last stitch would rip open, and he dread to think what the result would be. Or, Alpha has a lot of feelings after mating with Dew, and having to be oh-so-cruel to him to keep him safe from Sister's torment.
Words: 2.6k
Relationships: Alpha/Dew, mentioned Air/Earth and Terzo/Omega
Tags: Angst, feels, nightmares, self-hatred, self-worth issues, mating bond, Alpha needs therapy, suicide by drowning shown in a dream sequence, suicidal thoughts, Alpha is an asshole, but he gets better kinda, one shot, era ii Ghouls wear veils.
Inspired by @anotherbananasong 's amazing universe! I'm like 99% sure this can be read if you're not familiar but obviously I'm going to recommend her blog!!
Title from 'Missing Limbs' by Sleep Token
~~~
    Dew shot upright in a cold sweat that instantly evaporated away against his warm skin. His breathing was frantic, his heart beating from his chest and for the life of him couldn’t focus enough to feel the electricity thrumming along the bond that tied him to Alpha.
    Alpha himself was in his room deep down in the catacombs. It wasn’t the deepest as that belonged to Lake’s subterranean lair, but it was still deep. Alpha too, was deep but in his own mind. His own loathing for himself.
Read below the cut or on ao3
    Alpha did initially detest himself for ruining Dew’s life by mating with him - for desecrating something as precious as the little Fire Ghoul with the sheer and utter monstrosity that was his existence. Yet there was something so tempting and alluring about Dew’s flames dancing in his own soul that made him want to swallow his pride and just be a good mate, asshole-façade be damned.
    But that façade would have to stay for a little while. That Satan-forsaken summons to Sister’s office that would damn him and his mate to years of pain that burned deeper than any flame ever could.
    “If you even go near this mate-”
    “I’m not scared of you, you old hag.”
    “Oh, but you should be, Ghoul. He’s highly unstable right now. No one would question if he didn’t pull through.”
    “If you hurt him��”
    “Secondo and Terzo aren’t here to protect you anymore. Test me, if you’d like.”
    And while Alpha would usually see that and indeed test someone, something about the liveliness bouncing across the bond in his soul made him realise he could never let Sister hurt Dew again. The forced transformation and killing their Papas were more than enough…
    So instead, Alpha would hurt Dew. Bold displays of neglect and disinterest so there was no fuel to add to Sister’s bonfire of tyranny. He’d do everything he could to make sure Dew never fell for him, to push him away, to keep him safe.
    The long nights Alpha would spend sobbing for what he puts Dew through were only mildly comforted by the fact that he was keeping Dew safe. That’s what a good mate did, right? They kept the other safe. So, in a perverse way, Alpha was being a good mate. But then, for a second, he would acknowledge the bond that bound him to Dew and his entire being would be wracked with the desolation and misery that Alpha left the little one in. The biting words, the harsh treatment, the shunning and dismissal and cruelty that Alpha would inflict in what was his best effort to keep Dew safe.
    It worked, and he hated himself for it.
    He translated it onto the rest of his pack too. He’d rip into River for being a cry-baby, he’d contribute to Air’s status as a walking mattress, and poke at Earth for choosing such a used-up Ghoul for his mate. He’d jab at the suffocating void of grief Omega was left in following the brutal demise of Terzo, his favourite Papa and paramour, and Lake... Well, Lake wasn’t really around enough for Alpha to cause much damage which, deep down, he let himself be thankful for.
    In the pits, Fire Ghouls were nothing if not warriors; their worth was found in defending and protecting what they held dear while fighting the threat head-on. The latter part may not be possible right now, but if Alpha could keep them all safe, shield them from the torment they’d all been subject to, he would take the looming darkness and become it. His flames were strong enough to stay burning in the dark fog he consumed, yet it just killed him a little more every time he did it. Taking him apart stitch-by-stitch and unravelling him from his very soul outwards. As time went on, he had to wonder when that last stitch would rip open, and he dread to think what the result would be.
    When Earth beat him up as a “lesson” he just laid back and took it. He knew he deserved it. And he wanted it to be a lesson, he wanted to listen and be able to love Dew. But he couldn’t. Not without risking the little firefly he was trying so hard to protect. Ripping himself apart to keep Dew safe, that was all that mattered. And it certainly mattered more than any silly little feelings Alpha had.
    When news had reached the Ancients that Sister had died, Earth and Air cried in relief that maybe the cruelty the Clergy had subjected them to under her rule could finally end. Alpha took a while before he realised the same could be for him and Dew.
    From that point, he counted down the days until the little one had returned from tour. When he could feel the bond was less stretched with distance, and that Dew was home, he actually found himself smiling for the first time in… years, he realises.
    Out of a habit he knows shouldn’t need to exist anymore, he sneaks from the catacombs in the middle of the night, and up to Dew’s room. Dew had stood in his doorway, vape in hand and looking completely annoyed by Alpha’s mere presence.
    “Alpha, if you’re here to hatefuck, then I’m really not in the mo-”
    But Dew is cut off by the most gentle, yet somehow most passionate kiss Alpha had ever given him. More gentle than their night together before Dew’s last tour with Terzo, or even the night they mated.
    Alpha pulled back and both Fire Ghouls had tears in their eyes.
    It took all of about two seconds before Dew pulled Alpha down by his veil and kissed him again. And Alpha did his best to make up for lost time. He was so gentle and tender with Dew; hailing him like a deity and worshipping him like one too. Treating him so preciously and delicately and with every ounce of love and care his body could muster. Words were never his strong suit, only when they were laced with his Fire and venom, so he said everything with his body instead.
    The moment that Alpha silently opened up his side of the bond completely, for the first time ever in the years it had been there, and Dew could finally feel the outpouring of love and affection that Alpha had been holding for him this whole time, they both cried. The sheer relief on their souls from their bond not painfully weighing them down anymore made their hearts feel so full and their souls whole. Alpha’s eyes may have been misted over with tears, but he’d never forget the look on Dew’s face. He even took his veil off, and Dew cried even more. One smaller hand instantly went up into the larger Ghoul’s dark hair and he pulled him back down to kiss him, desperately holding onto him.
    Alpha’s only words were a repeat of what he hoped Dew had always known is true, “You are so loved.”
    And this time he dared to add, “And by no one more than me.”
    But it wasn’t all smooth sailing from that point. Alpha didn’t know how to be a good mate. He was a shit stain on the universe, and he deserved to be nowhere near Dew. Even the deepest pits of Hell were too kind for him. He found himself slipping into old habits of lashing out, and pushing Dew away, refusing to let such a bright spark drown himself out with Alpha’s atrocious presence.
    Often, Alpha contemplated walking down to Lake’s domain and asking him to take him to rest in the depths. He knows Lake would do it, and even if he didn’t, Alpha would throw himself down and let himself be taken by the current.
    He thought there would be a certain beautiful irony that he would die surrounded by his beloved’s true element, taken from him too soon and too violently. Dew felt his Water be eviscerated by flames, Alpha would feel his Fire suffocated by Water and leaving Dew’s to burn alone by himself. Maybe that would leave a nicer life for the little one.
    But as Dew fell asleep alone one night, that was exactly what he saw. He saw his mate as he was now; confused and scared and not knowing what to do in a whirlpool of distress and loathing - hating himself for how he’s treated his mate and pushing Dew away still. Dew saw him get up, and go down to see Lake.
    “I can’t.” Alpha said, “Take me, please. I can’t live knowing what I’ve done to him.”
    And Lake obliges. He stays completely unglamoured, fins and webbings out so he can have more power in the water. Alpha remains glamoured for the opposite reason. He wants to be weak, because he has been all along. He doesn’t deserve to be strong now, at the end when he wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Sister in the first place. Dew is the one that’s strong, not him. The little light there is down there fades as Alpha’s dragged deeper and deeper down, and his veil comes off and floats up to the surface. Alpha tries to reach for it, because it’s the same colour as Dew’s eyes. But Lake swims and pushes him down faster and faster and Alpha knows he doesn’t deserve that comfort either.
    As Alpha’s lungs burn for oxygen, his chest spasms for relief, all he can think off is the panic and confusion he feels from Dew as he races down to the catacombs, only for Lake to later present him with his mate’s lone veil. And Alpha dares to ask Dew to forgive him before his last ember dies out.
    As Dew woke, he felt as though it was real. That he’d just somehow witnessed his mate’s death through his unconscious. His mind was in such a state of panic that he couldn’t focus enough on the bond that told him Alpha was indeed still alive.
    Dew didn’t bother to put anything on his feet as he raced out of his room in only his boxers and one of Alpha’s t-shirts that was more like a dress on him. He needed to see Alpha. Whether it was him or his body or veil, he had to see him.
    He thinks his runs and sobs and shouts for his mate may have woken up Astra but he’d apologise to Air and Earth later. Alpha’s door was open and the Ghoul himself was part-way out before Dew’s heart could scream anymore.
    “Dew? What’s wrong?” Alpha asked, having felt Dew’s frenzy and sadness bleed down the bond.
    “D- don’t l- l- leave me!” Dew wheezed as he held onto Alpha for dear life, his sprint down to the catacombs combining with his panic leaving him entirely unable to breathe.
    “I’m never leaving you again, little one.” Alpha promised as he held Dew, lifting him up so they could lay in his nest.
    Dew couldn’t stop crying or get his breathing back under control and Alpha was at a loss. He remembered how he saw Earth snuggling into Air once, apparently it helps his anxiety. So, despite the size difference that would be comical in any other situation, Alpha wrapped his arms around Dew’s waist and laid on top of him, with his head on his abdomen and put his weight down so he acted as an assuring and grounding presence. It worked as Dew’s sobs quietened, and his breathing slowed to something more normal. Dew found himself fidgeting with Alpha’s hair and horns also, a mindless habit he didn’t even realise he was doing until he was back in his own body.
    As Dew calmed down and explained his nightmare, Alpha’s fiery blood managed to run cold.
    “It felt s- so real.” Dew whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek to join the rest, voice still shaking with adrenaline and emotions.
    Alpha swallowed thickly, “It wasn’t, I promise, firefly.”
    “Don’t l- let it be real, ever. Please, Alfie?” Dew asked him with big wet eyes.
    Alpha raised himself up from his living-weighted-blanket position and looked straight into Dew’s eyes, a large calloused palm resting on Dew’s cheek.
    “I won’t let it be real.” Alpha affirmed.
    “I have y- you now, and I don’t want t- to lose you, ever. Th- the bond, and having you, I- I never want to go without it again.” The little one said. And he was so painfully little as he curled up against Alpha’s chest, a pointed ear over his heartbeat and a hand over his pec to feel his warm body and steady breathing.
    When Dew’s adrenaline and post-breakdown-exhaustion caught up with him and took him back to sleep in Alpha’ arms, the larger Ghoul just hated himself more.
    For it being something he so often thought about, dare he say fantasised about, and now seeing how it just being a nightmare to Dew hurt him so much, he only despised himself more for thinking he could ever leave Dew in that much pain.
    Once he had promised that he would never make for a good mate, so he would never even try. Now, he doesn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive himself for all the hurt he caused.
    Dew is the lighthouse in the storm that is Alpha’s self-hatred. Originally, he wanted to hate Dew. For making him feel noticed, for choosing him, for luring him in like the Syren he used to be. Then he wanted to hate Dew for giving him life again, a reason to live, for being the tinder for the dying embers of his soul. Dew became the reason Alpha’s flames could burn so so bright, but then he had to repay it by stamping out Dew’s own.
    Dew had mentioned to Air he almost feels as though he’s Water again. Because he is just the most powerful tidal wave of love for his mate that he never lets up on, and he uses it to slowly corrode away the behemoth of a wall that Alpha’s put up.
    And Dew is so happy now. His flames have been burning brighter than ever as they happily danced alongside Alpha’s. Alpha doesn’t think he could ever bring himself to hurt Dew again, which he knows is a good thing. But Dew forgave him so easily, even without knowing the threat of Sister’s cruelty was the reason behind it all, and Alpha knows it would kill him if he ever betrayed Dew again. Yet now he’s seen how Dew reacts to even just a mirage of his deserving demise; how could he ever even think about putting Dew through the real thing?
    Alpha had desecrated his gift from Lucifer too many times, defiled his pure and beautiful soul with his horrid treatment. He wanted so badly to make up for it, yet he found himself completely unworthy. Despite the long and arduous process of healing they’d both go through, Alpha knows there is always going to be a very loud and obnoxious part of his mind that will always make him hate himself. And while Dew would be there to constantly adore and reassure Alpha - being the tsunami of love to drown anything else out - Alpha would often find himself listening to that obstinate part. Spiralling to the voice of unreason that told him to shut Dew out again because he truly didn’t deserve such a gorgeous little firefly to be his.
    Alpha couldn’t decide what was worse. Dew finding someone who was actually worthy of him, or giving in and loving his mate in every way he deserves and more.
One shot master post can be found here!
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