#( She thinks more than anything that he looks COOL but that's not an option on the scale D: )

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 7

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication, miscarriage scare

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Caleb awoke to a very dry mouth and a pounding head.

It felt like a really nasty hangover and he had had plenty of those back in flight school. His memory was hazy for the moment so he wondered how much he had drank to feel like this.

He stretched his arm out and met the cool metal of some sort of rail.

What is this? He blearily opened his eyes and focused on his surroundings. A window with ugly green curtains, a wall full of cabinets and drawers, a small sink, a patterned curtain in front of the door, then the machines.

The pain in his arm made him hiss as he moved the wrong way. There was a needle and a tube in his arm, he followed it up to a bag full of liquid dripping down the tube.

Oh, it’s a hospital. Now it’s coming back to him, the shouting, the frantic energy of nurses and doctors trying to keep his heart beating.

He knew this hospital, it was Willow Medical Center in Skyhaven. How did he end up here?

The worst hangover he’d ever felt and it was no wonder. A few weeks of constant evol use on low food and not drinking as much water as he should have.

A recipe for disaster but he was here, he was alive.

It was dark from what he could see through the curtains drawn over the window. Other than the pounding in his head and dry mouth, he was otherwise uninjured.

His crew had actually gotten him safely out of the deepspace tunnel.

A warm feeling in his chest made him cough in embarrassment.

They had somehow gotten him out of the Fleet’s clutches, away from Ever’s influence to a safe place.

All that effort he had expended in getting them home must have left them feeling indebted to him.

He was very grateful for it, if he had been left to Ever’s clutches. They would’ve fixed his chip and taken advantage of his weakened state to upgrade him even more. Sinking their slimy fingers even more into whatever individuality he had left.

He’d worked so hard to fight the chip, it was at 50% integrity now and going down without a fight wasn’t an option.

His crew deserved something in return as thanks but he’d have to think on that more.

Where was his stuff? Only dressed in a hospital gown without a stitch of anything else, Caleb felt very exposed.

Oh there’s his stuff, a neat pile on the side table. His phone off to the side of his clothes.

Caleb really wanted to see her face, even if it was through a picture. Cell phones glitched weirdly in the deepspace tunnel, so he usually relied on his memory and the hidden photo in his pocket to keep her with him.

Then a nurse came bustling in, keeping the light low, he could see a clock behind the curtain she had just pulled aside.

2 am, well, not the worst time to be alive.

The nurse noticed he was up, looking a little shocked before recovering.

“Hello Colonel, how are you feeling?”

He grimaced

“My head has a band playing inside it and I really need some water.”

“Well, I can go and get water for you right now, I’ll send a note to the doctor to put in an order for some pain medication too. Okay?”

“Right.”

“I actually came in to grab some blood for labs, we need to make sure all of your levels are normal now.”

“Go ahead.”

She quickly took out her butterfly needle along with a few vials, sanitizing his arm and quickly drawing blood out.

Snapping her gloves off, she asked

“Anything else I can get you?”

“Can I have my phone from that table?”

“Oh sure, here you go!”

After handing Caleb his phone, she went back out into the hallway. Hopefully to return with water and something for this headache.

There was a universal charging cord attached to the hospital bed for his convenience. Plugging it in, it only took a minute to boot back up.

He saw the day, the fact that it was still a few days shy of his original return date made him a bit relieved.

That is, until he saw the slew of messages from her.

100’s of them, his phone kept going off and it felt like it was going buzz its way out of his grip.

What in the world?

Caleb was very concerned now, she almost never sent him this many. Not while he was gone and couldn’t respond.

Very worried at this point, he opened the earliest message.

Watching it left him in a daze, her bright smile seared into his mind as she had proudly proclaimed that you were pregnant.

Pregnant with his baby?!

He sat in astonishment for just a minute before it really hit him.

Caleb was going to be a father!

He eagerly opened each message after that.

All her cute little complaints about being sick, wanting food but not being able to eat it, her pants not fitting.

The weight loss did indeed worry him but he was reassured just seeing the way she struggled to wear pants now.

Hearing about stealing his clothes made him a bit feral to be honest but also stoked his male pride.

Then Caleb got to the point where she showed him the newest ultrasound, the little bean had little arms and legs now.

He stared at the image for a long while, the heartbeat of his child, his little baby, in the background.

All the joy came to a halt as the love of his life’s crying face came into view.

He had been pronounced MIA and presumed dead?

Oh no.

He noticed the background was now only showing her at his house in all the videos after that, her eyes hollow, her face limp, only the thought of their baby keeping her going.

He clenched his fist, the one that could punch through walls to get to you.

Caleb desperately wanted to call her now, but he didn’t want to do it over the phone. Not to mention that it was still the middle of the night.

He played the next few videos, his heart breaking as his love’s decline was put on display for a man that she thought was dead.

The last video though, it was only yesterday that it was sent.

Oh, oh now he wanted to rip the building apart.

Zayne, that sly bastard swooping in as soon as he smelt blood in the water.

Trying to take advantage of a grieving woman.

The confusion, the phone was laid down as he heard faintly, is that blood.

The word blood made his own run cold.

She was hurt? No, something worse as sobs came over the phone.

“Please don’t let me lose you, you’re all I have left of Caleb. Please baby, just stay with me!”

Desperate pleas came over the phone before the camera was back in her face, utterly wrecked as the video ended.

What the hell?

That’s how it ends?

He needed to leave now.

He started to rip the IV out of his arm and the nurse came back in, carrying a packet and a cup of water.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m leaving!”

“You haven’t been cleared yet!”

“I’m going and you can’t stop me.”

He stood up and towered over her. The nurse shrank a bit before standing firm.

“Why?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“I do if you’re going to leave AMA! You were in bad shape when you first came in. You’re still recovering.”

“She needs me and I’m going!”

“Wait she?”

He grimaces at the slip before spitting

“Yes, she needs me, there’s something wrong happening and I need to be there.”

“Maybe I can help.”

He stared at the small woman before shrugging.

“If you can tell me what hospital she went to, sure.”

“Are you referring to the woman listed as your emergency contact?”

“Yes.” He grits out impatiently.

She goes to the monitor in the corner of the room and looks at few pages before pulling something up.

“You’re in luck, she’s here in the labor and delivery ward.”

“Great, I’m leaving.”

She stops him with a hand to his chest.

“What is it now?” Snarling at the interruption.

“You can go, but in a wheelchair.”

So thus, Caleb is rolled all the way from intensive care all the way to L and D.

She had bandaged his arm up from where he’d ripped the IV out, he hadn’t even noticed it bleeding.

The nurse asks the night nurse working where she is and they’re directed to a room at the end of the hall.

He’s wheeled through the door and there she was.

Sleeping, looking so small and weary even in the dim light.

The nurse whispers

“I’ll have to go back but just hit the call light if you need anything, ok?”

He nods but doesn’t dare disturb the peace of the room with his voice.

But as the nurse leaves, he’s desperate to touch you.

So he pushes the chair forward by the wheels until he’s by her side. Caleb can now see something miraculous.

A baby bump, a true proof of their love.

Were they okay though? There was no one to ask, but he spies a chart at the end of the bed.

Grabbing it eagerly, he reads

‘Patient presented with mild bleeding at 18 weeks of pregnancy. Scans done and slight placental abruption was found. Mildly invasive procedure done to correct issue. Patient to be kept under observation for 24 hours.’

A very short summary of the situation but it was enough.

The baby, their sweet baby, and her were going to be okay.

Shoulders shaking as a few tears escaped his eyes as he laid a gentle hand on their child.

“Hello little one, I’m your daddy. I’m sorry I haven’t been here so far but don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

A slight bump against his hand and he was instantly in love.

Caleb wanted to scoop them both up and never let them go. His two loves in his arms forever.

A slight noise behind him made him turn his head from the beautiful sight.

Zayne.

His gut tightened.

“What are you doing here?” Caleb tried to keep his voice low but the protectiveness came through.

Zayne pushed his glasses up before answering

“They called me here to check on her heart and so that she’d have a member of her care team here. She couldn’t make it all the way down to Akso hospital so her OB told her to go to Skyhaven’s hospital for now.”

What a perfectly reasonable explanation but he’d heard what Zayne had been doing while he was away.

“You sure move fast Dr.Zayne.”

A raised eyebrow was the only response he got.

“She’s not yours.” Caleb made that clear with a growl.

“From what I hear, she wasn’t truly yours either. Scared of commitment, colonel?”

“That will soon be rectified so you can butt out.”

“Fortunately for you, she told me to butt out before you even came home. I have no plans to stay where I’m not wanted.”

“Good.” The baby bumped against Caleb’s hand again, making him smile.

“But if she needs me again, don’t think I won’t come running.”

With that ominous warning given, Zayne turned around and left the room.

Well, at least that’s done. Where does Zayne get off telling him that though?

She was more important than that sly bastard anyway and Caleb settled in to stay with her until she woke up.

He knew he had to take care of Ever somehow, he had been steadily wearing the chips integrity down so that they wouldn’t have hold over him anymore. It seemed that it was time to move the timeline up.

His two babies deserved him at his best and without these shackles.

He could wait for her eyes to open though. They had a lot to talk about after all.

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08 @xaviers-pookie-bear @tsunamethyst @thejujvtsupost @cherrybeomgyu

@gojosballsack69 @apple-lov3r @dinochocochip @violetpurplez @raiyuxa @nickibunny23 @sh3sa1dwhat @playboygeniusphilanthropist @flwerie @lynnlovesthestars @twilightsmissingfur @kasuumi

[impish-baby]

which of your familial yandere’s do you think would best handle a moody teenager? I’m definitely a fan of the fics where the reader is cute and obedient but I never see much for the older agere’s 😭

This ask is so cute- apologies if I made teen regressor! reader too stereotypical, I just found it funny

Valerian: wants to be a cool parent so bad but they're old-

They do not care for most modern technology but they're sitting there with their reading glasses trying to google all the current lingo and what's hot with the kids these days, will definitely come up to you asking why your generation is into certain things (boomer but times 10,000, they've been alive centuries)

It's a good thing for you if you're into certain alternative fashions because Valerian's wardrobe is stocked full of choices for more goth or lolita looks! They never mind sharing, they're more than happy to have you giving their pieces another life (maybe will be a little miffed if you decide to use something for a DIY without asking first, but they get over it fairly quickly and immediately turn to fawning over your work)

Tentatively let's you go out to concerts and different things, with a chaperone of course! They will not hear any moaning over you being old enough to go by yourself, you're still their baby and need someone to make sure you're safe! (Don't think you'll make any friends though, for some reason everyone avoids you like the plague..)

Rowen: does not stop talking about when he was in a band in high school, you could like a totally different genre of music and he still chats about it because he's (admittedly poorly) trying to connect with you

He's dealt with two other kids before, so attitude problems are no stranger to him! He never takes anything personally, but will threaten to take your door if you keep slamming it (never actually does, he just finds it to be the most annoying part) I think he'd get you lots of journals and self help books just because he knows how difficult and large emotions can be at that age

Unfortunately, you're still not allowed to go anywhere unless you're willing to make it a family trip! None of his kids are allowed in town without him, and sneaking out isn't really an option when he (not to mention your siblings) can out pace you easily. You'll get locked up in the den for the effort though :p

Sylvia: She... does not do well with teen regressors (._.) She tries her best of course, but is very used to babies/toddlers

Her first thought when you're in a mood is that you're throwing a tantrum and she'll start to treat it as such, which does the opposite of helping because it just feels like she's making fun of you-

She messages her coven apologizing for her own teen years..

Eventually, figures out that things go smoother if she takes on more of a big sister role instead of a motherly one. Is very much into gossiping and watching TV together (still doesn't let you watch anything too 'inappropriate', she frowns anytime there's even a mild curse)

Thoren and Rune: *sniffles* they grow up so fast.. they're both sad about their fledgling deciding they're oh so mature and broody

Rune has a habit of mimicking you, annoyingly enough. The deep sighs, eye rolls, he finds it funny how much it bothers you (and despite your efforts, he can tell you also find it humorous sometimes, no feeling escapes the bond)

They mandate cuddling, not that they didn't before, it's just worse now that you act like you're too good for some snuggles from your sires! It doesn't matter how much you fuss about it, you're being dragged into the nest one way or another

My personal ranking for this group best to worst is: Rowen, Thoren and Rune, Valerian, and lastly Sylvia

[fushitoru]

back to the kittty, cause she's kinda pretty!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) bf!sukuna x reader x toji, masseuse!nanami x reader, bully!suguru x reader, childhood best friend!choso x reader, best friend!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn tropes! (part 2) inspired by this awesome post by the cool and super talented @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), sub!satoru supermacy, porn no plot, vaginal sex, doggy, fem reader, "sloppy seconds," pre-established consent for all, reader accidently eats an aphrosidiac for choso's, bullying in suguru's, oral (m and frecieving), fingering, semi-public humiliation, lowk pathetic toji, art by 3aem, nOT EDITED

a/n choso's is my favorite yet again i love a pathetic man that rails me into next tuesday <3

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ MY HOT CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND ATE SOME WEIRD CHOCOLATE AND WANTS ME TO DICK HER DOWN!

Your best friend, Choso, was lounging on his couch, flipping through different movie options on Netflix while you were in the kitchen, bending and squinting through the different options. It’s a Friday night, and the both of you opted to stay in for movie night.

“Choso!” You complained, huffing while putting your hands on your hips to shout at him in the living room. “Why do you only have fuckin protein shakes and raw chicken in your fridge?”

All you get is a noncommittal shrug while he pauses on the preview for some shonen anime. “There should be some chocolate.”

Gasping in excitement, you go back to rummaging through his fridge like a raccoon and there you find it—-a pink chocolate box titled “tabs.” Smiling to yourself in excitement, you don’t hesitate before popping on of the bars in your mouth, appreciating the cherry flavor while grabbing another one. With your mouth full, you ask, “Do you want one? These are sooo good, where'd you buy them?”

“Nah, I’m good. Just come over here, you’ve been taking too long.” He sends you a glare and motions for you to sit next to him, to which you set the chocolate back in the fridge and pad your way over to him. “I think Sukuna bought these off the internet and that they were kinda bougie.”

You look at him, slightly alarmed. “Isn’t he going to kill you?”

He looks over at you—a little softly, you note—and ruffles your hair, to your dismay. “It’s okay, I’ll buy it again for him. Gonna blame your big back ass for it being gone.”

“Die.” You stick your tongue out, crossing your arms while settling into his side. 

Choso noted that you were being a bit more cuddly than usual, touching him more as soon as you got onto the couch. He decides to ignore it. “Ok, we’re going with Spider-man, k?”

You nodded into his side—he could tell you were flushed by the way you had continued to grow warmer and warmer, with beads of sweat dotting your temple. He paid it no mind, choosing instead to click on the movie and watch it play.

You were heating up. 

You tried to ignore it, because you hadn’t felt feverish before or done anything in particular to cause you to be sick (your coffee and ramen diet had been fixed after midterms season after Choso got on your ass about it). But about 25 minutes into the movie, you couldn’t bear it anymore, your vision blurring at the edges as you mumbled, “‘ts too hot. Gonna take off my shirt.”

Choso, who had been focused on the movie, tensed and looked at you, eyes slightly widened. “Wh—” Before he could even get a word out, you stood up—eyes slightly unfocused—arching your back while grabbing the bottom hem of your t-shirt and peeling it off, causing Choso to gulp as you uncovered the swell of your breasts in your red lace bra. You went back to borrowing yourself on his side, the softness of your boobs pressing against his arm. 

Choso closed his eyes because there was nooo way he was popping a boner for his best friend. No way. As both of your eyes went back to the movie, Choso focused on reciting the Japanese National Anthem to distract himself from the soft breaths you were letting out near his ears—and the way they tickled them—as well as the rise and press of your chest against his arms as you heaved. 

You, on the other hand, did not feel relieved. At all. There was a stickiness in between your thighs that made you think your period had started, but it had ended a week ago. You were probably just ovulating. Cuddling into Choso further, you put your legs on either side of his torso, burying your face into his neck and taking a deep sniff. At this point, you ignore the movie as you tried the soothe the heat that was going through you.

“What are you doing?” Choso was ram–rod straight and turned to peer down at you incredulously while reciting in his brain, until the tiny pebbles, grow into massive boulders. 

You continued your whiffing—-he just smelled sooo good—and sobbed, “I don’t know, but it hurts.” At this point, the feeling between your thighs was unbearable. You started to subtly grind on the side of his torso, much to Choso’s surprise. “‘M sick, Cho, but I’ve been eating healthy! I promise!” you whined. “Except for the chocolate right now. It hurts!”

At that moment, he knew he fucked up.

These were the tabs chocolates Sukuna was buying for his girlfriend. The ones viral on social media for serving as aphrodisiacs.

“Fuck,” he groaned while you continued to rub yourself onto him, now fully moaning and sighing as you tried to chase relief.  “Fuck! I fucked up.”

“Choso,” you whined loudly, prompting him to leave his state of anguish to look at you worriedly. “I feel so empty.”

Choso snapped.

Bent over, face buried in a pillow on the couch, Choso rams into your creamy, wet pussy, the squelching sounds echoing across the empty apartment. Punctuating his words with a thrust, “is-” plap! “what-” plap! “you-” plap! “wanted?”

“Yes!” you squeal, body bouncing as his rough snaps of his hips jostled you around, “You’re making me feel so good, Cho!”

“Do you know how much of a tease you’ve been?” he growled, balls hitting your ass as he pulled a hand back to spank you, red handprint imprinting itself on your cheeks. He groans at the sight of him leaving his mark on you. “Gonna take my cum, right?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI AND SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ I GET MY BEST FRIEND’S SLOPPY SECONDS! (a/n lol im not gonna lie this is just me ovulating and wanting to be creampied by two men)

Whenever Toji was at Sukuna’s place, it was like you, his girlfriend, pretended he wasn’t there. Because why were you always dressed in the tiniest of shorts and a tank top that could barely even hold your tits in and keep them covered? Sometimes, Toji thought it was Sukuna’s play—dangling you in front of him like a piece of meat, reminding him what he couldn’t have. 

Sukuna and Toji did have a bit of a…competitive friendship—one of good nature, of course. Toji, nonchalant as he is, didn’t really care whether he lost or not in the little skirmishes they had, whether it be seeing who can lift the most at the gym or walk somewhere faster. But he’s definitely seen Sukuna eye his groin in a mental competition to see if he was bigger or not.

Safe to say, Sukuna relished in the win. In a sense, he was obsessed with the submission. Not that Toji could care. He didn’t care when he flaunted his girlfriend around, groping you in front of him just to make him feel jealous…right?

Because why was his dick hard, him all hot and bothered as he listens to your moans and the plap! plap! plap! and squelches of Sukuna’s dick drilling in you? You’re both in the room, and Toji’s in the living room, confused as to why the fuck Sukuna asked him to come over when you clearly had a dick appointment with him. 

“Mmm, Sukuna you’re making me feel so good!” You whine, and Toji curses, closing his eyes and cursing whatever god was out there to make him subject to such torture. In his gray sweatpants, his bulge is undeniable as he hears Sukuna pleasure you. 

Then, he hears Sukuna call out to him, jumping as the other man yells, “Yo, Toji. I know you’re out there, man. Come in!” He then laughs meanly, speeding up to silence whatever protests you were making. Toji curses once again and moves to open the door just for his eyes to widen at what he’s seeing.

There is an obscene amount of cum oozing from your hole, it looked battered and swollen from the abuse Sukuna has dealt to it. There are tears in your eyes, a pretty pout on your face as Sukuna continues to use you as your fucktoy. And Toji realizes that Sukuna is looking at him while his hips languidly gyrate into you.

 “‘kuna–” you sob, embarrassed and cheeks heating up even further as you felt Toji’s eyes rove over your form, utterly decimated by Sukuna.

But you’re interrupted out of any potential protests you can make as Sukuna smacks your ass—Toji’s eyes not missing the jiggle—as he abruptly pulls out and motions Toji to come closer. “I’m gonna let him borrow you, okay baby? You see, Toji’s kind of pathetic here. Might as well give him sloppy seconds, right?”

With that, Toji is moaning as he slowly enters you, your pussy sweetly clamping on his dick as he can literally feel Sukuna’s cum every time he thrusts. The utterly debauched feeling of his still-hot come lubricating his every thrust makes his eyes roll back, lost in the feeling of your pussy as you whimper and squeal everytime he hits your g-spot.

“Yo,” and Toji’s attention is temporarily swayed to Sukuna, who’s watching the both of you with darkened eyes, manspread in a chair. “Come inside, okay? It’s my treat.”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ DIRTY MASSEUSE GIVES HOT BABE A DEEP TISSUE MASSAGE! (WITH A HAPPY ENDING)

Working in corporate was hell.

Sitting in a chair all day slaving away at spreadsheets and emails was definitely not something your younger self imagined you doing, but alas, you were only but a slave to capitalism. Even your hip flexors could feel it—they were tight, and your upper back hurt a lot.

So, here you were, in the waiting room of this bougie massage salon that you decided to treat yourself to. After all, you’ve been a good girl with your savings, making sure not to spend loads on stress-virtual-shopping so you can blow lots of bucks into this 2 hour service. The lobby is neat and glamorous, as you wait while rubbing your back. You’re currently engrossed in watching a compilation of Moo Deng videos until a deep cough interrupts you. “Miss?”

You turn to face the rich, baritone voice that’s said your name, and then suddenly reeling back. In front of you was probably one of the most handsomest men you’ve ever seen, with blond hair and sharp cut facial lines. He’s rubbing his palms together, which seem laden with oil as he looks at you plaintively. “Shall we take it to the massage room?”

“Y–yes. We can do that,” you nervously affirmed, gathering your purse and belongings to tightly follow behind him. 

When you arrive at the room, the stoic man motions for you to get changed. “Please put on a towel. We’re going to be doing a deep tissue massage, so the towel will serve as a protective measure.”

You blush at the thought of this man seeing your body covered in nothing but a towel, but follow his directions regardless, putting your belongings in a corner while you step out of the changing room and into the massage room once again. You try to preserve your modesty as best you can as you go to lie down on the table. The only things you hear from him are the clinks of bottles as he rummages through different oils, uncovering them. The smell hits you dead on, soothing your senses already with the essential oils. 

And then, his rough, big hands are on your back, pressing into your shoulder blades. You jump, like a scared deer, and he lets out a deep chuckle. “My bad. I’ll be doing your back side first.”

“Okay,” you whisper in response, already closing your eyes in bliss with the way he’s roving his thumbs over the planes of your back, pressing in deep as he works out the kinks in your back.

In one particular spot in your lower back and hips—the one that’s been hurting like a bitch because of your endless time sitting in a chair—he presses his thumbs with the exact right pressure, and you moan.

You can’t help it—the chronic back pain has always been there, but he makes it disappear with a languid movement of his fingers over your back. But he pauses slightly as soon as the whimper comes out of your mouth. “Miss, are you alright?” Flushing, you are quick to affirm. “Yes, sorry.” With a lower voice, you say, “That was, um, that was just really relieving.”

He laughs melodically and continues his ministrations, going even lower, but pausing right before putting his hands on your ass. “May I pull the towel up? Direct contact will be helpful in this region for a deep tissue massage.”

“Y-yeah,” you say softly. “You can do that, you’re the professional.” He’s just doing this for massage reasons, right? With your consent, he slowly inches up your towel to uncover your bare ass to him, you clenching your thighs with the fact that he can see everything.

He then puts his hands on the fat of your ass, moving his hands in a circular motion that spreads your ass every time he moves in an outward rotation. Kento’s trying really hard to stay professional, but seeing your glistening wetness makes him groan inwardly. “Miss,” you perk up slightly as he refers to you, “I’ll continue with the deep tissue massage as requested, okay? There’s a spot that I believe really needs my attention.”

Innocently, you nod, and Kento can’t help but feel so aroused that you’re so naively believing him, letting him touch you as if it’s an appropriate part of his job. His hands inch closer and closer, and soon enough he’s fingering you while languidly licking you up.

“Does this feel good, miss?” Kento is out of breath as he nudges his nose deeper into your pussy while you’re squealing at the feeling of his fingers slamming into your g-spot, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he goes in, sucking at your clit just perfectly.

“It’s rude not to answer someone,” your masseuse gives you a slap, and quickly soothes it over. 

“‘M sorry!” you squeal, bucking your hips as soon as you feel like you’re getting closer, “It feels soo good.” With that, he pauses his ministration to give you a gentle kiss on your pussy, and the plush of his lips is enough to set you squirting, riding his face as you drench him in your juices. Safe to say, you were feeling very de-stressed.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ BEST FRIEND CATCHES HIM MASTURBATING, JOINS IN ON THE FUN!

Satoru groans, squeezing his ball at the base to avoid cumming prematurely. What he was originally doing was trying to find some porn to empty his balls to, releasing stress and gaining dopamine from masturbating. But eventually—like he’s been doing a lot these days—his fingers direct him to your Instagram profile. You, his best friend.

 Satoru does this in secret, waiting until he’s alone in his and Suguru’s apartment to go into his room, close the door, and sin by thinking of you in a way friends don’t of each other. So, he’s trying not to bust too early while he zooms in on your tits in the cute bikini picture you posted just last week, the ones he took of you. The pixels of your magnificent breasts zoom in, sweat and water glistening off of them as your bra hugs and makes them sit just right. He groans, throwing his head back as he feels his cockhead pulse again, deciding to end his edging to cum. 

In his focus on stroking his dick—the squelching and whines echoing in his room—he doesn’t notice the sound of the door opening. Nor of the footsteps heading towards his door, because he moves his hand up and down, up and down, up and down until he’s so close to cumm—-

“Satoru! I got us some mochi!” You yell loudly, and Satoru screams in return, albeit for a different reason. As your head whips up to look at him, alarmed at his shout, you register that his cock and balls are out. And that, in his left hand, is a photo of you. 

You blink, and Satoru blinks back, except with a red, throbbing length in his hand. Then, slowly, you ask, “Why is my picture open, Satoru?”

Satoru swallows, already hearing funeral bells and utters out, “I—I—that was a mistake. I meant to be on Pornhub. Haha! I mean,” he continues on rambling, “why would I be looking at your picture? Obviously, my hand slipped while I was jerking off I mean—” he cuts himself off, because in his yapping, he’s failed to notice how you’ve stalked over to his bed, now straddling him while spitting on his cock.

“Fuck,” he curses, as his pupils dilate watching the thicky, frothy mix of your spit ooze down from your pursed lips onto his dick. “W–what are you—” You motion for him to stand up, orienting yourself so that your throat was hanging off the bed and you were on your back on his mattress. 

“Since you’re so desperate,” you give him a deadly sweet smile as he stands, dick above your face. You give his tip a little kiss, and he shivers. “You can fuck my throat.”

Satoru definitely takes you up on that offer.

He can’t even believe that he’s here, you deepthroating his dick so nice. “Thank you, thank you,” he whines, gyrating his hips sloppily into the tight, wet heat of your mouth as your lips suckle on him. “Needed this so, so much.” You’ve even uncovered your tits, them bouncing nicely as Satoru continuously lodges himself in your throat. “Please, please let me cum.”

You gently push against his hips, indicating you want him out of your mouth. Raspily, you wipe the trail of spit that’s left your mouth and laugh meanly and give him a deceptively sweet kiss on his balls. “You have to last at least 10 more minutes, okay?”

And Satoru can do nothing but obey you, driving himself to the hinge of climax but never over, whimpering as your mouth swallows him up. 

GETO SUGURU ⸺ BIG DICKED BULLY FUCKS CUTE ANIME GIRL INTO SUBMISSION!

Your safe haven is your library. There, the man who’s been torturing you for most of your college career, Suguru Geto, doesn’t know where you hide, nor does he frequent the place. You’re focused in on your assignments right now, having fallen behind due to Suguru’s antics of bothering you and disturbing your peace to humiliate you across campus. It’s late at night, and there’s not a lot of people to disturb you. You thought.

You’re wrenched out of your state of focus as someone harshly pulls your chair back, grabbing your chin to meet your eyes with his. Your bully, Suguru.

 You gasp in surprise as he roves his eyes over you and what you’re wearing. A short skirt, one he dare wouldn’t admit made you look cute, and a sweater. Silently, he sits down while you tremble, looking at him with shaky eyes that makes his cock swell in his pants.

He smirks. “You thought you could hide from me?” He then ticks his head towards your textbook. “Whatcha reading? Recite it to me.” 

Even though you were confused as to why he would have you do that, you hurried to do as he said. Meanwhile, his siren eyes roved over your form, choosing to settle in between your thighs.

“Schroedinger’s theory had proved classical physicists wro—-“ You’re interrupted by your own gasp, because Suguru’s laid a hand that’s gently caressing your inner thigh.

“Go on,” he purrs, getting closer and closer to the heat of your pussy.

You swallow and go on. “…had proved classical physicists wrong, showing that unexplained phenomena in spectroscopy and atoms demonstrated discrete—-“

Meanwhile, he’s inched his hand inside of your panties, softly rubbing at your clit in a manner unbecoming of the mean Suguru you know. Before you know it, your orgasm was creeping up on you, and your legs were trembling while Suguru buried his face in your neck, giving you soft kisses. 

“Cmon, you slut,” he whispered, the softness of his voice contrasting with the harshness of his words, “are you too stupid to read?”

You whimper as he delves a finger into your hole, collecting the ooze there and going back to your clit. “…atoms demonstrated discrete properties, referred to as quanta—-“ It’s with a nasty lick to the shell or your ear that you’re cumming, squealing loudly as you cream on his fingers, humiliated at the show you were forced to put on in the library.

Suguru pulls his fingers out and sucks on them languidly, looking you in the eye. “Now slut, you’re going to do that seated on my dick. Got it?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hiii pookies this was late sorry </3 but ANYWAYS im excited to write (and ride) cowboy geto and spiderman!gojo next! consider joining my kinktober taglist if you're interested <3 part 1 of this here btw

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :p

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits

[neverendingford]

.

[ghstzzn]

roommates for dummies!

pairings: lee heeseung x f!reader, jay park x f!reader, jake sim x f!reader, park sunghoon x f!reader

synopsis: desperate to get off of your bestfriends couch, you decide to reply to an ad online in search of a roommate. sure, you were skeptical about living with four men—but if anything, just desperate. it wasn't long before you started to completely regret this decision. however, some things just might be worth the stress and anger.

part one! wc: 5.7k

tags/warnings (for this part): SMUT. theres no fivesome happening (sorry..), threesome(s), fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, pullout method, oral ( m rec), deepthroating, cum eating/cum play/just cum stuff ig, voyeurism, degradation, name calling, some praise, manhandling, sex standing up idk just trust me, no aftercare, silly bit at the end, heeseung thinks he's sooooo funny! that's it for this part i believe.

🍊: havent posted smth fr in awhile kind of nervous. not much happens except sex but thats the point of this. by the way this is one of three/four parts ♡ enjoy and Uhhhhhh uhhhuhhh uhhhhhhhh

masterlist / part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

you savored every second you spent outside of your new home.

sure, you were beyond grateful to have a place to live. in fact, you were lucky considering how quickly you got in this situation. losing your old place due to unforeseen circumstances, a.k.a, your ex boyfriend kicking you out of his apartment after you caught him cheating on you despite you paying more than half of his rent.

though, you figured his new girlfriend could handle that portion now.

you crashed on your friends couch for a few days, actively searching for anyone looking for a new roommate. she assured you that you could stay as long as you needed, and there was no need to rush, but you were stubborn and had quite the false sense of being independent. 

which is why you clicked on the first ad you saw. a nice five bedroom house, the spare having its own bathroom and it was closer to campus unlike your last apartment. you couldn’t find much information on the poster, but you were desperate so you quickly dialed in the number on screen and waited while it rang.

you were taken aback when a male voice loudly boomed from the other side. you pulled the phone away from your ear and double checked the number— it was typed in correctly.

“hello?” he spoke again. “hellooooooo-”

“uh, sorry.” you cleared your throat. “i saw an ad online that you were looking for a new roo-”

the male cuts you off, “yeaahhh. man, was wondering when someone would respond.” you cringe at the way he interrupted you. “you lookin’ for someone else? no offense but you sound a little… y’know, like a girl.”

you let out a sigh, nodding even though he couldn’t see you, “i’m calling for myself… i wasn’t aware you were a man but– actually, i’m a little desperate.”

“yeah? desperate?” he chuckles. you raise an eyebrow at the response. “alright, can you meet me here then?”

caught off guard once more by the sudden eagerness of the stranger, you stuttered out a quick yes.

“cool. i’ll text you the address n’ shit.”

the phone hangs up, not sparring you a moment to respond. you blink as you stare at your phone, watching as you receive a few messages from the number you had just called. 

at least you had other options if this didn’t go as planned.

jake spun around in the barstool at the kitchen island, letting out a puff of air as he waited patiently.

“you waiting for something?” jake turns his head towards the voice. jay walks through the kitchen, chewing on some kind of protein bar.

the antsy male leans forward against the counter, “our new roomie. she said she’d be here ten minutes ago.”

“oh.” jay responds before stopping in his tracks as he actually lets jakes words enter his brain. “wait, what? new roommate? she?”

“yeah man,” jake lets out another huff. “she’s late.”

“no, run that back.” the other male draws circles into the air. “when the fuck did we get a new roommate? and why is it a woman?”

“we have a new roommate?” another voice rings through the kitchen.

jake turns around in his chair with a sigh, “yes guys! jeez, you all need to learn patience– she’ll be here soon.”

“she?” the voice, belonging to heeseung, questions. 

“that’s what i’m wondering!”

“ladies please, one at a time.” the male stands from his seat. “we have a new roommate, yes. she’s a woman, also yes.”

heeseung furrows his eyebrows, thinking for a moment before jay speaks up once more, “don’t we get a say in this? or at least some type of interview?”

“is she hot?” heeseung chimes in immediately after, receiving a scoff from jay.

“totally.” jake snickers. “her voice told me enough about her. sounded so nervous too, it was cute.”

“you don’t even know what she looks like?”

“you seriously only think with that dick of yours.” heeseung comments, shaking his head.

“says you!” jay frowns at the other roommate.

the doorbell rings twice, drawing the attention from all three males. heeseung straightens his posture, quickly checking his appearance in the reflection of the stainless steel refrigerator. jay finishes his protein bar in one bite and clears his throat.

jake rolls his eyes at the two, “careful now, don’t pop a boner in front of her.”

he practically skips over to the door, almost giggling out loud. he pulls the front door open just before you ring the doorbell once more. “was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.”

you look him up and down, quite shocked at the attractive face he had.

“uh, yeah, sorry about that.” you respond, clearing your throat. “traffic was heavy.”

“that’s okay, babe.” he opens the door wider, inviting you in, not even hiding the way his eyes immediately land on your ass as you walk in front of him.

your gaze immediately fell on a taller man with red hair, who you assumed was heeseung (you weren’t viewing this house without stalking the people who resided in it), now wearing a beanie and leaned over the counter with his chin resting on his hand. he shot you a crooked smile and waved his fingers at you. 

“hey roomie.”

jay looks at the man in disbelief; and so do you.

“i’m actually just here to tour and interview… right?” you turn to look at jake who shrugs.

“i mean we all agreed you could move in.”

“since whe-”

jake cuts jay off and steps closer to you, “you said you were desperate right? you don’t seem like a weirdo or a bitch so just give us a move-in date and you’re good.”

you squint your eyes at him, confused and questioning this entire thing. your friend's couch doesn’t seem like a bad idea, she even offered to renew her lease for a bigger space in a few months. 

“we promise we won't bother you or anything,” he continues, “you have your own bathroom and the door has a working lock. swear on our lives you’ll barely see us.”

before you could even respond, the front door opens and slams shut. a taller man walks past you and jake, clearly locked into whatever was on his phone. he continued to walk past the kitchen before stopping and spinning around.

“new roommate.” heeseung tells him. the other male lets out an “oh” and nods his head at you before walking away, probably to his room.

you let out a sigh and the three remaining boys turn their attention back to you.

“can i just see the room?” 

-

bothering you was the only thing these fools ever did. 

the front door shuts with a slam and you’re immediately greeted by heeseung sprawled out on the couch scrolling through his phone, completely ignoring the mess leftover from their small house party from last night. the one that kept you up half the night despite begging them to turn in early for the sake of your sanity.

you run your hands through your hair, frustrated that the house looks exactly the same as it did early this morning. well, save for the leftover food that heeseung managed to put in the fridge. kicking off your shoes, you make your way into the kitchen and grab the trash bag that was left on the counter and start tossing all the empty beer cans and disposable cups in.

heeseung looks up from his phone to find the source of the angry slams and movements, smirking when his eyes land on you.

“woah there,” he calls out to you, “wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?”

you look up from the trash bag, throwing a can in it with so much force it somehow bounces out, only fueling your anger, “save it.”

heeseung chuckles, standing up from the couch and stretching while letting out an obnoxious groan. he walks around the couch and leans against the back of it.

“are you gonna help or just stand there?” you motion towards the mess on the counters.

“no, yeah, i think i'll just stand here. i’m kind of loving this scene with you in the kitchen.” 

you look at him, disbelief written all over your face, “so you’re lazy and a misogynist, nice!”

“what? no,” heeseung looks almost offended at your accusation. “no, babe, i’m not a misogynist– i literally love pussy. i could prove that to you right now if you’d like.”

“not a misogynist, just horny. got it.” 

your roommate only shrugs and pulls out his phone once more. the carefree attitude of his was only adding to the frustration building in your chest. you cross your arms and glance around. “where are the others?”

heeseung hums, you only assume he’s using the full power of his brain as he recalls the whereabouts of the other three roommates, but really he’s only focusing on how your tits bounce ever so slightly with every angry movement if your arms.

“jake’s asleep, jay’s attending a group meditation and sunghoon… should be home in a few. why? miss them?”

you wanted nothing more than to take the metal scrub pad near the sink and scrub at the stupid smirk on his face. instead, you nod and take a deep breath.

the door opens just on cue however. sunghoon walks in, kicking his shoes off in two different directions with a bag of full of bottles clinking against each other. the noise of the liquor bottles only added to your rage.

“really? more alcohol?” you comment and point towards the counter where a few unopened and opened bottles sat. “you have all of this– plus the entire mini fridge full of drinks.”

sunghoon raises a brow at you, “okay. but that’s liquor for functions, not me.”

you wave your hands in front of you. it made zero sense to you.

the taller male looks at sunghoon, “what’s wrong with her?”

“man, i don't know.” heeseung replies with a sigh, “she came in here all pissy and started slamming shit.”

they were having a conversation about you– in front of you.

“what? why?”

he shrugs again, “like i said, don't know. maybe she should follow jay to one of his meditation sessions.”

you roll your eyes, “you’re not funny, heeseung.” he lets out a snicker. you grab a rag from the counter and chuck it in his direction.

sunghoon whistles at the action and sets the bags he was holding onto the counter.

“i’m seriously regretting this whole living arrangement.”

heeseung pouts and crosses his arms over his chest dramatically, “hey! we aren’t that bad to live with.” he protests, though his tone is playful. “at least give us a chance to redeem ourselves. look, we’ll help clean up the rest of the mess.”

you sigh and nod, it’s the least they could do but you won't protest. turning around, you glance at sunghoon, who was now storing away the liquor he had bought and the leftover bottles. 

“...except, it looks like you’ve finished.” heeseung grins. “thanks, darling.”

you shoulders fall in defeat, “i fucking hate you.”

he chuckles loudly as you study the room. he was right. you had completely cleaned the kitchen, minus the few liquor bottles that sunghoon had just stored away.

“no, no. she missed one thing.” sunghoon calls out causing the two of you to whip your heads in his direction. he crouches down and picks up the can that bounced out of the trash bag earlier and tosses it in the trash. “hah, how funny is that? it was right next to the bag too.”

heeseungs no longer holding back his laughter. you question whether or not the dude is blasted out of his mind right now because you definitely didn’t find a single thing about this funny.

“hey, chill.” sunghoon butts in, “i’ll wipe down the counters and shit.”

you turn to face him, “did you by chance buy any cleaning supplies while out?”

“no, why?”

heeseung laughs louder, wiping at his eyes. 

“i really don’t understand what could possibly be so funny about any of this.”

his laughter eventually dies down, finally shutting up. “sorry, sorry.” he clears his throat. “but seriously, thanks for cleaning up. you’re a real one for that.”

you hum and let out a sarcastic sure, heeseung nods and walks past you, patting your shoulder causing you to scrunch your face in disgust. you turn to follow his figure with your eyes, but you catch sunghoon staring at you.

“what?”

“hm, nothing. just wondering when you’re gonna snap out of your little tantrum.” he responds calmly, leaning against the counter. “it’s getting old, to be honest with you.”

you bite your lip, holding back a response to him. you watch as heeseung wipes his hand on a paper towel, throwing it on the counter right after.

sunghoon sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “seriously, what’s the big deal? nobody here is forcing you to clean up after us.”

“but it’s all the time,” you groan. “the constant parties and get-togethers you host while i’m trying to sleep after a long day or studying– then having to come out and clean it all up because you three are nowhere to be seen? i can only deal with so much.”

his expression hardens and heeseung leans against the counter with a bored expression, “well, maybe if you’d let loose for once and joined in on the fun every once in a while, instead of holing yourself up in your room like a hermit, you wouldn’t be so uptight.”

“fuck off.”

sunghoon scoffs, “my point exactly. you’re so uptight and bitchy— it’s not fun. you aren’t better than us for that.”

“sorry i don’t want to be involved in your weird ass parties.” you respond with a shrug.

“such a princess,” heeseung giggles, “always complaining, never participating. seriously, they aren’t as bad as you make them seem.” 

sunghoon nods in agreement, “yeah, i’m telling you that you’d be able to tolerate us a lot more if you cared to let go of that boring, angry personality of yours and showed up.”

you throw your hands up, more than done with the conversation. “whatever, i don’t care anymore. just… just clean up a little more. it’s all i ask.”

heeseung pouts exaggeratedly, eyeing the way you surrender in defeat “oh come on, princess. don’t be like that.” he tries to sound apologetic, “we’re only messing around with you.”

“yeah! we don’t care if you prude around alone in your room!” sunghoon adds, “but just for you, we’ll clean up after ourselves, your highness.”

“you both are childish.” you spit out, biting the inside of your cheeks as the frustration threatens to spill out in the form of tears.

heeseung grins, not at all put off by your insult, “childish? rich coming from the girl who’s about to cry from a little teasing.” he taunts, voice laced with amusement.

you scoff in response, turning around so you could leave the situation and escape to your room, but sunghoon has other plans as he steps right in front of you. his arms automatically wrap around your waist to steady you, his face mere inches away from you as you look up at him, shooting him a glare.

“where do you think you’re going, princess?” he flashes you a knowing smile, voice low and teasing.

you attempt to lean away from his face that only seems to inch closer, jumping slightly when the back of your head comes into contact with heeseungs chin. “to my room– away from the two of you.”

“oh, don’t let us stop you then.” heeseung grins from behind, his cheek nuzzling against your hair. 

“let me go then?”

“but we weren’t done,” sunghoon attempts to feign a pout, but his smirk grows stronger as he studies the way your body reacts to him, “we still have to thank you for cleaning the mess up.”

heeseung hums against your ear, “seriously. how sweet of you, doll.”

“you can thank me by leaving me alone.” you mumble, though you do nothing to back away from the situation. you couldn’t deny the way your heartbeat sped up from being sandwiched between the two, or the way your core pulsed from the way sunghoon traced small patterns into your side.

sunghoon chuckles, all knowing of what was running through your mind, “aw, but where’s the fun in that?” he asks, hands sliding down to your hips, giving them a teasing squeeze. “we love spending time with our favorite roomie.”

your hands fall on top of his, unsure on whether or not you should remove them from your hips. his eyes follow the movements of your hands, letting out a soft chuckle as he watches the way your mind struggles against the need you feel for the two.

“mm, not so fast baby.” heeseung purrs, his hot breath hitting the shell of your ear. “what did we say? gotta give you a proper thank you.”

“how?”

sunghoon smiles, looking at heeseung before turning his attention back to you. “they say actions speak louder than words,” he responds. “we’ll make sure to make it very clear just how grateful we are for you.”

you gulp as he responds, your thighs clenching together at the tone of his voice. the gaze in his eyes told you exactly what the two men wanted from you, the way they looked at you as if you were prey.

heeseung grows impatient from behind, his face nuzzling against your skin as he peppers kisses down your neck until he reaches your shoulder, biting the skin causing you to let out a gasp. he chuckles darkly before tucking his finger under the thin strap of your tank top and letting it fall off your shoulder.

he lifts his head and switches to your other shoulder, resting his chin on your shoulder as he travels his hand down your torso, reaching the waistband of your shorts.

your automatic response is to grab his hands but sunghoon shakes his head and grabs them, linking his fingers between yours and bringing them up to his shoulders. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting your cheek.

sunghoon begins planting soft but deliberate kisses against your skin, following the trail that heeseung had left earlier, kissing and sucking the bite mark left by the other male.

the man behind you takes the chance, shoving his hand down your shorts that he had undone moments before while you were distracted. he grins when he doesn’t feel any other fabric beneath your shorts.

“isn’t that just convenient?” he grins, giddy at the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear. 

“w-wait,” you stutter out, suddenly aware of where you were standing.

sunghoon grips one of your hands, guiding it over his chest, “shh, it’s fine.”

heeseungs hand dips lower, his middle finger sliding through your slit. he lets out a groan before removing his hand from your shorts but quickly yanks them down, letting them fall to your ankles.

you let out a small yelp due to the quickness of the male. he glides his finger from your dripping hold, gathering your slick and moving to your clit, tapping it a few times before pressing down. 

“can’t believe you’re already this wet just from a little bit of touching,” he groans against your shoulder. “really thought we’d have to ease you into this– but you wanted this bad, huh?”

sunghoon smirks against your neck, lifting his head, wanting to see your face as heeseung pleasures you with his fingers, “c’mon, don’t tease her. poor girl probably hasn’t been touched properly in awhile.”

“is that true?” the male behind you questions softly but teasing, “were you just waiting for one of us to fuck you stupid?”

their teasing voices combined with heeseungs fingers massaging at your clit cause you to let out a soft whine. one buck of your hips has sunghoon reaching down and holding your hips in place for heeseung to continue his attack on your sensitive bud.

“you don’t even have to respond,” sunghoon mutters, “look at the way you’re whining and squirming.”

heeseung slips a finger in your core, pumping a few times before slipping another one inside of you. the feeling of your warm cunt walls wrapped around his fingers is enough to send him reeling, he grinds his hips into your ass with a grunt. 

the male in front of you has to tighten his grip on your hips, rolling his eyes. you let out a loud moan when heeseung curls his fingers inside of you, he brings his other hand to cover your mouth.

“don’t wanna wake jakey up, do you?” his voice is low, hot breath hitting the side of your face. you shake your head desperately as he continues to finger fuck you, scissoring and curling his fingers, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you with ease.

“look at her, hee.” sunghoon mumbles, admiring the way you look between the two men, “so pretty like this, isn’t she? if i knew this was a good way to get her to shut up, i'd have done it earlier.”

heeseung chuckles darkly, lips trailing against your neck once more, “she’s so fuckin’ greedy too. literally dripping down my hand… aren’t you, baby?”

you let out a muffled whine and nod your head shamelessly. 

“yeah? you’re doing so good like this,” he continues, “but i think you need more.”

heeseung pulls his fingers out of you and removes his hand from your mouth. you’re about to question him but he’s pushing you forward while pulling your hips back against him. sunghoon holds you steady as the male behind you undoes his pants.

“take your time, hee.” sunghoon comments, slowly losing his patience. “jay’s gonna be home soon.”

“‘m fucking trying,” he mutters in response, successfully freeing his hardened cock with his one hand. “hold her still and shut up.”

sunghoon rolls his head back in irritation and tightens his grip on you.

“you’ll need to cover her mouth too. i’m not sharing her between you and jake today.”

your taller roommate doesn’t respond again but brings his hand up to your mouth with a smirk. you whimper softly through his hand when you feel heeseung slide his tip through your wetness, gathering it on his cock. he rocks his hips a few times, teasing your clit before catching onto your hole and slowly pushing in.

“fuuuck,” he hisses. “she’s so damn tight, sunghoon.”

“just fuck her,” sunghoon responds impatiently, he tilts his head down at you. “that’s what you want right, babygirl?”

you let out a muffled grunt when heeseung bottoms out inside of you. he waits only a few moments before pulling out almost completely, then pushing back inside of you with more force and speed. 

the two men have you perfectly held in place, controlling the movements of your body as heeseung speeds up his thrusts. each rock of his hips draws out a moan from you, covered by sunghoons hand.

heeseung groans softly, his pace never slowing as he takes all the pleasure he can get from your body. “she’s seriously so tight.” he growls, his grip tightening on your body. “feel that? feel how well you wrap around my cock, baby?”

your eyes squeeze shut from the pleasure. your cunt continues to squeeze around his cock as he pounds into you. sunghoon watches the way his roommates cock disappears inside of you, the way your juices glisten everytime he pulls out before slamming back in.

his own cock twitches in his pants, he’s so painfully hard and getting impatient. sunghoon wishes it were just him here instead of heeseung, wishing it were him being the one to fuck you– and only him. you let out a high pitch whine as heeseung speeds up his pace, his tip hitting your g-spot deliciously. he brings a hand down to rub at you clit, causing you to jump from the overwhelming pleasure. 

“mm, she jus’ gets tighter.” he slurs, drunk on the way your pussy sucks him in. “you like that, don’t you? shit.. y’gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

your eyes are shut, in a complete daze from the way his cock is fucking you. sunghoon smirks at the sight, in love with the way you’re fully enjoying every second of this.

“minutes ago you were about to rip our heads off,” he coos, “now you’re over here drooling on my hand over some cock. just a little slut, aren't you? maybe i was wrong about you being a prude.”

heeseung’s barely keeping it together behind you as his hips meet your ass with haste, hissing and groaning with each thrust. he’s uncoordinated and sloppy yet still hitting that spot deep inside of you, throwing your body towards sunghoon, who keeps a bruising grip on you as the other male pounds into you.

your past self would be embarrassed to see you now, yet, you couldn’t feel an ounce of shame at the moment. it feels as if heeseung’s fucking all the frustration out of you.

it’s dirty. the way the two men have you sandwiched in the kitchen— straight out of a cheap porno. every time you start to think about jay or jake strolling in and catching the three of you, it only makes your core throb more with need.

“what are you thinking about?” sunghoon whispers, leaning closer, offering his chest for your head to lean against. “hmm, baby? you thinking about something else while fucking yourself on heeseungs cock?”

the male mentioned lets out a loud groan, gripping your hips and pulling you back harder against him. you could tell he was close, as were you. your hands tug on the fabric of sunghoons shirt, attempting to pull yourself up. but with his hand on your mouth, you can’t let them know so you rely on your body language. 

“gonna cum for me?” heeseung grumbles, leaning closer to you. his thrusts are deep and rough as he chases his high. “c’mon, cum on this cock…” 

you feel your cunt flutter around him as you hit your peak, a muffled squeal leaving your mouth as you finally cum. heeseung pants, giving you a few more thrusts before pulling out completely and fisting his cock until he’s cumming all over your lower back and ass.

sunghoon removes his hand from your mouth causing you to take a deep breath, he wipes his hand on his pant leg which goes unnoticed by you. 

“jesus-” heeseung breathes out from behind you, hand gripping the counter. “fuck, that was good. why didn’t you tell me you felt this good before?”

you don’t reply to him– you just continue to lean against sunghoon as you regain all composure. the tall male keeps a hand on your waist as the other slowly unbuckles his belt. your other roommate redresses himself after using a paper towel to wipe himself down, giving your ass a small smack in the process.

“yo,” sunghoon calls out to him, earning a raised eyebrow in response. he cocks his head behind him. “keep jake in his room, yeah?”

“now?”

the man you were still using as support scoffs, “yes, dude. now..”

heeseungs stands there for a moment, looking at you as you finally turn around, slowly reaching to pull your shorts up. he clicks his tongue and walks off with a groan.

as soon as his footsteps fade away, sunghoon yanks your arm away from the article of clothing and pushes you against the kitchen counter. you gasp when the cold countertop makes contact with your skin. “s-sunghoon!”

he smacks his lips and pushes your sticky lower back down to keep you still, “you seriously thought i was about to let you walk away? after you made me watch him fuck you like that?”

he lifts his now cum covered hand off your back, studying it for a few moments. “not gonna let me have any fun? especially after you used me like a fucking wall?” he grips your face with his other hand, leaning over you as he shoves his fingers in your mouth.

the thick salty flavor hits your tongue immediately and you close your lips around his soaked fingers, the rest of the cum on his hand completely coating your chin and jaw. 

“you like that?” sunghoon chuckles darkly. “you know how pathetic you look right now?”

you groan around his fingers as he rocks his hips against you, grinding his bare cock in your slick. he doesn’t waste a second before shoving himself inside of you causing you to bite down on his fingers from the sudden full feeling once again.

sunghoon hisses in response, pulling out before roughly thrusting into you. the corner of the counter is digging into your hip but you couldn’t be bothered to resituate yourself. he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and snakes his hand in between your thighs, pressing against your clit as he starts to pound into you. his other hand is on the back of your neck, a tight grip as he uses it to stabilize himself.

your own cum is dripping down your thighs as sunghoon’s cock forces it out with each thrust. it’s truly a struggle to stay quiet, your moans are coming out in rough whimpers and deep breaths. you lay your upper body flat against the counter and hide your face in your arms to help muffle your sounds of pleasure.

though it wouldn’t even matter if anyone could hear your cries because the sound of wet skin slapping against each other could surely be heard from the other side of the neighborhood. 

“fuck, you’re taking me so good right now. heeseung loosened you up for me, didn’t he?”  sunghoons voice is low and rough, almost stuttering over his words. “so fuckin’ greedy for cock– look at you.”

if it weren’t for your arms, your face would be squashed into the hard countertops from the sheer force of his hand around the back of your neck pushing it down. sunghoon doesn’t notice, nor does he care about his roughness because truly all he cares about is cumming. 

you can hear the door slam and you try to lift your hand, in sheer panic, but sunghoon shoves it back down with a grumble. 

“t’sup?” sunghoon lets out a sigh and throws his head back.

“nothing,” the voice, belonging to jay, responds. he throws a few envelopes on the counter and sighs. “another noise complaint– like dude, who fucking cares? they act like the cops are gonna bust us or something.”

never in a million years did you think you would be getting backshots while two people had a completely casual conversation as you were between them.

sunghoon groans, his pace barely slowing, “my parents own half this fuckin’ neighborhood.”

“that’s what i’m saying! these complaints are useless.” jay responds, an annoyed tone lacing his voice. “is that– y’know what, i’m tired. clean the counters when you’re done.”

and with that, jay is walking away. you only hope he’s heading to his bedroom. however, your entire body is hot with embarrassment yet you feel yourself about to cum any second.

“fuck– sunghoon! s-slow down.” you barely cry out as you cream around his cock. he rolls his eyes, not that you could see, before pulling out completely. 

you take a deep breath before he grabs you and spins you around, pushing you to your knees. your hands fly to his thighs, trying to catch yourself before bruising your knees. 

sunghoon spares you a wicked smirk before tapping the tip of his cock against your lips, in which you invite him in with zero hesitance. he doesn’t start slow, immediately pushing his cock to your throat, enough to bring tears to your eyes before pulling out to let you breathe.

and he does it again. and again. until you're coughing around his cock.

“yeah, just like that, baby.” the male sighs, hand gripping your hair. he lets you take another deep breath before shoving his cock deeper down your throat. “look at you gagging– fuck, this is so good.”

he repeats his actions until his cock is twitching with the need to cum. sunghoon gives a few thrusts before pulling back slightly and cumming all over your tongue and throat. his release was almost too much for you, but he didn’t care that it was dripping out of your mouth, or that you were borderline choking on it.

“swallow.”

you try to shake your head no but he only tugs on your hair, “you can.”

shakily, you cover your mouth as you gulp, swallowing his sticky release. sunghoon chuckles, completely satisfied. 

“you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” he cooes. his thumb, sticky with heeseungs earlier release, wipes at your tears. you can only stare at him as he continues to degrade you. “oh, don’t be ashamed, princess, it’s perfect for us.”

you wipe at the corner of your mouth before grabbing your shorts that are laid close by. grabbing the counter edge above, you pull yourself up, not at all wanting to ask for sunghoons help. he leans against the counter, fixing his belt, completely uninterested in you.

slipping the shorts on felt useless in front of him. what was there to hide at this point?

“i’m gonna shower.”

“yeah, sure. i’ll try not to use any hot water for the next hour.”

you give him a nod. well, this is fucking weird. but you honestly would rather take this than it be awkward. genuinely, you would rather not have him force himself to give you soft and sweet aftercare. 

“jays cooking tonight!” sunghoon calls out to you as you head back to your room. you roll your eyes and push your door open.

you: 

    hypothetically, i have this friend who wanted to move out of her current place because she HATES her roommates but she just fucked 2 of them…. at the same time and suddenly doesnt want to leave

from: chaewon 💓

       what the FUCK did u just say to me

you:

     so basically im fucked

🍊: @filmnings @deobitifull @leov3rse @hooniehon @roslayy @strxwbloody @cutiepatootiejungwon @jakeswifez @yuriknows @d-dilemma (bold couldn’t be tagged / taglist now closed!)

[illyrianbitch]

Accidental

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Azriel accidentally likes an old photo while stalking your profile. A spiral into mortification follows.

Warnings: modern! prythian aka everything is the same except social media exists. az sucks at social media and is a loverboy and mortified stalker. sassy shadows and matchmaking. basically fluff and crushes

Word Count: 1.8k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel barely used Instagram. 

His account was a placeholder at best—a profile photo of him, Rhys, and Cassian from some formal court trip, no posts, and a follower count so small it seemed like he was actively trying to be cool. Hundreds of follow requests sat ignored, mostly Mor’s friends or Cassian’s buddies.  

Azriel had only downloaded the app for Rhysand. It had been part of the public rebranding of their ruling, a way for the Night Court citizens to feel closer to the individuals they relied on for the proper functioning of their court. Rhys had insisted that having a social media presence—however minimal, as he’d said with that plastered grin of his—was good for their image. Cassian and Mor had jumped in with no hesitation. Azriel, on the other hand, had never felt a more intense, animalistic rage than when Cassian managed to flood his phone with ridiculous memes and videos that only elderly fae could find funny.

Well, elderly fae and Cassian, it seemed.

So Azriel had gone along with it, sitting next to Mor as she set up his lackluster account. He hadn’t bothered to edit it since. In truth, he only opened the app when he was completely, mind-numbingly bored. Or, like tonight, when the house was too quiet, and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

The search bar remembered your name. One tap, and there it was—your profile, a perfectly curated grid of moments that always seemed so effortlessly you. 

Azriel made sure he was on his second account. While he never intended to use the app for anything other than the occasional check-in, he liked knowing he had the option to interact with his family if he ever chose to. To ensure that safety net, for whenever it might be needed, Azriel had created a second, more private account. No identifiable name, no picture. His only followers were his family, their close friends, and you.

His shadows shifted lazily around him, one curling near his ear, ready to whisper. Others lingered by his shoulders. He could feel their silent critique, like they were collectively arching a brow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, brushing one of them away with a flick of his fingers. It didn’t retreat far, still coiled in the corner of his vision like it was waiting for him to come to his senses.

He ignored them and clicked on your profile.

The first photo caught his attention immediately. You, smiling at the camera, holding a drink with two cherries hanging off the glass. He wondered what it was, what you preferred your liquor to be mixed with. Mor was in the background, her arm slung around your shoulder, laughing at something out of frame. He bit back a snicker at Mor’s comments under the photo, at the way she jokingly groveled and thirsted for you like a stereotypical, horny, young fae. 

Darker thoughts crept in. The idea that there might be others—men, strangers—leaving similar comments, but in all seriousness, made his stomach churn. A wave of unease rolled over him. He scowled and willed himself to scroll past, deliberately avoiding the remaining 20 comments.

He scrolled. Another photo—this one from a trip to the Summer Court, your legs stretched out on the sand, a book propped against your knees. The sunlight hit your skin just right, your sunglasses reflecting the waves.  

And then he kept scrolling. He couldn’t stop. Posts from weeks ago turned into months, then years. He stopped on one from a themed birthday party, your costume half-hidden by a cluster of friends. The blurry quality didn’t matter—his gaze zeroed in on you, on the way your smile lit up the frame.  He leaned closer to the screen to get a better look.

But he wasn’t the only one curious for a detailed glance, it seemed. His shadows around him moved suddenly, as erratic and fast as they could be, and the motion startled him— pushed his arm just enough. Almost instantaneously, Azriel’s thumb brushed against the screen.

No, no, no, he thought. He tried to pull back, but it was too late.

The red heart bloomed on the screen.

“No,” Azriel muttered, out loud this time. He sat up so fast his phone almost slipped from his hands. “No,” he repeated in horror, as his wings curled tight against his back, the sharp movement almost painful.

The heart lingered there, mocking him. A post from three years ago, a photo you probably hadn’t even remembered. And now your notifications would light up with his name. He’d be exposed in all of his stalker glory. 

He jammed his thumb into the screen, unliking the post, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done. He couldn’t undo it. The guilt, the horror—he hadn’t felt this mortified in centuries. His shadows hovered near him, drifting around his head like little mischievous wraiths. Watching him. Waiting for the fallout.

Azriel cursed under his breath. “You made me do this.”

They flicked in response—teasing. An amused dance. Keep. Wait.

A strangled noise left him. He tossed his phone onto the bed next to him, face down, trying to escape the embarrassment of what he’d just done. His shadows were quick, though, swarming toward the phone. Tendrils grasped it and brought it back to his chest, setting it down with a soft thud.

“Really?” he hissed at them.

The shadows responded with an amused flicker, their tendrils writhing in a way that felt like they were laughing. They were laughing. Azriel knew this. They were loving this, basking in his mortification.

Maybe they’d been too bored recently, he thought bitterly. After all, they were used to the adrenaline of constant threats, the thrill of danger lurking at every corner. To be honest, so was he. It had been a learning curve for all of them to adjust to… peace. But he would’ve never expected them to stoop so low—to find this, his embarrassment, so entertaining.

They used to protect him. Used to care for him. Traitors. Mischievous, conniving traitors.

They’d painted him as a stalker without even realizing it, and worse, they seemed proud of it.

Azriel groaned, dragging a hand over his face. 

Social media sucked.

Azriel groaned in frustration and leaned back against the wall behind his bed. His wings were still tight against his back, every muscle tense. If he ignored it, maybe it would just never come up again—maybe the world would stop spinning long enough for this nightmare to pass. Why was he so embarrassed, anyway? 

Master with slippery fingers. Funny. Spy now seen. Funny.

Then, his phone buzzed.

Azriel froze. His blood ran cold, and he picked it up slowly, like it was a trap. He glanced at the notification, and his stomach flipped.

Your name. In a godsdamned text. 

He almost dropped the phone again.

Did you just like a photo from three years ago? 👀

His eyes darted to the next message.

Deep dive, huh?

A long beat of silence stretched. His shadows circled around him, pressing close like nosy little imps, smirking in their own way. Azriel couldn’t decide whether to laugh or die from embarrassment.

Sorry, accident.

He grimaced the second he watched the message send. Shadows pressed in closer. More. More. He ran his tongue along his teeth before letting out another sigh. Nothing to lose at this point. 

I was feeling nostalgic.

Azriel hit send before he could stop himself. 

And then immediately regretted it. He flopped back on his bed with an aggravated groan. This. Was. A. Disaster. And he’d just made it worse. He had yet to understand why his common sense tended to disappear when it came to you. It was humbling, to say the least. 

His family wouldn’t let this go. Not in a million years. He could already hear Cassian’s booming laugh, the bastard cringing with mock horror despite being the least shameful person Azriel knew. Cass had done the same thing once—accidentally liking someone’s post—and he’d turned redder than Rhys’s favorite wine.

Then there were the times Mor had complained about people lurking on her profile, her nose wrinkling as she muttered about how gross it was. If she found out about this? She’d never let him hear the end of it.

And you. He didn’t even want to imagine how you’d respond if you found out. Would you laugh it off? Would you be creeped out, knowing he hadn’t managed to hold a proper conversation with you, but here he was… lurking? He was never beating the strange, stalker allegations now.

Shrouded in shadow, Night Court’s spymaster secretly loves creeping on his family’s friends on social media. Oh yes, that’d be wonderful for their polished image.

He shook his head, hating how the mortifying narrative practically wrote itself. Of course, he was overreacting—he knew that much. Liking a post wasn’t some cardinal sin. But it didn’t help his embarrassment.

And it definitely didn’t help that his shadows were snickering in his ears.

Another buzz. He grabbed his phone with impressive speed.

Nostalgic? For a party you weren’t even at? Interesting.

In a matter of seconds, Azriel typed out a dozen responses—short, curt, defensive—before erasing them all. Shadows around him fluttered, restless with amusement. Even they understood just how thoroughly he’d boxed himself in. They whispered ideas he promptly ignored. He was already in enough trouble. Finally, he settled on something somewhat believable:

Mor told me about your great costume from a few years back. I wanted to appreciate it.

His thumb hovered over the send button before he hit it, the message firing off into the void. Three dots appeared almost instantly. Then disappeared. Then reappeared.

He swore under his breath.

The reply came a moment later: Sure. If it’s my costume you’re appreciating, just say that.

Azriel blinked. He stared at the screen, torn between mortification and something sharper—something dangerously close to hope.

Before he could stop himself, he typed: Maybe I was.

And then he tossed the phone onto the bed once more. The shadows followed the device, swarming it as it buzzed again almost immediately.

He hesitated. A long moment passed before he finally picked it up.

Well, for the record, I appreciated your deep dive. Very endearing.

His heart stuttered. Endearing. You thought it was endearing. He could work with this. 

For once, he didn’t overthink it.

For the record,  he replied, I appreciated the costume.

When he set the phone down this time, he couldn’t help the small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A swarm of black swirled around him. Their presence was almost smug now, wrapping him in their knowing energy. 

“Not a word,” Azriel muttered, narrowing his eyes at the nearest wisp as it curled around his wrist.

To his surprise, they listened. They settled, their tendrils spreading out and draping across him like a heavy blanket. Relaxed. Content. Slow, despite the erratic pattering of his heart beneath them.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

if you saw any typos…no you didn’t. @writingcroissant dictatori was pressuring me to post 😔. thank you for reading 🫶🏻🫶🏻

im sorry but the idea of az, who is so good at hiding everything, freaking the FUCK out bc he doesnt understand social media cracks me uppppp

canon-typical prythian but with social media has been on my mind so much. you may see some more of this world im ngl

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows

azriel tag list 🫶🏻:@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder  @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits @honethatty12

[lambilegs]

✮🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺✮

striking a deal (sevika x reader)

contains: sevika being a jackass (what's new tho I still love her), gambling, reader sort of being a hater against gambling due to the negative impacts its had on their friend, enemies-with-a-bit-of-desire sort of vibe going on, reader is called a "girlfriend," very sfw, not much explicit romance and just a bit of flirting + attraction

a/n: hiii pookies so this is my first fic for miss sevika!! I hope it's accurate to her character and you all enjoy <33 would love to hear what y'all think hehe

art: four gentlemen of high rank playing primero

✮🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺✮

"hey, do you know where I can find sevika?" you tentatively ask the bartender. he's some nervous looking kid who's probably going to quit after two weeks of witnessing the shit show that is the last drop since vander was killed.

not that you can blame him. you rarely frequent this part of the undercity, avoiding it for both the sake of safety and your own sense of sanity. you couldn't stand half the crap that went down here -- all the drunken fights, the sloshing of alcohol spilling and soaking through nearly every visitor's clothes, the lewd public displays that sent your face burning and ducking down -- and, of course, the gambling.

the damn gambling you had been imploring your friend, zafar, to put aside for almost half a year now. ever since he had lost his younger sister to an "intervention" enforcers had made at a party a year ago, every bad habit of his that had once been a small spring in the ground, roots shallow, had blossomed into a rotten, ugly plant that had spread faster than the blink of an eye could capture. you tried to be there for him, you did, but you also had your own family to take care of, and with his new friends being nothing but a bunch of enablers, he had now landed himself into a world of debt.

why, you ask? he had made the stupid decision to play with one of silco's little henchmen, sevika, whose reputation at cards is so notorious that even you've heard of it from your dinky little corner, far away from this place. you had heard rumours of her, some admiring, others downright terrifying. her help in smuggling shimmer, the ass-whooping she did for silco, how she was a constant presence when it came to the drug lord. that was enough to drain you of any admiration you could've beheld for such a strong woman. you had seen what shimmer did, the power it had in crumbling people's bodies, mental states, and their ability to keep living. you don't approve of anyone who's involved in the horrors of it.

the only reason you're here now is because zafar came to you sobbing this morning, grief heavy in his eyes over the money he had lost. he claimed sevika cheated it out of him, and while you still aren't sure as to how true that is, you'd at least try to set the record straight with her. you want to do something, anything, for standing around and watching zafar self-destruct no longer feels like a valid option. you promised him you'd try to see if you could convince her to return his money, under the condition of him avoiding gambling as best as he could and beginning to work part-time at the shop where you worked so he could have a more reliable source of income.

you can only hope this shitty plan will be in your favour. already, your stomach is tightening with anxiety, the knot circling and circling to bulge against your gut and make you slightly nauseated. but, you try to, at least physically, keep your cool, schooling your features to be calm, levelled and devoid of any jitters or twitches.

the bartender cocks his head to a dark corner near the jukebox. "right there. why, you've got business with her?"

a spring of irritation flickers through you at his prodding. the less he knows, the better. "in a way." you nod your thanks, then make your way to her.

you had seen flashes of sevika before. rallies, protests, gang fights. a blur of dark hair, a murky red cape and swinging fists. that's all she ever was to you. so, now, to behold her in her full state, feels... intimidating, to say the least. she carries herself as though the rickety wooden boards and worn out hinges of this place are her prized palace and she's the hailing king, rightfully seated on her throne. her dark lips are twisted into a leering smirk, haughtily bringing her cigar to them and taking a prideful puff from it. you swallow hard. you're definitely out of your league.

you linger nearby, watching through the crowd and awaiting an opportunity to approach her. when the men around her slam their palms down on the shared table, groaning and shutting their eyes in clear loss, her arm tossing towards them cockily, you stiffen up. you have an opening.

as the losers begin to file away, shoulders slumped in defeat, you can't help but feel a twinge of pity for them. everyone in this city struggles, one way or another. to have those struggles tied off with a loss in poker is a downright cursed fate. you try not to meet their eyes, sliding through the sweaty bodies until you reach her table.

you pause in front of her, hands twiddling as she collects the coins. you wait for her to look up, and when a few seconds pass and no such thing happens, you clear your throat.

eyes still casted onto the table, she speaks. her voice is like sand that's fallen through the surface of the ocean, rough and textured, impossibly deep and smooth. "you waited your turn long enough. what do you want?"

you flinch. "waited my turn?"

she tilts her head in the direction you came from. "you were lurking there. just watching, or is there something you need?"

jesus, and here you had thought you were at least a bit subtle. "oh, I--"

"didn't think I'd notice you?" she scoffs, scooping up the coins and pouring them into a small sack. "you almost fell head-first when bunny-face bumped into you."

your eye nearly twitches. "okay, well, good observation, I guess." honestly, it's impressive. you had expected her to be all brawn, no brain. "I'm here to talk to you about something."

her eyes finally meet yours. they're nearly silver, a dark grey that flashes under the colourful lights. her gaze is piercing, punctuated all the more by her dark eyebrows that are drawn in curiosity. "make it quick."

that's all you need. "okay, well, my friend, zafar, gambled with you last night."

"okay."

"well, you won, and took a bunch of his money." you wobble on your feet, hesitation seizing at you due to the accusation you're about to lay out. she could probably snap your neck in less than a millisecond. you've heard of her ability to totally crush any enemy designated to her by silco. definitely not a person whose bad side you want to get on. hopefully, nothing of the sort will happen if you express yourself in enough of a civilized way. "he, I don't know if it's true, but he says you cheated." you avert your eyes, the hand in your pocket gripping tightly onto the handle of your dagger. you haven't had to use it, not yet, at least, but in the undercity, it's better to be safe than sorry. and, frankly, you're expecting the worse from her.

which is why you nearly flinch when the corner of her lip twists up, and she says, "a common scapegoat for losers."

protectiveness immediately kicks in, searing through your body and urging you through your fear. you know it's hypocritical, considering you, too, don't fully believe him. but, still, you at least know his character, whereas she's just riding off her assumptions. "he could just as well be telling the truth."

"oh, yeah? is that why he sent his little girlfriend to save his ass?"

gross. the insinuation feels nearly as offensive as her insults towards him. "I'm not his girlfriend. and I volunteered to come here myself."

her eyes flicker up to you, and you rear back when they linger on your face, skimming over your features before settling back down to the table. "and while that's nice, and well, pretty stupid of you, I didn't do any cheating. anything he lost was because he couldn't play his hand well."

you grit your teeth together. "I'm not stupid. I just came here for a friend."

"a friend who clearly is a sloppy poker player and likely to lose to anyone who has the playing ability of a child." she snickers, and you catch sight of the split between her two front teeth, a little gap protruding. you force yourself to meet her eyes. the last thing you'd want is for her to catch you staring at her mouth.

what's worse is that you can't even argue back with her on this. for all you know, zafar very well may be a shit player. probably is, in all honesty. it wouldn't surprise you -- he always was impulsive as hell, and you wouldn't bat an eye to discover that challenging sevika had been an in-the-moment decision of his. but, you know what he's been through. you know how down in the dumps he is financially, and just how desperate he's gotten. his mourning has only made it worse.

"okay, well," you trail off, not really knowing where to continue. you didn't really lay a plan for yourself, and now that she's swiftly shut you down in a manner which you have no rebuttals for, you're not sure how to proceed.

"was that all?"

"no." you force your shoulders to straighten, hoping you sound somewhat firm, maybe even dignified. "is there any way you can return his money? he's been through a lot this year, and--"

she cuts you off with a bark of laughter, the raspy noise of it harsh and grating to your ears. the anger it's stirring in you probably isn't helping either. "okay. listen, friend of...?"

deadpan, you respond, "zafar."

she nods. "yeah, whatever his name is. this game comes with risks, and one of them is losing all your shit if you play with no tact."

you suck in a sharp breath at the condescension in her tone. "I'm well aware of that. but, listen, he's had a hard time of it lately, and--"

"and what? we've all had a hard time of it lately. if he chose to put his life's worth on the table, that isn't my problem."

"I'm not saying it is, but c'mon, can't you have a little empathy now and return his money?" you stick an incredulous finger at the table. "you have enough as is! no need to drain every zaunite of their hard-earned money before you're satisfied."

her eyes flutter in what seems to be exasperation, but you firmly planted, both on your feet and in your stance. physically, you can't do shit against this mass of muscle. but, maybe, just maybe, you can verbally get somewhere.

she stares up at you, elbows propped on her knees. "if it's so hard-earned, why did your friend gamble it away? are you asking me to return someone's money because they were an idiot?"

frustration begins to gnaw at your stomach, a burning sensation swarming through your insides and making you tense up. "I'm telling you, he's not in his right mind right now. things have happened in his family lately, and it's been hard for him."

"are you forgetting where you live? things happen in every family here. being smart is how you survive. if your friend can't do that..." she shrugs, continuing to sweep the coins into the opening of the sack. "then, that's not my problem."

"being a decent person helps in surviving in this place, too. being there for each other and our community. don't you care about that?"

her movements halt for a second, eyes flicking between you and the table. you nearly crack a grin and do a little rejoicing dance. bingo.

you add a sticky sweet tone to your voice, pleading and coaxing. you've heard she frequents babette's brothel, and if that's any indication about where her romantic interests lie, maybe you'll be able to woe her into complacency. "c'mon, I promise, he'll never gamble with you again, and if he does, take anything and keep it. but, please, just this one time, help him out, hm? do it for him, do it for your people."

her face, which was stoic only moments ago, shatters into a loud round of laughter, her palm smacking against her knee. "I gotta hand it to you, the 'for your people' thing was a nice touch." she stands up, and you try not to blink too hard at the sight of her towering over you. jesus, she's gigantic. no wonder people are scared shitless of her. no wonder you were scared shitless of her. "now, be honest. was the money yours? boyfriend left you and stole from the cookie jar? told you you had to come and get it back yourself?"

the more she talks, the more you get the sense that to her, this conversation is simply something to toy with, and just engage with as a playful little pastime. it only causes more anger to ooze within you, fiery and hot within your guts, like lava. this isn't a game. this is about people's lives, people's financial sustenance. she must earn a decent amount of time for her work for silco, and yet here she is, milking the people of zaun who don't know any better or who are too entrenched in their habits to put a stop to their gambling.

you want to make a jab at her that's as harsh as the blow to your ego was. it might risk you a limb, but you're praying the surprising amount of calm she's shown so far is a sign that your safety is secure. "you know what? I was stupid for coming here in the first place. to think one of silco's little servants would actually have a moral compass."

unfortunately, her irritatingly cool collection not only keeps your physical wellbeing in check, but does the complete opposite to your pride. for all she does is stare down at you, the long, blue scar seeping through her cheek curling as she chuckles, the noise husky and rough, like crushed velvet. "ouch. good one. anyone else might've gotten offended by that." her stormy eyes skip to your lips for a split second. "quite the mouth you have on you."

what the fuck is that supposed to mean? is that a pass or a genuine comment on your temper, which is very much flaring up? either way, you're determined to try harder to goad her. "yeah, well, I'm sure it has no impact on you, right? after all, you spend your days contributing to half the shit going down in this fucked up city."

her jaw suddenly clenches, mouth pressing together. you would've thought someone in this business would be a bit more discreet with the physical manifestations of their moods. but, sevika is like an open book, grey eyes wide, and eyebrows sunk down, her newfound disdain clear as day. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"the shimmer," you answer, squinting at her, praying the expression conveys how stupid you think she is. "your little boss has just tossed it to this city and watches the damages of it unfold without doing shit. wasn't his glorious plan to make this city a better place, not fuck us over even more?"

"the shimmer is helping," she retorts, her voice harder than before, lined with a firm pressure that had been absent in her prior teasing and casual dismissal. "we have something that topside could only wish for, something that gives us an advantage."

"an advantage?" you laugh bitterly. the injustice of it all, the agony you see your people in everyday -- it all floods your insides, wracking you from within. "it's been years since it's come about, and nothing has changed. piltover is still on top, and in addition to that, they have hextech." you make sure your eyes pointedly lock onto hers, hoping she feels every single fibre of your rage. "just admit it. you guys haven't done shit."

"and what exactly are you doing?" her voice is lowered to a heavy whisper, and you feel the noises surrounding you two melt away into a light, background buzz. the iciness of her voice feels almost worst than any other stupid tone she's taken since you started interacting.

"something you and your boss don't seem to be helping at all with." you give her a tight-lipped smile, your gums aching with how hard your teeth press in together, the disjointed shapes of them uncomfortable and crooked as they mash at the edges. "trying to survive."

her nostrils flare, her burning glare pulsing through the barrier of your skin and making your insides turn from the onslaught of anxiety that enters. god, will she unleash some goons on you now or something?

"sevika!"

you jerk at the sudden sound, whereas sevika simply blinks down at you, gaze unrelenting. "what?" she calls out.

uncomfortable at having her eyes still pointed at you, you turn to the voice, seeing a man with small, rectangular glasses hanging off his nose looking awfully mopey.

"you promised us another round," the guy wails, tossing his hands in the air.

you swallow hard at the silence that ensues, still feeling her stormy eyes hooked onto you. after a moment, she says, "maybe later."

the man's shoulders sag as he heaves a dramatic sigh, turning to who seems to be his friend, whimpering, "she's too busy with her date."

you grimace at the mistake, though the disgust you feel at it is fused with an irritation directed at the way your stomach spins at the word 'date.' you're not stupid -- sevika is, objectively, pretty attractive. hot, some people might say. but, jesus, she's a bitch too. and working with silco, which makes for a very unappealing combination.

"come on," she drawls out. you turn back to her, the anger from before now replaced with a wide smirk, one sharp eyebrow lifted up inquisitively. "I can't be all that bad, can I?"

you roll your eyes. this conversation has strayed too much as is, and you're not about to let it tiptoe off into flirtatious territory. "are you going to give my friend back his money or not?"

"hm," she ponders, and lifting a hand to stroke her cheek. you can immediately catch a whiff of the falsehood in the gesture, and tap your foot, waiting for her to just solidify your assumption. "no, I won't. but, do give him my regards."

you grunt, shaking your head. despite your expectancy of it, you can't help but feel a stone of disappointment sink through the waters of your body, falling to the bottom with more impact than you'd like. you shouldn't expect anything of her, there's no reason for you to feel disappointment. your expectations shouldn't have gotten this high in the first place. "of course. have a good day."

as you whirl around to leave, she grabs your forearm, callouses brushing against your skin. "hey, I just turned down a poker game for you."

"uh, yeah, and as a reward, you get a departure from me that doesn't include a kick to the shin." you snatch your arm from her grasp, trying to direct your thoughts to her shitty words as a desperate attempt to ignore the warmth in your stomach. "you're welcome."

with her snarky laugh ringing in your ears, you practically dash to the door, wanting to get out as soon as possible.

it's awful, but at the opening, something in you whispers for you to look back once more. it's okay -- it's reasonable, right? you barely frequent this place, anyone would want to catch one last glance at such a notorious woman in your city, no matter how degenerate and callous she is.

the only con to this is as soon as you find sight of her through your tentative search of the crowd, she's already staring back at you. at being caught, you internally cringe, the feeling only intensified by a tenfold when she tips her head at you with a grin.

ugh. never again.

two weeks later, you find a crisp envelope laying out on the mat outside your front door. in neat, cursive writing, it reads:

A thank you gift for the free business consultation. Do with it what you will. Whether you or someone else needs it. - S

[arthenaa]

Unspoken Attraction — Sebastian Sallow x Reader

PLOT SUMMARY:

The girls and you have a talk on who they'll date amongst the students in Hogwarts. No one mentions Sebastian despite being deemed the most handsome in your year. You wonder why?

DISCLAIMER:

gossip gossip hihi, imelda being the best and just roasts every1 esp seb, seb being down bad, realizations, friends 2 lovers, kiss kiss fall in love, gender neutral reader, readers house is up to u, fluff disgusting fluff, i love u sallow boy.

"I think Amit is quite handsome. I suppose he'd be a good conversation partner." Natty hums as she rests her chin on the palm of her hand. Imelda looks at her with disgust.

"He'd probably love astronomy more than you in your relationship. I'd punch him on the first date." Imelda scoffs, rolling her eyes. Poppy just gives the Slytherin gal a glare for her unkind words.

The four of you were lounging in the empty Beasts classroom, relaxing in the cool breeze coming from the forest. Professor Howin had allowed the four of you (originally you and Poppy, but Imelda and Natty had passed by and decided to tag along) to stay in the classroom in hopes of teaching the new 5th year (You) more about Beasts but all you've done in the past hour is sit on one of the tables and talk about the most random of things. Now you were talking about who to date in Hogwarts.

"What about Yrma?" Poppy suggests. "She's nice."

"Stop suggesting Ravenclaws. I physically cannot handle it." Imelda grunts. You shoot her a sympathetic look to which she flips you off. "Also, she's a third year. I'd die if you pair me up with someone younger. A journalist, too, she'd know every step I'll do, and I'll just have an aneurysm because of it."

"Alright, what about Weasley?" You suggest. Natty makes a look, considering the option. Poppy sighs and shakes her head.

"Which one?" Imelda jokes, to which Natty smacks her arm. Poppy rolls her eyes before answering the question.

"He's cute but too mischievous." Poppy lists. Imelda nods, agreeing with her statement. Poppy pets the Puffskein sleeping on her lap, smiling softly at the cute creature snoring away.

"Eh. He's fun. I can probably handle him." Natty says. You let out a small laugh.

"I'll pass. He's like a brother to me. Probably because Professor Weasley acts too much like a mom." You reply. You lean closer to Poppy, glancing down at the Puffskein to coo at it.

"What about Dale? She's cute." Natty suggests. She then turns to Imelda, who looks like she'd complain once more about a Ravenclaw being listed. "Don't."

"What? I wasn't gonna say anything..."

"It's because her past lover was from Ravenclaw that she's like this." Poppy says with a disappointed look on her face. "Clumping up all Ravenclaws and putting your prejudice that was originally for one person into the general public, huh?"

"Shut it, Sweeting." Imelda glares at her.

"Alright, stop fighting. I know you'd rather date a Hufflepuff, Reyes." You tease. The Slytherin's cheeks flush, and a harsh kick to your knee sends you jolting up against the table with a pained groan. The Puffskein awakens to the sudden harsh movement and jumps off Poppy's lap.

"Imelda!" Poppy whines as she watches the Puffskein hop away to its den. "Look at what you did!"

"How'd you even know it was me?!" Imelda complains. Poppy crosses her arms over her chest.

"You're seated directly in front of Y/N. They'd never jump for no reason, and also, Natty's an angel. Besides, I could feel the kick." Poppy chastised. Imelda looks away with furrowed eyebrows and a pout as she grumbles about it, not being her fault. You look at the two with a smile.

"It's okay, Poppy, let's just continue." You send Imelda a knowing smile to which she scowls at. Natty giggles at the interaction.

"Ooh, what about Gaunt?" Natty wiggles her eyebrows. "He's a young lord. Deemed one of the most handsome in our year. I'd date him."

"Really? You'd get pulverized by his crazy blood status fanatic of a family." Imelda leans forward to place her arms on the table before leaning down to rest her head on it. "But I guess he's decent. The type to defend you against them. A typical romantic cliche."

"Doesn't he have a lover?" Poppy mentions. Imelda immediately rises up at the information.

"Oh yeah. I saw them snogging near DADA. Sebastian looked like he was constipated, muttered about when it was his turn to be happy or something." Imelda cringes at the memory. At the mention of the Sallow boy's name, Natty and Poppy glance at each other with knowing looks. Suddenly, their attention is on you.

"What about you, Y/N? Will you date Ominis?" Poppy smiles knowingly. There's something about the two's stare that puts you in an uncomfortable position.

"Uh..." You purse your lips in thought. Ominis was one of your best friends. He had been with you through thick and thin, but that's all he ever was. Besides, he was happily in love with someone else. "Not really? Same answer with Gareth's."

Natty nods in understanding. Imelda glances at the two in confusion. "Why do you two look like you're the one who's constipated?"

"Shut it, Reyes." Poppy rolls her eyes. You laugh at their bickering. At this point, there was one person who definitely should be mentioned in this conversation. He was already well known in the school for his charming personality and handsome looks. People always gossip about him. You let out a shaky breath before nervously glancing at the three.

"What about Sebastian?" You suggest. The three fall in silence, not responding to the question. It didn't even look like they were contemplating about it. "Hello? Did you not hear me or what—"

"Oh no, we heard you." Imelda chuckles as she smirks at her. When Imelda smirks, you know it's not good. "I just don't think we can claim him."

"Claim him?" You tilt your head in confusion. "You make it sound like he's already dating someone."

"Ehh..." Natty shrugs her shoulders. "Aren't you?"

"Aren't I what? Huh?" You sat, baffled at their curious looks. "I'm not dating Sebastian?"

The three look at each other before laughing. It wasn't even a casual laugh, it's full on stomach grabbing, tear inducing, I'm-gonna-pee what the fuck laugh. You look at them in confusion.

"Merlin, I can't take this seriously." Natty wipes a tear from her eyes as she continues to laugh.

"I'm really not dating him!?"

"You're so funny!" Imelda pats your shoulder. "Don't tell me kissing each other everywhere except the lips counts as friendly. Who the fuck kisses their friend on the neck?"

"Uh, she has a point." Poppy shrugs. "He walks you to class, holds your hand, and not even in a normal way. It's the intertwined one, and if looks could kill, Garreth Weasley had already been buried months ago."

"Also, he always touches you. An arm on your waist, hugging you from behind, fixing your hair, looking at you like you're the Messiah yourself." Natty lists on, continuing Poppy's evidence. Surely not?

You stare at them with wide eyes and an unreadable look. You and Sebastian had always had a strong bond. Ominis often commented about feeling left out whenever you two were together. You always thought that he was just teasing you about it. The things that you've gone through had eliminated all barriers between the two of you, so physical affection had seem normal for you. Had the line between friends and more than friends became too blurred already?

"Merlin's beard. You don't know!" Natty gasps in shock. "Rafiki, that is more than just friendship."

"But I'm really not..." You try to defend yourself, but the more that they stare at you, the more you start to realize how obvious it should've been. Before you could try and convince yourself about how ludicrous it is all, Imelda delivers the final blow.

"Love, everyone knows Sebastian is yours."

Heat rises to your cheeks, and as if things couldn't get any worse, a familiar voice calls out to your little group.

"There you are!" Sebastian Sallow, the devil himself, grins as he approches your little group with Ominis trailing behind. The three cough at his sudden appearance and you freeze in your seat.

He makes his way behind you, grasping your shoulder firmly before leaning down close to your face. "Hey, I'm here. No greeting?"

You turn your head towards him, glancing at the three girls who look away, trying to contain their laughter. You look back at Sebastian, who smiles, expecting something. You sigh, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. He lights up like a Christmas tree.

At the sight of affection, the three suddenly stand up, collecting their things. "O-oh I just remembered I forgot to water the chinese cabbages again, haha! Silly me! I better go get it!" Natty says with a poorly concealed smile. Sebastian looks at her, confused.

"Uh? Okay?" Sebastian awkwardly laughs. You glared at her as she grabbed Imelda and Poppy who make haste in gathering their things.

"I also have to bring them and Ominis because of ... uh... safety." Natty bullshits her way through as Imelda grabs the young Gaunt's arm, pulling him with them.

"Huh what? I didn't get a say in th—" Poppy covers his mouth as they walk away, dragging him along. Natty gives her a final thumbs up of encouragement as the two of you watch in confusion. You watch as their figures disappear before the boy beside you finally breaks the silence.

"There they go." Sebastian sighs. "I was hoping I'd get to hang out, but oh well. I don't really have complaints with just us here."

You flush at his bluntness as he sits down beside you, pulling your figure to his arms. He hugs you tightly before resting his head on your shoulder. "History of Magic felt like forever. I swear I'd never be able to stay awake in that class. Binns must've put something in the air."

You couldn't focus. He's so close.

"Lucky that you and Ominis get to share that class. At least you'd have someone to suffer with." He jokes as he raises his head. Silence engulfs you both as he stares at your face.

"Stop." You groan as you try to push his face away, but he only grasps your hand in his palm.

"Why? You look like you're about to explode." He laughs softly. You still couldn't look at him, eyes trained at the table in front of you. To make things worse, he grabs your chin before softly turning your head towards him.

"I'm talking to you. Look at me." He mumbles lowly in a deep voice. You almost wanted to whimper at how attractive that was.

"Stop doing that, I swear." You whisper as you look at him, nervousness creeping. He smirks, leaning in.

"Why? You seem so quiet today." He chuckles, pulling you closer as he tucks a stray hair away from your face. "What's got your pretty little head busy, hm?"

"You." You admit as your eyes admire his features. He lets out a soft smile.

"Me?"

"Yeah." You raise your hands to cup his cheeks. The two of you had been sitting so close that if you just lean a little bit forward, you'd be able to kiss him.

"Yeah?" He raises his eyebrows in amusement as his gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips.

"You're so annoying." You pout. He bites his lip before dropping his head on your shoulder. Your fingers then softly scratch his scalp and twirling his curls. He raises his head back up before unashamedly stares at your lips.

"I don't need to tell you what's going to happen, right?" He whispers. You gulp nervously as your arms slide up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Mhm." You hum before placing a chaste kiss on his lips, testing the waters. He lets out a shaky breath at the sudden action. You look up at his eyes, trying to discern if what you did was okay before he grins fully and leans back down to kiss you again.

Your body unconsciously pushes against him, craving his touch. You tenderly kiss him back, hands occuppied with his soft hair. His hands rub your lower back gently as he continues to kiss you. You don't know how much time has passed before you pull away. You both smile at each other before Sebastian leans forward to give you more pecks on the lips. You giggle at his behavior.

"I like you." He whispers, nudging his nose against yours. You smile at his confession, palms now cupping his cheeks. You press a firm kiss on his lips before staring at him in adoration.

"I like you too."

A/N 1.1 : IM DEAD i love this. Also im not sure if I said friend in Swahili right ,,, lmk if its correct 🫶

A/N 1.2 : TYSM FOR ENJOYING THIS LOVE U ALL

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Spoil of War

dark!aegon x niece!reader

summary: aegon enjoys his time with his prisoner of war

A/N: my bad y'all, it took me forever to get this up

TW: MAJOR DUBCON, smut!!, bondage, incest, violence, kidnapping, degradation, body worship perhaps

word count: 2,245 words

You sit in your childhood bedroom, stewing with your thoughts. It was all so quick, the battle with Daeron, the demise of your dragon. You should be grateful; she spent her last moments cushioning your fall so you wouldn’t die on impact, but you can’t help thinking that you would be better off dead. There’s hardly anything worse than being a prisoner of war, except being Aegon’s prisoner of war.

Speak of the Devil, Aegon has the guards open your chamber doors and the smug bastard strolls in. “Ah, my sweet niece. I finally have the chance to lay my eyes on you.” He regards your nightgown with great interest. You haven’t had a chance to dress yourself for the day yet. “You’ve been quite the subject of controversy as of late.” He says with a light smirk.

“Which part is controversial, the fact that you’re keeping me prisoner, usurper?” You say back to him with spite.

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. It’s a temporary situation.” He says, unconcerned as he walks over to your dining table of untouched food and picks up an apple, taking a bite of it. “Once your mother bends the knee, i’ll return you to her. It’s as easy as that.”

“Or they’ll take control of King’s Landing and Daemon will slaughter you where you stand.” You’ve never heard your voice filled with such hate before as when you speak now.

“Come on, the threats are hardly necessary. You are safe with us - for the time being.” He makes a stupid joking cringe face at the second part of his sentence. “You could do with being more amicable.”

“Amicable? I’m your fucking prisoner and if her Grace the Queen doesn’t bend the knee to your spoiled, traitorus ass, you’ll execute me.”

“War doesn’t often give you many options. And you, my dear niece, are a very valuable bargaining chip.” As he speaks, you know he takes the utmost pleasure in you being in his control. You want to wipe the smug grin off his face.

You reach for the piece of glass you had hidden, ever so slowly. You feel your hand clutch it and your gaze is filled with rage as you launch yourself at him. “You traitor!” You aim for his throat with the sharp point but he catches your arm. The broken glass barely grazes him, leaving only the thinnest line of blood as proof of your attack. He twists your arm and the piece of glass clatters to the floor. Your uncle releases you only so he can backhand you so hard that you fall to the floor.

“Gods, you’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” He wipes the drip of the blood off his neck. “Clever girl, going for the throat.” He laughs at you. You just tried to kill him and he laughs at you.

You glare up at him, your face distraught and full of vengeance. You quickly reach for the glass that you had dropped but as soon as you manage to grip it again, Aegon kicks you in the stomach. You curl into yourself, whimpering.

“Okay that’s enough of that. Guards!” The guards immediately enter the room, ready to defend their king. “Restrain her. Use… rope.” He has a certain look on his face as he says the last word, seemingly pleased with himself as he struts out of the room.

You’re left on your knees, by the fireplace for an hour until Aegon returns. Your hands behind your back, the bindings keeping you in place. There is, what you consider to be, an unnecessary amount of rope tied around your body that is seemingly for decoration, for your uncle’s pleasure.

“Are you calm now?” He asks as he strides back into your chamber with arrogance. “I wasn’t sure what the cool down time was for Strong bastards.” His stare is hungry as he looks upon you. “What a pleasant sight, my combative niece tied up at my feet.” He almost mumbles the last part.

“I will be calm when I watch your body burn.” There is heat in your words, your threats.

“That is a lot of big talk for a girl who is kneeling for her king. You’re much more desirable like this… when you’re helpless beneath my gaze.” His fingertips graze under your chin, tilting it up so you have to look at him. You jerk your head away.

“Don’t touch me!” You spit at his feet.

“Silly to say such things when you’re at my mercy.” He kneels down to look at you better, his fingers run along your soft hair. “I’ve never been more tempted. And i’ve been tempted many, many times.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “I had forgotten how divine you are.”

You know where he’s going with this, what he wants. His finger trails down your nightgown, to your breast, giving it a light squeeze. “You’ll burn in the Seven Hells for this!” You say as you fight against your restraints.

He ignores your words. “If I were a more brazen man, i’d ravish you right here and now… oh wait.” He chuckles at his own joke.

The fire burns bright behind you and his dagger gleams in the warm light as he unsheathes it. He cuts one of the cap sleeves of your nightgown. “You have no right.” Your eyes flare bolder than dragonflame as you speak.

“Oh, my lovely sweet niece, I absolutely have the right because you are under my protection. If I want to rip that nightgown off and ravage you, who’s going to stop me?” He says sadistically… lustfully as he cuts the other cap of your gown.

“It’s not a proper way to treat an important bargaining chip.” You say softly. To be truthful, younger you would be preening at the chance to be so close to Aegon. Up until now, you had thought that part of you had died with Luke. Now, he’s so close, so... alluring.

“It’s not, but when have I ever been known to behave properly?” He then cuts your nightgown off of you, down the middle and as swiftly as he can without cutting through your bonds, leaving you naked other than the smallclothes that barely cover your lower half.

His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you almost completely naked. His hand falls to your thigh, rubbing the smooth soft skin. “You’ve always had such a lovely figure, niece.”

You flinch and squirm some more. And then you begin to scream bloody murder. Aegon winces before grabbing part of your torn nightgown and shoving it in your mouth. “Such a noisy girl. Now, that’s better. You shouldn’t scream so much. I only intend to show you a good time. I promise you’ll love it.”  He smirks again. “Well… i’ll love it.”

His other hand trails up your navel, to your breast, giving it another squeeze. He then pushes you back on the flocculent carpet and what a sight you make with your hair splayed around you and your pretty mouth gagged. The pillows are strewn about you, in place so you can sit as close to the crackling fire as you wish. Now, it has become the perfect scene for Aegon to take you. He looks at you as if you are the maiden herself, descended from the heavens to be gifted to him. To him, your fairness outmatches Psyche… it outmatches Aphrodite. 

“You don’t know how long I have waited for this, princess.” He then rips your remaining small clothes off, leaving you completely nude. His eyes just rake over you for a moment before he speaks.  “Ah, a sight I could get used to.” He leans down to kiss your breast, focusing on your nipple, focusing on making you feel good? He litters little marks all over before moving to the other and giving it the same attention. He then begins to methodically kiss down your chest, to your tummy, past your navel. You know what he intends his final destination to be. You keep your legs clamped firmly shut, not fully because you want him to stop, and partly because of the wetness that lies between your thighs.

“Hm, a little shy, are we? How sweet…” It isn’t difficult for him to pry your legs open and he grins at the sight of you dripping for him. “Naughty little girl, all wet for her uncle.” 

You turn your heat to the side so you don’t have to make eye contact with him. He grabs your chin and turns your head back. “No. You will watch as I fuck you with my tongue.” You try not to groan as he licks up between your legs, his eyes on yours as his pupils blow wide. He kisses, licks and nips at you, taking you to places in pleasure you’ve never been before. When his tongue pierces your entrance, you can’t stop the whimper that falls from your lips. You hope the gag muted the sound enough that he wouldn’t hear, but your hopes are dashed when he lifts his head.

“I think I want to hear all the pretty little sounds that you make. No more screaming though. Unless, they’re screams of gratification.” He pulls the torn cloth from your mouth but you keep your lips stubbornly sealed. He shakes his head and chuckles before he is between your thighs again. The man eats you like you’re his last meal but you don’t let a single sound out, much to his displeasure even if he can tell that you don’t do it with ease. 

“Why must you be so difficult?” He asks exasperatedly.

“I want you dead.” He rolls his eyes at the statement. “Perhaps you aren’t as good at pleasuring women as you believe.” That pisses him off.

“You’re such a little liar.” He flips you over so your ass is in the air and your chest and face are squished into a cushion, your hands unable to hold you up due to their bindings. “Perhaps I need to fuck that bratty behaviour out of you.” He says and you hear the rustling of clothes behind you. You know he’s undressing and you know there’s no way you can stop him from taking you now, not with how you have pissed him off, not with how your cunt is so deliciously presented to him. But it won’t stop you from trying.

“Aegon don’t you dare.” You say with all the confidence you can muster. You don’t fear your maidenhood being taken, you fear the possibility of a bastard being put in your belly.

“Don’t you ever presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, wench.” With that, he shoves himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. You let out a strangled moan and he laughs. “No keeping your sounds to yourself now.” He then begins to piston himself into you, the head of him brushing your cervix with each thrust. You feel so full every time his hips meet yours. “Gods i’ve never felt a cunt so tight and wet.” His hands grip your hips roughly so he can bring them back with each thrust, making it feel like he’s hitting deeper inside of you. 

“Aegon…” You whine out and squeeze a little around him.

“You like it, don’t you? You like it when your uncle fucks you. I’ve taken you as a prisoner and now you’re moaning in pleasure as I use you. What would your brothers think, what would your mother think, if they saw you taking my cock so well?”

You just whine his name again in response, your head too cloudy to give him an answer.

“I want you to say it. Say how much you love having me inside you.” He fucks into you so deeply that all you want to do is obey.

“I l-ove it, uncle. I love it when you fuck me.” You whimper out again as he stretches you so perfectly.

“That’s what I fucking thought.” His finger comes between your legs to rub your clit and you almost scream. “God, you’re such a little cockslut. Am I your first, little niece?”

“Y-Yes…” You say softly and he grins.

“I thought so. Nobody gets so worked up like a maiden.” He rubs you harder, so fast that you see stars. You begin to squirm a little as your walls begin to squeeze around his thick cock.

He grasps your hair at the roots and pulls your head back so you have to look him in the eye. “That’s right, cum around my cock, baby. Do it.” You fully reach your peak with his command. He watches your face contort with pleasure as you finish around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm. He gives a few more hard thrusts before spilling his seed in you. “Good girl.”

You wince as he pulls out, feeling empty now. He easily manoeuvres you back to your knees and stands up with you at his feet. He tilts your chin up so you have to look him in the eye again.

“I’ll be visiting you much more often now. You don’t have the kind of cunt a man can handle only fucking once.” His thumb strokes your cheek. For the depravity he speaks, his voice is surprisingly soft

“I hate you.”

He smiles gently. “Hate me all you want. I can take it.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie threw an arm over Steve's shoulder, bringing him into a half-hug, “So, what did you guys think?”

“It was great!” Steve said quickly, relaxing into Eddie’s side, “You guys killed it, dude!”

“He’s right,” Robin agreed, “It was awesome! Super, duper fun and we’re so glad we got to see it. But actually, we kinda got to go-”

Eddie frowned, the loose grip he had over Steve’s shoulder tightening on it’s own accord, “Go where? Don’t tell me you guys are tired already?”

For some reason, Robin didn’t look at him after he asked the question. Instead she looked to Steve, a brow raised as she waited for something. But then Steve was giving her a subtle nod, her queue to start talking again. She leaned in closer, whispering as loud as she could in the noisy environment, “So… you’re like cool, right? Steve said you were cool.”

Eddie cocked his head at her, beyond confused, “I-yes? I guess?”

“About the thing?” She pressed, jerking her head his direction, “Steve’s thing?”

“Oh!” Eddie blurted, finally catching on. But he still didn’t get what Steve being gay had to do with them ditching. He nodded quickly, “Very cool with it. Have zero issues.”

It was almost true. Whatever issues Eddie had with Steve’s sexuality involved his own bullshit more than anything else. Plus, his answer had Robin smiling. Gesturing for Eddie to lean in closer, “Good. Because we, um. Share the affliction if you catch my drift.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie said, not missing a beat. He had kind of figured that out along the way. Considering the process of elimination on who could have possibly talked Steve through his queer thoughts. Not that Eddie cared, “No problem here.”

“Good!” She said with a grin, “Then you know just how limited our options are where we live. And according to an insanely pretty girl, there is an honest to god gay bar, like a few blocks away!”

Eddie swallowed, discomfort suddenly settling in at the suggestion, “T-That’s where you guys are going?”

“Yeah!” She said excitedly, setting her sights back onto Steve, “It’s time for someone to realize that we are hot enough to flirt and be flirted with! Closets don’t matter when you’re hours away from home.”

“We share the exact same closet,” Steve groaned, “Don’t start preaching to me.”

“And tonight we can escape from it!” Robin argued, “Come on! Eddie’s going to be busy with his friends and groupies anyway. What else are we doing-”

“I’m actually not that busy,” Eddie interrupted, trying his damndest to keep his voice calm. Suddenly, he felt nauseous again. He didn’t-He knew Steve could handle himself. He did. B-But creeps were everywhere! And he wasn’t used to being around guys who only wanted one thing and Robin would be distracted with girls a-and Eddie was really struggling with this idea.

Though Steve seemed to disagree. The next thing he knew, Steve was smiling back at her. Letting out a good-natured sigh, “Fine, fine! We can go. Someone has to make sure you don’t get kidnapped.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Robin nearly squealed, bouncing a little in her seat, “This is gonna be so fun!”

Eddie’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his his chest at the excitement, dread starting to fill him. He opened his mouth, words escaping before he could even think of it, “Sounds like you two might need a D.D. I can do it.”

It was probably the first time Eddie had ever invited himself to something he clearly wasn’t a part of. But he had to give himself some credit for how smoothly it came out. 

Robin looked up at him, clearly surprised, “Really? It’s not exactly your scene.”

Eddie shrugged, “It could be. I like George Michael.”

Steve snorted next to him, “That is the one true gay litmus test. You got us there.”

“Seriously though,” Eddie pressed, refusing to let it go, “Then you can both drink, dance, have fun. And not worry about how you’re getting back to the hotel.”

“But don’t you want to stay here?” Steve asked, “Robin wasn’t kidding about the groupies. You should have heard what some of them were saying.”

“You could definitely get laid,” Robin added. She was staring at him now, looking at Eddie in a way that seemed a little past confused. Like she was examining him. Testing him. Or maybe that was just in his head. 

Eddie held firm, “Maybe, but I’d rather hang out with you two vs playing wingman to the boys. What do you say?”

“If you really don’t mind…” Steve said, trailing off. But Eddie could tell that he was happy. He could barely keep his smile to himself as he looked to the side, biting his lip in a way that Eddie fucking knew other people would notice. How could they not? 

from the next chapter of this fic

[fallenclan]

Pls ramble about Maplestar i didn't think much of him at all when he was around

:3

okay so imagine. You are born into Fallenclan as a fresh little kitten. You are told at a very young age that your mom isn't around anymore, but your dad loves you and your two siblings more than anything, and he will do everything in his power to make sure you all are happy and successful. Your siblings are louder than you, more outgoing than you, and arguably more likeable than you, but they look to you as the cat to follow when your dad isnt around, so it's your job to look after them. You're the oldest, after all.

Later into your kithood you are told that your mother died giving birth to the three of you. If you didnt exist, she would still be alive.

You become an apprentice. Your sister is mentored by the cool older cat that is also your friend's mom. Your brother is mentored by one of your dad's best friends, a cat you've known since birth. You are apprenticed to the deputy of Fallenclan--she cares about you, and the clan, but she's also strict, and tells you in no uncertain terms that she expects you to be great. Not good. Great. You think, "If I am not great, is it my fault?" You try your best. You wonder if it is enough.

You become a warrior. Your sister takes on a mate, your brother does, too. Both of them have kits. You never were interested in having a mate, but you can't help but wonder if that's what your clan, your father, wants you to do. Your father, in the meanwhile, takes over the job that your mentor had, and becomes deputy of Fallenclan. Then he becomes leader. He becomes legend. Cats at gatherings say to you, "You must be so proud!" You are. When your back is turned, they say "The son of Goldenstar, he'll be something special, I'm sure."

The deputy, a cat known for her strength, loyalty, and honor, retires, and chooses you out of everyone to take her place. Your father assures you that you'll do great. Your siblings cheer you on and offer their support. You refuse it, politely. You will be a great deputy if you have to pull out all of your fur to do it--and you will do it by yourself. Are you really great if some of your greatness is borrowed? The whole clan depends on you.

Under the cover of night, the clan is attacked. The former deputy dies. One of your best friends dies. Your brother dies. Four kits, six warriors, and one elder die. You are hardly wounded. For moons you keep the night guard and torture yourself thinking about what you could have done to change things. What you could have done better.

Time passes. You age, your sister ages, your father ages. As leader, he has nine lives, but they slowly dwindle. One evening, he's missing from camp longer than he said he would be, and you and your sister go looking for him. You find his body at the bottom of a cliff. You grieve until sundown, and then you travel to receive your nine lives. You see the faces of all the cats you outlived. All the cats you failed. Your niece and great-nephew, your brother, your mentor, your father, your mother. You wake up and it is only you and your medicine cat huddled together in a cave. Your skin hurts, you can feel each fur on your body. You walk home.

You discover that your former apprentice is a murderer. With no other options, you exile him from the clan and watch as he is escorted away. If you had been a better mentor, would he have lived a kinder life? Would he have forgiven his long-time enemy? You'll never find out.

A neighboring clan, which has had it out for Fallenclan since your father was an apprentice, declares war. You run yourself ragged making plans and trying to keep your warriors safe and alive. There are battles, there are scars, but there are no deaths, and the war ends only a few moons later. You congratulate yourself for this feat, and then wonder why it was only when you became leader that war was declared.

Every death that passes, you wonder if you could have prevented it. Every loss that your sister suffers, your nephews and nieces suffer, you contemplate how to fix. You are old now, and there are few Fallenclan cats that knew you before you were an apprentice, before you were a warrior, before you were deputy or leader. You're not a cat, anymore, you are a shelter; protecting your clan and paying little mind to your own needs.

You take a hunting patrol by yourself, late one night. In a dry riverbed, you feel the ground rumble, and look upstream to see a flash flood clawing its way towards you.

You wonder, "Am I fast enough to outrun it?"

You aren't.

[justawritterwithideas]

the green dress effect | s.r

summary: skirts were never to your liking and didn't work for you, until penelope convinces you to try one, and wow, do they work.

warnings: absolutely nothing, enjoy spencer with an IQ of 60. this story is spencer x female reader btw.

words: 1,113.

a/n: I'm finally back with a little au/blurb I wrote during my vacation, I've had more revelations of ideas during them so I hope you like it and wait for them. By the way! Thank you so much for almost 1k likes on the little boyband!spencer blurb, you guys are absolutely crazy, thank you so much! ♡

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You were never a big fan of skirts.

Any kind of skirt.

They caused irritation between your thighs in summer, the material was itchy, when you walked they lifted up and they were always too small. In addition to the sexist comments from men for wearing them, the whistles in the street and the typical comment of "your skirt is too short, you pretend to seduce someone with it" by men who think it is not their fault, but yours for seducing them.

Under that stigma, the skirt was never an option for everyday wear.

Pants, on the other hand, were more comfortable.

They allowed you to walk around easily, they were easy to match, plus they were always on discount at the supermarket.

And they were much more comfortable to wear when you started working at BAU. In fact, they became your best friend.

You could swear on your family that no one had ever seen you in a skirt or dress. You could count on the fingers of your hand the number of times you wore anything other than your collection of different colored pants.

In winter they were long pants, straight cut, flared leg, tight, all kinds. In summer they were shorts or fisherman cut pants, or they could also be ones with a thinner fabric.

Occasion there was, occasion you had a pair of pants for it, as if it were a Taylor Swift song.

That was until Penelope convinced you to accompany her to a little clothing store, with the excuse that she was looking for some accessories for her new outfit for the arrival of spring.

In front of you was a beautiful green dress fitted to your figure, with a nice loose skirt that allowed you to move without feeling trapped.

It fit you like a glove, in the words of Penelope, your new image consultant. It gave a new touch to your aesthetics without taking away the tranquility that usually surrounded your attire.

You had looked in the mirror a thousand times before you could make up your mind - but Penelope's compliments were the fuel for your confidence and you decided to take it home.

After a long week of work, the day finally came when the only thing that needed to be done was the paperwork.

The case? An unsub in Miami who was looking to regain the attention he had as a child, after being involved in a case where his babysitter at the time was murdered. To make himself relevant again, he decided to imitate these deaths so they could talk about him again as they had done before.

Monday had arrived and you could feel the cool breeze on your legs after getting on the elevator. The dress had been the perfect fit for that cool day at Quantico, plus it lent a cheerful tone to the office filled with shades of black and gray.

The persistent murmur reached the ears of your colleagues, who were already immersed in the reports they had to send at the end of the day. Penelope was the first to see what the distraction was about and was surprised by your new look.

"Look at you! No way, you look beautiful. You look just like a little spring fairy, finally someone who can share my love of cheerful colors." Blondie's arm intertwined with yours and they walked together to the cubicles, hearing Luke's whistle.

"Who are you? Please Garcia, introduce me to your friend" joked Luke looking at Penny, who shook her head.

"In your dreams, Alvez. I saw her first." You laughed at both of their comments, separating from Penny to walk over to your cubicle.

"Nice choice of outfit, you really always have an ace up your sleeve." Rossi commented towards your direction, thanking him for the compliment.

"That was a good play, you left a player more than surprised by your hand." Tara turned in the direction of the kitchen, where Spencer stood dumbfounded looking in your direction.

He was carrying two cups of coffee, actually he was carrying his cup of coffee and your cup of tea. But his usual commute was interrupted by your arrival at the office.

He thought he had seen all the wonders of the world, but he was wrong. He hadn't yet seen you in that green dress, which he was sure was perfect to put you at the top of the wonders of the world.

His cheeks were colored a sweet pink, his pupils had dilated and his heart rate had increased, so much so that his carotid was pounding.

"Hey, Spence." You rose from your seat, approaching the man standing in the middle of the aisle until you were facing him. You brought your hands up to his, taking your cup. "Thanks for the tea, it was just what I needed."

A soft nod was his response.

His eyes scanned from head to toe over your body, feeling it wasn't enough for him to take his eyes off you to observe every detail of you and that green dress.

"What do you think of the dress? I know it's not a usual thing to occupy, but I feel it's a good choice for today's weath- Spence, hello?" your hands passed in front of his eyes, catching his attention. "Earth calling Reid, is anyone there?"

Spencer's intrusive thoughts were interrupted by your sweet voice, who was watching him in search of knowing where his precious brain was at the moment.

"Wait... You don't like me? Geez, that's too bad. I think my choice was bad, I'll see what I'll do with him-"

"You look beautiful."

Your nervous glance went to Spence's face, who was watching you breathlessly.

"Really?"

"Don't put him back, please." Your own words startled him. "I-I mean, i-it wasn't a bad choice, i-it looks spectacular on you, well! You always look spectacular, all the time, every day, that's my opinion! B-but your opinion may be different, I mean.."

A giggle came out of your mouth, stopping Spencer's rambling.

"Thanks for the compliment, maybe for next time you can join me in choosing, I've decided I want to give dresses and skirts another try!”

Spencer nodded, following your lead back to your desks to get back to work. But the last thing Spencer did was work, because his eyes were on you and your cute green dress.

"And that's how the effect of a green dress brings an IQ of 187 down to 60!"

Emily elicited laughter from everyone, but Spencer was so deep in thought from seeing that dress of yours on the floor of his apartment.

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If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[voidspiraling]

Omg so I was obsessing over Till again ya know. As one do.

And I was analyzing (obsessing) over the baby Till comic when I noticed some thingssss. (This is just my interpretations feel free to disagree)

This frame was fun to look at bc it was just Till doodling and looking cute. But the closer you look…..

Till knew that the flowers were actually cameras!!!maybe that’s why even tho Ivan ripped up the flowers in Till’s presence Till didn’t actually hate it as much. Most IvanTill scenes rarely have these flowers in them and I think after Till grows up we stop seeing the flowers altogether.

Baby is so observant 🥹

Another thing I was obsessing over was the final few frames. In this one my eyes first went to Till because he is contrasted in the picture (blue against white bg and his head being in the center of the comp) and then to Mizi bc she is the biggest element in the picture. But after looking closer you see that Mizi and Sua are both blurry. They are also further away from Till.

But here Ivan and Till are both in focus and they’re right next to each other. I think this shows how despite what Till outwardly says on his subconscious level he feels closer to Ivan. They’re equals. This is also easy to overlook because Ivan is cut off in the picture. He’s like a shadow off to the side. This could be bc Ivan always hides what he feels to everyone and to himself. Or maybe bc he always follows Till around like a shadow lol.

Another thing I wanted to add is when Till turns around. Presumably he’s looking at Mizi (could just be the viewer but lets assume it’s Mizi) but his face is flat he only looks surprised to see her. But aside from the fact that his collar is green we don’t see any other indication that he’s happy. His face isn’t flushed nor is his face expressive like it usually is. I think this is bc his love for Mizi wasn’t in a romantic sense but more in a admiration sense, and his love has cooled down.

Not to sound mean or anything but I remember reading that the reason he fell in love with her is bc of her smile. While that is a sweet notion it feels surface level especially when you compare it to Ivan’s love to Till.

Which would you prefer someone falling in love with your smile vs. someone falling in love with your strength and passion?

I also think that it’s telling that in his R2 song he admits that his feelings were “Error: No better options” Till likely knows that he doesn’t love Mizi but he feels like he should love her bc she is so kind and gentle. She gave him such nice and thoughtful gifts. Even complimented his piercings and treats him kindly even though he’s an outcast.

In his mind he should be madly in love with her. She should be his “savior.”

But inevitably his eyes drift to Ivan.

And I think it’s telling that while Till is looking at Ivan the focal point of the panel is the kids of Anakt garden walking among real trees. It shows that his love for Ivan is similar to freedom and that his love for Ivan is real. It’s like someone feeling relief at finally expressing their love after denying themselves for so long. I think Till tried to force himself to fall in love romantically with Mizi bc he felt too vulnerable around Ivan.

He likes Ivan but he thinks Ivan doesn’t like him so that’s why he tries to fall in love with someone else to get over it. He’s probably afraid of Ivan rejecting him so he projects his love onto Mizi instead. Till doesn’t actually know Mizi all that well so in a way even if she rejects him it won’t hurt that much. And he does feel happier around her and wants to talk to her more. But I think this is more of a friendship thing than a romance thing. Till also wanted to be friends with Sua too but Sua was too obsessed with Mizi to give a damn. That’s why Till feels uncomfortable around her and likely why he gave up talking to her first.

But since Till or any human for that matter were never taught how to love all he can do is try to remove his feelings for Ivan and put them on Mizi. However this isn’t rlly healthy nor does it work out.

After all…

His collar turns green when he listens to Ivan singing. Even though he was injured to the point he passed out, even though he’s bleeding profusely, even though he likely has a major headache. Ivan’s song is comforting to him.

That can only because of love right? Hell after his round even though Mizi was right next to him looking at him he was too injured to even pay her any attention. But here he managed to open his eyes bc it was Ivan singing.

They’re love was always mutual Till was just to shy abt it and tried to run away from it.

;-;

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

Alina Starkov - the most inconsistent main character. A tragedy of not wanting to have an identity.

The main character in Shadow and Bone trilogy, a prime example of "she deserved better". A.k.a. soldier, Sun Summoner, Sun Saint. In reality, a false saint and a false hero, who has less personality, goals, spine and consistency than her three love interests. How did this happen? Short answer - bad writing. Long answer? Here we go.

Her character at the beginning - a blank slate.

Physically small and weak, sickly, fragile, with a sour face and sourer attitude. Grew up in an orphanage funded by a Duke, who they were taught to basically worship while looking down on religion and beliefs in saints. Children in the orphanage were beaten if they misbehaved or didn't do chores, but were given education and fine food, which means they were faring better than peasants and farmers. Alina had not many, but several options in her life. She could learn a trade that would not require physical labour, like sewing. Or, she could marry and hope her husband was gracious enough to buy a donkey instead of making her carry heavy sacks of salt on her back, as we see a random man do to his wife. But Alina had no hobbies, interests, aspirations or ambitions in her life. Except her childhood friend Mal. Mal gets a mandatory draft in the First Army, and of course Alina follows, and settles for being a mediocre cartographer. Mal thrives in the army, showing off muscles and hooking up with women, while Alina dutifully waits for him saints know why. She doesn't have other genuine friends, she doesn't like people, she doesn't like anything. This is not a bad start in a sense that there is much room for growth and improvement.

Refusing to belong

Alina discovers she's a long awaited sun summoner, who can vanquish the Fold and unite Ravka. She doesn't want to be special, but not for the reasons you might think. Instead of fearing the burden of such an important task or genuinely becoming paranoid of being assassinated (she gets over those in five minutes), she just...doesn't want the responsibility of actually being useful for something. She'd rather not have powers at all, and go back to being in a constantly sickly state. She'd rather be tailing Mal like a mouse. Which doesn't make any sense for following reasons:

Alina's insecurities in SaB:

Not being pretty and talented

2. Not being as pretty and talented as Grisha

3. Being an orphan, being unwanted.

Being a Grisha actually solves all those problems for her. She gets prettier and healthier once she stops repressing her powers, has a unique cool power, and a community that cares for her. Plus, the support from important figures in Ravka. In time, she could have a family.

Instead, she refuses to acknowledge she's one of them, doesn't train properly, preferring to cling to her prejudices and make digs at Grisha. She'd rather complain that they're prettier, confident and pampered than acknowledge they are serfs, nothing but glorified servants with no basic human rights. Instead of her superstitions and prejudices being shattered when she starts living with them and realizing what Grisha have to go through, becoming rightfully enraged that her people are being treated this way, she still doesn't feel any empathy. In fact, she still doesn't see the General as a HUMAN BEING WHO MIGHT HAVE FEELINGS, even though he makes time in his busy schedule of running an army to make sure she's comfortable, jokes along with her, listens to her fears and reassures her, etc. Why would he go through the trouble if he was heartless? He's the General of the Second Army, by the King's law, she's his soldier. She is obligated to obey him regardless.

The narrative supports her delusions.

I get missing her friend, I get struggling to adjust, but it's more than that. Alina is getting dragged along from a plot point to a plot point kicking and screaming, as if she has anything better to do. She doesn't have a life, why is she so against of getting one? Once she finally somewhat adjusts to her life in the Little Palace, it turns out Darkling has had malicious intents towards her powers all along! Aha, you were right to be prejudiced, Alina! Now abandon your people, your country, and run!

“He … he said that Darklings are born without souls. That only something truly evil could have created the Shadow Fold.”

Imagine telling a person who saved your life that he was a soulless abomination, even though you do not know him, and he is still kind to you and reveals as much about him as he can. There is no grooming and manipulation here, it's just called not being a bitch. Darkling tells Alina he's over 120 years old, Alina is an adult, and the damned kiss was consensual. Of course he didn't tell her everything. Even regular people don't reveal their life-long ambitions and deepest childhood trauma to their crush after several conversations. It took Alina months to stop being in denial about being a Grisha, still didn't like being one, you're telling me if Darkling set her down and explained the complex political situation and his plan to overthrow the corrupt monarchy and bring an end to the war, Alina wouldn't jump out of the window?

Alina running away, not confronting the problem, and straight up deciding Darkling was evil incarnate with no evidence snowballed into Darkling deciding she couldn't be trusted and taking more drastic measures. Liberation of his people was on the line and one pesky girl screwed up a carefully planned coup because she couldn't handle her feelings.

False badassery

Throughout the whole three books, every time Alina makes a decision, it's immediately followed by self-doubt, shame and scorn. But no actual objective criticism. We often see variations of "It was foolish, but I didn't care", "I knew it was reckless but I couldn't bring myself to care", but never her actually analyzing why, or deciding not to do something like that again. Her small victories are immediately followed by thoughts on how would others feel about it, even though the person in question isn't even there and couldn't give less of a shit: "Never is it to be said that Ana Kuya didn't teach us manners", "A cheap trick, but a good one. Nikolai would be proud". Ana Kuya was an abusive mother figure, Nikolai was using Alina's status to get the throne. Sure, it's good that Alina is capable of learning useful things from every kinds of people, but she doesn't think "That was smart of me. I learnt that. I'm proud of myself for an accomplishment". She thinks "Is it good? Would they like it? They like things like that, right?". She attaches herself to people that fit her view of "deserving" and helps them, even though it might not be for the best. Extreme lack of self-worth, combined with entitlement.

When Alina hears a rumour Darkling ordered his heartrenders to sew a traitor's mouth shut, she's horrified. Even though that's hardly the worst punishment for a traitor in an army. But when some pilgrims insult Genya, she orders to have their tongues cut out after they're given only one warning. When Alina commits violence at slightest provocation, it's baddass. But when Darkling commits a controlled necessary military act to stop enemies from overrunning the country, it's madness and is falsely labeled genocide. Look up the definition, genocide is what was happening to Grisha.

The Darkling never kidnapped children and put them in the war zone. He only lied to Alina that he did, a clever strategy with no bloodshed. Meanwhile, Alina let her cult fight for her, whose members were brainwashed children, some only twelve years old.

When Alina faces a dilemma or a tense military situation, her go-to strategy is suicide. That is not martyrdom, nor it is badass.

Darkling became a bad person out of good intentions and desperation, Alina is just a bad selfish person.

Desperate people are the ones capable of the worst acts. Darkling didn't go nearly as crazy as he could, and frankly had a right to on behalf of his people.

"Aleksander had marched south with the king’s soldiers, and when they’d faced the Shu in the field, he’d unleashed darkness upon their opponents, blinding them where they stood. Ravka’s forces had won the day. But when Yevgeni had offered Aleksander his reward, he had refused the king’s gold. “There are others like me, Grisha, living in hiding. Give me leave to offer them sanctuary here and I will build you an army the likes of which the world has never seen.”

It doesn't matter how much genocide, prejudice, abuse and dehumanization the Grisha suffered through for centuries all around the world, Alina never bothers to look at the big picture. Her help is only for those who she deems worthy of it.

She attaches herself to people who fit her narrow-minded view of "worthy". She immediately believes Baghra's rather flimsy expose of Darkling, even though the old woman has been nothing but unhelpful to her, only insulting her and beating her. But Alina associates her with her only mother figure, Ana Kuya, another old hag she had a toxic relationship with. And even though Baghra is an immensely powerful Grisha who refuses to help or even lift a finger, or just spit out vital information, Alina coddles her and provides protection. Instead of telling her to fess up the useful information and save her unhelpful comments, Alina looks up to her as a mentor.

When Genya tells her story, Alina feels bad for her, but not bad enough to see things her perspective. She only becomes protective of Genya once she gets mutilated, out of pity. If it was genuine compassion, she would've forgiven and understood her from the start.

Every Grisha has been hunted and shamed for merely existing, almost every Grisha has lost a loved one to war. But Alina pointedly ignores it, because she doesn't personally know and care for those people. Therefore, she doesn't feel empathetic. Because if she feels empathetic, she might start feeling guilty about how she runs away from her responsibilities at every given opportunity. Just look at this passage:

“You know what he plans to do, Ivan.” “He plans to bring us peace.” “At what price?” I asked desperately. “You know this is madness.” “Did you know I had two brothers?” Ivan asked abruptly. The familiar smirk was gone from his handsome face. “Of course not. They weren’t born Grisha. They were soldiers, and they both died fighting the King’s wars. So did my father. So did my uncle.” “I’m sorry.” “Yes, everyone is sorry. The King is sorry. The Queen is sorry. I’m sorry. But only the Darkling will do something about it.”

The Darkling never wanted power for selfish reasons. He didn't want to take over other countries or lift Grisha above regular people. He wanted his kind to have basic human rights. Centuries of diplomacy and servitude only gave him enough power to make a school for Grisha children and save adults from slavery and getting slaughtered by serving nobles. He wanted to use the Fold as a border, to stop enemies from invading whenever they pleased, so he would have the time to save Ravka from collapsing. What has Alina done? Started a civil war, destroyed the Second army and helped put a morally dubious man with no claim on the throne to continue an outdated absolute monarchy tradition.

Alina Starkov was meant to be the sun, but turned out to be a trick of the light.

Every time it felt like Alina was emerging from her cocoon as a beautiful butterfly, embracing her true self, she went back to the toxic situationship and the toxic mindset. The narrative also always struck her down. Every book begins and ends with her being sickly, fragile, missing an essential part of herself. It would be good if it was written differently and showed themes of being disabled or having a chronic illness accurately, but it's not. It started out well. Alina was removed from an abusive environment, found a purpose in life, started loving her newfound powers, outgrew the stupid crush who she was way too dependent on, but it all went downhill from there. And then some. This constant vicious cycle does not fit the theme of growth and improvement, and neither does the ending, where Alina loses her powers and goes back to the orphanage. Once again, she's frail and strange, servants (who she now employs) don't respect her, sneer and make fun of her, while her now husband Mal turns a blind eye. Everything is back to the way it was: Mal thrives, Alina is...there. The ending is supposed to be bittersweet, a couple who survived a war building a new life together, but I don't see the sweet part.

Trick of the light - definition: something appearing different from what actually is as a result of the quality of light.

Darkling wanted her to be a strong Grisha, his equal and balance. Grisha wanted her to be a capable leader, Bataar twins wanted a living saint they could worship, Nikolai wanted a wife interested in Ravka and politics. Alina tried to be all of that, but never really wanted to be any of those, so she half-assed it. Mal wanted the version of Alina who was small and insignificant, because anything more made him insecure, and he got his wish.

Illusion, mirage, spectre.

No matter how much the author tries to tell us that Alina's every problem is Darkling's fault, her thought process and actions paint a different picture. Alina was never mentally healthy and she never addressed or resolved her problems. Growing up in a controlled and abusive environment affected her more than anyone, including herself, wants to admit. I am not a licensed psychiatrist, so I will refrain from officially diagnosing Alina, even though she's a fictional character. I am NOT saying I know for certain that Alina has these, if any, mental problems, but she does have some alarming symptoms. It seems like depersonalization. While her symptoms don't fit into one particular mental disorder, I am reminded of psychiatric infantilism, but it is not a mental illness with symptoms. Psychiatric infantilism doesn't necessarily mean the person acts outwardly childishly. To explain very roughly and simply, it means the psych is not as developed as it should be (even if the person is very smart and clever). It shows in avoiding responsibility or not feeling it at all, problems with social connections, not seeing the big picture and taking it seriously, etc. When Harshaw tells the story of his brother getting brutally murdered by people who hate Grisha, even brash Zoya is appalled and expresses her condolences. While all Alina thinks about is that Harshaw might base his hope of having a better life on her now.

Alina also might have Dependent Personality Disorder, but it's hard to say, since we are never shown her being on her own long enough to see whether or not she can take actually care of herself. But her relationship with Mal, Darkling and Baghra (after she no longer objectively needs them) is weird, to say the least.

She never gains the sense of self or an identity, she refuses to become something, then delivers an inner monologue of accepting her fate and five minutes later goes back on her words. Her willingness to sacrifice her life is never out of thinking of the greater good and future, justice, or patriotism. She just doesn't want to live, especially without Mal, who has been doing nothing but shitting on her. Her titles are slapped on her, and she peels them off. Her personality never really changes. Everything she went through feels like a really bad exchange program she was in for a year, and from which she has learnt nothing.

P.S. I don't hate Alina's character, I just mourn her lost potential.

If you have made it to the end, I salute you, congratulations and thank you. 😊 🙏 ❤️

[andy-15-07]

Movie Night Comforts

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 838

Paul Mescal Masterlist

Paul knocked lightly on the door, shifting the bag of snacks in his hand. He had been looking forward to this all week—a quiet movie night with his new girlfriend, Y/N. Their relationship was still fresh, filled with the kind of excitement and nervousness that comes with discovering someone.

Y/N had texted him earlier, saying she wasn’t feeling her best but still wanted him to come over. He didn’t press for details, respecting her space. Now, standing outside her apartment, he couldn’t shake the odd feeling that something might be off.

“Come in!” her voice called, faint and shaky, as he pushed open the door.

The sight that greeted him wasn’t at all what he expected. Y/N was curled up on the couch in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, her cheeks tear-streaked, clutching a pillow to her stomach. Her eyes were puffy, and tissues littered the coffee table. Paul froze, his heart clenching.

“Y/N?” he asked softly, closing the door behind him. He dropped the bag of snacks on the kitchen counter, his focus entirely on her. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, sniffling. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, though the tears streaming down her face suggested otherwise.

Paul crouched in front of her, his hands hovering awkwardly as he debated whether to touch her. He didn’t want to overstep, but seeing her like this was unbearable. “You don’t look fine,” he said gently. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s—” She hesitated, burying her face in the pillow. “It’s my period. I get really emotional and crampy, and everything just feels… ugh.”

Relief washed over Paul, though he immediately scolded himself for it. She wasn’t physically hurt, but clearly, she was struggling. “Oh,” he said, his voice softening even more. “I… I didn’t know it could get this bad.”

“It’s embarrassing,” she muttered. “You probably think I’m a mess.”

Paul frowned, sitting down beside her on the couch. “No, not at all,” he said earnestly. “I just want to help. What do you need? Heat pack? Chocolate? I brought snacks—I think I grabbed some chocolate, actually.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, wiping her tears. “You’re sweet, but you don’t have to—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, gently placing a hand on her knee. “I want to. Tell me what helps.”

She hesitated before admitting, “A hot water bottle would be nice. And… maybe just sitting with me?”

Paul nodded, springing into action. “Hot water bottle, coming right up.”

He disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging around until he found the kettle. Y/N watched him, a small smile creeping onto her face despite the discomfort. He returned a few minutes later, the hot water bottle wrapped in a soft towel.

“Here,” he said, handing it to her. “Anything else?”

“Just you,” she said quietly, her cheeks flushing.

Paul’s heart melted at her vulnerability. He sat down beside her, pulling her gently into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, clutching the hot water bottle against her stomach. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the steady rhythm of his breathing calming her.

“You’re handling this way better than I expected,” she admitted after a while.

Paul chuckled. “Honestly, I was terrified when I walked in. Thought something awful had happened. But if this is what you’re going through, the least I can do is be here.”

“You’re amazing,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head. “You’d do the same for me. Now, how about that movie?”

She shifted slightly, looking up at him. “Can we watch something cheesy and light? I don’t think I can handle anything intense right now.”

“Cheesy and light it is,” he agreed, grabbing the remote. “Rom-com?”

She nodded, snuggling back into him as he scrolled through the options. Eventually, they settled on a classic, the kind of movie that made her smile despite herself.

As the night went on, Paul’s care and attentiveness never wavered. He refilled her water bottle when it cooled, fetched her favorite snacks, and even massaged her shoulders when she winced from the cramps.

By the end of the movie, Y/N was feeling significantly better, thanks to both the heat pack and Paul’s unwavering support. She looked up at him, her heart swelling with gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything.”

Paul smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Always. And next time, you don’t have to feel embarrassed. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Y/N leaned up to kiss him, her lips lingering on his. “You’re one of a kind, Paul Mescal.”

He grinned. “Don’t forget it.”

As they settled back onto the couch, Y/N felt a sense of comfort and security she hadn’t experienced before. Paul wasn’t just her boyfriend—he was quickly becoming her safe haven. And for the first time in a long time, she realized she didn’t have to go through difficult moments alone.

With Paul by her side, she could face anything—even the dreaded time of the month

[luvr444writes]

hii! soo i have a rodrick heffley request! (sorry if it's a bit vague) also id prefer if they're fem-focused but if you wanna do gender neutral that's cool too

rodrick heffley x childhood next door neighbor reader troupe where:

reader has always had a crush on rodrick since they were kids and they used to be close to rodrick, but as they got older rodrick got a bit meaner and they distanced a little bit (still friends at school, just rarely visits)

reader still likes rodrick but he's so infatuated with heather hills that all they can do is hurt on the inside like HURTT like YEOWCH MY HEART type hurt

however, when reader and rodrick's family have a little neighborhood party they start talking more and rodrick starts to see reader as a romance-able option. like, wdym this hottie has been next door the entire time!

so now rodrick starts thinking about them more and getting more nervous around them but rodrick wants heather! right..??

also i'm hoping it has a bit of a dramatic but happy ending, rather than just, "i love you dork!" "hehe i love you too..." mwa mwa mwa

Hii ! I tried my best to write this how you wanted, but again, I am new to writing. If this isn't what you were hoping for, I am so, so sorry! Xx

BACK TO YOU

Rodrick Heffley x Fem!reader

: ̗̀➛ part 2

It was a warm Friday evening, mid-summer, and the Heffley family had decided to throw a small neighborhood party. You stood in your own backyard, glancing over at the bustling scene—colorful lights strung around the trees, laughter mingling with the scent of grilled burgers wafting through the air. Your heart ached at the thought of a certain heffley child, Rodrick Heffley, your childhood friend and long-time crush, socializing with his friends, all while seeming completely enthralled by the fact that Heather Hills was in his backyard and had even spoke to him.

You had known Rodrick for as long as you could remember. The two of you were inseparable as kids, your summers filled with bike rides, silly games, and dreams of becoming rock stars together. But as puberty hit, things began to change. Rodrick started hanging out with a different crowd, often acting like the cool, disinterested boy who had little time for anything other than his music and Heather’s captivating smile. It hurt seeing him shift away from you, but you tried to respect his space, even if it felt like your heart was slowly crumbling into pieces.

The party was in full swing, and you debate whether or notyou should join in. Yes, you had received an invite to the get together, Mrs. Heffley knocking at your front door to do so and to make it known how much she missed having you around the house. However, it seemed awkward. You hadn't spoken to them in a while. Maybe you could just be a quiet observer, sipping lemonade and enjoying the glow of the festivities from a distance.

You glance around the party and caught sight of Rodrick, laughing with his friends, his signature smirk plastered on his face. As pride swells in your chest, a pang of longing follows closely behind.

“Hey, you okay?” Your best friend waves her hand in front of your face, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve been staring at Rodrick for like, ten minutes.”

You shrug, forcing a laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking…”

“About him, right?” She raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “You know he’s been crushing on Heather for ages, right?”

You nod, feeling the familiar sting of jealousy surge through you. “I know. It doesn’t matter. Besides, we’re just friends now.” If even that anymore, you mentally scoff.

But deep down, the truth was hard to ignore. Every interaction you had with Rodrick was laced with an unrequited tension, one that left you feeling both hopeful and hopeless.

--

As the night continued, you finally decide to suck it up, push your nerves aside, and get a plate of food. You stroll towards the grill only to bump into Rodrick himself, carrying burgers and hot dogs, a look of surprise washing over his features. “Oh, hey,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Hey,” you manage, your voice faint.

A pause stretches between you, both of you searching for something to say. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” Rodrick admits, glancing toward the large crowd of people in his yard before focusing back on you. “You’ve kinda been MIA lately.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy. “Just busy with school and stuff, you know?”

Rodrick chuckles, an easy sound. “It’s crazy how fast time flies, huh? We used to hang out every day.”

“I miss those days,” you find yourself saying, surprising both of you. “I miss you.” Why would you say that?, you groan internally.

His expression softens for a split second before he regains his composure, clearing his throat. “Yeah, me too. But hey, did you hear about the new band I’m working on? It’s going to be sick!”

Your heart flutters at the mention of music—the one thing that always connected the two of you. “I didn’t! Is it going well?”

As he launches into an excited explanation about practice sessions and his plans for the band, you can't help but get lost in the way his eyes light up when he talks about his passion. For a moment, all thoughts of Heather vanish from your mind.

Suddenly, Rodrick pauses mid-sentence, regarding you with a contemplative look, looking almost embarrassed. “You, uh, actually want to hear this, right? I'm not boring you?” He asks, recalling just 20 minutes ago when he tried telling Heather Hills the exact same thing, before noticing how uninterested she looked.

“Of course I do!” You reply, genuine enthusiasm spilling from your lips. “You’re talented, Rodrick. I’ve always admired that about you.”

He shifts closer, his demeanor changing from cocky to vulnerable as he studies you with newfound interest. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. I mean, you’re—you’re really cool.”

Your breath hitches, heart racing as he leans in slightly, the air thick with unspoken words. Just then, Heather appears, giggling as she joins Rodrick’s group, flashing him a big, fake, radiant smile. The spell broke, and you felt your heart sink once again.

“Rodrick!” She calls, and you watch as he turns, momentarily captivated by her presence. You step back, heart aching, the tension from moments ago quickly dissipating into thin air.

Heather spares you a quick, bitchy glance, before grabbing Rodrick by the arm and whisking him away from you all over again.

The night wore on, and the party continued, but you found it harder to join in. Instead, you sat on the porch, watching the festivities unfold from a distance. Rodrick stole glances at you throughout the evening, but each time he seemed to hesitate, torn between the allure of Heather and the strange pull you had on him.

Eventually, your best friend found you sitting alone, leaning against the porch railing. “What’s wrong? You’re missing out on all the fun!”

“I don’t know,” you confess, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down. “I just wish things were different.”

“Different how?” she probes, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“Like… I wish Rodrick could see me the way he sees Heather,” you murmur, fresh tears brimming in your eyes, quickly wiping them away in embarrassment.

"Hey," She whispers, voice softer than before. "You're amazing. I mean, like, 100 times better than Heather Hills." She scoffs, "If he can't see that, then he really doesn't deserve you.

You smile, leaning your head on her shoulder and looking out at everyone enjoying themselves.

--

After some time, your friend had left you and you hear footsteps approaching. Lifting your head from looking at your shoes, you seen it was Rodrick, walking toward you with purpose, the party background noise fading into nothingness. You blink, trying to make sense of the expression on his face.

“Hey,” he starts, his voice quieter than usual. “Can we talk?”

“Uh, sure,” you reply, your heart racing.

He leans against the railing beside you, stealing a glance toward the party and then back at you. “I, um… I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” you ask carefully, hoping to mask the tremor of your voice.

“About you,” he admits, his cheeks slightly flushing. “I know I’ve been kind of a jerk and distant, but… I realized something tonight. I’ve been so focused on Heather that I didn’t notice just how much I've missed you and how amazing you are.”

Your heart soars, but the fear of rejection lingers. “Rodrick… you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about her.”

“Yeah, but…” he hesitates, searching your face for understanding. “I don’t want to overlook someone who’s always been there for me. Heather isn't you. You’ve been my neighbor since forever, my best friend, always stood by me... even when I treated you terrible. And tonight, it hit me that I like you… I-I've always liked you.”

The words hung heavy in the air, “You like me?” you repeat, disbelief dancing in your voice.

“Yeah. I do,” he confirms, a shy smile breaking through his earlier doubt. “I just didn’t fully realize it till now.”

For a beat, silence envelopes you, a shared weight in the moment. “So… what does that mean?” you ask, heart pounding.

“Maybe we could start again? Like, forget all the awkwardness and go for ice cream or something?” He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit you found endearing. "Or.. There's this concert Saturday night that I got tickets to. I, uh, was gonna invite a buddy from the band, but I'd, um, I'd rather go with you." He stutters nervously.

You felt giddy, disbelief slowly melting away. “I’d like that,” you whisper, unable to suppress the smile that's spreading across your face.

Rodrick grins, a boyish gleam returning to his eyes as he reaches out, intertwining your fingers. “Great. I'll come get you at, like, 6 o'clock, Saturday..?” 

"Yeah, sounds good." you laugh, cheeks burning bright red and hands starting to clam up with nerves.

As the night continued, you and Rodrick hung out with his friends, cracking jokes in the Heffley's backyard. However, all you could think about was, what on earth were you gonna wear Saturday night?