#<- honestly just reassuring myself it's been too long

[pankomako]

as much as i would love to one day do some kind of content collaboration with boat, i feel like a lot of it would end up sounding like just two of the same guy talking to each other with slightly different voices except one is smarter and one is dumber. because ive noticed we have a LOT of the same mannerisms, some of which i probably picked up from him, and we think kind of similarly as well. so like. how would that even go

[seyaryminamoto]

I'm gonna join the little crowd of canon Zuko dislikers who believe he becomes a lot more likeable character in Gladiator. He's not scarcely developed like he is in canon. I can notice how he grows from his anger issues that could lead to dangerous outbursts into someone who knows how to keep calm and in control. From self-centered to considerate of others. From entitled to responsible. From having a confused moral compass that depends greatly on Iroh to a man who knows how to make his own decisions enough to even call Iroh out on his mistakes (removing Iroh from Zuko's growth journey was something that greatly benefited him since Iroh burdening Zuko with expectations and plans for his life, with Zuko simply shifting from following a parental figure to another, at least according to my reading of canon).

Most Zuko stories I read are either focused on milking extra sympathy for him or washing the flaws down the drain into awkward turtleduck, and both of these narratives are cringeworthy, with the comics doing him no favors either but doubling down on these flaws.

So his characterizations in Gladiator was a breath of fresh air. That one line when Guru Pathik told him "He damaged your willingness to open yourself to others… to let someone else look after you, out of fear of being vulnerable, I expect." was moving and even relatable.

Ah, damn, thank you very much for saying so! You know all too well that I have plenty of gripes with Zuko's canon writing, so I'm really glad that you feel this way about my portrayal of him in Gladiator... I have to say, I think a lot of my issues with canon Zuko became clearer precisely because I was writing him from scratch in this story. I struggled to understand many things about him back when I watched the show, without my full awareness initially, and I genuinely realized what those things were once I started writing him in Gladiator.

My inability to grasp Zuko properly is one of the reasons why I chose to rewrite Zuko's entire journey. Not only did it make sense to do so in this setting, but the truth is that I hoped it would help me get a better handle of his character: I'd written post-canon content already and the one character I wasn't sure I was writing correctly was Zuko. People would tell me that I shouldn't write him being so moody anymore, that he had become more mature, that he had become basically a perfectly decent person, that he would be a better brother to Azula than how I depicted him, and that I had to work on that. I'd hear all that criticism and then I'd take a look at canon Zuko... and I'd wonder if I was missing episodes or something, since there were many instances, post-redemption, where Zuko made displays of many flaws (be it his temper, be it his narrow mind, be it selfishness, you name it) that a lot of people were constantly pretending he had relinquished completely as soon as he joined the Gaang.

So... it became clear that I just couldn't write him the way they wanted me to X'D it wasn't natural for me, the character they were asking me to write didn't feel like Zuko to me at all, and I honestly didn't understand why right away. And so, as Gladiator's idea crystallized, I realized I'd have a clear shot at writing Zuko's character arc from scratch, I'd get to develop him on my terms, and I'd be the one to decide which traits and flaws he'd preserve throughout his growth process. Doing this helped in a lot of ways, of course, as in changing his journey, I started to realize just what were the elements of his canon storyline that I wasn't 100% pleased with.

Even from the start, I've had readers who felt very sorry for Gladiator's Zuko (especially because Mai married someone else when he was hoping she would have been waiting for him) since he definitely was starting out in a very bad place and a lot of people were immediately emotionally attached to him because they already were in canon. Still, I think part of why he resonated with readers in a different way than canon Zuko was that the challenges I was giving him were different from the ones canon did. For one thing, I let him go home without having captured the Avatar: he knew that he wouldn't have the "approval" of his father from the start. Instead of using Mai as a manner of compensation for him, or as his only true bond in the Fire Nation, Mai was actually another source of anguish simply because she moved on with her life, something Zuko never anticipated she would do. Iroh's sudden interest in the Gladiator League, his sister being up to her own business and becoming a hugely popular public figure while he was mostly sorting out how to live life again... Zuko had a lot on his plate for sure from the very beginning.

Instead of simply making these inconveniences go away, though, instead of featuring every character validating him at every turn and grieving along with him over how unfair his life was, Gladiator's Zuko had to learn how to live with all those things that changed while he was gone. He learned to let go of so many things he couldn't control. He started developing his own interests, connecting with new people, and he tried to figure out how he wanted to live his life, above all else. If he was never going to reclaim his role as Ozai's heir because Ozai wouldn't let him? Zuko would have to decide what to make of himself beyond the idealized future on the throne that he used to cling to... and he did just that.

At this point, back in Part 1, I realized that a lot of what I was doing with Zuko had never really happened in canon. His personal worldview wasn't defied: his father's worldview, which he had adopted, but that he apparently didn't believe all that faithfully, was what he changed his mind about, and he wound up adopting Iroh's belief system instead. It's not Zuko's own beliefs that are contested and challenged: one example of that is his belief in canon that his sister was born lucky, that she didn't work for anything, that he was the one who had to struggle and that was why he was ultimately stronger than her: at no point does the story make him look at his sister any differently. At no point does he conclude that maybe it's fine if she's a stronger fighter because his convictions are the right ones, because his bonds with people are truer, because maybe the true worth of a person isn't how skilled they are at combat. He was never confronted with any of this, never had to think on it at all, and so, the story concludes by as good as rewarding him with a fight where he's beating up his sister and proving himself superior to her. How was his belief defied? It wasn't. It was only reinforced, confirmed, reiterated, and he got away with his dream scenario in which he "put Azula in her place". As in, chains and an asylum. How much of a challenge was this, in terms of conviction, for Zuko? It wasn't one whatsoever.

Along with that belief, he also believed the throne was his birthright (... and I reiterate that I don't understand why he treated it that way, considering that he spent many years of his life believing Iroh and Lu Ten would be Fire Lord and Crown Prince respectively, far more years than he spent being banished or being Crown Prince for Ozai...), but by the end of the story, he becomes Fire Lord indeed, so what he was chasing for happened anyhow: Zuko is rewarded, yet again, by the confirmation of the beliefs he held all along. Yes, he had a hard time throughout the show, but that doesn't change that when the story wraps up, he's exactly where he always envisioned he would be. So, as much as he may have changed and grown, ultimately his two primary beliefs ("Azula needs to go down", "I will be Fire Lord"), at the very core of his character, were never put into question.

This is without going into all those times where his behavior leaves much to be desired, where he acts irresponsibly, where he even withholds vital information from his new friends for reasons that don't make sense, and he gets away with all of it without even a slap on the wrist. There's no pushback, all be it so he can have, again, exactly what he wants: a group of friends who cherish him deeply, so much that he can do completely senseless things like attack them over their inaction due to their lack of information, which he didn't bother disclosing to them because "it was obvious" (it wasn't), and nobody finds that alarming or worrisome, anything he says or does is 100% fine because it's him and everyone must love him, of course.

All this flies against some of my fundamental passions as a storyteller. I've always enjoyed doing something that is, honestly, a really simple way to build a character arc: give a character something they want, and then take them on a journey of existential crisis that will eventually make them question whether or not that's really what they want anymore x'D I've been doing it since well before I got into ATLA, and it's 100% what I've done with a LOT of characters in Gladiator. There was nothing quite as distressing for someone like Azula than falling in love with the defiant Water Tribe warrior who refuses to bow down to the Fire Nation's alleged superiority, all of which leads her to question her beliefs, her assumptions about life -- is the Fire Nation truly superior? Is Sokka right to defy it and rebel as often as he does? Her father, obviously, doesn't want her to marry anyone outside Fire Nation nobility -- is he right to want that, though? Isn't it up to her to decide what she should do in life? If she chooses to be with Sokka, does it mean she's rebelling against her father? Is that wrong or right? After over twenty years of following Ozai's ideology, does she have the courage to turn her back on him and open her heart to a different way of living?

It's particularly easy to see it in Azula, but it really has happened with basically every important character in the story (save for the more villainous ones, I guess), and Zuko is no exception. The goals he sought, the people he idealized and idolized, have changed a lot in his eyes as he grows and changes too. And by specifically choosing every element of his growth, and how they impact him, I've also pushed his development all the way to the point where, like you mentioned, he meets Guru Pathik and, upon opening his fire chakra, Zuko is basically set free. Everything he went through up until that moment has been adding up to a conclusion he hadn't quite unlocked... until he did that day. It was difficult, it wasn't intuitive for him, but it's as if he had opened his eyes to the world fully for the first time, and he could see things so much more clearly because he finally knows how to do so. And it doesn't mean that he will be at all merciful with Ozai, just as it doesn't mean that he will condemn Iroh to hell for the horrors he's responsible for... but it means that he's ready to stand on his own, and to not let other people choose his identity for him, particularly these two.

I'm honestly surprised by how his development has reached the point it has. After all these years of being well-known for being ambivalent towards Zuko even at the best of times, I've honestly felt proud of this guy for the first time ever while writing Gladiator Part 3 xD it's not exactly common for me to feel that I'm in a good spot with Zuko, but it really took me breaking him down from the get-go, rewinding him to his earliest stages, with very little to no development, and taking his growth into my own hands completely. I'm sure a few people thought I was a mindless Zuko hater after everything I put him through in Part 1, and that everything I was doing to him was some manner of vendetta because he had a better outcome in canon than Azula, and I was overcompensating for that in Gladiator... well, I hope that, if any of those people are still here now, they'll actually see what the point was xD the point honestly wasn't to punish Zuko: I just needed to develop him on my own terms, and it wasn't an easy journey, but it's one I'm genuinely pleased with. His hard-gained maturity, his reliability, his strength of heart even when facing that the world isn't quite what he thought he was... all those things have led me to feel like I can actually write, at last, the characterization of Zuko that so many people thought I should have been doing since day one. But this time, I handled it myself. This time, I know this character personally, and I know that his journey adds up to the man he has become up to the newest chapters. I'm not standing on shaky grounds, confused about what I'm doing, the way I was with his character back when I was writing canon-based content primarily.

And indeed, in doing so, I've come to understand just why Zuko's canon journey didn't hit every mark I needed it to. I'm not going to pretend that I've handled him flawlessly, but I do think that I've let him be a version of himself that doesn't need to be coddled, doesn't need a second person to perpetually stand beside him, whispering in his ear what's right or wrong, doesn't need someone else to serve as his scapegoat, so he can blame all his misfortunes on them... above all else, it's a Zuko who can think properly on who he is, who he wants to be, and reflect on whether he's failing or succeeding at that endeavor. Yes, sometimes he'll feel the pull to be selfish, sometimes he'll be harsh, sometimes he'll be unsure of what path to follow, but ultimately? He will be ready to make the tough choices. He will also be ready to step out of his comfort zone to do right by the people he wants to protect. He will be responsible... he will actually learn to be a leader, and not simply for the sake of repurposing the skill for a future potential tenure as Fire Lord. That's not his ultimate motivation in this setting.

So, all of this really ended up putting in sharp focus for me that so many of these elements of growth are actually only implicit in canon, or outright non-existent. They hinge often on interpreting Zuko in the most positive light possible, in denying his flaws and in pretending the tropes he embodies are more representative of who he is than the person he actually proved to be through his actions and behavior throughout the show. In one breath, people will claim he's incredibly complex and in the next they will sweep away all such complexities to declare him exempt from all the consequences of his actions. As much as I can understand the protectiveness that comes with having a fictional character mean a lot to you, the fact that pointing out any single mistake or misbehavior by him in canon feels like such a threat to the character his fans think he is -- hence their immediate, alarming, wild arguments to defend him --, tells you that the idea of Zuko is more important than Zuko as a fictional character. It's all about what he "represents", and very little about who he actually is. In my experience, it's not common to find fic writers who actually handle Zuko correctly, and I sure love it when they do, but just as you said it, so many people bank on milking out extra sympathy for him (as if the show hadn't done a ton of that to begin with), and very little is about exploring him as a character in a deeper, more challenging way than what canon did.

As a long-time Zuko critic, I'll never stop saying that my problem with Zuko isn't who he's supposed to be, but who he actually is. It's in the writing flaws that make his growth process far more questionable in canon than it should be, and more than anything, that the fandom has taken to defending anything he chooses to do relentlessly, almost religiously. There are so many elements of his growth that could have been handled better... and as I wrote him in Gladiator, the clearer those elements became. Naturally, I'm working with an older Zuko, but similar beats could have happened in his character arc in the show and they simply didn't.

Anyway! All this is to say... thank you very much for sharing your thoughts :) I know there's been a ton of contentious arguments about these subjects lately, and I really am glad that I can write a Zuko that makes sense to those of us who are critical of him in canon. What I feel like a lot of the Zuko defenders don't understand is that we don't want him to be perfect: we want him to be treated in the same way other characters are treated, rather than getting preferential treatment where so many others, with similar traumas to his own, aren't given the same courtesy. But in my honest, sincere opinion, I wish I could love Zuko. I really wish I could enjoy his character as much as other people do. I absolutely believe I would, if the writing around him had addressed all the elements I needed it to address in order for his journey and character arc to add up successfully. And yes, it's fine by me if people love him exactly as he is: I don't have to, though. Neither do you. And if I'm writing a Zuko the two of us can genuinely enjoy, the better for us, am I right? XD

Thanks again for this ask <3

[porcelian]

A SIGHT SO SWEET

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ gn!reader ;

SYNOPSIS: jason can't seem to get enough of you – his watchful eye never once leaves you ;

REQUEST: “ hello! i went to a party today and i kept thinking about jason. well, i think he'd be the kind of partner who'd watch you from afar to make sure you're okay, he'd definitely have access to your location 24 hours for his own peace of mind. i went to a party today and i wondered what it would be like for him to watch me while he's on patrol to make sure i'm ok, he'd want to know when you're leaving your house, when you've arrived the place you're going to and when you're leaving as well. especially given the fact that i've been drinking i think... anyway, could you write something based on that? xx 💋 ”

WARNINGS: nothing to worry about in this fic. it can get a bit suggestive at the end ;

WORD COUNT: 1.0k ;

NOTES: i enjoyed writing this fic so much! i'm not sure what sparked it, but the process was so fluid and enjoyable. thank you for this request <3 it was a joy to write. it is honestly such a marvel to try and understand jason's character with every piece of work i write. i started around june-july and now i feel confident to call myself a writer and i have all of you to thank <3 ;

── .✦ NAVIGATION ; MASTERLIST & AO3 ౨ৎ

“I'M TOUGH.” you remark as Jason’s rough fingertips dance over your knuckles ever so delicately.

He regards you as if he'd break you if he grabbed on too hard. His soft touches light a candle in your heart. Your skin feels hot as his touch grazes over it.

He nods, “I know you are.” His voice is laced with the all too familiar worry you've grown to hear from him.

You wish you could take all of it away and protect him. Unfortunately, you can't do that. You settle with trying to carry the burden together and prove to him he doesn't have to face any of this alone.

“C’mon Jay—” you pout, his eyes dart between your charming eyes and lips - dewy from the cherry lipstick you wear.

Cherries, an angel's kiss in spring.

“—It’s just a simple bar, a small get-together with some of my UNI friends. Nothing bad will happen,” you put the emphasis on the last bit of your words as an effort to soothe Jason's fears and reassure him, “I can take care of myself.”

“You have,” he says, “you still do and will do so, I’ve just joined in too. I want to take care of you too.”

His words strike a chord inside your heart, the saccharine taste of them fills every corner of your body. Those endearing eyes he sneaks glances at you, not aware that you notice them and do the same, break into the surface of your skin and steal your breath away.

He has a way of consuming every bit and part of you. That never fails to mesmerize you.

“We take care of eachother.” You reply as your lips graze over his scarred knuckles. “I don't want you to worry so much, baby.”

He sighs as he leans into your touch. “I know, I just—” he stammers, the words getting stuck on his tongue.

“It's normal to worry, but you can’t let it consume you.” You bring your hands to cradle his face. Jason doesn't shy away from the touch and sinks into your embrace – the sight makes your heart ache in the best way.

You grab onto his hand and place it on the inside of your wrist, letting him feel your pulse.

You give him a cheeky grin as you whisper, “feel that?”

He chuckles quietly, “Mhm, yes.”

“As long as you see, hear and feel me – I will never leave.”

*****

In Jason's mind there is not a single person in this world who compares to you. No one is as dreamlike and otherworldly like you. Especially now, as he watches you sway and move in the kaleidoscopic hues of the bar. The prismatic lights kiss your delicate and inviting skin.

Oh, how he wishes to do the same.

Jason wonders if you know that he’s keeping an eye on you right now, if you can feel his watchful gaze on your form. Do his glances light a fire in your heart just as yours does in his?

He should be patrolling right now, making sure everything is okay. But he find his eyes following your every step as you glide through the dance floor.

He knew when you left the shared apartment that belongs to the two of you – 6:31 pm, knew when you arrived at the bar – 7:05 pm, knew when you finally met up with your friends – 7:18 pm.

Jason engraves every detail in his mind, because he has to. He's making sure that you're okay, that you're safe.

He catches a glimpse of you drinking some vibrant drink. You scrunch your nose at the taste of it and the sight sends butterflies in his stomach.

You laugh at something your friend says. The infectious and melodic sound of it reaches Jason. He can’t help the moonstruck grin that spreads on his face.

Jason's thrown for a loop when he spots your gaze pin him in place. Your eyes fixate on him as if you're entranced, as if he's the only one in the room.

He feels his heartbeat speed up.

Without tearing your gaze off of him you mumble something to your friends, something that he can only guess was a short goodbye. The surprised looks on your friends faces quickly disappear from his mind as you stride to him with confident, but light steps.

“Come to take me home?” You question with a curious voice with a taste of something he can't yet place.

He sheepishly runs his hand down his neck. “What gave it away?”

“Well.” You click your tongue. A smirk dances on your lips. “You've been pretty attentive all night long, watching my every move. I hope the show was up to your standards.”

“Show–?” He chokes on his words. You tease.

You laugh. The sound is akin to honeyed nectar on his tongue.

Jason tries to collect his thoughts. “I still haven't had my fill and I don't plan on leaving you unsatisfied either.”

“Really? I wonder who's the greedy one in this relationship.” You hum playfully.

“Dance with me,” he suggests unexpectedly.

Your eyes dart across his face, taking in his nervous demeanor. “You don't dance.”

“For you I will.”

*****

He spares a single glance at the time. 10:46pm. Time for you to head back to the apartment.

He counts himself a lucky man as the one who takes you home, as the one who waits for you outside the bar, as the one your wobbly steps guide you towards, as the one you wrap your arms around while he caresses your face and tells you to let me help you with the helmet, honey.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. The skin is velvety to the touch.

Jason's eyes don't leave your own dazed and enchanted eyes. To him you are a vision so captivating, so sickeningly sweet, all he wants is to get a taste of you.

He is taking you home, isn't he? He is truly a lucky man.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[lovelivision]

TEMPORARY

pairing: gojo satoru/reader

wc: 5.2k

summary: your close friend gojo is kind enough to let you stay with him for a while, it's just a shame that he's overly curious about what you read when he's not home

a/n; gojo is nosy and i stand by that, also, i can't seem to help myself when it comes to him... this was only meant to be 2k but i think i like him a little too much. that or he just yaps a lot

warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, dirty talk, fingering, tease!gojo, hickeys, p in v sex, clit slapping (once), creampie, afab!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n, big dick gojo, gojo likes embarrassing reader

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Somehow, you’ve ended up in Gojo’s fancy apartment… the ‘somehow’ is, he is one of your closest friends and the only person you could ask for help. It had already been a long day when you came home to a hole in your ceiling and a bath – that isn’t yours but the floors above – in your apartment, you wanted to give up on life. Your apartment was wet and some of your stuff had water damage.

Maybe if you weren’t so distraught and just wanting somewhere to stay, you would’ve asked someone else but you decided to call Gojo and while he was more than happy to accommodate you, temporary living with him has been… troublesome.

It’s not so much as what he’s been doing but how you’re feeling, you feel self-conscious and too aware of yourself. Constantly wondering if it’s okay that you’re here, that you’re sitting on his couch or using his kitchen. He goes away for days at a time and yet you still worry about whether or not it’s okay you’re here.

You don’t bug him too much with it, you know that can get annoying, asking for constant reassurance but you’re worried that you’re overstaying your welcome. Especially when your building manager keeps calling and telling you fixes will take longer than expected. At this rate, you might just have to live elsewhere.

Another call like that had just come in and when you walk back into the living room and plonk down on the couch next to Gojo, he can immediately tell you’re feeling disheartened, “Not ready yet?”

“I don’t even know if they’ve started yet,” you sigh, kicking your feet a little in your frustration, “I’m really sorry, Gojo,” you lean back into the couch more, head resting on the back of it.

“I’m not worried about it,” he hums, crossed leg bouncing slightly, “Stay as long as you like, it’s nice having someone here when I come home,” he leans his head back on the couch too but turns to look at you.

Turning your head, you meet his gaze, “Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” your brows pull together, “I can always find another place to stay, honestly, I won’t be offended if you’re sick of me… I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

He scoffs, “What inconvenience? You barely make a mess and move around the place like it’s made of glass,” he’s making fun of you a little, trying to get you to relax more, “You should chill out and get a bit more comfortable, it seems like you might be here for a while yet,” he shrugs easily, not at all worried about you staying.

You intake a breath, “Yeah but I–”

“–Plus, where else would you stay? I’m like… your only friend,” he snickers.

Frowning at him, you defend, “That’s not true and you know it!”

“Yeah? Then why was I your first call?” He’s smug.

Looking away, you mumble, “You have no way of knowing that.”

“Ah, but I think your reaction gave it away,” he chuckles, poking your cheek with his finger.

“I wonder if it’s too late to ask Shoko for her couch,” you grumble, ignoring him.

“Nooo~” he pouts, “Don’t leave, you’re such a good guest, I’m sorry for saying you have no friends.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Do you ever get tired of yourself,” you ask, side-eyeing him.

He smiles big, “Never.”

If Gojo were being honest with you, he’d admit he likes your company, he likes coming home and hearing you patter around his apartment, and he likes that you trusted him enough to call him when you needed help. He likes that he was the first person you called because he wants you to rely on him, he wants to feel wanted and needed by you. It’s just a shame a bathtub had to fall through your ceiling for it to happen.

He's not even mad that your building manager is downright atrocious at his job because that just means he gets to have more time with you.

⸝⸝⸝

You’re in his home… alone, just for tonight. Gojo said he had ‘super important and super-secret’ things to attend to, so you’re choosing to be scandalous and instead of reading your current novel in your room, you’re reading it on the couch.

Under a blanket and snuggled into Gojo’s nice couch is about as close to comfortable as you get these days. His living room is nice and you like it out here, though you tend to shy away from main areas when he’s home, afraid of disturbing his peace.

The book is in depth, the scenes heating up quickly, you quietly read, flicking the pages slowly, savouring the tension. It’s not often that you read stuff like this but you’re getting invested, finding a good book with plot and porn is hard to come by and you’re finding yourself getting more and more invested.

Gojo’s voice from behind you is a scare you weren’t ready for, “Wouldn’t it feel better to actually get fucked instead of just reading about it?”

“Fuck! Geez, Gojo, way to scare someone to death,” you huff, not at all ready for his comparably loud voice in the quiet room.

He’s leaning over the back of the couch, apparently reading over your shoulder, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yeah, that’s why you were lurking behind me for so long… because you didn’t mean to scare me,” you crane your neck to look up at him, your eyes showing your clear scepticism.

“Let’s change the topic back to how you’re reading porn out in the open,” he smiles.

You squint at him, “It’s a sex scene, not a porn book.”

He leans in a little closer, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“You’re nosy,” you accuse.

He clarifies, “I am curious.” He adds, “You were so involved in your book that you didn’t even notice my presence… now I know why,” his eyebrows wiggle at you.

You shoot your head back up so you don’t have to look at him, “Why are you back anyways? I thought you weren’t gonna be home until tomorrow?”

“I’m just simply too good,” he boasts. You grumble at him but pick up your blanket and stomp off to the spare room with your book, he calls out to you, “Don’t be like that, come hang out with me.”

“No,” you cement, feeling overly embarrassed. You know he was just kidding but you can’t help the way your skin feels all hot and the bit of shame that creeps into your bones.

⸝⸝⸝

When you’re in bed, you don’t continue reading, the moment ruined and now you just want to crawl into a ball and die. It’s too early to sleep though, so you end up just lying there lifelessly. Some time passes before Gojo knocks on your door, waiting for you to answer to see if you’re still awake.

“Go away,” you pout out. He opens the door at the sound of your voice, “That’s like… the exact opposite of going away.”

“I know,” he shuffles over to the bed and flops down next to you, making himself comfortable, “But I wanna talk about earlier.”

You groan, “Ugh, that’s like the last thing I wanna talk about with you right now.”

“You sure? Because there are plenty of other things I could think to talk about instead,” he smiles evilly, he sits up slightly, resting his weight on his forearm to watch over you.

Flat on your back, you scowl up at him, “Maybe we should talk about how lovely the weather has been lately.”

“It’s been raining for a week straight,” he reminds.

You cross your arms over your chest, “…Maybe I like the rain.”

“I am sorry,” he changes the topic.

“It doesn’t matter,” you try brushing it off.

“I made you uncomfortable and I didn’t mean to,” he looks away in thought, “I wasn’t trying to pry, I just wanted to know what you were so interested in and when I saw–”

“–Okay! It’s fine, I’m not mad.”

“It would be understandable if you were,” he flops onto his back again.

You turn to look at him, “If you’re still feeling bad, make me breakfast in the morning.”

“Look at that! I think all the guilt I had just left my body,” he smiles cheekily, also turning to look at you.

You can’t help the way your eyes drop to his lips, just for a second, you didn’t mean anything by it… you think. Gojo sees it because of course he does, he doesn’t miss a single thing and he decides to push the limits of your friendship, just a little bit.

He speaks again, “You know… I am curious about something though.”

Unamused, you raise a brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Does it do anything? I mean… reading porn like that? Does it actually effect you?” He knows what he’s doing and he knows the answer to his question, he’s not as dense as he pretends he is.

“Invasive question,” you squint at him before letting your face relax, “I can always read it to you and you can see for yourself,” you joke.

His smile grows, “Fantastic idea!”

Your eyes widen, “No! No it’s not! I was kidding, I’m not reading porn to you Gojo.”

“Boo,” he jeers.

“You’re so weird,” you sigh.

He offers you an alternative, “I’ll settle for an answer to my question if you don’t want to read me porn.”

This man is getting on your nerves, “Who would want to do that in the first place?”

“Me, I will read porn to you right now if you like,” he offers.

“Okay let me rephrase, what kind of sane person would want that?” You’re hoping to guide him away from this topic.

“Ouch, words hurt,” you can see his face light up with his joke, “And arouse, apparently.”

“What do you mean apparently?” You ask, “I haven’t even answered your question, very presumptuous of you.”

“Yeah but if the answer was a simple ‘no’ you would’ve just said that and moved on,” he looks proud of himself right now, “Sometimes… not giving an answer is almost as telling as giving one.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you move your head to face the ceiling again, “Get a load of Socrates over here.” You sigh, “What do you want to hear? That it does arouse me, that I get sooo wet reading porn on your couch while you’re gone?”

He’s quiet, at a loss for words really, which is shocking to you. His prolonged silence has you looking back to him. His eyes look a little darker than before, his gaze far away. You’re starting to feel bad, like maybe you’re the one who took it too far now, “Gojo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you–”

“–No… go on,” he encourages, “Tell me all about what you do when I’m not home,” his eyes glimmer.

“I– nothing really– I’m not…” you’re starting to heat up, his gaze on you not helping, “I’m not being creepy while you’re gone…”

“I didn’t say you were being creepy,” he moves so he’s being supported by his forearm again, your eyes follow him as he ends up almost hovering over you, “I said I wanted to know what else you do when I’m not home.”

You hesitate, “This might not be–”

“You don’t have to tell me, if I’m being pushy, if you’re uncomfortable… tell me, I’ll leave you alone,” he wants this bad but he’s not going to force you, he wants you to want it too.

“It’s not… I am uncomfortable but only because,” your thighs press together slightly, seeking pressure, you’re uncomfortable because he’s turning you on and he’s not done a damn thing.

“…Because…”

“Ugh, Gojo,” your hands cover your face, trying to hide yourself from his eyes, “Because you’re…” you mumble, trailing off.

He leans in a little closer, smug smile loud in his voice, “I’m sorry, what?”

You peak through your fingers, “…You’re…turning me on…”

“I still didn’t get that,” he feigns ignorance, he heard you just fine, “Maybe move your hands properly?”

“You’re being mean,” you mutter from behind your hands, “I know you heard me.”

His gaze lowers, scanning your body, taking in how your breathing has sped up, how your thighs clench together, fighting the urge to rub against each other. “No idea what you’re on about, I can’t hear a thing from behind your hands.”

You drop your arms with a huff, “You’re really quite unkind, you know?”

“I think I’m perfectly kind,” his tone is jovial, happy with your acquiescence, “Now repeat what you said, I wanna hear it loud and clear.”

You’re gonna hit him, you wanna hit him. Taking a breath, your hands reach out for his face and move him so he’s looking you dead in the eyes, “Gojo… you’re making me really wet and needy,” your tone is coquettish, “I need your help, please.”

His eyes brighten, deliciously satisfied with your words and confession, “Tell me what you do when I’m not here then.”

You stare at him, you thought you had one up him but he readjusts alarmingly well, you’ll just have to double down, “I lay on your nice, big couch and I fingerfuck myself, hoping I get to cum before you get home.”

“I already like coming home to you,” he leans into you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “I think I’d like coming home to the sounds of you playing with your wet cunt even more.”

Oh god, he might kill you, he’s clearly much better at this than you are, his words have your eyes glazing over slightly. Just his presence is suffocating, “Gojo, please… touch me?”

He pulls back, “Hmm, giving up already? Where’s your fighting spirit?”

“You’re an unbearable tease…”

“Tease… yes. Unbearable? I don’t agree, you’ve put up with me for this long,” he all but singsongs, he’s so smug – you want to get up and walk away from him but you don’t have the strength.

“Either kiss me or I’m changing my mind and pretending that tonight didn’t happen,” you glare at him.

His smile doesn’t falter, “Now who’s unkind?” You make a show of trying to get up but he pushes you back down into the mattress, his lips finding yours. You moan into his kiss and he huffs against you, “Open your mouth more,” he speaks against you.

You do as he says and his tongue slips into your mouth, he licks at you and you tentatively meet him half-way. If kissing someone felt this good surely you’d have remembered it, so why can’t you remember a single kiss that feels as good as this one.

He crawls onto you more, your hands move to find his shoulders before wrapping around his neck, tugging him closer. He groans into the kiss and you swallow it down, your head is swimming, he sounds hot, he feels hot, he’s making you feel hot.

He pulls back, “Fuck, I gotta touch you, let me touch you.”

“Mhm, yeah, please,” you’re all too eager to agree, not missing the thinly veiled desperation in his words.

His hand is quick to snake down your body and into your pants, slipping past the waist band of your underwear. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers carefully part your folds and slide through you’re very wet cunt. Gojo groans, he wasn’t expecting you to be this aroused, his head swimming with just how slick it must feel to fuck balls deep inside your pussy.

His dick twitches in his pants, he’s been horny since he started this stupid conversation, not that you noticed, too self-conscious to take note of the semi he’d been sporting while teasing you. Fuck, he needs more, his finger moves to your entrance, his eyes watching your expression carefully as he slips it inside you.

Your brows turn up and a soft sigh leaves your lungs at his finger entering you, he doesn’t move straight away, his thumb instead rubbing into your clit. He can feel the way your walls twitch around his single digit; he might go crazy before this is over.

“Gojo~ more,” you want more, you wanna feel full.

“Anything for you,” he teases but pulls his single finger back, easing in another with it.

They curl when reaching their hilt, caressing inside you, the pleasure makes you whine and your stomach jump. He pumps his fingers languidly, enjoying the view, delighting in how you squirm and whimper underneath him from just a couple fingers.

He looks down to his hand underneath your pants, your thighs shake slightly, “That’s cute,” he murmurs.

He pulls his hand away from you, “Wait– Gojo what are–”

Laughing at how frantic you are, he reassures, “–Shh, it’s fine, I just wanna see how your pretty pussy sucks my fingers back in is all.”

You feel like you could faint, he’s so crude and for what reason? Just to embarrass you? Or to turn you on? Or is it just a bonus that he manages to do both at the same time?

Your pants and underwear are tugged off at once, he kneels between your legs and very lewdly pulls them wide apart, his eyes greedily watching the way your cunt opens up for him. He salivates at the way your pussy glimmers for him, cunt drooling from your tight hole, down your ass cheeks and onto the bed.

He wastes no more time and fills you back up with his long fingers, his mind registering that you got wetter, fuck you can get even wetter. The realisation hits him like a ton of bricks and he has a feeling he knows exactly what did it.  

A grin on his face, he asks, “You know you could get this wet? Or are you shocked?” It’s not rhetorical, and to demonstrate what he means, his fingers speed up and you can hear the loud and obscene noises of your wet cunt sucking them back in.

You clench around his fingers at his words and his smile grows, now fully understanding the effect he has on you. The delight he takes in it could almost be diabolical, the enjoyment he’s getting out of knowing he can be a little mean or lewd with his words and it will only turn you is immense.

“Come on, I want an answer when I ask a question,” he reminds you.

You gasp as his fingers crook up, purposefully making it harder for you to answer, “I –hah– I didn’t knooww–”

And you didn’t, not to this extent, it’s mortifying, how much your cunt gushes for him. You’re ashamed and also… so ridiculously turned on. His voice doesn’t help, not only the content of his words but just the sound of him, it’s setting you on edge.

“I find that quite shocking, only realising just how turned on you can get and it’s for your good friend? How scandalous,” he tsks at you, his words holding no malice, he truly is amused by how things have unfolded.

“Stop t–teasing me, Gojo,” you frown at him but it’s not nearly as effective as it normally would be. To him you look like a cute mess who’s making a mess on his fingers and spare bed sheets.

His thumb presses into your clit again, steady pressure rounding it, “I like teasing you though~”

Your head tilts back, your eyes unable to focus on anything, you’re going to cum, you’re so fucking close, you just need him to not stop, “Gojo, please, d–don’t stop –ngh– please, please, please please pleaseppleaseplease,” you’re begging him to show mercy – pity, you don’t care what you just want him to make you cum.

“You think I’d be so mean as to not let you cum?” he asks like it’s not definitely within his character to do something so cruel, “I’d never deprive myself of the sight.”

Your toes curl and your head presses back into the pillows hard, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. It feels like your stomach does flips as you moan out for Gojo, your hands clutching the sheets as you shake pitifully with the force of your orgasm.

He massages your walls through it, fucking his fingers in and out of you steadily, letting you ride out your high. He keeps going even as you reach overstimulation, he likes seeing you twitch and shake with your sensitivity, makes his cock leak into his pants at how you clench pathetically around his fingers as he strokes in and out of you as he pleases.

“Gojo… is too much,” you mumble weakly.

He hums at you but pulls his fingers from your sopping cunt, he holds his two fingers up and pulls them apart, watching the way your cum coats them and connects them by sticky strings. Fuck it’s a sight to behold to him, he shoves those two fingers right into his mouth, sucking them clean and savouring the taste.

Pulling his digits out of his mouth, he comments, “I think… if I didn’t wanna stick my dick into you as badly as I do… I’d shove my tongue inside your little pussy and eat you until you came again and again and–”

You’re gonna burst into flames, “–Do you get off on your own words or something?”

“I’m not the one getting off on my words,” he grins knowingly.

The words you were going to retort with die on your tongue as he suddenly tugs his shirt off, exposing his bare skin to you. How are you meant to reply with anything smart when he’s constantly able to throw you off kilter, you can’t win against him.

He undoes his belt and nods towards you, “Take your shirt off.”

“…Bossy,” you pout out.

He stands up to undress completely, “You into that?”

“No.”

“Could’ve fooled me, you take directions so well,” he smirks, clearly poking fun at how you took off your shirt as soon as he asked you to. He gets back on the bed and taps your thigh, “Hands and knees,” you look at him with an unamused expression and he tacks on, “Pleeeasseeee?”

You get up and spin round onto your hands and knees, feeling vulnerable like this, extra so because you can’t see what he’s doing. One of his hands slides from your lower back up your spine, gentle pressure behind his touch, encouraging you to push your upper half into the bed, cheek pressed against the mattress by the time he reaches your neck.

“Yeahhh, you take directions so well,” he means it as a compliment but it feels degrading.

Soft clicking noises of him fisting his cock fill the room, he’s spreading his precum all along the shaft, collecting it at the tip. He needs to be slick if you’re gonna take him, though he figures you’ve done most of the work on that end already.

You wiggle your hips back at him, feeling impatient and dazed from your previous orgasm. He chuckles at your eagerness but doesn’t keep you waiting, you’re far too enticing for him to tease any longer. He swipes his dick through your folds a few times first, letting you feel him and also let your cunt drool onto him a bit.

He wants to slam into you quickly, he’s so sick of waiting, he’s harder than he’s been in his life and he’s itching to have your pussy swallow him whole but he doesn’t want to hurt you. If he fucks this up he’ll never forgive himself, he needs to give you the best dicking of your life so that you keep coming back to him for more.

His initial thrust is shallow and barely gets the head of his cock inside you, this is going to be a slow process. He’ll have to take his time, not that he particularly minds, the longer he takes, the longer he gets to spend fucking you. This is a responsible decision on Gojo’s behalf, unfortunately for him, you’re not quite so patient. You’re horny beyond belief and have the sudden urge for him to be as deep as he can possibly get, you want to feel him in your guts, you fucking need it.

Bracing yourself, you spread your legs apart further and push back, his cock slipping deeper suddenly, the stretch has a delicious feeling crawling up your spine, or maybe that’s Gojo’s hand. His hand reaches around your neck and pulls your back to his front, a whimper tumbling from you as you slide down his cock further.

He breathes against you, “Desperate thing aren’t you?” He nips your ear and then trails his lips down to your neck, leaving marks in his wake.  

His hips thrust up, forcing you to take more of him, “Ah~ sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry~ I think it’s very endearing,” his voice is dreamy, “Very flattering, willing to hurt yourself just to take me?”

Ah, of course he’d find a way to boost his own ego through all this, “–ngh– You really do love yourself, huh?”

You can feel his big smile against your skin, “Not as much as I love this pussy,” he thrusts inside you deeper, punctuating his words with his hips.

You can’t do much else but moan and take it like this, though, you’re pretty happy to take it like this. Your slick gushes from your cunt and leaks down his shaft. The mess you’re making on the bed is beyond lewd and you have no idea if you should be more embarrassed of the state you’re in. You’re not here though, you’re elsewhere, head in the clouds as your eyes glaze over.

“Aww~ you’ve gone stupid and I’m not even fully in yet,” he coos at you.

He drops you back down onto the bed in your previous position, face buried into the blankets with your ass in the air, back arched deeply. Gojo thinks he has enough room to slip in completely now so he does, when he does, he knocks something so deep inside you that your cunt quivers and you make the smallest, fucked out sound.

It makes him moan deeply, your pussy gripping him for dear life as you sound out gasped whimpers, you’re a fucking mess in more than one way and he’s gonna paint your walls white before too long if he doesn’t get it together. Your cunt is sinfully tight, snug and warm around him, spilling out around where he’s stuffed you full. Your eyes are glassy and fucked out and you look like you might cry, drool dribbles from the corner of your mouth from how deep you can feel him.

Tentatively, he pulls back, his thrusts initially shallow, wanting to get you used to the motion, you really are not capable of any coherent thought, everything coming from you right now is downright pornographic, you don’t even think you could string together enough words to beg him to let you cum.

He’s ruining any future sex you may have and he’s barely started fucking you, his rhythm, is slow but constant. The pressure you feel slowly building in your abdomen makes your pussy cry on his cock.

“You literally have–” he cuts himself off with his own gasped whine, “–the most perfect cunt, holy fuck.” What he did in life to deserve sticking his dick inside you, he has no clue but he’ll keep doing it if it means fucking your tight hole.

You chant his name at him, it’s all you’re really able to do, in your brain fog you spill out, “S’toru sobig, you’re –hng– so deep~” You can’t think.

His hands grab your hips tight, the pressure bruising, his thrusts are speeding up, growing frantic, desperate. He’s fucking you like it’ll be the last time he ever gets to be inside you. One hand reaches around and lands on your clit, furiously rubbing at it, the stimulation has you biting back a cry as tears slip from the corner of your eyes.

Your pussy spasms and twitches on him violently, you’re so sensitive, in general and to him. His hand pulls you back against him with every thrust in, the resounding smacking of skin on skin and your sloppy cunt are like music to his ears. You’re so messy, such a beautiful and delightful mess, he wonders just how fucking messy he could make you; he’ll need to remember this thought if he ever gets another chance to have you… though he’s probably never going to be able to think of anything else after this.

The muscles in your legs are quivering, you’re not going to be able to hold yourself up for much longer, not with how he’s fucking you. You’re going to cum and then promptly pass out, your vision is dotted and you’re barely able to comprehend your surroundings, the only thing you hear is Gojo’s moans.

“Need you to cum for me, now,” he urges, his words hissed through his teeth, fighting off his own orgasm.

His fingers on your clit speed up, he slaps your clit once and harshly, the sudden contact makes you shake. Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your legs would’ve given out if he weren’t holding you up, you’re actually just crying now, the force of your orgasm shaking you to your core, it’s so overwhelming that it’s all you can feel.

Gojo moves both his hands to your ass cheeks and spreads them, looking at how he’s plowing into you over and over, watching how you grip him tight, trying to milk his cock. The sight of this, of your pussy clenching around him, has him cumming, he bites out your name before stuffing his dick all the way inside you. His cum dumping itself deep inside, his cock twitching as he spills. The amount he cums is immense, leaking out around the base of him and down onto the sheets, the mess you’ve both made only growing.

He stays seated inside you for a while, letting you both come down before even attempting to move. When he does slip out of you, it’s with a hiss, he holds you up for a bit longer, watching the way his cum seeps out of you, his eyes transfixed on how much he came inside of you, how much of him you took. He’s addicted.

Laying your lower half back onto the bed gently, he flops down next to you, evening out his breathing more. He turns his head to the side to look at you, your eyes closed and a stupid smile on your face, tear stains on your cheeks and a little bit of drool still present in the corner of your mouth.

He reaches out and wipes it way with his thumb, “Fucked dumb taken to a new level, huh?”

“You’ve ruined me,” you mutter back, not really paying attention.

A cocky grin takes its place on his face, “In what way?”

“S’many,” your words slur together.

He jokes, “Better than your book though right?”

You can only hum your confirmation, all your limbs are heavy, you might die, you’re fighting it though, the unconsciousness that’s threatening to take over.

Gojo moves closer to you, kissing your arm, “Hey, sleep, I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs into your skin.

That’s the last thing you hear before you’re dead asleep.

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[chestersturniolo]

dealer!chris x fem!reader

Summary ; dealer!chris visits y/n for a top up of her usual, but intrigue consumes her and she decides to try something new.

Warnings ; strong mentions/use of drugs (don’t do them!) , use of y/n & pet names. 

============================

after a long, long day, i trudge through the door of my apartment with a deep sigh. 

i throw my bags down by the door and immediately head to my bedroom, to the pretty glass jar stashed in my dresser. 

i fumble around the draw and pull it out,eagerly snatching the lid off. 

“fuck” i mumble to myself, whilst staring down at nothing but pathetic crumbs laying at the bottom of the jar. i let out a frustrated huff,setting it down on top of my dresser.

i reach to my back pocket, pulling out my phone 

the upside to running out is needing more…and needing more meant seeing him. 

chris was my first ever dealer. and my only one since then. at first i was terrified of him, i had never smoked before. so having to meet a scary stranger guy to be able to do so, made it even more nerve wracking.

••••••••••flashback••••••••••••

my heart is in my throat as i walk towards his car. the soft glow of the streetlights that flicker slightly not helping my nerves. meeting a random guy in his car at night for illegal activity? what could go wrong?

the only thing that keep those thoughts at bay (not really) is the fact i got his number from a close friend who i trust. 

“here goes nothing” i sing to myself before reaching out to the handle, plopping down into the passenger seat. i keep my eyes at my lap, too nervous to even make eye contact. 

“uh-hi” i mumble, barely audible

“what’s up… what do you want, and how much?” 

i tear my eyes away from my lap, to meet the boys gaze.

woah

i open my mouth to talk but nothing comes out, partly because i didn’t expect him to look like this , and partly because i had no idea what to say. or how any of this works. 

i just sit, staring like an idiot , mouth agape.

“helloooo” he says with a slight underline of frustration in his voice, waving his hand across my eye line to grab my attention. 

“what do you want” he repeats, 

i force myself out of my trance “um…weed?” i squeak, coming out more like a question 

“okaaay? and how much?” he presses.

his face emotionless and stern

once again i have no idea what to say. this should be so simple, but i have no idea the terms and phrases, how much is too much, how much is too little????? i try my best to hide the thoughts running through my head with a simple “just a little i guess…”

what the fuck is wrong with me 

i watch as his eyebrows raise and he lets out a soft chuckle

“you’ve never done this before have you” 

i wave of embarrassment washes over me as i feel my cheeks burn up, realising that my inexperience is so blatantly obvious. my gaze once again falls to my lap.

“uh..no..no i haven’t” 

he must notice my humiliated state, as his whole demeanour shifts.

“hey,don’t worry about it” he reassures, his voice now soft. 

“i’m just glad you came to me” 

i glance up to him once again, a new set of eyes now looking back at me. warm and reassuring.

a soft smile on the corner of his lips.

“i’ll help you out okay? i don’t think you should do it alone” 

i nod softly. for some reason i trust him.

•••••••flashback end•••••••

the rest of that night was spent with chris. he wasn’t so scary after all. we went to a backstreet and he talked me through everything. we smoked, we talked , we laughed. He made me feel so comfortable and safe. and i will forever be grateful for it.

i have been going to him ever since. although it’s not just a transaction.

we’ve hung out every now and again (a/n iykyk) and an unspoken connection has been built between me and chris since we met that night. i’m honestly not sure what it is. 

i’m not just a customer.

he’s not just my dealer.

we care for eachother.

———————

i change into an oversize T and some shorts to get comfy, whipping my bra off and basking in the free feeling. i hear my phone ping, i look over to see a text from chris ,

“here”

i smirk and slip some shoes on, not bothering with any extra clothing, making my way out the the apartment.

 

i see his car parked in the complex lot, i rush over ,goosebump’s engulf my skin as the cold night air whips around my legs. i swing the door open, plopping into the passenger seat of the warm car, the smell of chris’ familiar cologne fills the air. 

“hey ma” he chirps, shooting me his signature smirk whilst his eyes trail down to my legs and back up again.

“want your usual?” he asked, starting to rummage through the backpack on his lap.

“pleaaaaseee” i smile. 

chris starts pulling out handfuls of baggies placing them on his lap, whilst looking for my usual. my nosey eyes fall on the pile, examining the contents of each bag. one in particular catches my eye. the bright white contents staring back at me. i had never had any interest in anything else other than smoking. but for some reason,in this moment, my intrigue was strong. 

“here” chris says, holding out a familiar bag. 

i grab the bag without looking up 

“thanks”

chris notices my fixation and follows my gaze down to his lap. 

“oh absolutely not!”  

i snap my head up, his slightly widened eyes already on me. his eyebrows are raised as he looks at me with a face full of disbelief. this quickly turns into a stern look.

“no way, i’m not selling that to you” 

“why not, you sell it to other people?” i challenge with a slight pout. 

chris sighs and tears his eyes away,setting them on the dashboard. 

“yes, but they’re other people ma. you’re you.” he glances back to me 

“i’m not selling that shit to you y/n” 

i roll my eyes with a defeated sigh. 

“fine” i mumble, crossing my arms, turning my head frontways away from chris.

“don’t sell it to me. i just kinda wanted to try it…” i speak quietly, whilst making sure the disappointment in my tone was clear. 

see i knew chris was a softy deep down. at least for me. so i figured i’d try and make him cave with my pouty tone. but just incase that wouldn’t work, i had the perfect back up. Chris was firm about me not buying from anyone else… it wasn’t about him losing business, it was about other peoples product. He’d warned me countless times about “stepped on shit” and he made it very clear he doesn’t want me to go anywhere else for a fix.

“i guess i’ll see if y/f/n has any other contacts, maybe they’ll sell it to me” i say casually

“god dammit” i hear chris hiss under his breath through gritted teeth.

i smirk internally knowing that comment was working exactly how it was meant to.

i feel him grab my jaw, guiding my head back towards him. his eyes staring intently into mine.

“one try” he states. pointing a finger at me with his free hand. 

my lips turn upward into a smirk,

he notices my satisfaction, releasing his grip on my jaw. he sighs with a shake of his head. stuffing the scattered baggies on his lap back into his bag, before opening the car door and stepping out. i watch him as he comes round to my door, opening it and reaching a hand out. 

“come on” he orders. 

i grab his hand, he pulls me up and starts leading me back to my apartment. 

—————

my leg bounces anxiously as i perch on the edge of my couch, watching as chris wades through his bag once again. finally he pulls out the bag i was fixated on. he holds it up to our eye level, his eyes move from the bag to me.

“you’re sure about this?” he asks, with a dead serious expression. searching my eyes for any traces of hesitancy.  

i nod my head 

“talk to me” he presses 

“yes chris i’m sure”

he gives a soft nod of his head before opening the bag.  i watch as he brings his finger to his mouth giving a small suck to the tip, getting it wet. 

he pauses, glancing up to me

“you trust me?” 

i nod once again  “of course” 

he reaches into the bag dipping his finger into the powder. i watch curiously as it sticks to his wet finger tip. he scoots closer to me on the couch and uses his free hand to hold my jaw. 

“open sweetheart” he whispers, giving my jaw a small squeeze.

my brows furrow slightly, but i obey, slowly opening my mouth.

chris brings his other hand towards me , and slowly slides the coated finger into the side of my mouth. i feel him find his way to my gums, slowly rubbing up and down. his reassuring eyes not leaving mine. 

he repeats the action to the other side,then slowly pulls his finger out, planting a sweet kiss onto my cheek whilst still holding my jaw. before placing the finger that was in my mouth, into his own, taking off the excess. 

he sits back into the couch and watches me.

a mixture of anticipation and nerves start to wash over me, my leg returning to its bouncing state. the fear of what will happen next starts swirling in my brain. 

chris noticed my shift immediately , he reaches over and grips my knee, holting the bounces. brushing his thumb in small soothing circles. 

“hey-” he coos, bobbing his head down slightly to meet my gaze that’s now resting on the floor

“-it’s okay ma, i’ve got you aight?” 

================================

a/n - thankyou for reading loves🤍🤍🤍 and thankyou again for 500 of you!!? this was a fun one i hope you enjoyed. requests open 🥰

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

[lyneira]

♤♡ the first morning ♡♤

-> the morning after your first, passionate night with Malleus

malleus x fem!reader | fluff with some suggestive parts! (VERY suggestive towards the end ;))

based on this request!

but also a sequel to this post -> Nightly Visits + Your First Time with Malleus

I just know he'd be the first one to wake up, wanting to take the time to savor your sleeping expression. He'd fawn over you, admiring your figure as the rising sun begins to shed its warm rays onto your skin. He'd then smile since it would be reminiscent of how you enveloped each other in warmth the night prior, embracing one another closely as you two made love.

Honestly, he might not even have gotten much sleep at all. He'd have spent the rest of the night caressing you gently, trying to lull you to sleep, ever so softly humming a lovely tune so that you might have good dreams

On the other hand, he wouldn't have needed to sleep to have good dreams. He was already experiencing them, especially after that magical night you two became one, he would be replaying all of those events in his mind over and over again.

But as the sun was rising, he knew that it would soon be time to get up and start the day. Though, he really wouldn't want to at all. He'd wish he could stop time and lay in bed here with you forever because as long as he had you, he no longer felt so alone. He didn't need anyone else. You are his safe place. You are his home.

With that notion, he'd become so protective of you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he'll hug you and curl himself up around your body, like a dragon protecting his treasure (which is you).

He would feel so happy and safe at that moment, knowing you two were together, so intimate, so close. It was a joy he'd never felt before, and he'd hope that he could feel this way with you every morning. He'd nuzzle his face into your neck at the thought.

All of this, in turn, would wake you up, suddenly feeling so much physical contact over your body. Noticing you had awakened, Malleus' eyes would soften with tenderness as you faced him, and they met with yours.

"Good morning, my love," he'd whisper with a sweet smile. "How are you feeling?" he'd ask, bringing his hand down to rub circles on your hip. He remembers how intensely he had given all his love to you the night before and hopes that it didn't cause too much of a consequence this morning.

After greeting him back and reassuring him that everything was okay, though your hips really would feel a little sore, he'd sigh with relief. "I'm glad. Forgive me if I was too rough," he'd cup your cheek with his other hand and gently press his lips onto yours. "I simply couldn't... hold myself back", he breathed out with a slight, sultry tone as he recalled the night once again.

Indeed, he couldn't. It had been the first night you two had gotten to one of the highest levels of intimacy, that he couldn't resist giving the entirety of himself in those moments.

And how could he not? Especially with the way you looked at him so lovingly, held him so closely, squeezed him so tightly, and called out for him numerous times that night, it was only right that he reciprocated your fervor and the intense love you were giving. It was the same way he felt for you, after all.

Just thinking of it was making him feel much hotter than he already was, and you'd feel the peak of that warmth pressing up against you.

This would earn a small blush from him but a big smile from you, as you would ask him if he'd like for you to take care of it.

And so you two would go on to take care of each other that morning, the first of many mornings such as this ;)

a/n: it feels good to write again! Maybe I'll make an explicit smutty part two of this 👀 y'all lmk in the comments if you guys would like that :> i just love writing for this precious guy 🥺

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[simplyraeblue]

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ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP !femreader x !virginshoto you've had a crush on your friend shoto for a long time, and unbeknownst to you he's been crushing as well. not only that, he wants you to be his first time; for everything WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing, fluff, suggestive, shoto is kind of a simp word count: 2,707 A/N: oopsy daisy real quick short post because I couldn't help myself and the idea of sweet shoto wouldn't leave my brain... little cutesy filler part before they hit home base (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ also I was listening to The Archer x Not Strong Enough while writing this... linked here if you want to listen while you read!

part one | part two | part three |

part four | part five

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you were desperate to ignore the incessant barrage of notifications from Mina. just moments ago, you had dragged yourself off your feet, finally collapsing onto the couch after a grueling day. the minute you sank into the cushions, your phone erupted with a flood of calls and text messages. exhaustion weighed on you heavily, and each buzz and ping felt like an assault on your already depleted energy. it wasn’t until the hundredth call that you finally gave in and answered.

“what do you want, Mina? I’m absolutely wiped out,” you groaned, trying to inject a note of humor into your voice despite how drained you felt.

Mina’s voice came through the receiver with an overly enthusiastic tone, almost too cheerful for your weary brain to handle. “get dressed up; we’re going to a fancy restaurant!”

you sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes in frustration. “did you not just hear me say I’m exhausted? I have zero energy left, and honestly, I’d rather not spend any more money right now.”

Mina’s response was an impatient tsk, filled with exasperation. “I don’t care how tired you are or what you want. put on something fancy and forget about the cost. be ready by seven-thirty, or I’m coming over there to drag you out myself.”

you wanted to argue more, but the stubborn resolve in Mina's voice told you this was a battle you wouldn’t win. plus, deep down, you knew she was right. maybe a change of scenery and some good company was exactly what you needed to recharge. with a resigned sigh, you checked the time on your phone—it was already past six.

“fine, fine. I’ll be ready,” you grumbled, hoping your tone conveyed the minimal enthusiasm you felt.

“great!” Mina replied with an exaggerated cheerfulness. “see you soon!”

you hung up and stared at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone. despite your fatigue, you found a sliver of motivation. you stood up, stretched, and began to rummage through your closet. picking out a sleek dress and a pair of heels that hadn’t seen the light of day in months, you couldn’t help but feel a small spark of excitement. maybe this would be a good distraction after all.

as you prepared yourself, you tried to push aside the lingering thoughts of your long day. you opted for minimal makeup and a quick hairstyle, focusing on just enough to look presentable without draining what little energy you had left. by the time you checked the clock again, it was nearly seven-thirty.

just as you were about to head out the door, you heard an unexpected knock. you’d assumed Mina would just text you the address and meet you there. curious and a bit puzzled, you opened the door and started to say, “Mina, I promise I’m ready—”

but it wasn’t Mina standing there. instead, Shoto was at your doorstep, impeccably dressed in a sharp black suit. he held a bouquet of flowers, the rich colors and delicate petals contrasting with his formal attire.

“apologies for letting mina trick you,” Shoto said, his voice gentle and warm as he offered you a reassuring smile. “I wanted this to be a surprise.”

“Shoto, what’s going on?” you asked, your confusion mingling with a touch of excitement as you accepted the flowers, your cheeks flushing at the unexpected and thoughtful gesture.

“I’m taking you on a proper date,” Shoto replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. he extended his arm toward you, a subtle invitation. “I figured it was about time, especially considering the… less conventional things we’ve been up to.”

you stared at Shoto for a moment, your mind racing to process what was happening. the bouquet in your hands felt surprisingly heavy, its fragrance filling the air with a sweetness that contrasted with the formal setting.

“a proper date?” you echoed, trying to reconcile this unexpected turn of events with the casual plans you had made with mina.

“yes,” Shoto affirmed, his tone steady and sincere. “I wanted to do something special, something more meaningful. and mina kindly agreed to help with the surprise.”

you took a deep breath, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbling up inside you. “this is… really unexpected. but also, kind of amazing.”

Shoto’s smile widened, and he gently took your hand, guiding you out the door. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve been looking forward to this. let’s make it a night to remember.”

as you walked down the stairs and into the cool evening air, you glanced back at your apartment, feeling a mix of disbelief and anticipation. Shoto’s presence was reassuring, his calm demeanor helping to ease your lingering fatigue. he led you to a sleek, black car parked by the curb, its polished surface reflecting the city lights.

“where are we going?” you asked as he opened the car door for you, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“it’s a surprise,” he said with a playful glint in his eye. “but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

you settled into the plush leather seat, watching as Shoto got in beside you and started the engine. the car glided smoothly through the city streets, and you found yourself enjoying the rare luxury of simply being present in the moment.

Shoto made small talk as he drove, his voice soothing and easy to listen to. he talked about the restaurant he had chosen, the dishes they were famous for, and the ambiance he hoped you would appreciate. the conversation flowed effortlessly, and you could feel the genuine interest and care behind his words.

when you finally arrived at the restaurant, it was even more beautiful than you had imagined. the elegant exterior was bathed in soft, warm light, and the interior exuded an atmosphere of refined sophistication. Shoto guided you inside, where you were greeted by a host and shown to a private table with a stunning view of the city skyline.

“Shoto, this is insane,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed out the window. the city below sparkled like a sea of stars, the lights stretching out as far as the eye could see. the extent of it all hit you suddenly, making you acutely aware of just how much effort and expense this must have entailed. “you didn’t have to go all out like this. I would’ve been perfectly happy with something more… quaint.”

Shoto extended his hand across the table, his touch gentle yet reassuring as he clasped yours. his smile was soft and genuine, a look of quiet pride in his eyes. “I wanted to do this. for you.”

throughout the evening, Shoto’s attentiveness and thoughtfulness made you feel cherished and valued. the meal was exquisite, each course a culinary delight, and the conversation never faltered. as the night progressed, you realized that Shoto’s surprise was not just about the setting or the food but about the effort he had put into making this night special for you.

by the end of the evening, as you sat back and savored the last of your dessert, you felt a deep sense of contentment. Shoto reached across the table, taking your hand in his once more.

“there’s actually another reason I planned this night with you, y/n,” Shoto said, his voice a bit hesitant. he lifted your hand gently, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. as he pulled away, you noticed a faint pink hue spreading across his cheeks, a blush that made him even more endearing.

“okay, now you’re gonna make me worry,” you joked lightly, trying to ease the tension with a playful laugh. but his nervous gulp made your own anxiety spike, and a flutter of unease began to settle in your stomach.

“I… shit, I don’t know how to put this,” Shoto murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to find the right words. he turned his eyes to the sprawling cityscape outside, and you felt a pang of anxiety, your heart racing in your chest. “I care about you, quite a lot.”

“I care a lot about you too, Sho,” you responded softly, hoping to reassure him. his eyes met yours again, filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

“I’m sure this might feel very sudden, and maybe a tad rushed,” Shoto continued, his voice trembling slightly. he squeezed your hand with a tenderness that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “but, after all these years of having a crush on you, and the past few weeks of growing closer, I think… no, I know I’m falling in love with you, y/n.”

the room seemed to hold its breath as Shoto’s words hung in the air. you could feel the weight of his confession pressing gently against your heart, and the enormity of the moment made your mind swirl with a mix of emotions.

for a moment, you were silent, processing the depth of what he had just shared. Shoto’s fingers still rested lightly around yours, his gaze searching yours with a blend of hope and trepidation.

“I… wow,” you finally said, your voice soft and trembling with emotion. “I had no idea you felt this way.”

Shoto’s cheeks reddened further, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t want to rush things or make you feel pressured. I just needed you to know how I really feel.”

you took a deep breath, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for him. the realization that he had been holding these feelings for so long, and that he had chosen this special evening to reveal them, made your heart swell.

“I’ve been feeling the same way,” you confessed, your voice gaining strength. “I didn’t know how to say it either, but I’ve been falling for you too, Shoto.”

a look of pure relief and joy spread across his face, and he squeezed your hand once more, his eyes sparkling. “really? you mean that?”

“yes,” you nodded, smiling through the tears that had formed in your eyes. “I mean it. I’ve been feeling this way for a while, but I didn’t want to rush things either.”

Shoto’s expression softened into a tender smile, and he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page,” he murmured. “I want to take things at a pace that feels right for both of us. I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me.”

you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness and the sincerity of the moment. “I want that too,” you whispered, your heart full of hope and happiness. “let’s see where this takes us.”

as you both leaned across the table, your lips yearning to mold against his, Shoto suddenly smirked and broke the moment. “hopefully to home base,” he joked, the playful glint in his eyes causing you to snort with laughter. his smirk widened as he heard your reaction, and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a hearty laugh that was both infectious and endearing.

as Shoto continued laughing, you felt a wave of boldness and excitement. standing up from your chair, you made your way around the table, feeling a sense of exhilaration that made you disregard the curious glances from other diners. with a determined stride, you leaned in close to his ear, your breath warm and tickling his skin. “let’s take this special evening home, shall we?” you whispered, and you could almost sense the shiver of anticipation that ran through his body.

Shoto’s reaction was immediate—his face flushed with a deep, embarrassed pink. this wasn’t the end goal for him tonight, not by any measure. he wanted you to understand that his confession was heartfelt and sincere, and he hoped you knew that it wasn’t just a pretext to move things forward physically.

“I—seriously?” Shoto asked, his voice dropping to a low, almost incredulous murmur. you could see the nervousness flickering in his eyes, and it only made you more determined. reaching out, you offered him your hand with a reassuring smile, trying to convey your genuine affection and support.

“unless you don’t want to make a home run?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. Shoto’s reaction was immediate and comical—he stood up from his chair with such urgency that he almost knocked it over. “wow there, eager are we?” you laughed, watching as he fumbled slightly, trying to regain his composure.

“if you keep teasing me, we’re not making it back to your apartment,” Shoto groaned, his voice tinged with frustration and amusement. he pulled you gently towards him, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. as he lingered there for a moment, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, making your heart race. “I’d hate to have to take you in my car,” he added with a playful edge, clearly struggling to keep his own excitement in check.

his warning tease almost came true, because when you two made it to the car he nudged you against the side of the vehicle, letting his hands roam a little too much for the public as he kissed you fervently.

you would’ve let him take you in the car, white hot desire burning inside of you so quickly that you felt like you’d die if you didn’t have him on top of you.

even when you made it back to your apartment, you both barely made it in the door as he started pawing at your dress. Shoto had to restrain himself from ripping the tight fabric that fit so well around your ass, thinking he needed to try and remain as gentlemanly as possible.

you became a tangle of limbs as his lips met yours, hungry and needy, the two of you stumbling your bedroom. you guided him to sit on the edge of the bed before you started to work on the buttons of his shirt, sliding it over his shoulders and discarding it on the floor.

Shoto could only watch in awe as you stepped back, slowly working on the zipper of your dress (thank god you chose one with a side zipper), before letting it drop to the ground.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n,” Shoto whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. his gaze remained locked on yours, though he clearly wanted to let his eyes wander over your now exposed skin. he had seen you like this before, sure, but it never failed to take his breath away, each time more intense than the last.

you settled yourself on his lap, your body fitting comfortably against his. a soft, tender smile played on your lips as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his mouth. “you make me breathless, Sho,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “absolutely, and utterly, starstruck.”

Shoto’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the kiss before pulling away slightly. his gaze was dreamy, half-lidded with a wide, affectionate grin spreading across his face. “will you be mine?” he asked, his voice filled with earnest desire. “call me your boyfriend, and I’ll call you my girlfriend. we’ll make our friends sick with pda, go on dates all the time, and I promise I’ll treat you like a princess. we can cook together, sleep together, do everything you want to do. I’ll follow you, I’d follow you anywhere.”

your heart swelled with emotion at his heartfelt words. overwhelmed by the depth of his promise, you kissed him deeply, pouring all your passion into the embrace. the kiss was intense, a shared declaration of the love and commitment you both felt. “that sounds perfect to me, boyfriend,” you whispered, the term feeling both exhilarating and right as it fell from your lips.

the moment you said the words, shoto’s arms wrapped around you tightly and flipped the two of you so that you laid bare underneath him.

“can I make love to you, girlfriend?” Shoto’s face was pink with lust and emotions, and his gaze was filled with a deep desire that made you feel like the only girl in the world.

“yes, Shoto.”

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Link to Bakugo x reader here

(word count: 2,328)

Link to Kirishima x reader here

(word count: 902)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ taglist: @ellielover69 thank you so much for all your support! if you'd like to be added to the taglist send a request in my inbox! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[schemmentigfs]

can i request a fluff one shot where reader has to go on a trip (either for work or family reasons) and melissa meets them at the airport when they arrive back and is just super domestic once back at their shared apartment 🥺🥺

In the Quiet of Absence.

Summary: After spending a month in Paris for a work conference, you finds yourself longing for the warmth of home and, more than anything, for Melissa.

Tags: @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota <3

You sink into the plush hotel bed, a sigh escaping your lips as you look out at the city lights glimmering against the Parisian skyline. It’s breathtaking—no doubt about that—but after almost a month, even the magic of Paris can't dull the ache you feel right now.

“God, I miss her so much…” you mutter to yourself, rubbing your temple as you glance around the luxurious room.

Your right hand drifts to the nightstand, fingers brushing over your phone. Without thinking, you pick it up, your thumb tracing over Melissa’s name. You can picture her asleep back home, curled up in bed, her auburn hair spilling across the pillow, maybe even with little Sweet Cheeks nestled at her chest. The thought brings a goofy but genuine grin to your lips as you press ‘record voicemail.’

With the phone cradled in your hand, you start speaking quietly, as if she could somehow hear you through the miles of the ocean.

“Good night, Lis. I know you won’t see this until morning since you’re probably fast asleep right now. Paris is... well, it’s Paris. Beautiful, busy, a little overwhelming. Everyone says how lucky I am to be here, but honestly, it just makes me miss you more. I walked by a café today, and I kept thinking how nice it would be to sit there with you, sipping coffee, people-watching, maybe listening to you rant about the tourists. It’s just not the same without you here to share it with.”

Sighing softly, you add. “I spent the day at the conference, and honestly, I found myself daydreaming about our couch and Sweet Cheeks curled up between us. I wish you could’ve seen the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower. You would’ve loved it. I tried to take some pictures, but they just don’t do it justice.”

As you keep talking about the conference through voicemail, the people you’ve met, and the places you’ve seen, you can’t help but let your thoughts drift to home.

Home.

It’s hard being so far from home, but even harder being far from her. Paris might be beautiful, a dream city for most, but without Melissa next to you, it feels empty, just walls and skies. You’d flown here for work, a month-long conference that was supposed to be exhilarating, a stepping stone in your writing career. And while there’s been value in it, each day is a little heavier than the last. Every stroll past the Eiffel Tower, every quiet hotel room evening, only reminds you of how much you miss the life you share with her.

You’d never imagined how hard it would be to be apart from her. Sure, you two had spent nights apart before, but a whole month? It was almost unbearable. You miss everything about her—her laugh, the way she fills the room with her warm, unfiltered energy, and the little things she does just to make you smile. It’s like there's a part of you that just isn't here, and every day, that longing grows heavier.

Everything here felt too polished, too perfect. You missed the little imperfections that made life with the second grade teacher so damn beautiful. How Melissa would wrap her arms around you in the mornings, still groggy from sleep. Her face when she’d forget where she put her reading glasses only for you to find them perched on her head, or the way she’d tease over making the perfect cup of coffee each morning. The way she would immediately fuss over your packing, making sure you had everything you needed, and the soft hum of her voice as she reassured you that everything would be just fine while you were away.

Home was with Melissa Schemmenti, and every part of you ached to be there.

Your girlfriend’s voice on the phone helps – her late-night calls about what went wrong at Abbott Elementary that day, the accent you love laced with the warmth of home. “Mon amour,” you’d whisper into the phone during one of your daily conversations, a term of endearment that wraps around both your hearts, even across the miles. But her voice isn’t enough, not when you’re used to seeing her every night, sharing meals, her touch grounding you in a way nothing else can.

With a gruff, you close your laptop, packing away notes you’d barely read. That’s when you hear the knock on your door, breaking the silence.

“Bonsoir, madame,” one of the hotel staff says politely when you respond. “Dinner is ready downstairs in the lobby.”

“Merci, je serai là dans cinq minutes.” Your answer is quick, almost robotic. Despite enjoying the culinary wonders of the place, you can’t help but prefer the meals of a specific redhead who knows everything about cooking and Italian cuisine.

“Pas étonnant, si vous avez besoin d’autre chose, nous sommes à votre disposition.”

You thank them with a smile, but you’re already glancing at your phone, at the time difference that keeps you apart, counting down the days – just three more – until you’re back in her arms.

Back at the bedroom, after finishing dinner, you’re restless. As much as the meal was filling, your thoughts are back at home with her. You finish up the small dessert in your room, the excitement building to be back in her arms, in the life you’ve built together. The night stretches on, a quiet contrast to the bustling city outside, and your sleep feels even further away.

You slip beneath the covers, staring at the ceiling as the quiet surrounds you. Sleep eludes you as memories of the older woman flood your mind—her lavender smell, the comfort of her presence. Everything.

“Just three more days,” you repeated the phrase, over and over again. Feeling like a mantra.

Closing your eyes, the loneliness is creeping in again, but the thought of returning keeps you anchored, making the distance feel just a little bit smaller.

It won’t be long now.

Back in Philadelphia, Melissa is dealing with her own form of aching loneliness. She’d thought she could handle a month without you; after all, she’d done it before. But the days had dragged on longer than expected, and each night without you next to her was another reminder of how deeply entwined you both were.

The redhead’s days are packed with the usual chaos at Abbott Elementary, but somehow it doesn’t quite fill the space you left behind. She comes home to an empty apartment that feels colder without the warmth of your laughter echoing through it. Sweet Cheeks, her classroom guinea pig, has become an unlikely companion, curled up in a little cage by her couch. She started bringing him home on weekends, claiming it was to keep the kids excited for Monday mornings. But if she were being honest with herself, she liked the company—even if it was just a ball of fur and squeaks. Sweet Cheeks always listened to her rants about the day, his tiny, twitching nose and big eyes a small comfort in your absence.

She talks to him about you sometimes, about the things she knows you’re seeing in Paris. “She’s probably at some fancy shit right now, buddy,” she mutters, throwing him a piece of lettuce as she leans back on the couch. “Probably complaining about how boring those rich dumbasses are.”

Melissa had never really considered herself to be sentimental. She was tough, independent, and good at taking care of herself. But after so many years of you two being together, this past month had taught her just how much you’d become her home. She finds herself missing the little things—your goodnight kisses, the way you leave your books stacked messily by the bed, the warmth of your hand reaching for hers whenever you pass each other in the kitchen.

She sighs and reaches for her phone, scrolling through your photos, lingering on the ones you’ve sent her from Paris. There’s one of you smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower, looking radiant with the city’s lights sparkling behind you. She can’t help but smile, even if her chest aches. “God, you’re beautiful,” she whispers, running a thumb over the screen. The animal lets out a small squeak, almost as if he’s in agreement, and she chuckles. “Yeah, champ. I’m the luckiest gal in Philly, huh?”

Her phone buzzes with a voicemail notification, and her heart jumps a little. It’s your voice, soft and intimate, filling the quiet of her apartment as you talk about your day. You talk about the conference, the view from the Eiffel Tower, and how much you wish she were there. The familiar sound of your voice brings an ache to her chest, but it also fills her with a sense of peace.

She presses the phone close to her heart once your message ends, letting out a shaky sigh. “Just three more days,” she says to herself, mirroring your own anxiety. She settles back into the couch, Sweet Cheeks nestled beside her, as she listens to your message one more time, the sound of your voice helping her feel just a little closer to you.

The nights for your girlfriend are the hardest. She lies awake, staring at the ceiling, longing for the warmth of your body beside her. Sometimes, she’ll grab the spare pillow, pulling it close to her chest as if it could somehow substitute for your presence. She buries her face into it, breathing deeply, as if she can still catch a faint trace of your scent.

She’s tough, but she’s not ashamed to admit that she’s counting down the hours until you come back.

When Saturday morning rolls around, Melissa stands by the sink, her sleeves pushed up, humming a soft tune as she washes the breakfast dishes. Sunlight filters gently through the curtains, casting a cozy glow over the kitchen and giving her that familiar sense of home she craves more than anything right now. Sweet Cheeks squeaks from his spot on the counter, and she reaches over, giving him a gentle scratch.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Mama will be back soon, okay?”

Just as the green eyed woman was about to finish the last dish, her phone rang. Seeing your name, Her heart skipped, her fingers fumbling with the dish towel as she hurriedly picked up.

“Hey, amore mio,” she greeted, her voice soft and warm, as if she hadn’t heard from you in months, though it had only been a few days.

“Hey, Lissa! Guess what?” you said, excitement bubbling through the phone.

She grinned, already thrilled just hearing your voice. “What? Tell me!”

“I’ll be back tomorrow!”

Melissa let out a little laugh, caught between disbelief and pure joy. “Shit, really? Tomorrow? I missed you so much!” The words escaped her before she could hold back. She looked down, feeling a bit silly for how much she’d let herself miss you.

Sweet Cheeks, catching onto her excitement, squeaked louder at his feet, little paws tapping against the kitchen counter as though to join in. “See, even Sweet Cheeks missed you,” your girlfriend joked. “I think he’s been going nuts without his other mama.”

You laughed on the other end, and Melissa felt warmth spread through her. She didn’t want to admit it outright, but it had been a long, lonely few days without you, the routine things—the cooking, the tidying, even sitting on the couch—felt empty without you there.

“Well, you just hold tight. Tomorrow, we’ll make up for lost time,” you replied, and she could practically feel your smile through the call.

“That’s perfect. Love you, hon.”

“Love you more.”

After you hung up, Melissa wandered to the bedroom, feeling a deep swell of emotions, her fingers brushing over her pocket where a small, carefully hidden velvet box lay. She’d been carrying it around for days, checking it repeatedly, rehearsing the words she wanted to say once you were home again. The plan was all there—she’d wait for a quiet Sunday morning, like the ones she cherished so much, and then she’d ask.

Unable to resist, she pulled one of your shirts from the closet, bringing it close to her nose. The faint scent of you clung to it, bringing her right back to those lazy Sunday mornings that had become her favorite part of your life together.

She let herself imagine it: you, padding out of bed with only your underwear on, your hair a mess and your eyes still heavy with sleep as you’d pull her into a hug from behind. Every time, she’d grumble a bit, pretending she wasn’t as soft as she actually felt in those moments. You’d tug her back into bed with you, insisting on snuggling under the covers while she made her usual complaints about wanting to get up and start the day.

But truthfully, she loved being wrapped up in your arms as the little spoon. She felt a rare kind of safety there, the weight of your arms around her, the warmth of your chest against her back. She’d pretend to make a bad face, grumbling softly, but she’d inevitably relax, letting out the soft snores you always teased her about later.

And then, just when everything felt perfectly peaceful, Sweet Cheeks would start squeaking from the foot of the bed, weaving around your legs in hopes of an early morning cuddle.

Melissa smiled to herself, clutching the shirt close as she pictured the day ahead, wondering how you’d react when you saw her there, waiting to welcome you home—and how your face would look when she finally asked the question she’d been holding in her heart.

The next day, after what felt like an eternity, she drove to the airport, her heart racing with every step. When she finally spotted you through the crowd, her heart just about burst. She didn’t hold back, rushing over and pulling you into a tight hug, her face buried in your shoulder.

“I missed you so much.”

You held her just as tightly, murmuring, “Missed you too, Mel. So, so much.”

As you made your way back to the apartment, your laughter filled the car, and Melissa soaked in every second of it, feeling like the pieces of her world had finally fallen back into place.

Once home, she proudly led you to the kitchen, where she had your favorite meal prepared and ready, the smell of marinara sauce filling the space. Sweet Cheeks squeaked in delight at the sight of you, and you scooped him up, letting him nuzzle against you in greeting.

After dinner, you settled on the couch together, wrapped up in each other, your sweet guinea pig resting contentedly in his popsicle stick home nearby. The redhead leaned into you, her heart racing again as she reached into her pocket, fingers brushing over the small box.

She took a deep breath, turning to you with all the love she’d been waiting to share. “I know it’s just us, and this fella,” she said softly, glancing down with a shy smile. “But… I couldn’t imagine my life without you. So, I was thinking, maybe… we could make this forever?”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti, what are you doing?” you gasp confused, while blinking.

She cleared her thoart and kneeled down. “Y/N. Will you marry me?”

Your eyes widened as she pulled out the box, revealing the ring she’d been carrying. In that moment, with tears in your eyes, you nodded, pulling her close in an embrace filled with all the quiet love and warmth that had defined your life together.

And as the night wore on, Melissa held you close, feeling finally, deeply at home.

[edlucavalden]

Im too exausted for proper(ish) essays, but im so crazy over this scene. i can't contain myself

TW for: S/A !!! (For the nature of the writing and well—the scene itself)

He's confused at first. he doesn't know what is going on. This slight pause isn't because he's scared or frozen but to assess the situation. After all It was kinda sudden.

All he doesn't like this feeling. he feels uncomfortable and that some sort of boundry has been breached. But he hasn't fully processed it yet.

And right before he fully comprehends and does something about it—

He suddenly becomes compliant?

It's like he forgot what he was gonna do—like He loses the motivation to enforce his boundaries.

he still feels uncomfortable. that doesn't change. But he isnt aware of that. Well, that makes sense... since he never really did fully process what was happening. It's like he lost the will to care about or process it.

This panel. Christ... Thistle finally builds up the power to say stop. It's weak—confused and disoriented. I dont think it's even directed to anything specifically. Its intentions are vague.

But god... and the lion's response? Reassurance. how he can't help it, he needs this to live, he's been waiting for so long—oh, and don't worry, I'll take care of you.

It's just so chilling after this.

Thistle's powerless, weak, and complaicent. It's out of character for thistle. This entire scene is. However It's still thistle. His behavior and actions are his own, and for me that's the terrifying part.

This wasn't... Forced? There's no fighting and thrashing— Its just a complete submission. he reacted yeah but he didn't resist. he didn't fight back even if he had the ability to (we know bc he has, for 1000 years in fact). The lion didn't directly force him either. It didn't violently force him to have its way. But it's still violating. And that's the thing; the assult wasnt violent, but passive.

Hi guys just to reiterate that I did NOT mean to say that sexual cohesion is not an act of force. this part is ment reiterate that it "wasn't forced" in the sterotypical way of resisting, i followed it up by saying that it is still violating despite that and i emhasized that idea in the parts after that,. This part (more so the entire work in general) is ment to emphasize the passive yet transgressive nature of cohesion. i SINCERELY apologize if that was the message that was interpreted from that part. I did not intend it to mean that way.

The demon has slowly but surely torn down thistle's sense of self so much it turned him into a completely different person. Like his identity was shattered and rebuilt to submit.

It starts small, building up the situation, taking away his desire to resist and enforce his boundaries, then it gives a rose tinted explanation of what is happening. Finally, it comforts and praises him. This is what gives thistle the illusion of choice, a passive way of getting him vulnerable.

You can see how it affected him vividly through this part. it's like he forgets what he was fighting for. He forgets his boundaries, his identity, the things he cares about, everything. It's being ripped away from him.

Thistle never stood a chance.

It wasn't his fault he submitted. It was the demon's for putting him in that state. His complaicency is due to the fact that he had no power for any other way.

it never mattered that thistle never fought back. Even if he did fight back or didn't, even if he succeeded or not—what then? it would never change the demon's nature. One who seeks consumption will always consume. In other words; it will always find a way.

I honestly dont think it was the demon's intention to harm thistle. It's selfish but not moralisticly evil (nothing ever is). It seeks fulfillment and not suffering. But its blind pursuit for satisfaction caused suffering, That's what makes it malicious. It doesn't matter if he intented or was aware of it or not. the demon benefited from something that could harm him and did it despite that. And that will never change.

[hauntedrain]

F1 Drivers First Date Headcanons .ೃ࿐

✧*̥˚ Includes Charles, Max, and Oscar. *̥˚✧

✮▹A/N: IT'S BEEN FOREVER, and to be fair I didn't write this recently, it's been in my drafts. but I hope it's okay for now. I've been having a writing block for a long time and haven't had inspo to write anything. I can make more parts if requested.

✰▹Warnings/Notices: maybe unrealistic a bit, honestly kinda a shit post, fr tho not anything mad just fluff. NOT EDITED, NOT PROOFREAD.

Charles Leclerc ⋆୨୧˚

would definitely be really worried about the date. Not that he's scared about you or anything, but about if he planned the right thing, picked the right outfit, or something along those lines. He just wants to make a good "first impression".

He would be Facetiming/texting Pierre or Arthur every 10 minutes for confirmation and reassurance. "Be honest, do these pants make me look stupid. I can't have her thinking I'm stupid, and can't properly dress myself." He asks while fixing his hair for the 100th time on Facetime. " Charlie, if you're calling me this much then maybe, just maybe... You can't dress yourself properly." "Not funny, but for real. Is this fine?"

He would probably get even more nervous as he meets up with you or picks you up like would be messing with his bracelets, blushing or sheepishly smiling a lot. But after a while, he would calm down and get more confident being around you and talking to you.

He probably asks himself how he was even able to ask you out in the first place considering how nervous he is right now.

For the date idea, he would really want it to be something that you would enjoy. He would message you or ask your friends what your favorite things are and things to do.

Max Verstappen ✧.*

I think he would be more collected when talking about first dates, however, he would still be nervous about certain things. Would it go well? Is the only reason you like him for his title? What if it's really awkward?

But by the time he's there and starts talking to you those worries fade away and he starts to open up more and be more him. He would definitely not be able to keep a smile off his face after that.

I think the first date you guys would have is just talking over dinner, nothing too crazy, but he also wouldn't want to plan something boring so maybe you guys would do something afterward. Like a walk around a park or going into small stores on the way home? Idk but something that wouldn't just be a simple dinner.

I feel like during the first date, if he doesn't already know you, he tries to get to know you well. He wouldn't just be asking questions like "What your favorite color?", "Favorite season?", etc. Not that its inherently wrong to want to know but he wants something different, like knowing a deep passion or dream of yours. Or even memories and moments throughout your life. Something deeper.

Oscar Piastri *ೃ༄

I think he would want to do something more casual as a first date. Something like a picnic or going to a cafe. But at the end of the day if you just wanted a dinner somewhere he would be fine with that too.

I don't feel like he would be nervous like others are nervous for first dates, he would be more nervous about just going out and doing things than if the actual date goes well.

Like not freaking out about what to wear, or first impressions, but worrying if this is the right thing to do, or if the date plan was enough (kind of like how Charles cares about what the date was for you.)

Maybe brings a few flowers or something small, especially if you guys already knew each other. He would try a nice gesture but nothing to crazy, just something sweet and simple.

⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: It's been FOREVER since I posted actual writing. I apologize if this makes no sense or is stupid, this has been in my drafts forever and I never really went back over it before now. I've been out of ideas so plz request something! I will literally write for anyone about anything (in reason)

[themoonsbeloved]

I still need help

Its now the 8th of January and despite being told by my friend who spoke with her boss 3 weeks ago during their meeting that he was to hire me in the beginning of January and would reach out to me, he hasn't. I'm hoping somehow, eventually, when this man finally bothers to, he will contact me for a job offer since he reassured me back in november that he still intends to hire me. But since I have no idea when that will be, that means I'm left hanging completely.

long story short I am mentally ill and disabled who was dismissed from my last and only job that I struggled 2 years to get, only to be fired in 2 months in June because of my chronic fatigue and abusive managers. I rely a lot on my henna but bookings are not consistent enough to make regular income, and majority of the money ends up going to contributing to house bills for my family.

My therapy picks up again this week, very honestly been the only thing keeping me from harming myself at this point with how painful life has been and I want to be able to continue getting it low cost (£25 per session), my therapist is so amazing and we recently came to the understanding that I have complex-PTSD, and plan to look into it more this year. I'm too mentally ill to try and look for jobs right now and am basically doing 3 jobs already (one being joint caring duties with family members for my grandparents since I live with them, which I'm not paid for obviously) with inconsistent money coming in/sessional work that I will be paid for once completed further into the year.

I have so many other costs that are coming in the near future, like paying for more medication, and for more lazer hair removal sessions for my severe hirsutism, which usually is around £300 if I'm lucky to catch offers. This is another I thing I mentally can't afford to stop doing, struggling with severe hirsutism and the trauma of it all my life means its important I can feel and live somewhat comfortably in my body. Lazer hair isn't permanent and I'm looking into electrolysis, but again, I don't have that money yet and would prefer to not leave a huge gap where I don't do lazer and the mental torture of watching my body hair grow back. I also haven't gotten my eyes checked in over 3 years, and know I will need a change in perscription and need new glasses. I hate nothing more than what its come to. I'm just exhausted and burnt out from the constant anxiety and depressive episodes, I'm barely eating or sleeping, I'm sick of everything and everyone and I just wish god would give me a break.

With all of the above in mind I'm aiming for about £600. This is all basically to help me just function and continue getting the things that help me not succumb to my mental health issues. If anything, my birthday's coming up in feb so I would appreciate it if folks gave some money if they have the means to. Anything is fine at this point.

Thank you so much

https://paypal.me/iffiia?country.x=GB&locale.x=en_GB

£0/£600

[stupidlittlespirit]

Ahh so I’m the same Anon that sent the College!Ford sarcastic praise ask!!! I’m so glad you liked my little blurb, I absolutely loved Freaks and was high-key thinking about it when I came up with that praise idea! I absolutely love how you write Ford, and I’m honestly so hyped for any of your other writing projects! Very excited for the cabin one 💓

I’ve also got another praise suggestion! (If your still open to receiving them that is 🙈)

Ok this premises a little wild, but hear me out. Reader and Ford accidentally swap bodies (probably from the Carpet Diem carpet) and since this would be a post-portal/post-Weirdmageddon!Ford, seeing his body being controlled by someone else just, initially brings back bad memories. Reader who only has limited knowledge about what Ford experienced with Bill, takes this as an opportunity to show Ford’s body kindness.

Reader would just dote over Ford, admiring themselves as him and reassuring Ford that they would never harm his body, they care too much about him to ever consider doing that.

As Reader showers Ford with praise, they note how strong he is as a person, (because Reader can literally feel all of Ford’s aches and pains he accumulated over the years.) Reader goes on about how Ford’s body is truly a marvel, hands absolutely included (I can see Reader getting very deep and passionate about genes and the human body, and just how amazing Ford’s hands are; how its rare for someone to be born with fully functional polydactyly, on both hands no less!)

And Ford (in Readers body) is just…at a loss for words? Ford is just so unfamiliar with receiving earnest, soft appreciation he doesn’t know how to respond or act in this situation, it’s admittedly, a little odd for him to see himself…love himself? Ford is just so use to either being fairly dismissive of his own body, or feeling shame over his hands. So him hearing someone truly love and respect those things about him?! Has Ford absolutely floored

lol idk if this premise is…a little weird? But I thought it could be a cute supernatural trust activity?!? lol

OH ANON now this is cinema!

Don't ever apologise for getting weird with it, that's what I'm all about. The weirder the better!

This is so fucking cute and unique.

Under the cut as always:

I think the idea that Ford has chronic pain fits this really nicely too because yeah, imagine swapping bodies with this guy and being like '....damn bitch, you live like this?' I have it myself and I know that shit sucks.

The moment you swap you're initially just left reeling by the immediate physical sensations: how absolutely starving he is, how exhausted and low-energy he is. He's sore and tender in spots you've never even considered before and there's not even any indication for the cause of the pain, either. It's almost phantom in nature. And when you bring it up, Ford is very much like "yeah but hey, that's old age, right? Totally normal! Painkillers are for the weak!" and Reader is just flabbergasted by it.

Ford being utterly overbearing as he watches you pilot him around, telling you what to do with his body and getting frustrated with the fact that you're not treating him the way he does himself because he's right about everything, it's always been that way and he's functioning just fine, thank you very much.

I can see Reader righting all the wrongs regardless of Ford's insistence that he's fine, too, no matter how pissy he gets about it. Like no, we're gonna sit your ass down and eat this meal, we're going to take an hour long bath and get the dirt out from under your nails.

The concept that he's so afraid you'll deface and abuse his body like Bill did without even realising he's been doing the same thing to himself for years.

And yeah, Reader complimenting all of Ford's being in a way that's much deeper than god you're fucking hot. The way he looks, his scars and his tattoos, his perfectly average physique, all of it. I think his hands would take some getting used to as well. Having six fingers when you're only used to five would probably be kind of hard to work with at first? Forgetting to give yourself enough space to move them when reaching for something or being a little clumsy when handling stuff. But that doesn't mean they're not marvels in and of themselves, and Reader would be just absolutely taken with them.

Ahhhh you're onto something here anon....

and imagine Ford experiencing arousal in the Reader's body in reaction to the praise and care he's receiving, being fascinated by the difference in sensation. The need he'd have to examine that only to find that- oh hang on, that's really quite nice and actually would you mind fucking him? He's always wondered what it would feel like, hasn't every man?

I could also not resist a 2002 Scooby Doo, Fred Jones-esque 'I can look at myself naked' moment

[ohmyamor]

he’s kinda hot | K.HJ

Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong x reader

Summary: After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn’t crazy. And now you have a demon who refuses to leave you alone. 

w.c. 4.6k

Warnings: fluff, slight angst if you squint, minor character death he’s a dick don’t worry, mentions of blood and icky sounds but nothing is seen directly, suggestive content, cursing, desire hongjoong lives in my mind rent free

There’s something wrong with your boyfriend. 

You first began to notice his odd behavior a little over a month ago, but for the past week, it’s gotten progressively worse. 

What started off as slight jumpiness and anxiety has now turned into full fledged paranoia, to the point where he refuses to ever leave the house, having breakdowns over this ‘person’ who’s after him.

“What do mean you can’t go with me?” You sighed exasperatedly, crossing your arms and staring at the sad excuse of a man standing in front of you. 

A few months ago, you might’ve cared about how tired and worn-down he looked, but now? At this point in your relationship?

You really couldn’t care less. 

“Are you crazy?” Your boyfriend all but shouts at you. 

You feel your jaw clench at his tone.

“Do you know what’ll happen if I go out there?” he continues shouting like a madman. “He’s going to get me! They’re all going to get me! It’s not safe for me out there!” 

There’s a crazed look in his eyes and you feel a slight chill run up your spine. 

You don’t think you want to stick around any longer to find out what his tipping point is going to be. 

“Okay, then stay,” you spit, marching over to the couch to grab your wallet and keys. “Stay here and rot for all I care because you have been nothing but a paranoid piece of shit lately and you refuse to get help.” 

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for this episode or whatever you want to call it,” you wave your hands around, “to end, because I have a life and I am not going to sit around waiting for you to get it together.” 

“So this relationship ends here,” you glare at him. 

“Good luck getting by without anybody who cares about you,” you let the words hang in the air as you walk to the front door and exit the apartment, slamming the door shut behind you. 

Huffing, you shove your wallet and keys into your pocket and begin the trek to the grocery store. 

-

After spending a few hours running errands and killing time, you’ve calmed down significantly. 

You had called your close friend Seonghwa on the way to the market, telling him what had happened between you and your now ex-boyfriend. 

“He sounds crazy,” Seonghwa had said over the phone. 

“I know Hwa, which is why I decided to end it because I refuse to stay in another relationship where the other person expects me to solve all of their problems,” you groaned. 

He hummed over the line. 

“Plus,” you continue. “There was this look, in his eyes and on his face, like he genuinely believed there was something out to get him.” 

Seonghwa is quiet. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It just gave me a really bad feeling and you know how I feel about gut instincts. I’d rather trust myself and be safe than sorry.” 

“Yeah of course. Honestly honey, I think you did the right thing. I never liked him from the beginning, but you were happy and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, but I agree, if you have a bad feeling about something, you should always trust your intuition,” Seonghwa reassures you. 

You let out a small laugh. 

“And don’t worry,” he continues, “You’re an amazing person and a great catch, so it’ll be no time before you have someone else falling at your feet.” 

You roll your eyes. 

Even if he can’t see you, Seonghwa’s known you for long enough to anticipate your habits. 

“Thank you Hwa,” you smile into the phone. 

“Anytime.”

The two of you chatted on for a little bit more after that, with Seonghwa letting you know he always had an extra room in case you needed to crash at his place for a while. 

You thanked him once again but refused his offer. After all, the lease on the apartment was under your name, and you paid most of the bills, so if anyone was going to be leaving, it’s going to be your ex. 

The conversation was definitely much-needed, and after the reassurance that you weren’t crazy for ending your relationship, you felt much more confident to head back to your apartment and kick out the man living there. 

Once you finally made it back to your building, you exited the elevator and walked down the corridor to your apartment door. Taking deep breaths, you began to steel your nerves in order to prepare for whatever breakdown the male might have. 

As you approached your door, you noticed that it looked slightly open. 

You pause in your footsteps, narrowing your eyes to see if the door was truly open or if it’s just a trick of your eyes. 

Dread begins to build in your stomach when you realize that your door is, in fact, open. 

It’s fine, you attempt to reassure yourself in your mind. Maybe he finally got the hint and left. 

Cautiously, you approach the door and push it open with your foot. 

Stepping inside, you notice how eerily quiet it is. 

Normally when you come back from work or running errands, your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself, is doing something to keep himself busy in his self-appointed quarantine. Whether it’s playing a video game or watching T.V., there’s always some kind of noise echoing throughout your small apartment. 

But now, there’s nothing. 

It’s also incredibly dark. 

Dropping the grocery bags onto the floor softly, you reach into your pocket to pull out your keys. You move to the turn on the light switch that’s on the wall, but freeze when you hear whimpering coming from somewhere in the room. 

You opt to not turn on the light, unsure of where the noise is coming from and also slightly terrified of what’s going on. 

You keep one hand on your phone, ready in case you need to call the police.

Quietly and ever so slowly, you make your way to the bedroom where the whimpering noise is coming from. 

The door to your room is slightly ajar, allowing a few rays of light to peek through. On the carpet in the hallway is a dark trail of something. 

You swallow thickly, hoping it’s not what you think it is. 

You stop in front of the bedroom door and strain your ears to listen to the noises coming from the room. With your heart pounding loudly in your chest, you come to the realization that the whimpers are coming from your ex-boyfriend. 

“Now, now, now,” a voice that is certainly not your boyfriend’s rings out. 

“Crying isn’t going to get you anything,” the voice chuckles. “You knew what the price of the deal was, and yet, you still tried to double-cross me.” 

There’s more muffled crying. 

“Silly human,” the voice says sinisterly. 

“Didn’t anybody ever warn you to not make deals with the devil?” 

The sound of flesh being torn reaches your ears along with pained crying, and you feel sick to your stomach when a metallic smell reaches your nose. 

You bring your hands up to cover your mouth to prevent yourself from gagging. You have no clue what you should even do at this point. Whatever’s in there with your ex is either an incredibly deranged human being, or something not even human. 

You don’t want to find out which one it is.

After what feels like forever, the muffled crying stops, and your stomach sinks when you come to realization that your ex might now be dead. 

The person inside the room sighs. 

“Open the door sweetheart.” 

Your blood runs cold. 

Raising a trembling hand, you move to push the door open, bracing yourself for whatever gruesome sight awaits you and whatever monster you’ll see standing in your room. 

Except, you see neither. 

There is no body in your room, nor is there any blood or gruesome mess. 

There’s also certainly no monster. 

Instead, a man sits on a single chair in the middle of the room. 

He has bright red hair and a slightly pointed nose. Jewelry adorns his ears and hands, and he wears a pair of dark dress pants with a white shirt that’s tucked in. His sleeves are rolled up on his arms.

If it weren’t for the small splatters of a red substance on his otherwise pristine shirt, you might’ve thought that what you heard before never happened. 

Your eyes drag over his figure before coming to rest on his face. The two of you make eye contact and a shiver runs down your spine at the wicked smile he sends you. 

“Did you enjoy our little show?”

You say nothing. 

The man sighs and places his hands on his thighs, pushing himself up off the chair. He takes a few steps forward until he stands less than a foot away from you. 

I’m going to die, you think.

I’m going to die a horrible and gruesome death and no one will ever know and i’ll never see my friends again and i’ll never say goodbye to my parents and-

The man chuckles.

“You’re not going to die.” 

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man reaches his hand out to gently grab yours. He bows slightly, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand while maintaining eye contact.

“My name is Hongjoong and I’m the demon who just took care of your pesky little boyfriend problem.” 

-

Was laughing out loud to the man’s, demon’s?, introduction the best choice?

Probably not. 

But you cannot be blamed for your habit of laughing in awkward situations. 

After all, here is this man, who just admitted to killing your ex-boyfriend, introducing himself to you as a demon and also kissing the back of your hand like the two of you were in the 1700′s. 

What sane person would have a normal reaction to that?

As soon as the sound made its way out of your body, your free hand immediately slapped itself over your mouth and your eyes widened in horror. 

If the demon didn’t have any plans on killing you at first, he’s definitely going to now. 

The man doesn’t say anything, simply raising a brow as a small smile takes over his face. 

“I’m glad you found my introduction so amusing sweetheart, but I can assure you, this is certainly real.”

As he said that, you watched in slight horror as his eyes faded from a soft brown color to dark pools of black. Swallowing, you attempt to tug your hand out of the demon’s grasp to try and back away, but his grip only tightens. 

He clicks his tongue and within a fraction of a second, his eyes have returned to brown. 

“Why are you here?” You finally muster up the courage to speak. Despite your attempts to sound even the slightest bit brave, the waver to your voice was obvious. 

Hongjoong sighs, annoyed. 

“That sorry excuse of a man you called your boyfriend was in my debt. I made it clear to him when he made a deal with me what the price would be, and he still attempted to evade me.” He rolled his eyes and for a split second, the demon reminded you of a parent whose child wouldn’t listen. 

“What deal did he make?” You question, your curiosity getting the better of you. 

The demon looks back at you. 

“Nothing that concerns your pretty little self,” he winks. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his actions. 

“Considering you just killed him, I think it’s safe to assume it was a pretty important deal,” you challenge. 

A grin creeps onto Hongjoong’s face. 

“So you have the looks and the brains to accompany it,” his smile widens. 

You try to fight back the heat that was rising to your cheeks. 

Yeah, maybe he’s a demon who killed your ex-boyfriend, but he’s also an incredibly attractive demon who just called you smart and beautiful. Who are you to deny his compliments?

“But,” Hongjoong continues. “If you must know, he wanted to become wealthy and successful.” He takes a glance at your reaction. “And he wanted lots of women.” 

You can’t hide the disgusted look that makes its way onto your face. 

“That piece of shit,” you mutter under your breath. 

After everything you did for him, he still had the audacity to go behind your back, make a deal with a demon, and wish for wealth and women?

I really know how to pick ‘em, you think bitterly. 

Hongjoong continues, noticing the look on your face. 

“But no need to worry, sweetheart. I’ve taken care of your little problem, and I do think you come out of this fiasco the winner.” 

Your eyebrows furrow and you stare at him in confusion. 

Hongjoong leans in close, close enough where you can feel his breath on your face and his lips are mere inches from yours. His eyes have slowly begun to bleed black and another wicked smile makes its way onto his face.

“Now, you have me.” 

- 

It seems as though demons share the unfortunate similarity to human males where they seem to be extra sensitive in between their legs. 

Unfortunately for Hongjoong, you had taken advantage of his proximity to knee him where the sun doesn’t shine. While he doubled over in pain, you take the opportunity to run out of your bedroom and head straight for the front door. 

I just need to get out, I need to call someone, I need to call Seonghwa-

Right as your fingers brush against the door handle, a hand grabbed at your wrist and yanked you back. 

Grunting, you land harshly on the floor, the breath being knocked out of you. A weight over your body makes you wince. Opening your eyes, you watch as Hongjoong straddles your waist, his hands coming down to rest near your head. 

He clicked his tongue. 

“Nice try cutie, but you can’t get away from me that easily.” 

Struggling, you attempt to shove him off of you, but despite his slightly smaller stature, the stupid demon won’t budge. 

“I didn’t make a deal with you!” You cry out, punching his chest. “You got what you wanted, so leave me alone!” 

Hongjoong lets out a chuckle. 

“I don’t think you get it sweetheart. I want you.” 

“Why?” You pant, your adrenaline slowly fading and confusion taking over. 

Hongjoong shrugs. 

“You intrigue me.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“How romantic,” you say sarcastically. 

“See, this is what I mean,” he gestures down at your body that is still laying on the floor. “When I was dealing with your boyfriend, you heard what was going on and instead of leaving, you stayed behind the door.” 

He knew I was there the entire time?

“When I introduced myself, you laughed, and even after our entire conversation, you still had the gall to hurt me to try and run away.” He stares into your eyes so deeply that you can’t help but squirm slightly. 

“It’s called a fight or flight response.” 

Hongjoong giggles, and if it weren’t for the fact that you are currently pinned down beneath the demon, you honestly might find it kind of cute. 

Sighing, you let your hands fall to the floor next to you. Hongjoong looks at you slightly amused. 

“So what, you’re gonna stick around and when you eventually get bored, you’re gonna kill me and take me soul?”

He tilts his head to the side. 

“I can if you want me to.” 

With wide eyes, you shake your head no. 

“That’s what I figured,” Hongjoong chuckles. “No, you haven’t made a deal with me, so I won’t take your soul. You’re just stuck with me now.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. 

“Great,” you sigh. 

-

In Hongjoong’s defense, having him around isn’t that bad. 

For the most part, he sticks to himself, observing you as you go about your day. 

“That’s really creepy,” you mentioned offhandedly one day. 

“What is?” Hongjoong questioned. 

“This whole, standing and staring thing you have going on,” you waved your hand around. 

“Would you prefer me to be up close and personal with you?” In the blink of an eye, Hongjoong is standing directly against you. 

Taking a step back, you raise your hands in front of you. 

“No, I’m fine, you can continue with your staring.” 

On occasion, he can be pretty helpful, too. 

You slam the door to your apartment open, stomping inside and throwing your bag on the floor. You throw yourself face-first onto the couch and let out a muffled scream. 

From where he sits at the dining table watching Netflix on your computer, Hongjoong stares at you, amused. 

“Is everything okay sweetheart?”

“No,” comes your muffled reply. 

If Hongjoong didn’t have incredibly sharp hearing, he would have a hard time understanding you. 

“Stupid Eric from work thinks he can just treat all the women like pieces of meat and get away with it because he’s the boss’s son,” you spit. 

You miss the way Hongjoong’s face darkens. 

“Did he do something to you?” He questions. 

You’re silent for a moment, debating if you want to say it out loud.

“It’s just,” you trail off, unsure how to say it.

Hongjoong hums, letting you know that he’s listening.

“He’s always made comments to all the women in my department, and those are easy to ignore, but today he got really close to me when we were in the break room.”

You can feel your body tense up as you relive the moment.

“Honestly, I thought he was going to try and do something, but luckily, one of our coworkers walked in before he could do anything,” you admit.

It’s silent for a few seconds.

“I’ll be back,” are the only words that come out of Hongjoong’s mouth.

You sit up abruptly from the couch.

“Huh?”

Before you can even finish speaking, Hongjoong is gone.

“So much for moral support,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the couch.

It’s not until late that the demon returns.

You’re sitting on your bed with a face mask on, scrolling through work emails when Hongjoong appears suddenly at the foot of your bed.

You jump slightly, only calming down when you realize who it is.

“Fuck dude, you can’t keep doing that,” you chastise him, trying to calm your racing heart.

Hongjoong says nothing, staring at you.

It’s only then you notice the way his eyes are completely black and he’s breathing abnormally hard.

A shiver crawls up your spine.

“Are you okay?” You ask hesitantly.

Still, Hongjoong remains quiet for a moment before rolling his shoulders back, a deep exhale escaping him.

“You don’t need to worry about that Eric anymore,” is all he says before walking out of your room.

Although you’re slightly horrified at the implications of his words, you also can’t deny the fuzzy feeling in your chest over his actions.

The most annoying part about having him around, though, is the teasing.

Hongjoong seems to have made it his mission to fluster you. 

Constantly.

You had just stepping out of the bath, a satisfied sigh escaping you as you wrapped a fuzzy towel around your body.

After a long week, the long, warm bath was incredibly needed.

Softly combing through your hair, you hum slightly as you go through your nighttime skincare routine, being extra thorough and gentle.

Once you finish, you open the door to your bathroom and step out into your room, only to gasp when you see Hongjoong laying on your bed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You exclaim as one of your hands reaches up to tightly grab the towel that’s wrapped around your body.

Hongjoong glances over at you, drinking in the sight of your damp body.

“Enjoying the view,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, walking over to the bedroom door and opening it.

“Get out.”

The demon pouts as he sits up on your bed.

“C’mon, don’t you think I’ve been good lately?” He stands up slowly and begins making his way over to you.

Hongjoong gets closer, a small smirk making its way onto his face.

“Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

You stand completely still against the wall, gulping harshly. There’s a heat that builds in your lower stomach as you stare into his hooded eyes.

One of Hongjoong’s hands creeps up to gently toy with the edge of the towel that lays against your chest.

“If you ever feel so kind,” Hongjoong leans in to whisper against your ear. “You know where to find me.”

He leans away from you, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Wordlessly, he walks out of your bedroom and shuts the door.

You quickly place the lock on it before sitting down on your bed. Placing a hand over your chest, you feel it beat harshly against your chest.

What the fuck was that?

-

Today is a particularly bad day.

From running late in the morning, missing your normal bus to work, and being reprimanded for a mistake you didn’t even do, you think your last straw is when it starts pouring on your way home.

Of course, the weatherman certainly did not predict this today, so you were left umbrella-less and with only a thin blazer to shield yourself from the elements.

And, with your incredible luck, a call from your mother nagging about why you haven’t visited in a few months and how you need to start thinking about a more serious career really seemed to tip you over the edge.

You don’t even make it all the way home, instead opting to go to the nearby park to sit and be alone for a little while.

The rain hasn’t stopped, but it no longer bothers you. In fact, you welcome the harsh sting of water against your skin. It’s the only feeling you seem to be able to comprehend at this moment.

You sit on the swing and stare numbly at your feet. There are tears making their way down your cheeks, but you cannot distinguish them from the rain.

You’re not sure how long you sit there alone.

Only the sudden lack of water pelting down on you causes you to look up.

Standing next to you in casual clothes is Hongjoong. He holds an umbrella over you, the rain beginning to soak his left side.

You hadn’t even notice him approach.

“You know, if you wanted to get killed or die from a hypothermia, this is a for sure way to do it,” he jokes.

You don’t respond.

Hongjoong notices your lack of response and furrows his eyebrows.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?”

His tone is gentle, probably the softest you’ve ever heard him speak.

You can’t stop the sobs that leave your mouth at his words.

Without hesitation, Hongjoong drops the umbrella and falls to his knees in front of you. He brings his arms up as you fall into the chest, your face burrowing itself into his neck.

He says nothing as you cry, rubbing his hands softly against your back and stroking your hair.

It takes a few minutes for your sobs to die down and when you do, Hongjoong gently pulls your body away from his to look at you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He questions, eyes searching your own.

The look of despair on your face breaks Hongjoong’s heart. His chest physically hurts at the way you seem to be in so much pain, and him, unable to do anything about it.

He can’t remember the last time he felt so distraught over a human.

“I’m so tired,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. 

A few stray tears make their way down your cheeks and Hongjoong cups your face with his hands, gently brushing them away.

“Then use me,” He says.

“Rest on me, take your anger out on me, hurt me, laugh at me, I don’t care.”

The raw honesty in his voice causes you to open your eyes and stare at him.

“It hurts me to see you in pain,” he frowns.

You let out a weak chuckle.

“I didn’t know demons could feel pain,” you attempt to joke.

Hongjoong doesn’t reply, only continuing to stare at you as if he’s trying to commit every inch of your face to memory.

“I feel so strongly for you it hurts,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen and you stare into his, trying to search for any inkling of deceit that will let you know he’s lying.

You can’t find any.

Your mouth parts, but no words come out. Hongjoong runs one of his fingers over your bottom lip.

“If you let me,” he glances from your lips up to your eyes. “I want to be your everything, the same way you are mine.”

The only thing that leaves your lips is a breathy sigh of his name. He leans in closer.

“May I?” He asks lowly.

You barely have a chance to nod before Hongjoong is crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss is passionate, slightly desperate in the way he clutches onto your face and pulls you closer, as if you’ll disappear from his hands if he leaves even an inch of space between your bodies.

Hongjoong lightly nibbles on your lower lip and you let out a soft sigh. One of his hands has moved to your hip, where it rubs soft circles.

Eventually pulling away from each other, you lean your forehead against his.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” Hongjoong admits to you.

You let out a small laugh and shake your head.

“You’re like a million years old, I find that slightly hard to believe.”

He shakes his head no, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to rest against his chest where his heart is. Underneath your palm, you feel the way his heart pounds.

“This is all for you,” Hongjoong smiles.

“Only for you.”

bonus!

You and Hongjoong were enjoying a night in, laying down on your bed as a movie played on the T.V. Hongjoong had draped himself over your lap, resting his head on your stomach as you gently combed your hands through his hair. 

“You know, for a demon, I thought you would have horns or something,” you mumble, eyes focused on the screen. Hongjoong’s body shakes with slight laughter. 

“Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I have horns. That’s kind of stereotypical of you to assume,” he teases. 

You roll your eyes, lightly smacking him on the back of his head. 

“I do have fangs though,” he mentions after a couple of seconds. 

Your eyes widen. 

“Really?”

Hongjoong hums, leaning up slightly to face you. He opens his mouth and you watch as his teeth slowly become pointed. Gaping, you bring your hand up to softly run your fingers over the sharp edges. Your breath hitches slightly when you press the pad of your finger on the point of his tooth and it leaves a small wound. 

Grinning, Hongjoong crawls on top of you. 

“Do you like them?” he asks. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s leaning down and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. You let out a breathy sigh, moving your head to side to give him more access. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes when he drags the tips of his sharpened teeth against your skin. 

Pulling back to look at your flushed face, Hongjoong smirks, black seeping into his eyes. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun.” 

                                        ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Let's Eat!

(That is, let's live, want, connect... oh, you know what I mean by now)

I like how Yaad and the other living villagers can casually talk with the ghosts, because for all intents and purposes they were also ghosts... In fact, those who stayed and spent centuries going through the patterns of life even though all true meaning had been lost long ago were MORE "ghosts" than those who lost their corporeal forms because they wanted to escape so badly that they went wandering... That's so fuckin' good. I wanna eat this writing.

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Kabru just randomly walking out of the bushes the second Laios starts considering politics...love him. He was summoned. His PR spidey senses were going off.

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look at my boy, establishing his own authority.

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Lol this was me when we moved house last month, and my job was to just stand in the new living room and tell people where to put which box or piece of furniture. It's an important job in a task with a lot of people!

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FUCK YEAH, THAT'S MY MAN! HE LOOKS GREAT!

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fucking love the trope of "one savvy friend in the crowd who deliberately gets a supportive chant going." Of course it's Kabru.

Though it's important to note that the first thing someone called was, "The demon-eater's here!", and there was muttering while no one was entirely sure if that was a good thing or not... Kabru didn't start the rumble of the crowd; the rumble of the crowd is unavoidable, and you have to be aware of that. Laios has always been aware of that, he's just never known what to do about it, and so tried to avoid it. But he's not avoiding it anymore - so Kabru started the hype of the crowd.

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They're both right! In order to eat, you need to kill! A memento of a meal IS a spoil of war!

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They're unhappy bros... /laughing

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Shown: man desperately reassuring himself, and psyching himself up to eat this stupid dragon meat

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DADCHUCK. Istg my father has said the same thing to me.

p.s. oh thank god he's fully dressed again. it was indecent.

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Marcille is so resigned to this, and so...determined to see it as her own choice. "We all agreed", "I've got to go" - and I'm sure she does see it as her own choice, in a way, because this is how the world has always worked and she knows that. She knew that going in. Those who do ancient magic are arrested by the Elves of the West, that's just the "natural" consequence. She might've gotten away with it if she'd gone undiscovered, or if she'd stayed in the dungeon forever, but she didn't - she chose to pursue her craft, to save Falin, and to do everything after that, too, and so she implicitly chose the consequence with it. If it's unfair, well, thinking that changes nothing, so it's better not to think it.

Until Laios is like, "Actually, I might have political power now? And I'm SO goddamn tired of myself and people I love being punished just for being different, and interested in unconventional things. Let's try something."

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WELL-FUCKING-PLAYED! GET THEIR ASSES, LAIOS! It's especially great because I'm pretty sure he knows the answers to all of this by now? Power move!

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Is she sitting there completely nude except for jewelry and a short robe. Icons only, honestly. Though "we have the luxury of time" feels like so much of a threat from an elf.

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Hey, you did objectively defeat him! Okay arguably the Lion did but Laios did it first, he just also then talked to him, and got grabbed by friendly vine-tentacles. You didn't kill him, but that's not what Delgal asked for anyway!

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thinking about that post that observed that Thistle's driving madness was specifically getting Delgal home for dinner, to eat all together as a family again, and he wakes up to the sound of the people of the Golden Kingdom eagerly inviting the (new) king to eat, and him responding...crying... What is lost is lost, but life will go on.

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The moment when a character decides to lie to another character for their own good is always so compelling. The little moral quandary microcosm.

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So Yaad did know something of what passed between Delgal and Thistle, that drove Thistle down the path to dark magic. He know what it was his grandfather blamed himself for.

This is SUCH A GOOD AND QUIET-SAD DEATH SCENE, but as a consummate fan of 'actually, living is much much harder than dying, and much more interesting too', I do like to think Thistle lives and has to...figure out what to do with his life. And that 'what to do with his life' ends up including ancient magic mad science with Marcille.

...But honestly, even though that'd be fun for me, it seems almost cruel to Thistle. He's been alive for so long. Those he loved most are gone. He held the demon back from the surface, trapped in those books, for so long, even if it was in no way whatsoever with the good of the world in mind. If anyone deserves this peaceful death in (what he thinks are) his brother's forgiving arms, it's him.

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Unfortunately, my love, as has been ceaselessly proven in this story: that's life.

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Marcille has caught onto one of the major themes! However, this story still isn't in favor of afternoon special Moral of the Story - not of letting the characters wrap things up with a bow, at least. You just go on living and wanting and learning about and connecting with and killing new things, forever! That's how it goes! You never know everything and you're always a little bit starving!

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I really love this grumpy old man, and I want him to stick around and be one of Laios's advisors. He's an old gnome, he'll die as soon as an average tallman would anyway.

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This is a) very touching coming from Mithrun, who is only just regaining his own will to live, and b) almost tautalogical in this story EXCEPT that it is also clear that merely "wanting" doesn't mean you get to continue to live, it only means that you're alive in this moment - you also need to want to live MORE than whatever's trying to kill you wants to live.

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GREAT VISUALS!

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And then it's so small, so small that she could leave it behind entirely but Falin is still so kind that she picks it up anyway! Falin who looks at everyone and everything - ghosts and brothers and mad mages and dead dragons, the latter of whom were both violently oppressing her soul - and thinkgs "I gotta help." She's so good!

I'm really going to need to write a like 2k post-canon character study about how Falin has part of the spirit of a dragon in her chest which unfurls while she travels abroad and curls up again and hides when she's home with Marcille and especially with Laios, and how it's a metaphor for her own independence but also literally there is the spirit of a dragon. At the end of it she figures out how to nurture and commune with the dragon enough to have her own flight-capable wings.

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THIS IS SO FUCKING COOL-LOOKING. AUTOPHAGIC SELF-CREATION FOR THE FUCKING WIN!!

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YYEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

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fuck it, have a collage, because this bitch-ass website is about to cut off my photos-per-post. It can't HANDLE the sheet joy of Falin resurrection reunion hugs!!

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so many people love her, or at least are really emotionally invested in this now!! /sobs

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Lmaoooo

Laios: wracked with food poisoning because he ate raw walking mushroom Falin: great distress! Marcille: trying very hard to help, also thinking sooo hard that He Is An Idiot. [btw I love how it looks like she takes up holding her hair back with a band] Kabru: having his weekly moment, as he has for the past many years and will continue to have until he dies, of wondering if he shouldn't really have just killed this guy rather than let him become king

Kabru definitely wrote this whole ending narration btw. This is his press release from like 40 years in the future. And those kids! An orc kid and a kobold kid, and zooming out to show kids of other races, all playing together and going to lunch together!!

And then they all lived, and hungered and ate and killed and wanted and sought understanding and connected with one another and were part of the great circle of life, as happily ever after as one can get.

This story truly was delicious...in dungeon!

[ursemma]

Guilty as sin

Nate Archibald × F!reader

Summary: How can I be guilty as sin? Without ever touching his skin?

Warning: angst, masturbation, little smut.

We're just bestfriends right? So why do I imagine him being on top of me, or holding my hand while walking down the streets of nyc?

I looked at him as he arrived with Blair at the kiss on the lips party, they looked so happy together. But I can't help but imagine myself with him.

I shook my thoughts away as I see Blair making her way towards me, she's my bestfriend I can't do this to her, "heyy y/n! You look fabulous!" She compliments me and pulls me into a hug.

"thanks B! You look fabulous too!!" I returned the hug, and we pull away as we see Serena making her way into the party.

"what is she doing here?" Blair asks as she glares Serena's way. "I don't know but whatever it is it better not ruin the party" I sighed feeling defeated, their catfights honestly gets my energy drained.

I watch as she goes to find chuck, and Nate stands besides me, "hey everything's fine? You look tired." He asks as he offers me a glass of champagne, "yeah I'm fine, just drained from everything you know?" I looked into his eyes as I answered him, and saw his gorgeous face, those eyelashes, those blue eyes, the little freckles, and his lips- omg.

I looked away as I felt those feelings creeping into my mind, "you know you can count on me right?" He reassured me, while pulling my face towards him to face him.

"I know Nathaniel, it's just, you know those catfights between Blair and Serena, and how I'm the one left hanging in between them needing to make a choice when I just want everything to be back as it was before." I took a deep sigh and replied as I felt butterflies in my stomach. I wasn't lying but I wasn't telling the truth either.

"yeah i know but it's not going to be how it was before, atleast not anytime soon. But don't worry, you have me okay?" He said with a sincere look in his eyes, "I know" I gave him a weak smile.

Soon Charles and Blair came, "care to dance with me Nate?" Blair asked him for a dance and he joined her.

"you should tell him you know" chuck said as he watched me look at him with a longing eyes.

"he doesn't feel the same." I sighed as I took one more shot, only chuck knew how I felt about him, how? I don't know.

"you never know." He encouraged me, that's what he's been doing since a long time.

"he's with Blair, Charles and they look happy!" I protested, honestly when it comes to confessing, I'm not good at it.

"are they though? We all know Nathaniel doesn't feel a shit for Blair, he's doing it for his family's sake." He instead me and tbh he wasn't wrong, but what about Serena, now she's back he'll be with her ofcourse.

"Charles, Serena is back. We all know he loves her. I don't stand a chance, unless and until I'm willing to be a rebound which I'm not."

"okay fine, I won't force you but promise me to do something about it."

"only if you tell Blair how you feel" I said with a smirk and I watch his face turn pale.

We both knew alot of things about eachother, including our secret crushes, which no one knew.

We're like brother's and sister's, shocking right? The first girl who Charles bass didn't tried to bang out of respect?

I gasped as I felt wet kisses trailing down my neck, and then sucking my skin leaving a hickey.

"oh my" I tried to breath when the kisses went down to my Naked breasts and nibbling my skin and sucking my nipples as they harden.

The heat in between my legs was growing and so was the tension.

"I need you" I moaned louder as I felt my panties get wet, "yeah what do you want darling?" He said while going down on me.

"you, everything give it to me." I said while breathing heavily, "okay" he smirked and started to tease me with his mouth.

"don't tease!" I gasped when his mouth met my clit, stroking and sucking it slowly.

He started abusing my clit with his mouth, while his hands were circling my skin.

"oh my Nate I'm gonna cum" as I reached my climax I felt the door being knocked.

"miss y/n!! Wake up you're going to be late!" Dorothea shouted.

I groaned as I woke up from my slumber, and I remembered what I dreamt of.

Flushing in embarrassment I pulled my duvet over my face, "miss y/n!!" Dorothea shouted again.

"yes dorthy I'm awake!" I responded her letting her know that I'm alive.

I felt the heat between my legs growing hotter and hotter.

Should I? Fuck it.

I went into the washroom and put two fingers inside my clit massaging it, hoping for some relief.

I imagined Nate touching me, and I left a moan at the thought.

As I was pleasuring myself I suddenly heard my phone ringing and I groaned at it, and picked up without looking at the number.

"y/n?" Fuck it was Nate, in his morning voice. I felt myself getting wetter and gasping for air.

Even his voice had this effect on me.

"y-yes Nathaniel? You need something?" I tried to maintain my composer.

"hey what happened to you? You sound not so fine?" He asked with his voice filled with concern.

"nothing just the morning workout you know" I replied quickly, "okay if you say so, I was actually wondering if you want to come with me and Blair in our limo? The route of her and your house is same that's way" he asked me, I thought for a while and decided it's better to stay away, "actually I'm running late today so you guys go ahead I'll come on my own" "okay I'll see you then" "yea" and I hung up.

I decided to get freshed and leave for school.

I got out of the limo and looked around and saw Blair and Nate walking together.

"sight to sore eyes isn't it" I turned to see Chuck looking at them, "indeed" I replied and we started walking together.

I felt rush of emotions. Embarrassment, love, lust, heartbreak and mostly guilt.

He's my bestfriend's boyfriend and one of my bestfriend and yet I'm here imagining us together.

But mostly, without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

Is he written mine only in my mind? Is there not even 1% of hope for us?

I shook my thoughts and sat near Blair, looking at her exchanging looks with Nate and chuck and I eyed eachother knowingly.

I sighed and thought about everything, why does my life has to be complicated.

.

.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You

summary: the ascension changed the person Astarion was, or so you believed. you broke up and parted ways after defeating the netherbrain, thinking it was for the best, but when you see him again 6 months later at the reunion, you realize you never truly moved on.

and it seems neither did he.

rating: E

word count: 3.9k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader) (fic wide), shadowheart x you (chapter 1 specifically)

cw: 18+. angst, smut, porn with plot, porn with (some) feelings, ascended astarion, bad breakup, awkwardly avoiding your ex, alcohol induced sex, rebound sex (in the sense that youre trying to forget about your ex but you might have feelings for that other person too), oral sex, fingering, stalking, kidnapping, mild violence.

a/n: i have been working on this for over a month now, i have 2 other chapters also ready BUT im undecided on which ending i want for this, so yall get chapter 1 as a teaser, let me know whatcha think :eyes:

a/n²: this is the start of a long fic (my first one, phew)! i intend to update it weekly-ish, i GREATLY appreciate comments as it helps me test the waters on whats to come with it

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I like (I like) what you like (what you like) Long hair (no bra) that's my type (that's right) You just told me, want me to fuck you Baby, I will 'cause I really want to

-

The ascension was complete. He actually went through with it. 7000 souls, gone. 

Astarion, The Vampire Ascendant.

He convinced you that it’s what was necessary. You thought this would bring him peace. It’s what he wanted. You loved him, and you would’ve gone to the ends of the world for him; in your eyes, after everything he'd been through, it's what he deserved.

“I can hear it at last, how all the lowly creatures of this plane are begging to serve.”

But now that it was done, you couldn’t tell if he was still him. If the vampire before you was still the same you spent that first night in the woods. That same one who admitted to have fallen for you. The same one who thanked you for taking a stand against Araj at Moonrise Towers. And if he wasn’t, who was he now? Did he have anything left from his previous self? And could you still love him if he didn’t?

"The world will stir in fear."

The walk back to camp that day was dreary. As Astarion walked ahead of everyone with his newfound confidence, you were dragging your feet behind the rest of your party. The weight of what you had done, slowly setting in. Your friends asked about your well-being and you reassured them all that everything’s fine! It was just a big day! And you simply couldn’t wait to finally rest. You didn’t have the heart to admit that you were regretting what you had encouraged Astarion to do.

Back at the Elfsong, you wave to your companions an early good night as you are heading to bed, before Astarion pulls you aside.

“My consort, we are so close to our triumph, I can almost taste it.” Even his tone was different. What you used to qualify as theatrical was now leaning towards dramatical.

You freeze and look at him dead in his eyes. Every part of you is looking for any proof at all that he was still himself. After all, you had no way to know if the 7007 souls sacrificed also included his own.

“I think we need to talk,” your voice comes out colder than intended.

“Little love, whatever could be the matter?”

“Just– what in the Hells happened to you in there?” The words come out of their own, tainted with sadness.

“It's quite simple, really: I became a better version of myself. The very best, dare I say. And I have no one else but you to thank for it.”

You cross your arms and evade his eyes, your shame for your actions creeping up on you. “I don’t feel great about it, honestly.”

“Well, what’s done is done, and there’s simply no point in dwelling on the past, is there?”

His disdain for the enormous sacrifice that was made makes you scoff, incredulous. “You’re nothing like the Astarion I knew before.”

“I know. I’m better, stronger than he ever was. Finally free of my past.” He smiles, satisfied. “I’m who I always wanted to be. I have everything I ever wanted, except you, by my side.”

His hand reaches out to you and you quickly understand the offer he’s making: to make you a spawn, his spawn. The whole situation is bittersweet to you; of course you’ve always wanted what he wanted, what was best for him, and you would've spent your lifetime with him in another context, but with how he turned out following the ascension, this future isn't something you can imagine yourself in. Now that this choice is given to you, you know better than to accept. 

You shake your head as you step back, “No… I won’t do it.”

He sighs, dropping his hand to his side, “Seems I misjudged you. I thought we might have a future together, eternity, even. Perhaps you’re not worthy.”

His condescending tone sparks a fury within you. “We’ll defeat the elder brain together. But after that, I want nothing to do with you,” you say as you try to contain the anger rising in your chest. His brows furrow, matching your energy. “So be it. You will regret leaving me, more than anything you live to regret.”

You give him one last angry look before walking to your bed, muttering to yourself as you feel tears swelling up. 

“I regret letting you go through with that damned ritual.”

—

You follow through with your promise. With the Netherbrain gone and your tadpoles vanished, nothing kept you together anymore. You parted ways with all your companions, going out on your own, wherever your next adventure guided you. Finally, a normal life, or something closer to it, anyway. You did miss most of them, for what it’s worth; you considered them your family. You often wondered how Wyll and Karlach were faring in the Hells, and how Lae’zel’s quest to take down Vlaakith was going; you even considered offering your help at one point, but after ending things with Astarion, you needed to be alone. The breakup hit you harder than you expected, it left your heart with a void. He looked happy following his ascension, so why couldn’t you be happy for him? Why was this so hard on you? It’s not something you had ever experienced in your past relationships, usually able to move to the next one rather quickly. You didn’t naturally get attached to people, you used to think that nothing lasts forever, and relationships weren’t an exception. This damned vampire proved to you once again that you were right, although you wished for once you weren’t. He took up all your thoughts, and you had to do something to wash him away.

You occupied your time best by helping people in need, taking bounties left and right, roaming the lands and fighting monsters. When you could afford it, you’d spend the night at the local inn, drinking to numb the feelings. On nights when you were most drunk, you ended up sharing someone else's bed, whoever proposed it to you on those nights. With the alcohol in your veins and your eyes closed, your mind let you believe that you were in his arms again. That it was all a bad dream, and you would wake up next to him, only to be hit by the harsh reality the next morning.

You did anything that you thought would help keep your mind busy. It did work for some time; as long as you were actively doing something – focused on the task at hand – you didn’t think about the past, but the moment night fell and you laid to rest alone, you were back at square one. 

You felt guilty about Astarion’s ascension. Guilty of the impact it had on him and your relationship, guilty of the power you let him have and the consequences that it meant. Even guilty of how you felt about it; it was a vicious cycle that plagued you.

It had been your one and only mistake. You let yourself be blinded by the rose-coloured glasses of your love for him, and although you meant well, you’re very conscious of the damage this decision had on him and potentially the city, but also the 7000 souls sacrificed in the process. Granted, they were already spawns and there was no way to save them from this fate, they could’ve at least have had a chance at living in the Underdark. Yes, you had saved the city – damages aside – lifted a curse, freed everyone and yourself from the Absolute, defeated the chosens of the Dead Three, bla bla bla, but your mind always drifted to Astarion’s fate. What if you had stopped him? Surely, your life would be different now. You would be roaming the streets with him, probably. Maybe living together in the Underdark. He would’ve stayed himself. You would’ve been… happier.

When you receive Withers’ invitation to the reunion, it’s the first time in months you’re actually happy, excited even, to see your friends at long last, but also anxious. Your mind drifts to the vampire you used to love. Would you see him at the reunion? Would he have changed at all? How has he been?

Did he still think about you, too?

Looking forward to the night, you treat yourself out to a nice outfit from the local seamstress. You settle on a simple, yet elegant, black long dress with an open back. The summer night is nice and fresh; you’re glad you went for a long sleeved dress. Your hair, which you decided to let down, also partially covers your exposed back, covering you from the breeze. You reach your old campsite to find out you’re the last to arrive, as you see all your friends already mingling. You decide to talk to Shadowheart first, as she was the one you missed the most, as you had grown particularly closer to her during your adventure. In another life, you would’ve been together, you think. You felt bad about not contacting her sooner, but her joy upon seeing you washes away all guilt. She greets you with a smile and a large embrace.

“Come here you! Gods, I missed you!”

You hold her tight, enjoying her strong hug. 

“Tell me everything! How have you been?”

“Oh you know, a few killings here and there, little shenanigans all around, I’m sure whatever you have to share is much more interesting.” You wish you could say something different, but your adventures really had been that bland. 

She rolls her eyes playfully at your deflection, “And how have you been feeling?”

“Greaaat, every day is a new adventure for me to discover.” You give a poor excuse for a laugh as an attempt to convince her.

She tilts her head forward and raises her eyebrow at you. She knew you better than you gave her credit for. “You know what I meant.” Her gaze points to the side behind you and you give a quick glance to see Astarion disdainfully looking at his surroundings, a silver cup in hand.

You sigh as you turn back to her, the facade falling at once. “I try not to think about it. I… hated what he became, and felt guilty about it. I did take part in it, I could’ve stopped it, but I didn’t.” You cross your arms, recollecting your thoughts. “But I’m starting to think that maybe I jumped to conclusions too quickly when I left him. I miss him and it’s… frustrating. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Seeing him again so soon is more difficult than I originally thought.”

“Did you talk to him?” “I was actually trying to avoid him,” you confess.

“And you think that's healthy?” “It's the only way I'll be able to move on.”

“And how’s that been going?”

“I–” You’re unable to answer her, the truth being that it was going horribly.

She grabs you by your shoulders, bringing your attention back to her, “Hey, you know if you need anything, I’ll be there for you.” You smile, sheepishly, as she brushes your hair behind your ear, softly cupping your cheek. “And if you’re looking for some company to take your mind off of a certain vampire, well, I would be glad to offer mine.” You get lost in her eyes, with her hand soft and warm against your skin. Her invitation is tempting, and your gaze falls on her lips as you speak up.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Come meet me when the party's over.” She smiles back, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before walking away. 

You spend the rest of the night catching up with all your friends, always keeping an eye on Astarion, who you notice has been eyeing you as well, as if he was expecting you to approach him, but you never do. You’re convinced nothing good will come out of it and even if you did talk, you’re not sure where you would even begin, so you keep your distance.

As the night settles down, you bid your close friends farewell and sneak out two bottles of wine to share with Shadowheart as she walks you to the inn she’d been staying at. The road is peaceful, and you reminisce about the past with the cleric, indulging in the leftover drinks you stole from the party. When you finally reach the inn, you're both a giggling and stumbling mess, empty bottles of wine still in hand as you enter her room.

As she closes the door behind her, you hear some patrons through the walls yell at you to shut up – it was late and your entrance had been pretty noisy – and you mockingly hush your friend, pressing a finger on her lips.

“Shadoooow, shhhhh” you whisper, your speech slurred. “You’re bothering people.”

“Oh, I’m bothering people? Care to remind me who stumbled their way up the stairs?” She says, laughing, her cheeks blushed by the alcohol.

“Hey– it’s not my fault their steps are so high and your room is so far,” you pout.

“Oh, my apologies,” she takes on a chivalrous tone. “Does my lady require assistance to reach her bed for the night?” 

You answer, matching her tone. “That would be most welcome, dearest.”

You squeal as she picks you up in her arms with an impressive strength, and carries you to the large bed. You giggle when she drops you off, and she leans over you.

“Is my lady satisfied with my service?”

You fail to keep a straight face when you answer. “Most definitely. Thank you, my liege.”

She smiles back softly before crashing next to you, both of you staring at the ceiling, taking in the first moment of silence of your night. A second later and your mind is already thinking about Astarion and you sigh heavily. Your companion instantly notices your change of mood.

“It’s him again, isn't it?”

You groan, grabbing your hair in frustration. “Was I wrong? To let him go through with that damn ritual? Why does he get to live his best life and I’m still feeling awful abo–”

She cups your cheek and pulls your face close to hers, cutting you off with a kiss. 

“How about we get to work on ‘forgetting about him’, hm?”

You nod slightly as you stare into her eyes, and she grins, her hand curling around your neck before crashing her lips against yours once again. You moan into the kiss, feeling the heat spread across your face and to your chest. Her kisses travel from your jaw down to your neck. She pulls your dress down, gradually exposing your flushed chest, before pulling back to take a good look at you, her own face matching your colour.

“You blush so beautifully.” Her voice is soft like velvet, each word making your heart pounce, as she continues to kiss her way down your navel, eventually discarding your dress on the floor.

You hide your face between your hands, trying to conceal the warmth coming from your cheeks and she comes back up to take your hands in hers, revealing your flustered state.

“You’re too pretty to hide yourself like that,” she reassures you with another kiss. “Let me admire you.”

You struggle to keep eye contact as one of her hands makes its way between your legs, teasing your entrance. Her fingers slide easily between your folds, earning her a moan out of you. She finds your clit and rubs you softly, your entire body twitching in reaction to her touch, and you shut your eyes to focus on the feeling, throwing your head back. Shadowheart takes this chance to trace the curve of your breast with her tongue, closing her mouth on its peak and sucking over it. Her tongue works wonders on you, and you whimper as she lightly bites you. 

“Keep singing for me,” She says between kisses, her voice thick with lust. “I love the sound of your voice.”

Her name on your lips is like a prayer as she ravishes your breast, leaving a few love bites over your chest. She pulls back temporarily to remove her own clothing before climbing back in bed, resting between your legs. You barely manage to raise yourself up when she pushes you back down against the bed.

“Lay down love, and let me take care of you. Just the way you deserve it.”

She throws your legs over her shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs, leaving more love bites and she makes her way to your cunt. Her tongue finally finds its way between your folds and she laps at your juices, making sure to lick you clean.

“Gods, you taste divine.”

Her hands dig in your thighs as she devours you and you arch your back at the sensation, taking in the feeling of her tongue entering you. Your hips soon follow the movement, wanting more contact, and she takes the hint, moving to your clit to give it the attention it deserves. You whine when she enters you with a finger, and a second one, slowly thrusting into you, as her tongue circles your sensitive bud. Your chest rises higher and faster as your breathing quickens, and she knows you're close. Your eyes are long gone, but she looks up to you, admiring your state before she speaks up.

“Let it go, love. Come for me.”

She sucks once more on your clit, her fingers pushing harder against that sweet spot inside of you. You throw your head back, grabbing the bed sheets at your sides as you scream her name with the remaining air in your lungs and a crashing wave of sensations washes over you. For a moment, your mind goes blank, there's nothing but pure bliss. You want to stay like this forever; finally at peace, content. As you come down from your high, your legs give out and you pant excessively, trying to catch your breath.

You feel the bed shift beside you and open your eyes to see Shadowheart lazily making her way next to you.

“But– what about you?” you ask, breathless and tired.

“You don’t think I enjoyed myself just now?” She laughs and kisses you. “You’re simply adorable.” She cups your cheek lovingly, brushing your hair away. 

“Tonight was all about you. Plus, I doubt you'd be able to accomplish anything in the state you're in. You can always make it up to me another night,” she grins and boops your nose, smiling tenderly, before snuggling against you.

You watch her as she drifts to sleep next to you, moments before you cave into your own exhaustion. For the first time in months, you get a good, restful night of sleep.

When morning comes, you’re awakened by a god-awful headache, the consequences of last night’s drinking catching up to you. On the bright side, you find Shadowheart wrapped around you from behind, with her face nuzzled in your neck. You smile and hold on to her arm around your waist, linking your fingers with hers. She awakens soon after and greets you with kisses on your shoulder. You turn around to properly kiss her good morning, but the pain throbbing in your head has you groaning and holding your head instead. She catches on quickly and casts lesser restoration on you, fixing your headache instantly.

“Thank you, doc.” You sigh, content, and turn your head to face her. “How will I ever repay you?”

“I'm sure you'll think of something.”

“Mmh, I might have an idea.”

“Oh?” She chuckles. “Colour me intrigued.”

You flip yourself above her, pinning her down before kissing her lovingly. When you pull away, you find her looking at you with the same lust she had for you the night prior. Her eyes fall on your lips before she speaks again.

“You should follow me on my next adventure. I think it would help you clear things up.”

You pull back, now sitting on her, as you take a moment to answer. “I have a few errands to run, but I might take you up on that offer.”

“I still have the room for a tenday,” she raises herself up on her elbows and gives you a pensive look before continuing her thought. “Let me know when you make up your mind.”

You get dressed up and kiss her goodbye, eager to go back to your own inn to get changed and take a much deserved bath. Since the room you had rented was yours for a few days, you might as well take the chance to shop around while you were there; you were in dire need of new equipment for your next adventures. You spend those days getting upgrades for your gear, and visiting the city. Day after day, something felt odd; you had the weird feeling that you were being watched. Every time, nothing would happen, and neither did you see anyone suspicious, but the feeling never left. One night, as you were making your way to your inn, that feeling only got stronger. The streets weren’t busy per say, but everyone you could see was minding their business, discussing amongst themselves. You pressed ahead to reach the inn faster; maybe it was all in your head, but just in case your intuition was right, you didn’t want to take any chances.

As you turn the corner to take a shortcut in a back alley, two figures block your path. In the dark of the night, you can’t make out their identities, but their threatening auras are enough to make you back away. You bump into two more imposing shadows, somehow having managed to sneak up behind you, who quickly grab your arms before you can think of escaping. You try to fight against them but their combined forces pin you down almost completely. You were strong, you shouldn’t have had any issue fighting them off, but their strength almost felt… surnatural. If you had learned one thing during your misadventures, it was that when brute strength wasn't an option, you had to aim for their egos.

“Come on, four against one? How's that fair? Are you so weak that you can't face me alone? Let me get the chance to fuck you up, one after the other.” You smile cheekily, your blood running hot, ready for a fight. Karlach would be proud.

The bandits remain unphased by your taunting, with only one of them answering to your banter.

“We won't fight you. Our Master requested that you be brought alive.”

“Aw, poor lil pup can’t do anything without its master's permission,” you say, mocking them, and you laugh disdainfully at them. “You’re fucking pathetic.” 

The figure moves towards you and you’re slapped with a strength that would’ve made you fall to your knees, had you not been held by the two other goons.

“ENOUGH!” Another figure speaks up. “Remember the Master mentioned that she be left unharmed.”

You lift your head back up, your breathing ragged by your furor. “How about you bring me to that master of yours so I can show him who he’s messing with?”

You wish you could take back your words as another figure appears, stepping out from the shadows, this one all too familiar.

“Hello, my sweet.”

-

I bet they planned it all out like the shows Went everywhere I go Walked in the store right behind me Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home I'm sure they figured it out early on That I would never run That they could shoot, but that's no fun 'Cause then they're killing the stolen son, oh