#“Yeah… I probably would be that…”

[yournewfriendshouse]

one thing that has been crazy over the last decade has been living in australia whose harsh and inhumane border control policies were actually echoed by places like britain who were like ‘oh that’s so fucking mean let’s do the same thing’ and watching a massive humanitarian crisis happen all over the world as people in war torn and impoverished nations are forced to move, often by issues that the us and britain etc have created.

and then people in the us only ever talk about ‘the wall’ and illegal immigrants as they relate to the us as if there aren’t refugees being treated like absolute shit in so many countries. it’s so surreal

like australia had mandated concentration camps that they hired other countries to run and the us were acting like they were the only country who had that going down

and I do want to be clear that the us is crazy and bad. immigration officers should not carry sub machine guns, or whatever the fuck those guys carry these days (first time I ever saw an automatic weapon was on a us american airport security officer, and you certainly never forget that kind of thing) but they are very much not the only people whole country is being driven into depravity and violence by fascists.

they’re just in one of the centres of the agents who are driving many of the issues that are giving energy to the tide

thats the thing thats missing from america-centric discussion of fascism: this shit is global. every country in “the west” is seeing the same rise of fascism in real time, all of it focused on murdering migrants. like giorgia meloni is campaigning to deport people to “migrant camps” in albania. last year the greek coast guard outright drowned a boat of 500 asylum seekers. and as that last post said im not dismissing the suffering of people within the US, i’m just saying its so supremely frustrating that every conversation is about the minutiae of american domestic policy and not the horrifying ultranationalist global trend scapegoating arabs and africans.

[prettyboykatsuki]

mixed messages | r. sukuna

✮  tags ; gn + afab!reader, unhealthy relationships, not cheating but reader flirts with gojo while tipsy for fun, undefined relationships, fingering / making out, jealousy, modern!sukuna, sukuna and yuuji r brothers 18+

✮ wc ; 2k

✮  a/n ; a snippet / extension of my modern sukuna post for @arguablyferal. i hope it gives a clear-ish idea of what he's like!!

some more like. relationship explanation in an authors note at the end.

✮  synopsis ; you've never been able to get a good read on him. would he really come to a party just to keep you from flirting with another guy ?

somehow you doubt it.

He's hitting on you.

Gojo is, you think. Though you can't be sure since it feels...a little conceited to believe that a guy like that suddenly developed a genuine interest in you. You can think of a couple reasons he would hit on you, all of them to do with getting on Sukuna's last nerve in their never-ending rivalry.

But it's weird because it doesn't really feel like he's just messing around. As in, it doesn't seem like it's just for that reason.

You know Gojo. Not as close as Shoko or Getou might but enough to comfortably call yourself a distant friend. A little more than acquaintance but less then close.

He's facetious—melodramatic, really—totally by design. By necessity, some of it is an act, but you're good enough at reading him to know what's playful and what's not.

That's why you think that Gojo is really hitting on you. He's using the fact Sukuna, your...whatever, isn't here attending with you. He was supposed to be here but he flaked last minuted on coming with you. You ended up taking Yuuji and his friends though, anyhow.

You're letting him do it. He's serious about hitting on you, and he probably knows you're not very serious about returning his feelings.

But you're entertaining it, despite yourself.

Everyone you know is looking the other way while it happens too. Gojo is leaned close, sitting next to you in a plastic chair, and you're just a little bit buzzed. Humid summer air warms your skin, makes you want to sink into the night.

You're not touching, but you're too close for not-quite-friends. Gojo edges on touchy. A soft nudge here and there, the kind of proximity you shouldn't have. Gojo is a breath away, sober because he doesn't like alcohol.

And he's super friendly, which is nice.

A beat of silence settles between you as the night rolls in a little heavier.

Gojo says you what you assume he's been thinking about all night, without any real introduction.

"You should break up with him," He says, just over a can of soda with a kind of sincerity that makes you restless. You feel your nerves flip.

Your mouth moves before your mind has a chance to fill in the answer. You laugh. "I know."

"You're really too good for him, tsk," Gojo laments, clicking his teeth. Playful again, using just enough drawback so that you don't suffocate in the honesty. You shouldn't entertain this but the attention is nice. "And gosh, you're so much more fun without that dark cloud hanging around you, y'know"

You giggle unconsciously at the thought of Sukuna as a dark cloud. Big and broad with a deep voice—it's an astute comparison. Shaking your head, you give him a playful glance. "Am I really more fun? I feel like I'm not as good a conversationalist as a certain someone,"

Gojo smiles at you proudly. "I'm having fun at least."

You close your eyes and take another, much longer drink. "Yeah, me too."

"If you know you can do better, why bother with him? I figure that bastard might be holding you hostage but," He's serious again, brows raised. "You've got more options, you know?"

You shrug, absently. You don't know the answer yourself. It's one thing that Sukuna never quite lets you leave but it's another thing you come back to him every time. You settle on your reply with closed eyes then laugh a little too loud. Gojo doesn't startle.

"Who knows? But you know, thank you anyway. It's good to have options. Maybe it'll knock some sense into me,"

Friendly again. He's a nice guy you think.

"If it doesn't, make sure to give me a call. I'm pretty great too, y'know."

You give him a lighthearted smile.

It's hard to hear much over the loud thump of music. You're not very in touch with your surroundings and the pleasant air around you all but swallows you.

It takes you a minute. Longer than you care to admit, to realize that someone is approaching you. Even longer to realize who.

Sukuna is looming over you and Gojo when you finally look up.

"Having fun?"

You blink, pulling away to make sure you're hearing correctly. Sinking back into your chair, your eyes flicker up to whats casting shadow overhead. His voice almost bellows, deep and coarse but not loud.

"I thought you weren't coming," Is all you can think to say. Sukuna rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. I thought so too,"

He doesn't ask you to get up as much as he tugs you towards him. He's careful not to pull too hard but you come up still on a stumble, drink still in hand, and face in his chest. Your heart thumps, embarrassed by the sudden warmth. His hand sits on your lower back and suddenly there's a conversation happening overhead.

"Quit sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," He spits. He's talking to Gojo you realize.

"Be careful there, nii-san. You're gonna make it seem like you care."

Sukuna tenses under you before he relaxes again - rolling his eyes. He's not happy about it but you can hear that he's trying not to let it show.

"Stay out of it." Sukuna demands. Gojo whistles.

"Sure, sure. You two have fun there."

Sukuna turns you around like that, your face still in his chest as he drags you away. You hear Gojo laugh faintly as you walk further away from the crowd.

__

You don't really get any explanation from Sukuna as he packs you and himself in the backseat of his car.

He's quiet the entire walk there, and the air is so heavy your lungs can't find a breath around it. He doesn't say anything to you even as he opens the back door. He tells you to get in but doesn't show any emotion you discern.

Instead you end up laying in the backseat with Sukuna over you - cramped as his tongue slips all the way into your mouth and his hands grab your waist. All too sudden, without any ceremony at all.

You kiss back because he's being so suffocating and it's all you can think to do to appease him. As soon as he lets you breathe, you put a hand on his chest and push him away.

You make eye contact but he still hasn't said a word. "Are you mad?"

He sneers. "You tell me,"

He ducks down again to kiss you and you let him this time, doing your best to gauge what exactly he's thinking. You know he's upset, rather - but it's weird. Something is different about it.

His mouth is hot as he hands slide underneath your shirt further- his knees keeping your legs apart as his thigh presses against your clothed sex. You shiver, moaning into his mouth and Sukuna swallows the noise. Gasping, you pull back again.

"All you do is piss me off you brat," He tugs your lip back between his incisors as he speaks, voice bordering on a snarl. "You should know better than to cozy up to that idiot."

You squirm. "I wasn't cozying—"

"You think I'm fucking stupid? Think I don't got eyes to see with?" And then, like he's predicting your next question. "Yuuji texted me."

"And you came?" You stop, keeping him from going any further. "You came 'cause Yuu-chan sent you a picture of me and Gojo-kun....?"

He ignores your question. "Take your pants off,"

You make a face at him but oblige, hands unbuttoning your jeans as Sukuna practically tugs you out of them and your panties in one go. He sits back up on his legs and maneuvers carefully to keep his hands between your thighs. His middle finger runs through your slit, palm putting pressure on your clit.

He's rushing more than normal, mouth crushing yours again in a kiss so heavy it makes you gasp. You feel like you're imagining it but each time you pull back - his teeth sink into your lips until they're throbbing from how hard he's bitten them up.

He's possessive. Always has been. He's territorial over you in one way or another over everything, but it's usually only when you threaten to leave. There's a merit to what Gojo said about keeping you held down. But even in that, there's never any emotion stronger than annoyance to follow your little tantrums. You wouldn't call what you feel now desperation by any stretch.

But it's something more then simple possession and it makes you ache.

"I wasn't gonna do anything with him." You say half-way between a breath. You see his jaw tick with irritation at the mere thought. "It was just for fun—"

He quiets you with his fingers. With his hands, rough - spitting hard on your clit from where above making it splatter against your thighs. His fingers fingers the thick layer of spit and drag them down against your throbbing clit to make it wetter. He touches you hard and fast, places kisses against your jaw and collar before sinking his teeth into the clothed shape of your tits.

His fingers find your pussy not long after. Thick, scarred, intrusive - he slips them in one at a time. As much as he knows you can take until he touches that spot inside of you that leaves your whole body tingling. Knuckle deep, he presses his palms up against your clit to make sure you have the right friction. You moan his name loud, eyes rolling up into your head,

The windows are starting to fog.

"Sukuna,"

He grabs hold of your face with free hand, bordering on a snarl. It's mean you think, but more then that there's a genuine frustration to it that makes you shiver almost shamefully.

"You're mine." He sneers. You feel your cunt twitch unhelpfully at but Sukuna doesn't budge. Doesn't even go to make fun of you He just keeps growling, leaning in to kiss you - forcing his tongue into your mouth and pulling away again. "Get close with that bastard and I'll kill him."

Your stomach flutters in arousal at the aggression in it. The unreasonable, unhelpful, trained part of your brain nearly screams. He wants you, he wants you, he wants. It makes you wanna—

"G-gonna—gonna cum, fuck, Sukuna."

He kisses you again, murmuring against your lips. "Cum,"

Your thighs clamp around Sukuna's wrists as he continues to finger you, grinding yourself the edge of his palm as you ride out your high. Your voice pitches into a high whine, spine arching. It's rushed but intense, scratching the itch but not enough to tamp down the heat completely. You squirt around his fingers in a full blown gasp and find you can barely get your head above water.

You cum hard, convulsing. He doesn't move his hand until you grab him by the wrist and shake your head. Surprisingly, he listens easily and pulls away.

You pause and stare at him after you've caught your breath.

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Stay the fuck away from that guy."

You roll your eyes. "He's right. It's starting to sound like you love me or something. I wasn't gonna sleep with him anyway so chill out."

He scoffs. "Don't even fucking dream of it. I'd kill you both."

You take a second to look at him. You can't read him to save your life. But he's looking back at you, into you maybe, in a way that makes you wonder if there's something about him you're missing. You wrap your arms around his neck just to see if he'll tell you to stop clinging.

He doesn't though.

"Did you really come all the way here 'cause of what Yuu-chan sent you?"

He glares at you. "Are you deaf? Didn't I say that?"

"But then it sounds like you were jealous."

He rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

"....You were jealous? Really?"

"Shut up already," He says. And maybe it's the alcohol but you swear his face goes warm. "And seriously stay away from that idiot. If I see some shit like that again I'm locking you in the house and chaining you to my bed."

"Weird proposal but okay."

"Dumbass."

"You love me,"

He rolls his eyes and goes to kiss you. Doesn't deny it, you notice. You pretend not to be giddy.

"Whatever."

✮ extended authors note ; hi!! i hope sukunas personality made sense here.

my point with sukuna in modern is that i think it takes away a lot of his unsavory aspects but the deep sense of possession and ownership sort of stays. this is a modern au so he's different from canon in many ways.

he has a hard time committing but he also does not do things he doesnt want to so him spending time with you and wanting your loyalty are both genuine desires. he understands why you're entertaining gojo's flirting and rationally knows it's unfair to want loyalty from you.

but he's into you so he gets. fucking pissed anyway. skjsjd. anyways i hope u liked it and i hope it made sense!! i just wanted to add this incase!!!

[mattscoquette]

𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑷 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑫𝒀𝑰𝑵𝑮 | 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒀𝑨𝑳𝑬

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉.. you have another study session with chris and he suggests a way to really help him remember

smut, oral (male receiving), swearing, stripping, kinda sub!chris, use of y/n, frat boy!chris, college au

2.9k words

chris’ eyebrows furrowed as he peered down at the textbook in front of him, trying his hardest to try to absorb what he was actually reading. you smiled softly at his actions, finding it almost endearing how hard he was trying. it was only basic american history, but to chris it might as well have been written in latin.

“okay,” you spoke softly, watching as his gaze met yours, “tell me what you read.”

chris closed his eyes and exhaled, as if to mentally prepare himself to recite the text he just read. you had been trying a new method of studying with chris, deeming it nearly foolproof. well, for you, but any study method for you was easy. you would have chris read a chapter section by section, then try to reiterate everything he read out loud and teach it to you. “well,” he began, his expression puzzled as he thought, “the pilgrims came from england because they wanted land.” you smiled, watching as he continued to speak. “and, uh.. they wanted religious freedom too.”

“yeah,” you grinned, nodding your head, “what else?”

his face dropped, looking at you like you were just speaking a foreign language. “what do you mean what else?”

“i mean,” you giggled, “why else did they come here? where did they land, what were the colonies like, there’s more to it. you need to remember details.”

chris groaned loudly, burying his head in his crossed arms as he flopped his head down on his desk. he peaked up at you, his brown curls that were tucked into his backwards hat falling loose over his eyes.

you knew he’d been working hard, getting his grades up high enough to keep him on the lacrosse team. however once they were where they needed to be, they had to stay there. much to your delight, you had been tutoring (and fucking) chris for longer than anticipated. you’d figured that you would have just been another number added to his body count after the frat party, but chris was very adamant on wanting to see you again. and being his tutor three days a week made it so much easier. you both decided studying at each other’s dorms would be a more sufficing place to study, finding the privacy much more convenient than the library.

“y/n this is so hard,” he complained, his voice whiny as he looked up at you, “i can’t remember anything.”

you pouted slightly, sympathizing for him as you ran your fingers across his shoulders in attempts to help him relax. he sighed, eyes meeting yours as he looked up at you. “you’re doing really well,” you told him quietly as you scratched his back, “your average went up a whole letter grade in a month while you have been playing lacrosse. that’s not easy.”

“i’m gonna fail my test next week if i can’t remember this shit.” he mumbled into his crossed arms as he sighed.

you hummed, continuing to trace your nails along his back over his sweatshirt. “let’s take a break, hm? your brain is probably fried right now.”

chris tilted his head back against the chair, leaning down and sprawling his legs out underneath the desk, his arms crossing over into his face. “everything i try doesn’t work.” he grumbled.

you halt your movements on his back, your brows furrowing. “what do you mean?”

“every method of studying you’ve taught me. nothing works. flash cards, blurting, re writing notes. it won’t stay in my brain, like, at all.” chris says, looking over at you. “you look confused.”

“i am,” you murmur, “but you’ve passed your tests. you got Bs and even a few As. what do you mean it isn’t working?”

chris buries his face in his hands on his desk, trying his best to explain it. in the last month, he was convinced it’s been the hardest he ever had to work in school, and it seemed to have been getting the best of him. “it’s like, i learn this shit, but not all of it stays in my brain. i’m only, like, 70% sure of the answers i put on tests and whatever. i need to remember.”

you look at him, drawing your hand back into your lap and crossing them together. you look down at your lap blink, trying to think of a new method of studying. everything you tried had worked for you, how hard can it be for chris to learn? sure, he is nowhere near your academic level, but studying a skill you can learn, the same way you can learn how to play lacrosse.

“well,” you begin slowly, “are there any … ideas you may have? maybe some sort of association we can work on-”

chris perks up at this. “association?”

you blink again, nodding slowly. “yeah, like … maybe we can try and relate something to what you’ve just read, and then that association will help you remember?”

you’ve never tried this method before. hell, you never even have thought about it before, you were just trying to put yourself in chris’ shoes and rack your brain on how you can get him to remember.

he’s smirking now. it’s working.

“i have an idea,” he nearly purrs, leaning in closer towards you, “you strip for me.”

your eyes are wide as you look at chris. “strip?” you sputter, “like, like how?”

now he’s got a cheshire cat grin smile plastered on his face. he nods, eyeing you up and down. “come on, y/n/n, it’ll be fun,” he coaxes, “i’ll remember all this shit so clearly if i associate it with seeing you in just your panties.”

you smirk softly, your eyes flickering between his lips and bright blue eyes. “fine,” you say, “but you better get an A on this test or we’re back to flashcards.”

he smiles wide and leans in to peck your lips, pulling away to return to his abandoned open textbook, finding where he had left off. “okay, so,” he grinned, turning to look at you, “how are we doing this?”

now it’s your turn to smile. “i think a reward system will do - for every correct answer to a question i give, i’ll take a piece of my clothes off. deal?”

chris swallows hard, his eyes wide as he nods. he isn’t used to you being the one calling the shots, and he can already feel his dick twitching at the thought. “y-yeah. that’s cool, that’s cool.”

you smile as you watch the brunette not-so-subtly re-adjust his shorts and return to his book, looking even more engaged than before. this time, he actually studies the text, taking in as much information as his brain will hold. before he even realizes, forty five minutes have gone by, and he’s finished the chapter.

he looks up, turning to you, closing the book. “okay, i’m ready. hit me.”

a grin creeps across your face, sitting up straight as you turn to face chris. “tell me about jamestown.”

chris inhales, closing his eyes as he recalls the paragraphs upon paragraphs he just read. “it was the first colony.”

you smile, nodding for him to continue.

“it was in virginia. john smith, like, ran it. he taught all the settlers how to farm and shit so the colony would survive.” he says, looking to you for reassurance almost, and exhales happily when he sees you smiling and nodding.

“good job,” you say in a sultry voice, your hands crossed across your chest, toying with the ends of your shirt, “tell me more about the early colonies.”

chris’ eyes go wide as he watches you tease him, his erection growing more and more as he tries to focus.

“there was a fuck ton in new england. plymouth was the big one, that was here in mass. they came on the mayflower and wanted to be separated from the church. so, uh, they became puritans.”

you can’t help but smile. you feel like a proud parent watching their kid walk for the first time. you life your shirt over your head, revealing your laced bra, leaving very little to chris’ imagination. he swallows hard, eyes raking over you and your body, his dick fully hard now and poking up against his sweat shorts.

“my eyes are up here chris,” you smile slyly, leaning forward to tilt his chin back up to you. “tell me about the puritans.”

chris swallows hard, slowly bringing his eye back up to you, breathing heavily. you could tell this was really getting to him, watching as he tried to think of something other than your tits. “they didn’t want to be a part of the church of england anymore. they wanted to, like, purify it or whatever.”

“or whatever?” you smirked, cocking your head to the side, “i don’t think ‘or whatever’ will pass you on a test.”

he just stares at you blankly, sitting there topless at his desk, before processing what you had just told him. he shakes his head, trying to focus. “yeah, um, they didn’t agree with the church of england. they thought it was too catholic, and they wanted to make their own practice.”

you grinned nodding your head. “good job.” you tell him seductively, standing up slowly as you maintain eye contact. your hands reach around to the back of your pleated skirt, unzipping it and letting it pool around your ankles. you reveal your lace and frilly panties that match your bra, chris’ eyes going wide. you sit back down, only this time on his lap, his clothed dick pressed against you.

you smile at him, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “you remembering okay?”

his face has no color as he nods, his throat going dry. “yeah,” he stammers, “keep ‘em coming.”

you dip your head down, leaving feather-like kisses up his neck, stopping when you get to his ear, biting the lobe softly before speaking quietly again. “one more question, then i’m all yours, think you can do it?”

chris shudders against you, nodding his head as you press a few more kisses to his neck, pulling away as you look down at him. “what was the mayflower compact?”

he closes his eyes, his mind buzzing with the thought of you as it goes blank. he tries, he really does, to remember what the hell you just asked him. but the only thing swirling around his head right now was you sitting in his lap half naked. he looks up at you, shaking his head. “i can’t remember.” he says softly.

“no?” you pout teasingly, beginning to climb off his lap, “guess i need to put something back on.”

“wait,” he replies, a little too quickly, pulling you back on to his lap by your hips, “i know it, lemme think.”

you grin, watching his eyes screw shut again, racking his brain on what it possibly could be. “that … that was the contract, right? that all the settlers signed when they got to plymouth?”

“are you asking me or telling me?” you grin, running your hand down his chest, playing with the strings of his hoodie as you leaned in close.

“telling you.” he whispered, eyes flicking from your own down to your lips. he leans in, about to press his mouth to yours when you pull away.

“what was the significance of it?”

“fuck i don’t know,” chris whines, furrowing his brows while he looks up at you, “it was to make laws, all the settlers signed it to agree to be civil.”

you giggled, finally giving in and pressing your lips to chris’ and sighing softly. he was quick to try and deepen the kiss, having grown so needy from the thirty minutes of teasing you’d just put him through. chris’ hands roamed across your hips and ass, squeezing the flesh roughly. you decided to let chris take control as you opened your mouth slightly, letting him explore its insides as his tongue swirled around yours.

you moaned into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck while you pressed your chest against chris’ and leaned back slightly. you could tell he was desperate from the way he was grinding your hips against his, and began to trail kisses down his neck. you sucked and licked at the skin, leaving small dark love bites in your wake. chris made no attempts to conceal his noises, soft moans and whines escaping his lips as your lips made their round across his neck, your hips sure to have bruises where his fingers dug into you.

“tell me what you want.” you sighed into his ear, slowly grinding your hips down against his clothed erection. you kissed and nipped at the spot behind chris’ ear, earning a quiet moan.

“your mouth, ma, need you to suck me.” chris whispered, tilting his head to its side to give you better access to his neck. you pulled away with a grin plastered across your lips, eyes flicking up and down his face.

“you want my mouth?” you repeated in a teasing tone, leaning in to hover your lips above chris’. “you think you worked hard enough today to deserve it?”

he nodded frantically, damn near ready to beg you if he had to. “please baby, i wanna feel your pretty lips around me.”

between his dick rutting against your heat and the noises he was making, you were already soaked. but, right now was about chris, and giving him his reward. you began to slowly slide off of his lap and onto the ground, perched on your knees in front of chris. you looked up at him with wide eyes, not looking away as you teasingly ran your hands up his thighs. he was a whining mess, eager for you. your fingers played with the waistband of his shorts, steadily pulling them down his legs and pooling them around his ankles.

chris was practically rock hard at this point, feeling like he could cum from the slightest of touches from you. he sighed shakily as he felt your nails delicately trace his bulge over his navy boxers, murmuring to him softly.

“you’ve been working so hard lately,” you spoke in a whispered tone, “you want me to help relieve from stress, hm?”

“mhm, yeah.” chris groaned, his head thrown back as his hands came up to cup your face, thumbs tracing your jawline. you tilted your head slightly, leaving a few pecks to chris’ hands before turning your attention back to his dick. you sighed gently, leaning in to press open mouth kisses to chris’ cock, tongue occasionally darting out across the fabric.

you pulled back, flicking your eyes back up to his and you flashed him a sly smile. your fingers dipping below the band of his boxers and finally pulled them down. chris’ dick instantly sprung up against his abdomen, his tip red and leaking, aching for your touch.

a small moan escaped your lips as you took his cock in your hand, thumb running across the slit as you smeared precum all along his shaft. you leaned down, placing a small and quick kiss to his tip as you sighed, “god chris you’re so big.”

a strangled groan ripped from chris’ throat as he peered down at you with hooded eyes and parted lips, awaiting your next move. you licked a long stripe up the length of his dick while your gaze was locked with his, maintaining eye contact as you took him in your mouth.

chris’ hands were instantly threaded through your hair, holding your head as you sucked on his dick, tongue swirling around the tip. you began to bob your head on his shaft, deep throating as best you could and jerking what you couldn’t fit. his head was tossed back in pleasure, his chest heaving while he guided you up and down his length.

“mm, come on mama, you can take it all, breath through your nose.” chris moaned, wrapping your hair in a ponytail as he fucked your face, his dick repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. tears pricked your eyes as you inhaled deeply, your nose nearly pressing against chris’ stomach. your tongue repeatedly twisted and licked around chris' cock while you continued to suck, the motions of your mouth nearing chris to his orgasm.

chris gutted a choked moan, his voice cracking. “thaaat’s it, pretty girl, gettin’ me so close.”

you let out a soft sigh around him, sending vibrations through chris’ body. that was enough to send chris over the edge, a low grown coming from his chest as hot, white spurts of cum shot down your throat. you pulled off of his cock with a small pop, your lips wet as you stuck your tongue out to show him you had swallowed it all.

his hands loosened from around your hair to grip your chin, leaning down and pulling your face close to his. he pressed his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as he tasted himself on your tongue. he pulled away slowly, a faint smile playing on his lips and he looked at you. “thank you.”

“don’t mention it,” you giggled, kissing his cheek quickly, “now, how do you think you’ll do on the test next week?”

“what test?”

© mattscoquette

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ i am sooooooo happy with how this came out fr !! i started writing this in august i think ?? i truly love this “series” sm i think i might make fratboy!chris an au ….. but anyway thank u guys sm for all the love and being so patient with this !! sry if i tagged anyone on the taglist twice i don’t expect to have so many people on it but thank u SO MUCH !!!!! ik ive been talking ab making a part two to yale for so long now im happy its done :) i hope u all enjoyed <3

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 5

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“You want to talk about it?” Her mate asked her flatly and Mor couldn’t help but grimace.

"No," Mor said simply, her tone clipped. She had been hoping to avoid this conversation, but it seemed as though Emerie was not willing to let her off that easily. "There's nothing to talk about."

Her mate just snorted. “Yeah, absolutely nothing,” she said sarcastically. “How about the fact that the male that spend 500 years being in love with you, met his mate 2 years ago and hasn’t said a single thing about it to any member of his family?”

"What do you want me to say, Em?" she asked with a sigh.

At the start…before Nesta had forced her to actually confront what she was feeling…Before she actually thought about the fact, that no…it wasn’t actually funny for Azriel to keep their mate from them…and it also wasn’t normal for him. Of course, Azriel liked his privacy, it was something that he fiercely guarded, but he was also…he wouldn’t have actually hidden away his mate from his family. He would have introduced her, would have invited her to birthdays and Winter Solstice and Starfall…

But he hadn’t. 

He had rather hidden away every trace of that relationship than actually talk to any of them about it. 

“Nesta told me that she laid into you,” Emerie said with a shrug. “You did use Azriel, you know that, Mor.”

Mor's expression hardened at Emerie's words. 

Emerie was right. She had used him. 

Of course, at the time…she had been desperate, afraid of the feelings that she had been having…willing to hide them… but the way she had gone about it hadn’t been…It hadn’t been fair. 

She just didn’t like to reflect on that. 

"It doesn't matter now, Em," she said flatly. "It's in the past."

“Is it?” Emerie asked, sharply. “You never tried to actually talk to Azriel about it. You just expected him to be alright with it. Alright with us,” she continued. “He has never once been anything but polite to me, but quite frankly he would have had every right to be pissed off.”

Mor just so managed not to grimace. 

Not a single word. Not a single gesture. Nothing but politeness and kindness had come from Azriel after her and Emerie’s mating bond had snapped. Nothing. 

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I'm racked with guilt every damn day?" she asked her mate, turning away from from Emerie, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I know that I hurt him, Em. I know that I used him. But what do you want me to do about it now? It's in the past, it's done. I can't change it."

Emerie was silent for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "You can apologize," she said softly. "You can try to mend what you broke. And maybe, just maybe, he'll forgive you."

Mor let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Apologize? For what?" she asked, her voice dripping with self-mockery. "For using him? For making him think he had a chance with me when he never did? For breaking his heart when I knew damn well how he felt about me?"

Emerie's expression hardened again. "Yes," she said firmly. "For all of those things. Because at the end of the day, Mor, you used him. And he deserves better than that."

Mor's shoulders slumped, the fight leaving her all at once. She knew that Emerie was right. She knew that she had been selfish, that she had hurt Azriel in a way that could never be undone. But the thought of facing him, of admitting her mistakes and opening herself up to the pain and rejection that surely awaited her…it was terrifying.

“I imagine he had a few very good reasons to keep Irena a secret from all of us,” Emerie said softly. “Regardless of what feelings he once harboured for you…he was always your friend, Mor. And he kept his mate a secret from you.”

Mor sighed, her shoulders slumped. "I know," she said softly. "I know. I thought it was jsut Az being Az but it’s not, is it?”

Emerie reached out, placing a gentle hand on Mor's arm. "No," she said softly. "It's not. It's him protecting something that he loves. And I don't blame him for that."

***

“Are you hungry?” Azriel asked his mate softly.

Madja had checked on her the evening before…had told her to keep off her leg for a few days and plied her with more potions, bandages the bruises again… given her more sleeping draught. It hasn’t stopped Irena from waking up twice with nightmares.

"No," Irena said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have much of an appetite." She looked pale, her eyes dull and lacking their usual sparkle. It was clear that she hadn't slept well, and his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

Shock had dissipated and left his mate…grieving and sad and Azriel curled himself tighter around her.

He could feel the weight of her sadness and grief, and it broke his heart to see her this way. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close and hoping to offer some comfort and support.

“You need to eat something, love,” he insisted softly. “Whatever you want.” 

He really didn’t care if all she had in her stomach were her favourite cookies, at least that would be something. 

Irena shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I don't want anything," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "Just...just stay here with me."

Azriel's heart tugged at her words, and he pulled her even closer, cradling her against him. "Of course," he whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, love,” he promised her fiercely. “But you still need to eat something,” he whispered. “How about the shadows get you one of those blueberry pastries you like?”

Irena sighed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Alright," she said softly. "I do love those pastries." She looked up at him, her eyes still dull but a small hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He didn’t even need to order the shadows to do anything, they had one of her favourite blueberry pastries on a plate on the bed side table in a breath. *Please tell me you left the money,* he told them mentally.

The shadows seemed almost indignant. *Of course we left it. Do you think we're thieves?* Azriel smiled at their tone."

"Of course not," he said aloud, reaching for the pastry and offering it to Irena. "You're just very efficient." The shadows swirled around him almost smugly at the praise, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“Thank you,” Irena thanked them softly. The shadows preened.

Azriel chuckled again, watching as the shadows swirled around Irena, as if basking in her gratitude. It was cute how they seemed almost puppy-like in their desire for her attention. 

He was amazed, as always, by how much the shadows adored her.

He had never expected them to warm up to anyone else, especially not as quickly as they had to his mate. 

Suddenly…as soon as he had properly introduced his shadows to her…as soon as it was clear that she wasn’t going to start flinching away from them or from him if they showed up to badger her…as soon as that was clear, they had started to dote on her. Seemingly so pleased that there was another person that wasn’t scared off them. 

The shadows and Irena had formed a bond that defied explanation, and it made Azriel so happy to see the two things he cherished most in the world getting along so well.

(Even if he sometimes got jealous that the shadows never had doted on him like they did on Irena. He got porridge for breakfast but Irena got the ridiculous expensive pastries from the newest high end bakery. Irena got bubble bath, while he only got salt dumped into his bath water and got told that it was good for his muscles.) 

He watched as the shadows swirled around Irena, nuzzling against her like cats seeking affection. Irena laughed softly as they tickled at her ears and played with her hair.

He knew that his shadows were often feared and misunderstood, but with Irena they were playful and affectionate. It was like she had unlocked a whole new side of them, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of them interacting so sweetly with her.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "I never thought I'd see the day when my shadows would be so smitten," he teased, his lips curving into a small smile. "I should be jealous, but I can't help but find it adorable."

Irena laughed, her eyes sparkling for the first time that day. "They're so sweet," she said, reaching up to brush her fingers through the shadows that surrounded her. "It's like they're a different side of you."

Azriel chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I guess they are a part of me, in a way," he said. "And they seem to have a mind of their own, especially when it comes to you." He watched as the shadows nuzzled against her cheek, almost vying for her attention.

"They're quite taken with you," he said with a grin. "I don't blame them. Still, it's strange to see them so affectionate towards someone else." He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"But it makes me happy to see them like this," he said softly, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "It's like you're bringing out a side of them that I never knew existed. And it's a beautiful thing to witness." He leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead. "Just like you."

There was a knock at the door.

*The High Lord and the Ancient One,* the shadows offered. *And the healer.*

*I’ll deal with them,* Azriel said with a snort.

“Finish your breakfast, alright?“ he told Irena softly as he slid out of the bed. Irena nodded, a small smile on her face. 

"Thank you," she said softly, watching as he got up to answer the door.

“Madja,” he greeted the healer drily. “Irena just had breakfast. The bruises are already lightening,” he reported.

Madja nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Good," she said. "Keep an eye on her for the next couple of days, make sure she takes it easy. The leg needs to heal properly." He opened the door further, letting Madja slip in, and could just hear, "How are you feeling, my dear?" From Madja and Irena’s soft answer.

Which meant that Azriel turned towards his brother. “What do you want?” He demanded from Rhys, his voice sharp. 

Rhys held his hands up in surrender. "Calm down, Az," he said, his voice low. "I just wanted to check on Irena. Amren looked at the spellbook that Merrill was using,” Rhys explained.

“And?” Azriel asked flatly.

Did it actually matter? Merrill had been stupid and arrogant and a thousand other things. The spell didn’t seem to have done anything to Irena…her injuries had been thanks to the debris that had resulted in the spell going absolutely haywire, killing Merrill and seemingly exploding her office. 

“It was written in a language I do not know, but the best match is ancient Illyrian,” Amren gave back drily. 

Azriel's expression darkened at Amren's words. "Ancient Illyrian?" he repeated, his mind racing. "That can't be good."

Not at all. He didn’t even want to think about what his ancestors had come up with. 

"It seems to be a very old dialect," Rhys explained. "One that hasn't been spoken or written in centuries. It'll take some time to decipher it, but we're working on…”

“It seems to be a healing spell. Probably used in childbirth,” Amren cut him off. “When it didn’t find a pregnant female to latch onto, it redoubled back onto Merrill.”

"So Merrill's own spell backfired on her," Azriel mused. "And Irena got caught in the crossfire." He rubbed a hand over his face. “Has the spell done anything to Irena?” He demanded.

“Madja didn’t think so,” Rhys said carefully. “I wanted to check on Irena if that’s alright with you.”

He crossed his arms, not willing to entertain that even for a moment. 

“No,” he said flatly. 

“Let him in, Azriel,” his mate said softly, and he turned towards her, staring at Irena. 

The shadows were already dragging a fur around her shoulders, fluffing the pillows behind her, as Madja bandaged her leg.

Irena met his gaze, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He didn’t want Rhys anywhere near her, Azriel was certain of that. And still…an still…

“Fine,” Azriel growled, stepping aside to let Rhys through. "Don't overstay your welcome," he warned Rhys. 

Rhys nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips at Azriel's protectiveness. He clapped a hand on Azriel's shoulder reassuringly. "I won't stay long," he reassured his brother. "I just want to make sure she's alright."

Amren rolled her eyes, but for once didn’t say another word as Azriel closed the door. 

“High Lord,” Irena greeted Rhys, every inch the perfect lady even while she was laid up in her bed.

Rhys inclined his head, smiling gently at Irena, while Azriel already crossed the room to sit at her bedside, taking her hand in both of his. She reassuringly squeezed it. 

"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked her. 

Irena gave him a small smile, shrugging her shoulders a little. "I've been better," she admitted. "But I'm healing, I suppose." She gestured to the leg, Madja was bandaging once again.  "Madja says I'll be good as new in a few days. And I’ve had worse,” she added flatly.

Rhys chuckled softly, his eyes softening with concern. "I don't doubt it," he said. "But still, it must have been quite a harrowing experience." He paused for a moment, looking at her intently. "I wanted to speak to you about what happened," he said gently. "If you feel up to it, of course."

Irena nodded, steeling herself for whatever questions Rhys might have. "Go ahead," she said quietly.

"I just wanted to ask you about what you saw when the spell hit you," Rhys said carefully. "Do you remember anything after the initial blast? Could you show me?”

“No.” Azriel snapped. “You are not going read her mind, Rhysand.” Not in a million years. 

He nearly bared his teeth at his High Lord in annoyance, already regretting letting him into their room. 

Irena was healing.

Rhys held up his hands in surrender, his eyes flickering to Azriel for a moment. "I wasn't going to do anything without her permission,  brother," he assured him calmly.

“It’s alright,” Irena agreed with him. “It’s fine, Azriel,” she assured him softly.  Azriel tensed for a moment, torn between wanting to protect her and respecting her wishes. "I want to do this." She turned her attention back to Rhys. "Go ahead."

Rhys nodded, his expression serious. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low. "It might be difficult to recall the memories, but I need you to try."

Irena just inclined her head. "I'm sure," she said firmly. "Just...just go ahead."

Azriel watched, holding her hand tightly. Rhys was well trained at using his daemati abilities, but that didn’t mean that…

A moment later a soft shudder run through his mate, and Azriel growled. 

“Thank you, Irena,” Rhys said quickly, clearly already withdrawing from her mind.

“What kind of spell was it?” Itena asked her voice hoarse. 

Rhys sighed, "The spellbook was written in some kin of ancient language, we think some dialect of Illyrian. The spell itself was healing spell, probably used for childbirth," he explained. "The magic was searching for a pregnant female to latch onto, but when it couldn’t find one, it became more volatile," he said, his expression grave. "And that's when it found you, Irena. It was a complete accident, but the effects were still devastating."

“Did it do…anything to me?” Irena asked Madja quietly.

Madja looked up from the bandages she was applying to Irena's leg, her expression softening as she took in Irena's worried expression.

Madja studied her for a moment, her eyes flickering over the various scrapes and bruises on Irena's body. "Not as far as I can tell,” Madja said finally. "You're healing nicely, and there are no lasting effects to your body that I can see.”

It was something. It was reassuring to know that her physical injuries were being healed, and that there were no lasting effects.

Azriel squeezed Irena's hand, relief flooding through him at Madja's words. 

It was good. Some form of healing being found…

And the last thing Azriel had expected, where Irena’s next words, as she addressed Rhysand. 

“I’ll hand over my duties to Madja, as soon as I can,” Irena said softly. “I am aware that after what happened I am no longer suitable to make any more research involved decisions. I take full responsibility for what happened.“

Her voice was even, measured. Calm. 

Even when he could see the storm in her eyes…even when he could see…

She loved her job. He knew that she loved her job. She adored it in fact. And she excelled in it too. Irena seeme to be made for her job in the House of Wind. And to hear her contemplating giving it all up, just because of an accident that hadn’t been her fault at all…

Azriel opened his mouth to protest but Rhys spoke before he could say anything. "That won't be necessary," Rhys said firmly. "Irena, what happened was a complete accident. You had no control over what happened, and we all know that." He shook his head, his expression serious. "You can't blame yourself for what happened."

Rhys leaned forward slightly, his gaze intent on Irena. "If anyone is to blame, it's Merrill," he said softly. "She was the one who was messing with magic beyond her understanding, she didn’t follow your orders and she was the one who unleashed that spell. You were just an innocent bystander in all of this."

He paused, looking between Azriel and Irena, his expression softening. "We will need to take precautions going forward, so nothing like that can ever happen again." he said carefully. "But we can figure that out together. And you do not need to give up your duties, Irena. We need you."

Irena looked down at the blankets in her lap, her fingers fiddling with a loose thread. "But what if something like this does happen again?" she asked softly.

Rhys shook his head, his expression firm. "It won't," he said, his voice filled with conviction. “None of what happened was your fault,” Rhys repeated firmly.

Azriel nodded in agreement, his grip on Irena's hand tightening. "He's right," he said gruffly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, love. This is on Merrill, not on you. "

“And you can’t quit because otherwise we’ll all drown under paperwork. Well, more than we already do,” Rhys said with a sigh.

Irena chuckled softly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Well, I suppose I can't let that happen," she said wryly. "I can’t let the high Lord deal with even more paperwork, can I?“ she said drily.

Rhys moved to stand but then he suddenly froze. “You have been doing this on purpose,” he suddenly said, staring at her.

“Doing what?” Irena asked, cocking the head to the side. “Make sure that the library generates plenty of paperwork that needs the High Lord’s personal attention?”Rhys stared at her for a moment, his expression a mixture of surprise and awe. 

"You really are quite devious, aren’t you?" he said with a small laugh. "I never would have thought you’d be using your job specifically to ensure that I spend even more time doing paperwork."

“I don’t.” Irena said flatly. “It was petty revenge.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. "Petty revenge?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What on earth did I do to deserve such punishment?"

Irena just stared at him for a moment. “Maybe you should think a bout how you have been treating my mate.”

What? 

Azriel had had no clue that…

Azriel hadn’t known about that. Hadn’t had the faintest inkling. 

Irena had been making sure that Rhys had more paperwork to go through?!

Rhys looked at him for a moment before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. "I suppose I deserved that one," he admitted. 

Azriel just grunted, his expression flat. "You deserved a lot more than that," he muttered. But there was no real anger in his voice. He was too tired for anger at Rhys. All he cared about right now was Irena. 

“You really are a perfect match,” Rhys said with some amusement. “And I do owe Azriel an apology,” he said simply. "I’ve been harsh on you, Azriel. And I haven’t been fair. I’ve been treating you like a tool, instead of like a brother, and I owe you an apology for that.”

Azriel was taken aback by Rhys's words. He had grown used to the way Rhys treated him - as a weapon first, and a brother second. Hearing Rhys acknowledge his mistakes was…certainly unexpected, and it left him feeling a little off-balance.

He paused for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to respond. Finally he looked up at Rhys, his expression serious. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I appreciate the apology."

Rhys nodded, his expression sincere. "I mean it," he said quietly. "I'll do better moving forward."

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I miss your tummy" you pout.

"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

[aingeal98]

I think, after No Man's Land was over, Babs was probably the one to go with Cass to get a full doctor's assessment. Bruce probably read through all the files afterwards but Babs was the one sitting in the room with Cass as the doctor explained all the symptoms of malnourishment he could see, the state Cass's teeth and hair were in, the clear signs of trauma she displayed, all the impact almost 10 years of being a homeless child constantly running from her father had on her. And that's before they even got into all the damage done by the years of David Cain's abuse.

Cass wouldn't have really understood what they were saying. Just noticed that the doctor seemed like he wanted to throw up and Babs looked like if he kept talking in another few minutes she would either start crying or get angry. Which is weird because the only thing on screen is a photo of all Cass's leg scars and she doesn't get the horror. Yeah he shot her when she was six yeah that wound got reopened infected when she was nine and on the run and became an even nastier scar after months of pain. She survived and none of it made her a worse fighter so who cares.

I think Babs, looking at this teenager who's now living with her, under her care, so unbothered staring at an x-ray of her skull with visible thickness in certain places where the bone clearly had to heal over large cracks, would feel the weight of a life in her hands in a way she never had before. And it would terrify her.

[empyrealarthropod]

i don’t dislike isha as a concept. i think she could have been a good character and her relationship to jinx could have been something unique that took jinx’s character in a new direction.

but instead, she was never really her own person, she was used as a plot device. they didn’t do anything new with either their dynamic or the actual progression of how their story went.

oh, this person who used to want to fight against piltover has found themself in charge of a young child, and this child is now their priority above their past mission. we’ve already seen that, multiple times. a huge part of season 1 was showing how that same situation affected vander and silco in different ways. they just made jinx into vander 2.0 in a way that felt too heavy handed and too much of a 1 to 1 copy to actually be an interesting parallel.

and they didn’t bring anything new to it, like showing how the parental figure losing the child instead of the other way around would change them and their motives, because after jinx loses isha, her story is pretty much over. she puts her suicide on pause to help with the final battle, and then she dies. yeah, they’ll probably bring her out again briefly in a future show, but by then there’ll be a massive timeskip and her character will just be whatever they need it to be for the new region.

also, giving jinx someone close to her who loves her unconditionally and wants her to be what they see as her best self, who then dies in a way that she has some degree of responsibility for? that already happened too. it’s, again, not just a parallel, but an almost 1 to 1 repeat of what happened last season.

isha is a conglomeration of vander’s story with his kids, and silco’s story with his daughter. what she doesn’t get the chance to have is her own story.

[sillyuin]

hi <3! was wondering if i can get svt reaction to yn being completely oblivious to them flirting with her? subtle things like while she’s just ranting about her day they’d move closer to her and she’d absentmindedly put her hand on their chest to push them away still running her mouth, just completely unaware of what’s happening. and even the most obvious things like compliments or physical touch, yn is blind to it and it’s so frustrating to them

so yeah, hope you see this! ❤️

Hi! I'm sorry for being so late 😭 i've been very busy with job and housework, but it's finally here.

Svt reacts: Flirting vs clueless s/o. Who will win?

Yuin's note: barely proofread. I'ts 1 am and I'm tired.

Seungcheol. Staring at your face.

I mean, he likes to just stare at you as if he's watching the prettiest person in the world, but when Seungcheol wants to be especially flirty, he stares at you fondly and smiling with the whole intention to make your heart skip a beat, he even glances at your lips, as if he were trying to say something. Most of the time that's enough to make you really, really shy but when is not... Geez, he has to breathe in and ends up pouting a little (Probably one or two pecks will make him feel better).

Jeonghan. Teasing.

Is like his default love language, making harmless jokes to see you flustered all over him is just so fun to watch. But, is he really just trying to be a teaser, or is there something else behind? "I took the chair, but you can sit on my lap" he said one day, sitting at your desktop, with the most mischievous smile possible. But you didn't fall for his charm and as you kept your annoyed face, he stood up and sighed "Okay, all yours". And you better be ready because he's not forgetting so easy, and will keep teasing you just a little (yeah, a little) more than usual.

Joshua. Back hugging.

When Joshua wants your attention only and only for him, he goes where you are to hug you from the back, resting his chin on your shoulders and crossing his arms around your waist. Oh, he loves it so much is so tender, but he gets lowkey hurt when you don't react in any way because, how come you don't realize his intentions? Is really doing the dishes way more important than his warm hugs? Now, this is personal and Joshua won’t let you go, take it as a punishment for being so clueless (reward or punishment?).

Jun. Tickles.

For him, tickles is the perfect excuse to be closer to you. It's so obvious that hurts lol. Most of the time you melt in his touch, and you both end up laughing and sharing some kisses, but sometimes you're minding your business, too busy to realize that Jun wants to get your attention. Better get ready because you'll have a pouty little cat going around the apartment, and will NOT forget your offense unless you give him extra cuddles before bed.

Hoshi. Random "facts".

At the least appropriate time, he would come to find you. "Did you know that there is a minimum number of kisses that a person should receive per day to be healthy?" he says with a very serious expression on his face. And there you are, standing in the middle of the living room while you're brushing your teeth; your soulless expression says all. Hoshi turns around and pretends nothing happened, but in his mind, he's sitting in the corner staring at the walls.

Wonwoo. Making compliments out of nowhere.

He likes to pour you with sweet words, like how much he appreciates your homemade food, or that you did it great at work. From time to time, he thinks is fun to be a little sassy and his praises are very, very intentional. “New gloss?” he says, grinning at you “It looks good” and for some frigging reason you just start talking about how you got it? Babe, Wonu doesn’t care that much that you bought it because your favorite gloss wasn’t on stock, but now he feels a little shy to speak and just lets you tell the whole story.

Woozi. Playing with your hair.

When it comes to be openly flirty, Woozi tends to be a little coy. You rarely notice it since it's very common for him to be around you, caressing your hair and playing with the strands in complete silence. So when you get distracted he places a strand behind your ear, exposing your neck. But when he's so close to place a kiss, you jump like a scared kitten. "No! It tickles!" Woozi looks down, defeated, as you move away. "Sorry, be right back" and he locks himself in his room for the next hour.

Minghao. Holding your hand.

He thinks your hands are more than just pretty. Hao likes to take one of them when you're sitting by his side, scrolling on your phone or watching TV. He's so subtle that most of the times you don't feel how he traces your hand with his fingers and when you realize, it’s because your hands are intertwined and he’s holding his laughter. “How low you’ve been like this?” but Minghao just giggles. You end up doing the same and then resume your activity, letting him laughing low in embarrassment and biting his lips as a sign of frustration.

Mingyu. Resting on your lap.

He's very straightforward when it comes to flirting with you. Mingyu likes to wait patiently for you to sit on the couch or the bed and then he goes, at first making some (pretty obvious) questions "What are you doing?" "Is that a new book?" and as you're talking, his hands rest on your thigh, gently stroking your skin with his thumb, but you're so immerse in the topic and he goes completely unnoticed... And before you even notice, there's a flustered Mingyu resting his head on your lap, tracing small circles on your thigh as if he had been punished.

Dokyeom. Taking photos.

He already has a folder with your name and an unhealthy number of photos; Seokmin just never gets tired, you're so used to it that most of the time don't realize that he's actually trying to hit on you. "Just let me take a picture, you look so beautiful today!" And after giving him an awkward smile, you're getting back to your stuff.  Seokmin is a bit disappointed but with a bunch of new photos of his precious person, so is not that bad (at least is what he says to himself trying to not lose his mind).

Seungkwan. Scolding.

I know, it may sound like a bit harsh but when he's scolding you, Seungkwan tries to make it as tender as possible, it doesn't feel like scolding and actually, he uses this as a cheap excuse to be extra lovely. "Don't sleep too late, you're getting dark circles" he says in a soft voice while caressing your checks "you're too pretty for that, don't you think?". He waits for you to take the bait and when you laugh on him, saying that he's being a little dramatic, Seungkwan doesn't hide his disappointment. "Okay, keep watching your series" he says getting up from the couch "but don't you dare to complain later!"

Vernon. Placing his arm on your shoulders.

A classic that never dies and his favorite, Vernon likes to do it all the time: when watching movies, chatting, watching videos together; is a like a very subtle invitation to get closer to him, and somehow, most of the time you’re just minding your business and leave him waiting for you to notice. And yeah, he’s very patient, but everything has a limit. "Come here, babe" then he places his hand on your shoulder and brings you closer to his chest. And don't you dare to move, because there's no way he let you go now.

Dino. Calling your name.

Usually, he calls you by pet names or your name in diminutive, reserving the use of your name for special occasions. However, it doesn't always end the way he expected. “Did I do something wrong?” you ask him just after he called you by your name, and when Chan sees your big doe eyes, his smile fades. “Is just that… I feel like you’re mad at me”. At this point his intentions doesn’t matter anymore, he just hugs you and tries not cry in his disappointment.

[xx-obliviousfantasy-xx]

If movie theaters served freshly picked berried there would be more of a mess for workers to clean up and the sains would be so awful and I think some little kids would die

Having said that

Yeah I'd love to eat some fresh pucked berried at a theater. Perhaps WITH popcorn. Yk? I nice and refreshing mix of popcorn with raspberries and blackberries would probably heal me

Just keep the fucking god-awful blueberries away. I will literally shank you like I'm Ghostface 1997.

the for you page thinks I'm a gnome

[stellamarielu]

sweetheart

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: working late with your boss (who you have a massively embarrassing crush on) was a normal occurrence for you. not a normal occurrence? him finding your favorite smutty romance novel and asking too many questions about it.

content: mutual pining, nsfw themes, age gap i guess, not actual smut but there are implications, teasing, some dirty talk (bc let's be real it's "how would you have liked him to touch you" declan)

author's note: so this is the first writing i've posted on here because this man and his hairy chest have me in a chokehold. the internet deserves more rivals fics!

——————————————————————

It was the third Thursday in a row you found yourself still at work after everyone else had gone home. You were sat across from your boss, the only thing separating you was an office desk. The piece of furniture was obnoxiously oversized, but you were thanking the universe for it because if Declan was sat even an inch closer, he would probably be able to hear your heart pounding. You had such a ridiculous crush on him. You knew it was inappropriate, but you couldn’t seem to care less. So here you were working overtime just to sit and gawk at him. Pathetic.

Sometimes you swore there was some sort of tension between the two of you. The accidental stares that lingered a little too long. The careful touch of his hand on your lower back when he passed behind you. Sure, you were probably reading too far into it, but in the back of your mind you hoped that he saw you as more than a young naïve coworker. 

Your delusions were further fueled by Declan’s constant invitations to join him in his office on Thursday nights. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that you would stay late every single night if he asked you to. 

But of course, he knew. 

He knew you thought he was attractive. He knew that his presence made you nervous. He knew that you had an embarrassing schoolgirl crush on him, and he liked it. 

Not only did he like the idea of you wanting him, but Declan reciprocated it. He spent most days with his gaze trained on the work laid out in front of him to avoid eye contact with you. He knew the second your eyes met he wouldn’t be able to control the small smile that tugged at his lips. He would never admit it, but he lived for making you giggle. The sound of your laugh was irresistible. He would crack little jokes throughout the day just to hear it.

Your voice alone was like music to his ears- christ, even the way you said his name drove him insane. He could feel warmth spreading through his chest just thinking about it.

The thoughts he had about you were unbecoming. Thoughts a boss shouldn’t have about their employee let alone an employee that was almost half their age. 

So, he tried his best to suppress his feelings and treat you as he would any other coworker. But it sure as hell didn’t help when you were always so quick to stay late and help him with his work. Granted he knew by asking you to assist him after hours he was just digging himself deeper into this newfound obsession. But he couldn’t help it, he longed to be in your presence even if it was just an extra hour or two once a week. 

These nights were mostly filled with silence but the occasional banter about office drama or a Keats work that you both admired was enough to have him wrapped around your finger day after day.

“What was that article you were tellin’ me about?” His question breaks the silence that had been occupying the room for the last fifteen minutes. 

You look up from your busy work only to be met with his kind eyes. For a man that had no problem showing his angry side, you felt lucky that you so often got to experience a version of Declan that was calm and light-hearted. You sometimes thought he had a sweet spot for you, although you came to terms with it probably being because you reminded him of his daughter who was just a few years younger than you.  

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that. Hold on I think I have it in here.” You began the search for an article you had mentioned to him that morning. It was an old gossip piece that you thought would be good for him to use on the show tomorrow night. 

You began taking things out of your bag one by one trying your best to find the paper in your giant unorganized tote. Notepads, books, a handful of pens, and your favorite lipstick that you thought you lost months ago are now strewn across Declan’s desk as you continue digging through your belongings. 

A small chuckle escapes Declan making you stop your search for a split second. Your head snaps up expecting to see him looking at you in irritation for creating such a mess, instead you notice his attention on one of the books you had taken out of your bag. Looking down you realize your copy of Lizzie Vereker’s novel was sat on his desk. A novel that was well known for its extremely erotic contents… and your copy was so worn the spine was barely intact. 

Before you could try to say something to make the situation less mortifying Declan spoke, 

“I see you’ve read Lizzie’s book then.” 

There was no questioning his amusement. He seemed to be enjoying how awkward this was for you. 

“That Lizzie is a quirky gal, but a truly great author.” He finished and picked up the book thumbing through the pages. 

“She gave me a copy after the garden party last month. When she mentioned to me that she was a writer, this-” you said motioning to the book, “wasn’t exactly what I had in mind”

You giggled as you spoke and the second the sound left your lips Declan’s eyes met yours. There was something about his stare now that you couldn’t place. 

“So I take it you’ve read it then?” You asked him, needing to say something to keep yourself from full on passing out in embarrassment. You wish you had asked something else because you desperately needed to change the subject from the smutty pages Declan held in his hands. 

“My-“ He paused, “Maud read it years ago. I remember readin’ a bit of it myself. Absolute filth.” 

He was looking back down at the book while his hands found the worn spine, a smirk plastered on his face. 

Okay, so now he knew you were so miserably horny that you not only read the book, but you enjoyed it so much that you must’ve re-read it multiple times- hence the condition of the novel. 

“You certainly seem to be a fan of her work.”

With this comment your humiliation began turning into irritation. Was he trying to further embarrass you by implying that you’ve clearly enjoyed the book? Can a woman not read exceptionally horny literature in peace? Now you’re becoming annoyed by the whole conversation. Afterall, it’s really none of Declan’s business what you do in your free time.  

“Yeah, well I spend a lot of nights alone in my apartment Declan.” You deadpan. “I’ve found the dating pool in this town to be quite depressing and I’m 99% sure the men in that book are much better than anyone I would meet here anyway.” 

You haven’t been living here long, it’s been maybe three months since you got the job to be a production assistant on Declan’s show. You’ve been working so much that you haven’t had much time to scope out the town’s most eligible bachelors, but from what you’ve seen you’re not interested. Not to mention the inconveniently debilitating crush that you had on your boss keeping you from noticing anyone else at all. 

“Oh and why’s that?” He challenges. This time looking you straight in the eyes, a smirk still playing on his lips.

Alright, he wanted to keep this up so why not. Two could play at this game. 

“For starters, these men” You steal the book out of his hands, “are written by women. Meaning they have empathy, they’re emotionally expressive and socially aware. Seemingly simple character traits but you would be shocked by how many men I’ve met in the last few months who lack the basic complexity of a fictional character.”

His smirk has turned into a full-blown smile making your body feel warm. 

“Not to mention the men in this book are capable of making a woman cum not just once but multiple times in a row. Which seems to be an impossible task for every man I’ve been with.” You continue your rant. Declan’s eyes fixed on you.

“These guys are getting off on a woman’s pleasure” you tap your book, “truly enjoying making their partner feel good. Meanwhile in reality, most men don’t even care if you finish as long as they get theirs.”  The second the words leave your mouth you realize you’re talking about orgasms with your unbelievably handsome boss staring right at you and immediately feel the need to hide underneath the desk in front of you. 

You look at Declan and notice his expression has gone from playful to something more serious. His lips show no evidence of a smile, instead they’re now relaxed and somewhat parted. His deep brown eyes are slightly hooded, and you could’ve sworn you noticed his chest rising and falling at a rather quick pace. He waits a few moments before standing from his chair and slowly making his way to your side of the desk.

“Well sweetheart,” 

Your mouth gapes open at the words. He’s never called you that. But hearing the pet name fall from his lips in such a deep raspy tone sends shivers down your spine. 

“I’ll have you know the kind of men you’re talkin’ about from your book do indeed exist.”

No longer separated by the desk he now stood right next to you, close enough that you could smell his cologne and the cigarette smoke that lingered on his suede blazer. 

“Some men relish in their partner’s pleasure. They can’t get enough of the way their body reacts to their touch. The way they look so needy and desperate for release.” 

He stops for a brief second. His eyes slowly drop to your feet and take their sweet time coming back up to meet your eyes, steadily drinking in the sight of your body underneath him as you sit still in your chair.

“The pretty noises they make as they come undone.”

His Irish accent sounds heavier than normal, and his voice is hushed. Your body is frozen in place and the room suddenly feels ten degrees hotter. His words are stirring something thick and foggy in your head and you can’t think straight. You’re all too aware of how close you are to him. Your face a mere foot away from his crotch. You’re able to make out the intricately braided patterns in his belt and you try to stop yourself from letting your eyes sink lower to what’s beneath it. 

Declan watches your gaze fall, and his mind starts to race. Knowing any second now his attraction to you will be evident by the strain of his pants. He gently takes your chin in his fingertips and pulls your gaze upward so you’re now looking up at him through your lashes. 

Fuck- that sight alone is enough to make him finish in his pants like a teenage boy.

You looking up at him with innocent eyes, your lips parted just inches away from his hips- he thinks he may die right there on the spot. The effect you have on him is intoxicating, clouding his thoughts and almost making him see stars. What he says next comes from a place of carnal desire surprising even him, 

“Unbelievable that the men who’ve had the privilege of bein’ with you don’t even know how to fuck you properly. If I had you in my bed I would take my sweet time makin’ you cum over and over again until you’re beggin’ me to stop.”

As he speaks the hand that was resting underneath your chin gradually makes its way down, his fingertips now ghosting your jawline. 

“You deserve somebody who knows how to make you feel good sweetheart.”

There he goes with that nickname again. This time he says it and you can’t deny the warmth that pools between your thighs.  

Just as you open your mouth to respond, Declan’s phone starts to ring. Your eyes remain locked on one another as the incessant ringing continues. You were beginning to think Declan would ignore the call so he could continue dirty talking you into a puddle, but he stood up straight from his position at the desk and began walking to the other side of the room. Answering the phone, he gazed back at you running a hand through his curls, nothing but lust in his eyes.

You sat up in your chair, blinking slowly and trying to gather your scattered thoughts. You weren’t sure what had just happened, but you did know one thing. 

The next time you found yourself that close to Declan O’hara’s belt you would be undoing it. 

[merlucide]

Prayers in Silk

pairings 𓇼 Highschool!Satoru x Fem!Reader (enemies to lovers type)

synopsis 𓇼 it was new years in 2006, and as the year changes, so do the hearts of two people. At the shrine on the cold new years morning, you and Satoru make your wishes, unaware that the prayer he holds is far more significant than you realize.

warnings 𓇼 light cursing, cheesy bit at the end

word-count 𓇼 2.6k

“Ehhh?! You’re seriously wearing a kimono?! In this weather!?” Gojo bafflingly exclaimed, pointing at your satin yellow kimono. “Uhh? You aren’t dressed up?!” You glare at his comment, crossing your arms. He was wearing his grey sweatpants and a his navy blue jacket, quite boring compared to your glamorous look. It was New Year’s Day and you were going to Hatsumode, which is the first shrine visit of the new year. You wanted to look nice in the presence of the Kami’s, is there something so wrong with that?

To Gojo Satoru, apparently it was. “Too much effort, and like, it’s freezing,” He retorted stuffing his hands back into his jacket. It wasn’t actively snowing, but ice ice glazed the sidewalks, and frost dusted the bamboo, creating a picturesque—albeit chilly—path to the shrine. You had originally made plans with Shoko to go to the shrines, that somehow turned into an invitation for Gojo and Geto as well. And you had no problem with that, except Gojo. He was insufferable—loud, smug, and annoyingly good at getting under your skin, and unfortunately he liked getting under yours the best.

You let out a dry sigh and rub your hands together, “Where’s Geto?” You ask, looking around for the black-haired boy. those two are like one in the same, it’s odd to catch one without the other. “They needed him for an emergency mission or something,” He answered nonchalantly. You hummed in acknowledgement, a few minutes later a ‘ding!’ went off and you pulled out your phone. A notification from ‘Shoko-tan<3’. you opened the message.

‘Hey sorry can’t meet- they dragged me in on an emergency mission. Sorry again (*´Д｀*)’

You sighed deeply through your nose and closed the lid, sliding it back into your kimono’s obi securely. Gojo’s brow raised at you slightly, an amused glint in his eyes as if he was about to comment on how “traditional” you looked, but he bit back the remark with a smirk.

You clapped your hands against your red cheeks and turned towards the frozen stone steps. “Shoko can’t come, I’m going now,” you firmly state, not sparing a glance at the snow-haired boy as you make your ways into the bamboo enclosed path. Gojo blinks a few times and trails behind eyeing you. The path to the shrine was filled of red and black torii above your heads. “Sooo, whatcha gonna ask for eh?” He drawls, blowing air into his hands. You sigh, “I don’t know yet.” “You should pray for a boyfriend, you probably won’t get one otherwise,” He smirks, head tilted towards the sky, avoiding your gaze.

You abruptly turn “Excuse me?!” You scoff, “Well for your information I was asked out multiple times in the past few months!” You glare at him, which he just sticks his tongue out tauntingly. Your dating life has always been amusing to Gojo for some reason. Always poking fun at you for not having a boyfriend yet or how you’ll end up alone or whatever nonsense he can come up with to elicit a reaction from you.

You sharply exhale and continue down the path, it was a bit busy as expected, but not nearly as busy as you thought it would be. You also went much earlier to avoid the crowd. “Well then, what are you going to ask for, hm?” You spare a quick glance to him. “Meh, I don’t care, maybe a free ticket to America. Never been,” you stare at him baffled, ‘seriously?’ you think. “..You’re going to ask… for a plane ticket?” You echo. “Yeah, never been sounds cool, besides the chicks there are super hot,” he exclaimed on the last bit. “A plane ticket? Are you serious?” You exasperatedly ask. “What? It’s a wish, isn’t it?” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll send you a postcard.”

“You know this is the time to ask about like— health and happiness right?”

“Duuuh, I did grow up ‘tradish’ y’know,” he replies mockingly, adjusting his glasses up. You just shrug and turn your gaze to the shrines entrance. You step underneath the temizuya, the water basin had ice on the sides of the walls, the temple keepers had already cleared the ice out, no doubt it was freezing. You took your right hand and took the ladle, scooping it and pouring the water into your left hand. ‘Oh it was freezing!’ You shudder, “You’d think they’d have like, a heater or something, ugh,” you groan, switching the ladle to your left hand and pouring it on your right. This was the purification process, it’s how you show respect and properly participate in the ritual. And as much as you want to make the Kami’s proud and honor them, this sucked ass.

You poured a little bit of water into your left, holding it up to your lips and rinse your mouth. Now’s not the time to think of germs. You swish it around a few times, then spit it to the side of the basin. Gojo chuckles behind you about who knows what, “Oh hush, it’ll be your turn soon,” you tilt the ladle upright, watching the water trickle back down into basin. Then you hand it to Gojo, who takes it and steals your place. He repeats the process with a little more complaints than you, ‘THIS IS FUCKING COLD.’ You just snicker watching him, then you continue into the shrine.

“Seriously, that sucked,” Gojo moans, stuffing his wet cold hands back into his jacket. “Shush already, be caaaaalm,” you mock, both of you walking on the side of the path, nodding at those leaving. You make it to the main shrine, it was brown and red, like most temples. this one wasn’t very big, since you didn’t go to the cities shrine, figuring that would be much more busier. It was small and modest. The concrete torii stood in front of the shrine, moss growing on the top, little komainu stood next to it, and there was little circle candles on both sides of the shrine. 

You stood in front of the offering box and dropped in your five yen. Gojo repeated the action, flipping it off his thumb. You both faced the shrine, and bow deeply twice. Then clapped your hands twice, in sync, then you both tilted your head down in prayer.

You had thought deeply a few days prior of what you would ask for. Your life wasn’t perfect, but you were happy—that wasn’t what you wanted to ask for. You weren’t poor, nor were you rich, but that was fine too. What you wanted wasn’t something material. Maybe it was love, maybe it was clarity, or maybe it was just the strength to navigate the path ahead. Man, this was hard. As a jujutsu sorcerer, tomorrow is never promised. You accepted that, you knew one day you would probably die against a curse. That hit harder after your kouhai died. You don’t want anyone around you to have the same fate. You bowed your head slightly and pressed your hands tighter together. “Please let those I care about have a long and happy life… and maybe let me figure out my own along the way.”

You open you eyes and stand up, Gojo was already standing, waiting for you. You bow deeply once more and turn to face him. “So what did you end up asking for?” He asks, piercing blue eyes peeking behind his slipping glasses. You shrugged softly, “For those around me to live their lives to the fullest,” you reply, dusting off your kimono. Gojo snickers, “Gosh you really are so selfless,” He praises mockingly. You click your tongue, “Well then, what did you end up asking for, hm?” “Tickets,” “Are you serious?!” You exclaim. You seriously thought he was joking, how stupid is he. You shake your head. ‘unbelievable’. 

He just gives his cheeky boyish grin he always gives you, oh how you hated that smile. You both left the main shrine, making your way to the shop booth to buy omamori. You figured you’d get one for Shoko since she couldn’t make it. You looked at the colorful options, picking up a blue omamori with written kanji, ‘protection’. You looked for one for yourself, you already asked for protection and guidance, so what charm should you get?

“Hey, what are you getting?” You ask, turning to the lanky boy. “Gotta guarantee that I stay number one,” Gojo smirks, dangling a yellow omamori, kanji reading as ‘success’. “Meh, I’ll get Suguru a ‘protection from bad luck’, sounds good enough.” 

Your fingers ghosted over the pink one, lifting it up and brushing your finger pads over the lettering.

You paid for both of you, because Gojo apparently ‘forgot his wallet’, ironic since he’s fucking loaded. You put yours and Shoko’s omamori into your obi, the tassels sticking out ever so slightly. You both begin the journey out of the shrine grounds. The sun had begun to melt the frost, it hadn’t warmed up much but it still felt warmer. That was when you came face to face with the crowd, oh it’s a wonderful thing you went earlier. It was kind of ridiculous just how many people went to the shrine for Hatsumode. Gojo bends down to the shell of your ear, lowly speaking, “Good thing we got here when we did.” Groups of family and friends pooled in, squeezing against each other. You and Gojo were pushed to the very edge of the path due to the crowd, a girl passed you in a lavender and pink kimono. “See, I’m not the only person dressed up,” you boast, smirking at the boy who was wordlessly mocking your comment. 

You and Gojo squeezed your way through the narrowing path, the weight of the crowd pressing in from all sides. People were pushing and shoving, their chatter creating a constant buzz in the air, but it felt oddly isolating. You were still too aware of Gojo standing just a few inches behind you, his presence impossible to ignore. You could feel the heat of his body just behind you, his breath warm against the back of your neck. It was an oddly intimate feeling, and you refused to acknowledge it. 

But just as you turned to throw a glance back at him, to make sure he was still with you, someone bumped into your shoulder, pushing you backward into Gojo. You stumbled slightly, surprised by the force of the collision, but before you could step away, you realized something was different.

Gojo hadn’t moved.

In fact, his hands—his hands were now firmly holding your arms, steadying you.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, everything felt oddly still. Gojo’s hands held onto your forearms, and the usual barrier,—the feeling that he was untouchable, inaccessible—had melted away. His Infinity, his usual shield, was absent in that moment.

You didn’t know if he meant to lower it, or if it was a slip-up, but his fingers lingered a little longer than necessary before he quickly pulled back, his usual smirk sliding back into place as though nothing had happened. “You fallin’ for me too?” he said nonchalantly, his tone teasing, but there was something else in his eyes—something fleeting, almost imperceptible.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide the rush of warmth in your cheeks. “Watch where you’re going, dummy,” “YOU BUMPED INTO ME?!” You rolled your eyes and continued pushing through the mess of people. 

The moment passed, but it left an unspoken question hanging in the air between you two. ‘he’s so annoying’ you thought, that’s definitely what you thought.

The crowd was finally thinning out, and with a sigh of relief, you stepped through the last few groups of people, Gojo following at your side. The shrine’s path grounds were gradually clearing, and the chill in the air didn’t feel quite so biting anymore. You adjusted the fabric of your kimono, a subtle movement that caught Gojo’s eye as you did. A small piece of pink caught his attention from the edge of your obi—the tassel of your omamori peeking out.

Gojo didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual. That pink hue—he knew exactly what it meant. Love. The omamori meant for romance, for heart’s desires. It was so clearly sentimental that it almost made him roll his eyes. He quickly shifted his gaze away, though, as if he hadn’t seen it at all. You were probably the type to hope for something soft, something you could hold onto. He wasn’t the type to believe in things like that.

It wasn’t hard to imagine why you’d chosen it, though the thought of you wishing for something like that… It stirred something strange in him. You’d picked something soft, hopeful. Did you even realize what that said about you? You acted so tough, sharp edges and biting remarks, but this? This was something else entirely.

As you turned ahead, tucking the tassel back into the folds of your kimono, Gojo’s smirk returned, casual, but with an undercurrent of something else. His gaze softened for just a split second before he looked away again. His hands found their way into his jacket pockets, the silence stretching between you both.

“Guess we’re headed in different directions now,” Gojo said, his voice low, almost as if the words didn’t fully match the thoughts behind them. “Good luck with that wish of yours. Cya at school.”

You didn’t quite catch the weight behind his words, brushing them off as just another one of his teasing remarks. You nodded, walking ahead without a second glance. 

As your figure retreated, Gojo lingered behind for a moment longer, standing at the edge of the steps, watching you as you walked away. His hand brushed against the omamori in his pocket, the action so subtle it could’ve been missed by anyone else. But to Gojo, it was something more. It was a reminder of the prayer he made, the charm he chose.

Success, yes. But there was more to it than that. The charm was supposed to symbolize the strength to keep going, to push forward. But what Gojo had truly wished for, what he had really prayed for, was simpler than that. 

—He’d lied, of course—he hadn’t wished for plane tickets. That was just a convenient story to cover up the truth. He’d stood at the shrine, hands clasped loosely, head bowed just enough to make it look like he cared about decorum. But his mind had only been on one thing. On you.

He had wished for you. Not in the way your omamori was about love, no, not that. But he had prayed for the strength to keep you safe, to give you the life you deserved—the life where you didn’t have to fear the world or what it might take from you.

He had prayed for the kind of strength that would allow him to be by your side, to protect you, to ensure that no curse would ever hurt you. Maybe you didn’t realize it, but Gojo saw the way your smile lit up even in the darkest moments, the way you kept going despite everything. And he couldn’t stand the idea of you ever losing that light.

So, he held his omamori tight, fingers curling around the small charm, as a quiet breath slipped past his lips. He didn’t need to tell you what he’d really wished for. You wouldn’t understand. But in that moment, Gojo made a promise to himself: he would do whatever it took to make sure your life, your happiness, was something that could never be taken from you.

You may have prayed for the happiness of others, but Gojo? He prayed for yours—and for the chance to be the one who made it possible.

I have 4 things to say:

This rlly tested my Japanese culture knowledge 😭🙏

I got excited writing this bc there’s a chance I can go back to Japan in a year or two!!

this was mostly proofread but shit probably doesn’t make all sense 😭

oh my gosh editing the colors took forever HELPP

feedback + Reblogs appreciated pls! :)

made November 27th 2024 (I’m excited for Christmas season okay??)

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader

okay so! in these neglected!reader fics Dick is almost always the one who’s like trying to reach out the most. because of this, personally(!) i feel like he’s the kinda guy who just wants his family to be whole so he kinda takes up the position of like father+brother combined (eldest child syndrome lowkey). he kinda becomes the most present figure in the twins’ lives and i think it goes double for reader tbh.

like breakfast lunch dinner Dick is right there with her and yaps her ear off. i think that where Bruce is the kinda dad that wants you to finish what you start, Dick is the kinda brother that’s like “if you don’t wanna do it, then don’t” ykwim? wanna do ballet? he’s at every recital. hate it? well, it wasn’t for you anyways! any practice, game, show, concert, he’s there. and if you decide you absolutely hate whatever it is, he’s there for you too!

just like general supportive older brother, but turned up juuuust a smidge. i feel like in the yandere aspect, he’s not really the type to go try and murder someone. sure he might hurt someone, but he’d at least want to avoid murder. it’s more like he’s gonna try and keep her home/with him as much as possible. like where are you going? it’s family game night! when did we start family game nights? don’t worry about it! now come on, it’s monopoly.

jason, on the other, WOULD probably kill someone. buuuuut i think it’s more so if she get physically hurt by someone would he be pushed to murder. emotionally? he’ll probably just beat them up and threaten them. but if they put their hands on her? mmm yeah you’re dead. sorry!

i feel like jason, who’s literally died and come back to life consumed by rage, would see reader as the opposite of himself. as good, where he is bad. and i think that on one hand he wants to push her away, to not taint her with the darkness that consumes him. but on the other hand, he’s had so much taken from him, seen death at every corner, even met the man face-to-face. can’t he be selfish just this once?

so, in the early hours of the morning, before the sun comes up and his duty as Red Hood is done for the night, he seeks her out. he comes back to the manor, climbing through her bedroom window. she’s still asleep and he just stands there, listening, watching, reminding himself that she is alive and so is he. he doesn’t touch her, he can’t— can’t poison her good with his bad. so, he settles for observing. maybe one day he can work up the courage to speak with her, seek her comfort. but for now, he’s content with simply existing around her.

tim is also an observer in like a borderline stalker kinda way. makes everybody download life360 but he watches her location like a hawkkkk. also gifts her a phone that’s totally safe i swear! don’t mind that any texts from an ex or someone that you have bad blood disappear right after you get them. they probably just unsent them!

he’s like Dick in that he tries to convince her to stay home often. but his way of doing it is… different. you wanna go for a walk on this street? actually there’s footage of a robbery that took place near there recently, probably not safe. wanna go to a friend’s house? um, according to their school records, they got detention in 5th grade. that’s a bad influence, girl! don’t worry, we can play mario kart or something instead!

with duke i feel like, compared to the others, he’s the closest you’ll get to a regular brother. he’s the closest in age to the twins and he joined the batfam after damian in canon. he’s also very kind and soft(?) so it’s unlikely he’s gonna go full stalker and/or killer over his sister. don’t get me wrong, he could kick ass if needed. but when it comes to reader, he’s mostly just trying to bond with her. watching movies in his room, sneaking out to get ice cream together, even at the ‘Wayne Galas’ he’ll stick by her side.

duke is veryyy caring and passionate, plus i feel like he’s sympathetic as well. so when you need comforting, he’s probably the best to go to. cause he won’t be the kind to go find whoever made you upset and ‘talk to’ them. instead, he’s gonna comfort his sis! unless it was someone who physically hurt her, then he’ll probably pay them a visit. but he’s not gonna kill them, i just can’t see him doing that.

next up the batgirls 😛 just as a note this is all my interpretation of the characters. if you think it’s ooc, no you didn’t ❤️

also does anyone have a preference of using third person (she, her) or second (you, your)? i might switch to ‘you’ when i write the batgirls so its not confusing, but if anyone has a preference, let me know!

and thank you all so much for the love on the first part!!!! i’ve never uploaded fanfic before so this is so new to me 😅 but i appreciate it sm! love yall! ❤️

[arc-misadventures]

Morning. For the Friends Au it appears that Winter is trying to reach out to Jaune... and maybe he sees it and it's confusing him as to why.

Does her each out to Saphron and Terra, and seek their advice?

On a side note, great series. Looking to further posts as you have time.

Specialist J.A.

Winter: Specialist Jaune Arc. It has a nice ring to it. Don't you agree?

Jaune: It has a bit of ring to it... But, it's not as special as you're making it sound.

Winter: You should be proud, Jaune: You're the youngest person to ever be accepted as a, Specialist, and the first person of none, Atlasian descent to become one. So, take pride in your accomplishments, Jaune.

Jaune: Okay, being the first none, Atlasian to join the, Specialist doesn't sound like that much of an achievement. But, am I really the youngest member?

Winter: Oh yes, I was twenty when I joined, most others, Specialist were around twenty one as well when they joined. You are nineteen years old; You are the youngest member to ever join the, Specialist!

Jaune: Wait really...? Wait, twenty? Does that mean you're around twenty three then?

Winter: Careful, Arc... You should know better than to ask a lady her age...

Jaune: I-I-I'm sorry! I've just been curious how old are!

Winter: And, why do wish to know that?

Jaune: I was just curious!

Winter: Curious...?

Jaune: Yeah. You have this ageless beauty about you, Winter. So, I've always been curious.

Winter: Ageless beauty...?

Winter: Ahem! So... So what do you think of your new uniform?

Winter changed the topic as she looked away from, Jaune hiding a faint blush threatening to spread across her face. Meanwhile, Jaune looked at his reflection taking in his new, Specialist uniform.

It wasn't what, Jaune had expected, but he loved it nonetheless. It was similar to the uniforms to the rest of the, Specialist work as in style.

Jaune's uniform was more of a long sleeve sweater than a dress shirt. A zipper ran up the middle of it to the high collar. A sleave that ran over zipper to connect to a series of buckle buttons on the side. The front was a vibrant white with red stripes running along the side. The rest was the vibrant deep blue that was commonly found on, Atlasian uniforms.

His blue denim jeans had been replace with black combat cargo pants, giving him extra pockets to store necessary supplies. His boots had also been chaged for more modern combat boots, rather than the surplus boots, Ruby tends to wear. He found the boots quite nice, there was space in the boots he could fit something like a knife in it, perhaps her should do something like that.

Jaune: I didn't expect the blue would fit me so well. I know the red, and white suit me. But, I was never sure of the blue.

Winter: The blue is quite fetching on you; it matches your eyes quite well.

Jaune: Really? T-Thanks...

Winter: Your welcome. So, how does your armour feel?

Jaune: Mmmm... It feels a little tight; I think I need to ask one of the armourers to readjust it for me.

Winter: I see... Well, you can ask the armourers to resize it for you, that shouldn't be a problem for them. In fact, they could forge you new armour if you want.

Jaune: New armour? I know my armour is pretty good as it is, but would I be able to get some of that, Paladin Armour plating if I asked?

Winter: Hmmm...?

Winter: That’s a possibility… You'll have to ask about it.

Jaune: Okay, I'll ask them to remake, Crocea Mors then... It's probably best if I ask for, General Ironwood’s permission first. I suspected considering the metal this is used for your, Paladins its restricted from personal use.

Winter: While I'm not sure about that myself. But, I'm sure he'll agree to it, at least he may eventually let you do that. Once you prove your worth to, Atlas.

Jaune: That's fair. He's already upgraded my gear as is. It feels a little greedy of me to ask for another upgrade.

Winter: So, everything alright with your new uniform, Jaune?

Jaune: My armour is a little snug, but everything else is just fine. But, what's with this sash?

Jaune pulled out a deep rich crimson sash with a white snowflake pattern on the edge of it. Jaune looked at the beautiful needle work before staring at, Winter. She looked away as a small blush crossed her face.

Jaune: Winter?

Winter: I uhh... I got you a gift...

Jaune: A gift?

Winter: Yes, a gift to celebrate you're joining the, Specialist core. I would have gotten you something else, but I wasn't sure what... what you would like...

Jaune ran his thumb across the sash marveling on the smooth fabric, and the intricate detail woven into the snowflake.

His mind wondered at the red sash, he wore, Pyrrha's stash as a memento of her, the gold of his armour was also from her. He worse it keep her close to him. But, maybe...?

Winter: Do you... Do you like it, Jaune?

Jaune's mind was running until he saw a flash of red, and gold in his eyes, his eyes moved up to see the ghost of, Pyrrha looking at him. A smile spread across her face as she nodded her head, and gestured to the sash. Jaune's eyes darted to the crimson sash in his hands before looking back at, Pyrrha, and realizing she was gone.

Jaune smiled as his hands reached down, and grab the sash before wrapping it around his waist. Jaune looked down at the sash, then at it in his reflection. He nodded his head before turning to look at, Winter with a smile on his face.

Jaune: Thank you, Winter, it's beautiful.

Jaune hand pulled on the sash to move it so it ran parrel with his hip, while he was fiddling with it, Winter stepped forward, and readjusted it so it would look better.

Winter: Oh thank goodness... I was worried you wouldn't like it. I rarely get presents for my siblings, I've never gotten one for someone else so I was really... worried...

Winter's rambling was cut short as she finished adjusting, Jaune's sash before standing back up staring directly into, Jaune's cerulean blue eyes, their faces mere centimeters apart.

Jaune: I uhhh...

Winter: Y-Yes...?

Red slowly creeped across their faces before the game of chicken was called to the end as the both turned away,. Brushing away their blushes in the process.

Winter: S-So... did... Did you tell your teammates about you're appointment to the, Specialist's?

Jaune: Uhh... no.

Winter: Do you plan to?

Jaune: They'll find out eventually. Just like when I learned that they forgot to invite me to, Ruby's birthday party the other day.

Winter: What? They did, when?

Jaune: They texted me my invitation when I was about to talk to, General Ironwood about me becoming a, Specialist.

Winter: The message you said was from, 'no one important.'

Jaune: Yep, that one.

Winter: You don't see them as anyone important in your lives now do you?

Jaune: Just returning the favour...

Winter: I see. Well then... Specialist Arc!

Jaune: Sir!

Winter: Are you ready for your first mission as a, Specailst?

Jaune: Yes, Sir!

Winter: Good! You will follow me to the cafeteria where we, Specialist will be holding your initiation!

Jaune: Yes, Sir. May I ask what this incitation process will be, Sir?

Winter: Yes, to survive, Marrows cooking!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Eh?

Winter: The incitation is just a simple welcome party with food, drink, and cake that we, Specialist have. We're expected to each bring in our own food, hand crafted, or store bought. Marrow insists on bringing his family's chili recipe.

Winter: It taste terrible...

Jaune: Chili? Well... now I'm worried about the surviving bit... Should I bring something?

Winter: If you want to, but you're the guest of honour you don't have to.

Jaune: Why don't I cook something edible then. Something we can all enjoy.

Winter: You can cook?

Jaune: Seven sisters, and not a chef among the lot of them.

Winter: Well then, I'm looking forward to whatever it is you plan to make.

Jaune: When is the party?

Winter: This evening around six.

Jaune: That give me... five hours. I can whip up something nice by then. I best get to it. But, I'm going to change first. Don't want flour on my new uniform now.

Winter: I'll see you later then.

Jaune: till later then.

Winter soon made her way to the exit as, Jaune started unbuckling his armour. As the door opened, Winter stopped to say one last thing to, Jaune.

Winter: Oh, and Jaune...?

Jaune: Yes?

Winter: You... You don't need to call me, Sir, or Specialist Schnee... Just call me, Winter, okay?

Jaune: Okay... Winter...

Winter: Thank you~!

Winter smiled a sweet smile as she left, leaving, Jaune behind dumbfounded as he nervously swallowed.

Jaune: Shit...

Jaune: She does like me...

[muirmarie]

mccoy and spock get together towards the end of the five year mission, and spock is very, "obviously the doctor is aware that vulcans do not have casual relationships and almost always mate for life" and mccoy is, of course, "getting that damn vulcan to open up is like pulling teeth, how am i supposed to know how he feels about me" and this causes new and exciting problems when they're trying to sort out what they're DOING after the end of the five year mission

and mccoy is trying to subtly figure out if spock has any interest in being stationed together, and spock is, of course, the doctor is my mate, of course we will stay together, and mccoy gets offered this really exciting opportunity at a cutting edge research station that's still hands on enough with patients that it's perfect for him, and he kind of tosses it out there one evening to spock, hoping to get something from the bastard, and instead spock just skims through and stone face is like "in my opinion you should accept, it is precisely the opportunity you've been looking for" and mccoy sits there after spock leaves, like okay!!! i guess we're breaking up?? is this not even enough of a relationship for him to consider it a break up??? i may have to kill him. no jury would convict me. what! is! he! thinking!, and spock goes back to his quarters and immediately sends them a message like "i would like to apply for a position as well :)"

and mccoy still won't fucjing SAY what he MEANS because he doesn't want to be left vulnerable now that he's convinced himself that spock simply Doesn't Care Enough, and every time he at least tries to get like, some meaningful goodbye moments???? spock keeps blowing him off??? meanwhile spock is like "it is rewarding to know that the doctor wants to spend time with me, but i know he will miss our friends, and as his mate it is important for me to make sure he spends enough time with his friends before we all leave the ship", and then when mccoy says he's going to go visit joanna before he starts his new assignment, spock's like =/ wish he invited me along but I will respect his wishes and says he's going to go to vulcan between assignments, and then it's over! they're saying goodbye! and spock! just! leaves! and mccoy is just. absolutely furious and trying So Hard to Not Care but also!!! so!!!! furious!!!!

so anyway imagine his surprise when he arrives at the research facility for his new assignment three weeks later, and they're like "doctor mccoy!! so nice to meet you! your husband arrived two days ago, and he took it upon himself to set up your shared quarters and your office to your liking, but let us know if you need anything else, we're so thrilled to have you on board!"

and mccoy is just.

"i'm sorry. what did you just say?"

and spock comes walking out like everything is normal, and gives him the little vulcan finger kiss, and turns to the welcome party and says, "husband is a simplification of a vulcan term - we have not performed the human marriage rites, but he is my mate"

anyway yeah mccoy probably tries to strangle him.

they make a great first impression.

[waytoobsessed]

FOREVER. Thinking about that one quiz where my results were this

[the-lordess]

Yeah, if your getting suicidal or just really depressed than it might be pmdd.

I say this from experience but in general people aren’t just better at dealing with things than your or making their severe symptoms seem more trivial when they talk about periods. People genuinely have extremely different symptoms. If you seem to be having a harder time than the people around you it’s probably because your symptoms are worse.

If your period symptoms are super severe you really should see a doctor. From my experience I would recommend going to an Obgyn instead of just your gp.

Pre-menstrual depression is always depicted as like "He He! I had a box of icecream bars and cried while watching the Titanic!" But in reality, it's more like, "I'm standing the edge of an abyss. There is nothing good inside of me, I'm filled with rage and desperation."

It's crazy that being told how to deal with that is never a part of anyone's menstrual sex education.