#( it's not that he's always in control of the situation )

[imastoryteller]

Writing Angry Scenes: Tips to Avoid Melodrama and Make It Real

Anger can be one of the most intense, relatable emotions to read—and one of the trickiest to write. When handled well, an angry scene can pull readers deep into the emotional world of a character, building tension and driving the story forward. But when handled poorly, anger can easily slip into melodrama, making the character’s feelings seem overblown, forced, or even cringe-worthy.

So how can you avoid these pitfalls and write anger that feels real and compelling? Here are some tips to make angry scenes powerful without overdoing it.

1. Understand What Fuels Your Character’s Anger

To write anger authentically, you need to understand its roots. People get angry for complex reasons—fear, frustration, betrayal, grief, and even love. Ask yourself what’s truly driving your character’s anger. Are they afraid of losing control? Do they feel abandoned or misunderstood? Are they hurt by someone they trusted? Anger rarely exists in isolation, so dig into the deeper emotions fueling it.

When you understand the core reasons behind a character’s anger, you can weave those nuances into the scene, making the anger more relatable and layered. Readers will feel the depth of the character's rage, not just the surface heat of it.

2. Show, Don’t Tell—But Don’t Overdo It

“Show, don’t tell” is classic writing advice, but it’s especially crucial in angry scenes. Don’t rely on generic phrases like “She was furious” or “He clenched his fists in anger.” Instead, look for unique ways to convey how this specific character experiences anger. Maybe their voice drops to a deadly calm, or their eyes narrow in a way that makes everyone around them uncomfortable.

That said, showing too much can backfire, especially with exaggerated descriptions. Over-the-top body language, excessive shouting, or too many “flaring nostrils” can tip the scene into melodrama. Use body language and physical cues sparingly and mix them with subtler reactions for a more realistic portrayal.

3. Use Dialogue to Reveal Hidden Layers

People rarely say exactly what they feel, especially when they’re angry. Angry dialogue isn’t just about yelling or throwing out insults; it’s an opportunity to show the character’s deeper thoughts and vulnerabilities.

Consider using controlled, icy responses or unexpected silences. Maybe your character says something hurtful in a low voice rather than screaming. They might express sarcasm, avoidance, or even laugh at the wrong moment. Anger often carries hidden layers, and using these nuances can help your character’s dialogue feel genuine, even haunting, without falling into dramatic clichés.

4. Control the Pacing of the Scene

The pacing of an angry scene can be the difference between a powerful moment and a melodramatic one. In real life, anger doesn’t always erupt instantly; it can simmer, spike, or deflate depending on the situation and the character’s personality. Experiment with different pacing techniques to create tension.

You might build the anger slowly, with small signs that something’s brewing. Or maybe the character explodes suddenly, only to calm down just as quickly, leaving a chill in the air. Controlling the pace helps you control the reader’s emotional engagement, drawing them in without overwhelming them.

5. Avoid Clichéd Expressions and Overused Reactions

When writing anger, avoid falling back on clichés like “seeing red,” “boiling with rage,” or “blood boiling.” These phrases have been overused to the point that they lose their impact. Instead, get creative and think about how your character’s anger might feel specifically to them.

Maybe their skin feels prickly, or their jaw aches from clenching it. Think about details that are unique to the character and to the moment. By focusing on small, unique sensory details, you’ll help readers feel the anger rather than just reading about it.

6. Let the Setting Reflect the Emotion

The setting can be an effective tool to amplify a character’s anger without overstating it. Small details in the environment—such as the hum of a refrigerator, the slow ticking of a clock, or the distant sounds of laughter—can create a sense of contrast or isolation that heightens the character’s rage.

For example, imagine a character seething in a peaceful park or a quiet library. The calm of the surroundings can make their anger feel more potent. Or maybe they’re in a crowded, noisy room where they feel unseen and unheard, which fuels their frustration further. This use of setting can add depth to the scene without the need for dramatic gestures.

7. Let Consequences Speak for Themselves

An effective way to avoid melodrama is to let the consequences of the anger show its intensity. Characters don’t always have to yell or physically react; sometimes, a single choice can convey more than any outburst.

Perhaps your character cuts off a close friend or says something they can’t take back. Maybe they throw away a meaningful object or walk out in silence. By focusing on the consequences of their anger, you can reveal the impact without over-explaining it.

8. Let the Emotion Simmer After the Scene Ends

Anger is rarely resolved in a single moment, and its effects often linger. When writing an angry scene, think about how it will affect your character moving forward. Are they holding onto grudges? Do they feel guilty or exhausted afterward? Does their anger transform into something else, like sadness or regret?

Allowing the anger to simmer in your character’s mind even after the scene ends creates a more authentic and layered portrayal. It shows that anger is complex and doesn’t just disappear the moment the scene is over, adding emotional weight to both the character and the story.

[docdudo]

Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader

You never thought you would be in this situation, running for your life as you try to get to your grandfather's cabin near the entrance of the woods as fast as possible.

Well, that's kind of a lie. You did expect something like this to happen at some point, but why now...??

Your biggest problem has always been the fact that you were a witch, born from the humid earth near a river source and blessed by the nature spirits of the forest.

Which, okay, it wouldn't be a problem...

If you weren't a witch without a Coven.

And you were so young too. Fate really dealt you the worst cards, making you, a small witch, barely in your teen years, fend for yourself without a Coven to protect or guide you.

It was dangerous, madness even. Young witches were easy targets. They didn't really have strong magic yet, couldn't interact with nature spirits that well or defend themselves. That's why they needed the protection of the older witches, who would keep their little ones safely tucked in the heart of the coven, only letting them out when they come of age (for witches), and in small doses until they get used to the world.

You... didn't have that luxery tho.

You have no idea what really happened to you when you were born. Usually, witches from the coven would all be present to a newborn's birth, help them settle and taking them with them as one more little sprout for the Coven.

But, all you had was your grandfather's story, about how he found a baby covered in dirt by the river bank, not crying or making any kind of sound, just peacefully laying there as the forest kept it safe for who know how long.

He knew you were a witch, that much was obvious. He knew you were just born too, but he didn't manage to find any other witch living around that place, much less a whole Coven of them.

So, he took you in, which you were pretty grateful for. You though that it would be fine, i mean... sure, you didn't have a Coven, but who needed them anyway?? You were doing fine by yourself...! Especially after you managed to control a bit more of your magic! Your grandfather told you were very powerful for a baby witch, which is nice! See, you didn't need a Coven...!

Except, being "powerful" for a baby witch wasn't really... that powerful in the first place, and now, you were being freaking hunted down after a mistake you made.

Ah, being hunted down by who? That's simple.

A freaking pack of familiars, four of them to be exact.

There's one little detail about all of this... witches have familiars, powerful creatures that were the most loyal beasts you could ever have for yourself. Usually, a powerful and old witch would never link themselves to a weak familiar, even if they could grow strong with time and a good master guiding them.

And you could imagine the same would happen to the opposite situation... except, familiars were freaking bastards.

One of the reasons older Witches kept their young very well hidden and safe in their Covens is because rogue familiars hunt down little witches to force a bound with them.

While mature witches look for familiars around their same power level, powerful familiars like to take in small and young witches to mold the to their liking. Teach the little witch how to properly use their magic, be their primary guides and protectors.

And you? You were a very young witch, with no Coven on sight, and that showed a very big potential since your magic was stronger than other baby witches your age.

You were a prime target.

And you were being hunted down by four bastards that were toying with you the whole chase.

You could tell they were powerful, just not... how powerful. Since you were still too young, it was quite difficult to identify these things. It's like you could feel the heat of the flame but not see how big the flame was.

But you had a hunch they were... very powerful... at least, that's what you thought, since there were four of them, bounded together. It means their last witch was probably old and strong enough to have four of these big beasts.

Not that your theory matters now, not when you are trying to run in this stupid thick forest from four big familiars that you could hear laughing and taunting you.

Tauting you gently, at most. They already knew they had you.

You already knew they had you.

Still, you were running, even if just because you were high in adrenaline and refused to just stop.

That is, until you fell harshly on the ground after tripping over a rock or some shit hidden on this stupid dense forest.

Goddammit.

"Aww, lassie, c'mere, did it hurt?" You widden your eyes in surprise as you hear the heavy scottish accent right behind you, big hands carefully grabbing under your arms to lift you up on your feet like a kitten.

You squirm momentarily in discomfort, settling down a little as he puts you down and gently pats your clothes. You wish you had more fight in you, but you were still young and just took a nasty fall. It stunned you enough to barely react to the big familiar gently fixing your clothes.

"Oww, baby, it's okay." Another one of them, the dark skinned one with a heart shaped mouth, approached easily, both warm hands immediatly cupping your face to check on you. "We're sorry for making you play until you got hurt, we're not doing it again...." He coos gently, a warm smile on his face.

He looked... so happy......... freak, the scottish-mohawk guy by his side looked ecstatic, such a big smile on his face.

Well.... familiars always prefered to be linked to a witch.

You jumped a bit as you heard the rustling of leaves in the distance, eyes falling immediatly on the big black wolf behind some trees. That's certainly one big bastard of a familiar, even in his animal form...

Wait... where is the last one then...?

"Darlin', we need to talk, don't we?"

You freeze for complete as you feel a heavy, warm hand hold the back of your neck, not hurting, not ever, just... locking you in place. His voice is low and gruff, authoritarian, but it's... soft enough. Enough for you to know that he's forcing softness to speak to you.

His hand feels so damn big around your small neck...

It's okay, it's okay... familiars rarely ever hurt a witch for no reason.

Besides, they don't seen that inclined on hurting you anyway... no, you know they are ready to claim you for them.

The mess you found yourself in...

"T-Talk...?" You murmur quietly, unsure, still a bit stunned as you try to look over your shoulder.

"Wee lass just took a fall, Price, little witch like this might've gotten hurt." The scottish one says easily, smile still on his face as he approaches you a bit more to gently hold on your head, inspecting you himself now.

"She's just a tad stunned, no harm done." This voice was new, and very low. Gravelly. Patient.

The wolf familiar went back to his human form, leaned against a tree as he observed you with crossed arms and a relaxed posture. Indeed, a big bastard.

"That's why we shouldn't play with the young ones like this. I told you that they get hurt easily." The dark skinned one sighs slightly, like he was scolding the big brute by the trees.

"Boys, focus. We are not yet marked to her, and she's out here, exposed and defenseless. We're taking her home." The 'Price' guy says slowly, his authority over the others obvious by how they all straightened at his command.

"W-Wait-" You manage to find your voice once again, only to be interrupted by the scottish guy.

"The Coven?"

"If she had one, wouldn't be wandering around 'ere by 'erself." The wolf one rumbles, still relaxed against the trees.

"A baby witch without a Coven?" The dark skinned one considers, eyes narrowing.

"Sometimes it happens. Rare, but it can happen. All the more reason to get her to safety." Price rumbles back, voice getting... grow-ly, the hand on your neck heavier. "Soap."

"Aye, Cap." He smiles easily, bending down closer to your height, meeting your big, scared eyes. "Let's go, wee lassie, ye're safe." He coos, and before you can protest, one of his fingers are touching your forehead, a wave of pure magic going through you. "Nap nap time, huh?"

And just like that, you are loosing your consciousness, falling directly on his arms as you feel him picking you up easily before falling asleep.

[kawareo]

Non-Durge Strike would've been a far worse person than he is as Durge, fun fact

Non-Bhaalspawn Strike is a child of a drow and a cambien who was found by his adoptive mothers back in their pirate days, before they settled down. He's a magical prodigy that grows up in a loving home that actively encourages him in pursuing the study of magic. He's an extremely talented sorcerer and he knows it, and without Bhaal who would keep his ego in check by being an abusive father, Strike becomes just kind of the worst?

No Bhaal means that doing good (non-murder) things isn't taboo or a novelty anymore, so they're boring now. He has no god to serve so there is noone he would feel inferior to, which means that all his ambition now goes unchecked and he ends up wanting to be a god himself. He's a sociopath in any au, here that just means less murder and more selfishness. He's still charming and manipulative but now lacks the background of a sheltered, abused child, so boy does it get worse.

In game time: There is no memory loss and no physical trauma, meaning that Strike doesn't have to rely on his companions for survival and support for his crippling mental health; he's sane, perfectly self aware and in perfect control of himself. Because of that he just manipulates mansplains manwhores his way to be in charge of the team and never establishes a strong bond with anyone there. Him and Gale know eachother from when they were studying in Waterdeep and Strike always looked down on Gale for needing to rely on Mystra for his spells. He would very much encourage Gale to explode himself and in the end succeed.

He gets Astarion to ascend. Why? Cause he wants to see how the ritual works, nothing else. Demonic magic would be really interesting to him. He'd then break up with Astarion and laugh in his face at the idea of becoming bonded to him for life - they leave off on bitter terms. They do save Aylin but only because Strike wants to see a demigod in action; later he helps her kill Lorroakan but also steals the wand that could seal Aylin forever, just in case if he ever needs a convenient immortality on hand.

When he meets Gortash they vibe so hard with eachother that Karlach punches Strike in the face for being such an awful dick about it, but he manipulates his way out of the situation. He does like Gortash but at the same time pities him because he thinks it's pathetic to serve a god like that.

In the end, he gets the crown of Karsus for himself and manages to override it back into its true purpose, and the gang would have to fight him to try and stop him. Upon their failure, he'd become the next Karsus.

So yeah, all in all? Bhaal surprisingly helps him be a way better person lmao

[hhughes]

៹࣪ ៸៸ HOME TO YOU . . . ꒱꒱

𐙚 fic ; in which quinn comes home to you after a long road trip

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. quinn hughes x gf!reader 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff and domesticity. smut. mdni. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. as always reblogs and feedback is appreciated and I hope you liked it <3

Quinn steps through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his bags at the door with a thud and removing his shoes. He knows you’re going to scold him for leaving his stuff there but right now he can’t find it in himself to care if it means he gets to see you a little sooner. He lets out a big sigh as exhaustion settles into his bones. It’s the type of exhaustion that no matter the amount of sleep he got on the plane, won’t be sated until he gets into his own bed, with you.

He makes his way into the living room, where he finds you curled up on the couch with some movie softly playing in the background. His lips curl up when he hears soft snores from you, indicating you were asleep. He always tells you to go to bed but you never listen, always opting to wait up for him instead and he couldn’t be happier that you did because although he has to wake you up, it means he doesn’t have to wait a minute longer to see you.

“sweetheart,” he whispers softly, gently brushing some hair away from your face as your eyes flutter open.

“quinn…You’re home?” you ask groggily, a little disoriented and he takes a seat next to you as you sit up, pulling you into his side.

“I’m home baby,” he confirms, kissing your temple.

Both of you sit there for a few minutes, not saying anything, simply enjoying being in one another’s company for the first time in a few days.

“I put your towel in the drier, so it’s warm when you get out of the shower. I washed the sheets so the bed needs to be made, so I’m gonna do that while you take a shower and I’ll meet you in bed?” you ask and quinn’s heart grows twice the size with pure love for you.

You put his towel in the drier so it would be extra warm. You washed the sheets because you know he likes the feeling of clean sheets after a long road trip. He knows by the faint smell of ginger in the air, there’s a container of freshly baked cookies waiting for him on the kitchen counter, just like there is every time he comes home. Just like he knows you’ll be up before him tomorrow, while he sleeps in. Making him breakfast, and throwing his laundry in the wash so that he doesn’t have to worry about it.

“I’ll be quick,” he assures you, his voice a bit thick by his sudden overwhelming thoughts of love for you.

-

After his shower quinn joins you in bed, pulling you close. You turn around to look up at him, running your hands over his cheek and pulling him closer to attach your lips. A few kisses later, quinn is sitting up against the headboard, your legs on either side of his hips as you straddle him.

“I missed you,” quinn groans, head falling back as his hands squeezing your ass, pressing your clothed cores together.

“I missed you more,” you mumble against his neck, where your kisses had already begun leaving marks on his pale skin.

quinn puts both hands on your waist, lifting you up to stand on your knees as he pulls down your shorts. You help him by removing your shirt, kicking your pants off the bed and his eyes naturally fall to your breasts, buds hardening in the cold. He wraps both arms around you and pulls you closer, his face level with your chest, pressing kisses there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs

“quinn, please. I’ve already waited long enough, please don’t make me wait any longer,” you whine and he grins up at you. Both of you aware who’s really controlling the situation despite you hovering above him.

“You’re always so desperate baby, huh? Is that what being away from me does to you? Turns you into a needy little slut?” he asks, tongue circling your nipple, his hand playing with the other one.

“Please” is your only response and quinn gives in, pushing you back a bit to remove his boxers, his only article of clothing and pulling you closer again, his hand wrapped around his dick, lining it up with your entrance.

“Only cause you asked so nicely,” he says, gripping your hips tightly as you sink down onto him. There was nothing like those first few seconds of being inside you. quinn was convinced nothing would ever compare. He wondered if lifting the Stanley Cup would bring him as much euphoria as you.

Your hands grip the headboard behind his head, causing you to bend forward, practically shoving your breasts in his face, not that he was complaining. The change in angle causing both of you to moan when he enters you again.

“Fuck baby, you always feel so good,” he groans against your skin, his hand trailing between your legs and thumb lazily rubbing circles across your clit.

“quinn,” you moan, your hands moving from the headboard to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, leaving marks behind, just how he likes it. Your hips still, legs getting tired and unable to do much else but feel pleasure as quinn continues to rub your clit.

“That’s not nice baby, I just got home from a four game road trip and you’re making me do all the work,” he says, grabbing a fist full of your hair and pulling it, causing you to arch your back. His other hand lands on your ass with an audible smack when you don’t answer.

“Can’t even be bothered to answer? Too cockdrunk to even think aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks, not giving you time to try and formulate a response before both his hands slide to your hips, lifting you up and down in time with his thrusts. You can’t do anything but take it, like a little toy for him to use. The thought sends you over the edge, causing you to clench around him and he finishes inside you.

You both sit there for a few minutes, quinn still inside you. Just being close and savoring the moment waiting for your heart rates to go down.

“I love you,” he says softly, kissing you gently.

“I love you too. Welcome home.” you whisper, kissing his chest and tucking your face in his neck while his hands rub up and down your back.

He hates going on long roadies, but he loves coming home. Warm towels. Cookies. Fresh sheets. And you.

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴜ ɴ ᴛ ɪ ʟ ᴅ ᴇ ᴀ ᴛ ʜ ᴅ ᴏ ᴜ ꜱ ᴀ ᴘ ᴀ ʀ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Show Aemond Targaryen x Fem Reader

Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?

˚꒰notes꒱‧ English is not my first language. Gifs belong to @barbieaemond. Hope you enjoy!

Aemond’s obsession with you is intense yet restrained. He’s not the type to openly declare his feelings or show affection through words or flowery gestures. Instead, he watches you, studies you, absorbs every detail—like he’s trying to memorize you. Your smallest gestures, the sound of your laughter, even the way your eyes shift when you’re uncomfortable—all of it becomes ingrained in his mind. You’re his fixation, his secret treasure, the one thing he allows himself to crave.

At first, his presence is barely noticeable. He’s there, quietly lingering in the background, watching you in ways that feel both protective and invasive. But as time passes, you realize he’s always there, always watching.

“You have no idea, do you?” he’d murmur one night, his eyes holding an unsettling intensity. “How long I’ve waited, how much I’d sacrifice just to keep you close.”

Aemond’s possessiveness doesn’t manifest in obvious ways. He doesn’t need to announce that you’re his—he knows it, and in his mind, so should you. The way he stands close to you, how he always seems to position himself between you and others, the subtle but possessive hand he places on the small of your back—all are quiet signs of his control.

When others try to get too close to you, his gaze alone is enough to send them away. Aemond doesn’t tolerate competition; to him, you’re his, and he’ll ensure that no one ever doubts it. He won’t raise his voice or cause a scene like his brother—his icy stare and that ever-present hand on his sword are all he needs to convey his message.

“You belong to me,” he’d say in that low, measured tone, his fingers tracing a slow line down your arm. “Do not let them forget that.”

Aemond knows everything about you—your daily habits, your secrets, your fears. He’s intelligent, calculating, and patient, and he uses those skills to orchestrate situations that keep you close to him. He knows who you speak to, where you go, and even your thoughts before you voice them. He’ll play on your fears, your desires, using them to his advantage, always pushing you closer into his web.

He won’t openly restrict you. Instead, he’ll manipulate circumstances so that you have no choice but to turn to him. When you need comfort, he’s there; when you feel threatened, he’s there, his hand on his sword, ready to protect. In his mind, he’s the only one who can understand you, the only one who’s truly worthy of you.

“You see how they look at you, don’t you?” he’d whisper, his tone almost affectionate, a hint of jealousy darkening his gaze. “They don’t deserve to even stand in your shadow.”

Aemond’s jealousy is quiet, subtle, but no less dangerous. He seethes when others try to approach you, though he keeps his composure, his expression unreadable. But if anyone dares get too close, Aemond’s revenge is swift and ruthless. He’ll ruin reputations, destroy alliances—he’ll make them pay in ways that leave no question about his power. His jealousy isn’t petty; it’s all-consuming, a cold, lethal fire.

If he catches you in conversation with another man, he’ll silently insert himself into the situation, his icy gaze boring into them, making it clear that you’re untouchable. He won’t show his rage outwardly, but the consequences will be devastating. And if anyone dares to harm you or threaten your relationship? His retribution will be terrifyingly swift.

“Let them try,” he’d murmur, his fingers running possessively through your hair. “They’ll regret ever thinking they could touch what’s mine.”

Aemond struggles with vulnerability, his past leaving scars he can’t hide. His emotions are buried deep, guarded by layers of pride, shame, and bitterness. But with you, his intensity surfaces in ways even he can’t fully control. You’re the one thing that breaks through his walls, and he both hates and craves that vulnerability. He’ll never openly admit his love, but it shows in the way he’s constantly there, always silently protecting, always watching.

And when he’s alone with you, he lets that restraint slip. He holds you as if you’re a lifeline, a fragile thing he could lose at any moment. His touch is both possessive and desperate, a reminder that you’re the one thing in his life he can’t stand to lose.

“You’re the only one I need,” he’d confess in a rare moment of vulnerability, his voice almost breaking. “The only one who matters.”

He believes the world is a dangerous place, full of enemies who’d harm you, and he’s determined to be your shield. He’ll demand that you stay close to him, questioning your every move if it takes you out of his sight. He’ll use his power to keep you safe, even if it means isolating you from everyone else.

If you try to resist, he won’t argue or raise his voice. Instead, he’ll find subtle ways to manipulate the situation so that you have no choice but to obey. And in his mind, it’s all justified—it’s all to keep you safe.

“Stay close to me,” he’d command softly, his hand tightening around yours. “The world is full of threats, and I’ll be damned if I let any of them touch you.”

He’s possessive to the point of madness, convinced that you’re the only person who understands him, the only one who sees him for who he truly is. And if he ever feels like he’s losing you, his obsession will consume him, driving him to desperate, dangerous lengths.

He won’t hesitate to use every resource at his disposal to ensure you remain his, even if it means trapping you in a world where he’s your only companion.

“If you ever leave, there’ll be no place you can hide,” he’d say, his voice low, his gaze dark and unwavering. “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure it stays that way.”

Aemond’s love isn’t gentle or kind; it’s fierce, unyielding, and impossible to escape. Once he’s set his sights on you, there’s no freedom, no escape. His love is a trap, one that tightens around you until you realize there’s no way out. But in Aemond’s mind, it’s a love like no other—a love that binds you together, that defies the bounds of mortality itself

In Aemond’s world, love is something that consumes, devours. Once he’s claimed you, there’s no escape—only him, and the unbreakable bond he’s forced upon you.

“Even death wouldn’t stop me from finding you,” he’d murmur, his lips brushing over your forehead, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “No one else could ever love you like I do. Remember that.”

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[piastrisun]

unexpected confession.

pairings: lando norris + fem reader.

summary: as the elevator stalls, so does your composure. lando’s sudden, earnest words turn the trapped moment into a delicate dance between panic and possibility.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 1k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: lando’s birthday!!! a bit short but i hope y’all like it. <3 no use of y/n or any names at all.

you and lando are standing in the elevator, the air uncomfortably still, and the space around you both feels too small. the elevator’s hum seems louder now, echoing in the confined space. the flickering light above does little to calm the rising tension between you two, as your body instinctively shifts to press against the corner.

you’ve never thought much about how close you are to each other—how every small movement feels amplified in this moment. it's as if your very proximity makes the silence heavier. your mind races, trying to distract itself from the fact that you're alone in an elevator, stuck for what feels like forever. it should be mundane, but with lando here, everything suddenly feels too intense.

and then, he breaks the stillness, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to shake you out of your thoughts. "i don’t want to die without telling you this."

your heart skips a beat, and a chill runs down your spine. the sudden panic floods you, and you whip your head to face him, your eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. “what?! what are you talking about? are we—are we dying?”

his face goes pale as he stammers, looking more flustered than you've ever seen him. his hands hover over the elevator buttons as though he can fix the situation with the press of a few keys. “no! no, of course not… well, i mean, i don’t think so. but listen, it’s important.” he avoids your gaze, the nervous energy practically crackling between you.

you let out a shaky, almost panicked laugh, trying to control the rapid beat of your heart. “lando, this is not the time for dramatic confessions! you’re freaking me out!”

he shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the elevator. you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together, his body stiff with the weight of whatever he's about to say. “i love you. i always have. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner.”

you freeze, your body going rigid. the words land with such weight that you can’t process them fast enough. your jaw falls open, and your mouth feels dry as you blink a few times, as if trying to clear the fog in your brain. "wait, what? you love me? you’ve… always loved me?" you can’t quite wrap your mind around it, your voice coming out in a whisper, disbelief taking over. your hands tremble, and your heart is pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. "are you—are you serious right now? do you think we’re going to die in this elevator?"

“no! no, i don’t think we’re dying! i mean, not right now.” lando sighs dramatically, dropping his shoulders in exasperation as he leans back against the elevator wall, seemingly giving up on fixing anything. “but… look, i just needed to say it, okay? i didn’t want to leave with it unsaid. so, if we do die, well… at least you know.”

his words hang in the air like a strange confession, one that doesn't quite make sense given the circumstances. but even then, a knot of warmth stirs in your chest, a strange mix of emotions you’re not ready to confront.

you step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest as if trying to shield yourself from what’s happening. you narrow your eyes at him, your lips curling into a teasing frown. “so, this is your plan? we get stuck in an elevator for five minutes and suddenly you’ve decided to unload your feelings?”

he groans, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. he slumps against the wall, letting out a breath like he's trying to deflate from the awkwardness. “this wasn’t exactly the moment i planned, okay? but i’ve been holding it in for years, and if you do kill me with that glare, at least i’ll go knowing i said it.”

you bite back a smile, your eyes narrowing in mock judgment. you raise an eyebrow as you lean toward him. “glare? i’m just trying to process this. you’ve have fancied me all this time, and you never said anything?”

his shoulders tense, and he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as if searching for some way to escape. “i wasn’t sure if you felt the same. i thought maybe you’d think i was, i don’t know, creepy or something.” his voice cracks slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping him. he looks down at his shoes, his embarrassment clear. “but now here we are. stuck in this tiny box together, one awkward cough away from the end of our lives…”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound light and a little shaky as you step forward, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “well, lucky for you, i don’t think you’re creepy. and maybe… just maybe… i’ve had a few feelings too.”

his eyes widen, his mouth slightly agape, disbelief written all over his face. his voice falters for a moment, but it’s full of hope. “wait, what?!”

you laugh softly, the playful edge to your voice not masking the sudden warmth in your chest. "you think i’m just going to throw myself at you after you drop that bomb? i’m not that easy, lando."

his eyes light up, his expression shifting from surprise to sheer delight. he takes a step closer, his grin impossibly wide as he leans in, his voice filled with teasing excitement. “oh, really? because if we do get stuck here a little longer, i can think of a few ways to pass the time…” his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, mischievous and full of playful challenge.

you roll your eyes dramatically, trying to maintain some semblance of control over your emotions, but the smile you can’t hide betrays you. "you’re unbelievable."

lando shrugs, his grin growing even wider as he leans back, arms crossing in mock defense. his eyes dance with a mix of humor and genuine affection. "i do try."

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[redflowersociety]

Reacting to you getting hit on - Mouthwashing HC

Includes all characters. Pretense of you being their partner (excluding Swansea, though he is included).

Jimmy

He is beyond pissed off. Both at the person hitting on you for coming anywhere near what’s supposed to be his, and at you (as if it’s your fault for being perceived). He curses the person out, making it clear to them and everybody around that you’re HIS partner. He makes a show of it in front of this stranger to repair his ego after the event. He’s the type of guy to drag you away, and forcefully make out with you within eyeshot of the person. He made a point to push all the right buttons to get you melting into his touch and meeting all his demands. He knows how to get you subservient, and that fact reassures him of his control.

After this, though? Expect him to be extra insecure for the following days. He’s completely convinced that you’d try to wriggle out of his grasp given the chance, and he just couldn’t let that happen. So he doesn’t let you go out the house without him, and when you both *are* out, he’s always got a hand on you, never allowing you out of his grasp. He needs both you, and everyone around to know that you already belong to somebody: him.

Curly

Curly trusts you. For him to settle with you, he must have a connection strong enough to reassure him that he won’t be used for his kindness, so of course he trusts you. He watches as you gently turn down the stranger, standing by but never once moving his gaze off of you two (mostly you). If he notices the stranger doesn’t take the first no, he steps in. He doesn’t mean to make you feel like a damsel in distress in need of saving, but he can’t bring himself to stand by and watch you get harassed. He promised to himself he wouldn’t stand by instead of protecting those he cares for, so he won’t.

Overall, it doesn’t stick with him in a negative way. Instead, your handling of the situation reassures him that he’s your only interest.

Post Crash

Although he has the same mentality as pre-crash Curly, there is an extra piece: He is horribly insecure of his appearance, and all that it represents. He shared to you the events that transpired on the Tulpar as a way of holding himself accountable. Every moment that passes, the guilt and hatred of his body plants seeds of doubt into his mind: Anybody is more attractive and could provide for you better than him. His past with Jimmy doesn’t help these feeling either.

So, it’s safe to say that the situation sticks with him. It makes it harder for him to accept reassurance. It takes a long time, and a LOT of reassurance for him to move on from it.

Daisuke

Daisuke is completely trusting of your love for him, but not of his own abilities or accomplishments. So, when he sees a guy with expensive jewelry or a well-kept appearance trying to get your number, it stings his heart. It’s not jealousy, as he knows that he’s the only one you want: it’s shame. He feels shameful that he can’t the perfect guy for somebody so perfect (you).

It’s not hard to notice that he’s feeling down when you hurry towards him after the interaction. You pull him somewhere a bit more private and cup his squishy cheeks, asking him what’s got him so upset. He hesitates for a moment, but soon leaves his emotions in your hands with the tears in his eyes that he just can’t manage to keep back.

He’d spill his guts to you about his worries, how he feels inadequate. You would have expected this, seeing how hard he tries to impress Swansea for approval. With a whole heap of kisses all over his face and neck, and soft spoken reassurance and words of encouragement, he’ll be back on his feet in no time.

Anya

Anya struggles to accept that others may see her for more than her body. So when she sees a woman with a more conventionally attractive body or face than her own hitting on you… she can’t help but feel a twinge of fear. Watching you reject the stranger kindly, however, reassured her again: she knew you weren’t that kind of person. You were never that shallow.

If a man happens to approach you, and won’t leave you alone, Anya pretends to be your sister or something similar to try to drive the man away. Safety in numbers, as they say. She’ll pull you away, and when times get desperate, it’ll be the first time you found out Anya never leaves her home without pepper spray!

Generally speaking, seeing you hit on doesn’t make her jealous or anything! She just wants you happy, letting your actions do the job at reminding her why she decided to give her heart to you.

Swansea

Who you share time with isn’t Swansea’s concern, he’s not your dad (or at least that’s what he tells himself)! But, if he did catch a glimpse of somebody making you uncomfortable…? Yeah, he’s stepping in and intimidating the shit out of the other person. Like hell he’d let some creep treat you that way when there’s something he can do about it!

If he caught you flirting back with someone, knowing you’ve got a partner… he’d definately be dissapointed.

Unless your partner was Jimmy. If it’s Jimmy, he’s hoping this stranger plays their cards right.

[lorithescrump]

Hell yeah get ready for the info-dump of the ages, folks!

Cadaver Backstory Dump Let’s Go

Cadaver absolutely misses his adoptive family. This retired ranger and his wife adopted and raised this freak of nature left on their doorstep one night as their own son with unconditional love and support (something Cadaver doesn’t come by easily) and Cadaver will always despise himself for destroying that. He especially grieves his mother.

Cadaver was a very angry and impulsive child around the time his Dark Urges started to manifest, constantly getting into fights with the local children and even adults on occasion. He kept quiet about this when he’d come home to his family, keeping it a secret refusing to elaborate on how he got those scratches and bruises.

If they did take on any jobs it was orders from Bhaal. Cadaver was something of an assassin for Bhaal, but there were times when he would “hunt for sport” going after recluses and other civilians living in the wilderness surrounding Baldur's Gate who wouldn’t be missed. He became something of a "monster in the woods" scary campfire story/legend because of this.

Cadaver tends to speak in a stoic matter for the most part, being taught to be imposing and charming to demand respect and control, but when he is more on the casual side he uses profanity regularly and is a bit of a lovable douchebag. His charisma is his highest stat and his intelligence is his lowest followed by his wisdom and he’s one part chaotic good other part lawful evil so do with that information what you will.

Sceleritas job boiled down to three main demands: Keep him alive, keep him in line, and assist him when demanded. Cadaver had a very short temper and patience with Sceleritas (he did with just about anyone) believing him to be babying him and shit at his job but a part of Cadaver knew he'd get himself killed if it wasn't for hs butler.

Cadaver lives by the motto “loot everything” so he absolutely inherited some money hunger, pocketing all of the riches he'd loot off his sacrifices. He likely rolled his eyes at any merely extravagant gifts or offers but hey, it’s odd to look a gift horse in the mouth, right?

Not that I can think of or come up with off the top of my head, no.

The two treated each other like really shitty siblings, taking out their Dark Urges on one another. Orin loved getting on Cadaver’s nerves to get a reaction out of him and get a reaction she did with Cadaver going so far as to nearly strangle her to death (backstory of the scar on his mug). Orin loved tormenting and taunting her elder brother and Cadaver hated his infant sister sine her birth when he was a teenager.

Cadaver and Gortash sticking by and backing each other up in just about any conversation and Orin being her chaotic unpredictable self irritating Ketherick and Cadaver who are equally as desperate to get her to stfu so they can deal with the situation at hand.

Cadaver and Gortash actually met briefly in their late teens, becoming good friends after Cadaver accidentally saved his life (I like to think the reason Gortash was so fond of Karlach was because she reminded him of the other beefy Zariel Tiefling who fought for him and saved his skin as a boy). Later on upon being reunited in their adult years Gortash admired Cadaver’s drive and hunger for power and control and how far he was willing to go to achieve his goals and ambitions.

Cadaver was absolutely addicted to the praise and attention and was constantly drunk on the amount of power and influence he had over his fellow Bhaalists. He never acknowledged any of the cultists as people however, just things to exploit, fill up space, and live as proof of his worthiness of his father’s praise and attention. He was honored as more of a murderous emperor or feared gladiator rather than a celebrity among the cultists.

Having spent his boyhood raised by a loving lower class household and being shown love and sympathy from them has given Cadaver a subconscious sense of sympathy and pity for the needy.  During his years as a Bhaalist Cadaver would shame and scold himself for even considering showing mercy to the worthless and desperate, but he did have the occasional moment of weakness and sympathy. He claimed it was a one time thing, but this brief encounter would stick with him long after in the corners of his mind.

His beloved ranger companion, Lupus, served as his guard dog as well as his battle buddy and comrade. Any attempt at getting so much as a drop of blood from Cadaver would result in some wolf fangs to the neck (or crotch if you’re really unlucky).

A bit of both. Any targets assigned to him directly would be handled with some kind of tactical approach while any hits assigned by himself were absolutely impulsive and on a whim, being out for nothing but blood and whatever's left on the corpse.

As a child Cadaver was definitely mocked and made fun of for his appearance, looking too much like a human for a tiefling and vice verca. He did have an act of rebellion as a teenager when he got a rose tatted on his neck as a way to modify his “hideous and unnatural” appearance into something more presentable. In his adulthood he has grown to appreciate and honor his own body, showing it off and viewing as a weapon and a symbol of his endurance and strength. Bud lives by the barbarian “tits out guns out” philosophy.

As I am procrastinating and crafting backstories all in one go, I shall share a sheet of questions with you to share or answer yourself.

Past Life Dark Urge Asks - 1st Edition:

Do they miss their adoptive family? Why or why not?

Did they keep anything from their old family and home? A memento or a skill perhaps?

When Sceleritas fetched them from their comfortable home, what did they do on their journeys? Did they take on any jobs?

Do they speak casually or do they try to adorn their speech with frills? Do they maybe even dare to curse?

What was their relationship with Sceleritas like? Did they like their ever-adoring butler or did they try to run from the most wretched mother hen?

Bhaal loves money; did your Durge inherit that trait? Do they enjoy luxuries or try to live a frugal life, giving their all for their temple?

Did they have any connections or companions outside of the local underworld? If so, what were those connections like and if not, why?

What was their relationship with Orin like? Did it change at some point?

What would a typical meeting of the chosen have looked like when your Durge attended?

Gortash seemed to have admired Durge, what did they do to deserve this admiration? Did they have any notable personality traits or did they impress him in some other way?

The other cultists. How did your Durge view them? Did they enjoy their following or did they dread being idolised?

Durge gave a gold coin to a beggar once; why did they do it? Did this occur regularly?

Orin has her faithful group of changelings. Did your Durge have a similar 'personal guard' or task force at their back and call?

Durge famously acted as an assassin in the last decade or so. What was that like? Did they plan everything out meticulously, or did they act spontaneously and on whims?

Bhaal handcrafted Durge. Do they enjoy and worship their appearance, or did they have a rebellious phase, trying their best to change their Lord Father's grand design?

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 20

satoru gojo x f!reader x suguru geto

plot: moving to the city from a small town was no easy feat, especially to start teaching as a jujutsu sorcerer.

a/n: part 2, aka the continuation is now in process. warning for newcomers: this is a yandere story with dark (non-con, violence) themes. read on with caution. this story does not romanticise either concept.

masterlist • ao3 • chapter directory • < previous chapter • next chapter >

20. Promise

[3 months later]

You have never been one for goodbyes, but life as it had turned out, had already forced you to do so not once, but twice already.

The first time was voluntary; when you had left your sleepy hometown and the long-haunting corrupt influence far behind. It seemed like such a good decision back then, when you at long last, had obtained that prized referral to work at one of the country’s most prestigious Jujutsu institutions. It almost seemed too good to be true, and maybe that’s because it was, because, just like everything else in your life—all of the highs had to come down—inviting the lows to linger, to fester, to… rot.

The second time wasn’t by your own choice, however, but something far, far worse. If you were being honest, you couldn’t have made sense of your situation if you tried. Forced to flee from Tokyo following an obsession that went too far, the ever-lasting consequences of summer had consumed your life to the point where you were once again left a victim of an unrequited influence out of your control.

You’ve had plenty of time to think about just how exactly it all went wrong, too, and just for a while, you were happy to appoint the self-blame. In a twisted sense, you believed that it was your fault for trying to naively infiltrate a jaded world with such fresh hope. Maybe it was wrong of you to have dreamt of a better life; maybe you should never have tried with Jujutsu to begin with. Perhaps you should have taught the ordinary future generations of today because, it wasn’t like they didn’t matter, too. They were more responsible for future cursed energy than they even knew.

…But then again, how were you supposed to know that you were going to be so entangled between… them?

It wasn’t as though you set out to ruin your own life, after all. It was out of your control from the very second you let your guard down—from the moment that you placed your trust in the two people you shouldn’t have. That couldn’t have been on you, though. Surely not.

You did suppose, however, that in some sort of twisted sense, that your return to the city (albeit against your will) could have been considered a reunion of sorts when you were met with those chilling blue eyes once more. What was once a calm blue sea guiding the way now turned out to be a violent storm—its waves dragging you into the murky depths, anchoring you within it—but not quite letting you drown, at least not yet. You instead were trapped. Imprisoned in a floating limbo, forced to endure whatever… this… all was. It was humiliating, perhaps even insulting and you berated yourself mentally every single passing day for not fighting back against Satoru fucking Gojo when he confronted you back in Osaka, but then again, that same pressing question begged your rationality once more; how exactly were you ever supposed to go against someone like him to begin with?

Someone like him, who had the entire world of Jujutsu wrapped right around his finger.

As bleak as it all sounded, as harsh as the reality reigned true; you never had a chance to begin with, did you? Whether you ran away or stayed behind—it would have likely gone this way, because… after a summer of getting to know him, you of all people knew the truth (from learning it the hard way), that Satoru Gojo always got what he wanted.

You sighed as your eyes rolled back to glare at the fluorescent-lit ceiling, the pale flickering glow straining against your eyes. It was almost comedic with how dramatically it all came undone, like it was some sort of sick joke and you were the unsuspecting punchline right at the very end. Tokyo was supposed to be your fresh start away from the monotonous flow of small-town politics and its corrupt influence, so why on earth did it follow you here, too? You did everything right, after all, you studied hard and you persevered, you earned your place in the world, and just as it all finally began to fall into place… it unraveled. It was truly as though the string that you delicately wove through the passage of life was on its last thread, destined to snap from the moment it all connected.

(There was never a chance. There was always something in the way.)

You sat up, trying to avoid the light only to catch a flash of it reflected in the sleek black tiled floors. Closing your eyes in frustration, you tried to think back to the good times. You did suppose that the city was technically everything you had otherwise fantasised it to be; loud, noisy, and bustling with endless life. It was a far cry from the watchful and prying eyes of your quaint town. There was something… special about Tokyo because you were able to simply just… disappear, as one fleeting face of many, a living ghost blurring in and out of the crowd as you had pleased, free at last.

For it to have been taken away just from the introduction of three people, was almost hilarious. It was funny how that all worked. Just three people. Three.

Shoko, bless her heart, was your first real friend who guided you into the person that you desperately yearned to be. Someone both caring yet unrestricted from the confines of a sheltered former adolescence and then, guiding you into the further depths of it all, was… them.

Ah, Suguru Geto. If only you knew, huh? You laid back down with your head now slightly throbbing with a faint aura; the beginning of a migraine. These damned lights. So brooding and mysterious he was—it was a shame that he had to turn out the way that he did—a nightmare disguised as a dream. Was it your fault for admiring him from a distance initially? Did you somehow fall victim to some sort of manipulative act, when you found his calm, almost contemplative personality to be a comfort? His suffocating presence wasn’t something you could quite predict, after all, so possessive and longing, yet somehow subtly so. To have eluded the perceptive gaze of Shoko and even Satoru was almost impressive, but unsurprising because even he managed to fool you at times. Oh, how crazy he made you feel, even for just doubting him at all.

Then there was Satoru Gojo. Ah, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru… Oh, so ever loud and energetic, Satoru… Truth be told, you found him overwhelming at first, but there was a certain quality of his that drew you in. He was good at both carrying the conversation as well as involving you within it, making you feel special when the attention landed on you for just a second and dare you say, even… validated. Just like Suguru however, he couldn’t keep up the act for very long, though, even if he did crumble last. In some ways, he was the most volatile one out of both of them, because beyond that playful facade that he let on, was something else that bubbled and simmered beneath the surface. It was hard to tell at times, but it was certainly there.

Something that wasn’t quite calm, but maybe tender. Something that was… vulnerable and whatever it was, it made him dangerous to be around.

So in the end, if you had to truly reflect, then maybe it was all three of you that were at fault.

All three of you were that were victims of losing yourself in an attempt to look for something meaningful in that endless, unforgiving city. All three of you were subjected to the quickly fleeting addiction that you could never quite hold onto, of being both seen and understood. It was no wonder that you opened up too quickly and too soon, slipping on that pair of rose-tinted glasses longer than you should have. Maybe if you took them off when you had the chance, then you too, could have been yet another passing soul in and out of their lives, but you weren’t.

You got attached and so did they, and now, for a lack of better words, it wasn’t just your life that was ruined, but theirs too. All together, the three of you floated around in an unending, aimless drift, leaving Shoko to pick up the pieces (as usual).

The migraine faded and never thankfully developed, but you still grimaced at the light that flickered all the same. He was home, but not close just yet. All of those riches that lined his pockets and he couldn’t afford to screw in a better bulb for the lights or at least opt for something warmer and less clinical. You wanted to punch that light, to let it shatter and paint the room in a much-needed night, but you couldn’t. So instead, you were illuminated and exposed, plunged into the spotlight, forced to look at the pretty little cell he had confined you to.

Such continuous misery left you wondering if your life could have been… maybe… better if you followed Suguru. In a way, you missed his pretty lies because he at least tried to offer you comfort and see you for who you truly were, but he also hurt you, so you couldn’t forgive him. Twice. He hurt you twice and yet, your mind still drifted to him at times. Why? You couldn’t make sense of it—of him—of the very same man who despite forcing you to bury your past behind and move on—surely had an issue with never letting you go, with never letting anything that ever happened to you… go.

Did this therefore make Satoru better or worse? You didn’t even know anymore. They were both equal runner-ups for the worst human being, that much was for certain. Suguru may have been involved from the start, but he was nothing like Satoru, who was always watching right from the start, more closely than you, or anyone else had ever known. Those burning blue eyes so focused yet serene, locked on you in a way that almost felt invasive. If Suguru was the storm, then Satoru must have been the cataclysm itself.

Devastating. Consequential. Unforgiving.

Indeed, you were never free.

All of the hope, all of the dreams—everything else that fell in between—none of it was ever real.

The only thing that had ever remained consistent throughout this whole experience was the part where Satoru told you that he would never, ever let you go.

The lights above you were now starting to buzz and crackle, fading in and out with every muffled thud. He was approaching. Suddenly, you regretted spending so much time reflecting on the aftermath of your life yet again, knowing that you had spent yet another day moping around, thinking of them, of him… knowing fully well that you were never truly alone.

Satoru would reunite with you every night, on clockwork, never late and always on time.

His voice was calm, always welcoming yet never inviting. You always found yourself flinching as he greeted you, wanting nothing more than to be left alone for the night. Just one night was all you asked him for—it was all you begged for at one point—for him to not talk to you, for him to not… touch you. A single night was all that you asked for, a break from having to play pretend.

“Ah, [name],” Satoru cooed, lowering an unwinding staircase that revealed a mocking glimpse of the room just above. A faint reminder of just how close the surface was, yet so inaccessible. The entrance operated on a motor, using some sort of secret code. There was a dial pad inside of the basement he kept you in as a failsafe just in case it locked him in, but try as you might to crack the code, you never guessed it right and every time you failed, it sent an alert to him. “You haven’t moved an inch from where I left you last! Didn’t I tell you about the importance of needing to stretch, even if it’s just for a minute or two a day?”

“Please just let me go,” you croaked out weakly, knowing that he wasn’t going to oblige, let alone even humour you.

Predictably ignoring your request, he walked over to you, setting down a plain white plastic bag right where you lay, strategically positioning it so that you could spot your favourite snacks and drinks poking out.

“It’s been a hell of a long day, you know,” he continued, adopting a softer tone that almost sounded hopeful, “did you miss me?”

You closed your eyes in an attempt to block him out. “You already know the answer to that one, don’t you?”

Satoru snorted a half-laugh, seeming annoyed but also amused. “You’ll have to admit it one day, [name],” he reminded, “the sooner you learn to… adapt, the sooner it’ll start to look up for you, and maybe, just maybe…” he trailed off, letting the beginning of a promise hang, “I’ll let you see your friends again, maybe I’d even let you see… him,” he paused as he said that last word, his composed demeanour ever so slightly faltering at the indirect mention of Suguru, “so, what do you say?”

You repeated the same answer you always did, “Never, Gojo,” you sighed, already expecting the worst as he took up the free seat next to you on the sofa, settling right where your head lay.

You felt a cold shocking jolt run through your body as his cold hands cupped your face, tilting your head up to meet with his longing yet intense stare. He would do such a thing on occasion, hoping that you would return even a hint of the way you once looked at Suguru before, and yet you didn’t. In your eyes, there was resentment but also, if he looked hard enough, fear.

“What have I told you about being so formal, huh?” he murmured, scoffing a little, “we’ve been over this, you’ll call me Satoru and we’re… we’re going to make this work,” he reminded you, trying to maintain his composure, “I’m not letting you go either way, so you’re going to have to drop that at some point, because like it or not, it’s not up to you how it all goes… it never has been.”

You blinked, unable to reply.

Satoru’s eyes softened for a moment, revealing a hint of internally conflicting vulnerability, maybe even traces of guilt glinting in his stare. “We’ll play pretend for as long as we have to, yeah? We’ll make all of it feel real one day.”

His words cut sharp even if it was just a reminder of something you already knew, that there was some sort of unseen force meddling in the sidelines of your life, forcing you to endure whatever life had in store for you, even if it meant pretending that it was all okay.

One thing did bother you, though.

A question that you looped over and over in the back of your mind and yet you never did dare ask him, as if afraid to hear the answer.

If he was simply fulfilling his promise to never let you go…

…Then why was he punishing you for being here?

[darklydreamingdaddydom]

Melissa always seemed to wait to use the bathroom until she felt somewhat desperate.  Like a child would.  Feeling like she was going to burst, this was no exception..  She only had a few blocks left to get home from shopping, as town was only a short walk.  

This situation was bad though, she couldn’t even concentrate on what she was doing which is why when she tripped and fell, she completely lost control.  She just froze on her hands and knees as she lost control and soaked herself.

She was utterly humiliated, but a part of her felt very naughty and turned on too.  It was also quite a relief to finally let go.  The short walk back was a real walk of shame, no way to hide what she had done.  

She hoped her boyfriend wasn’t home yet, but he greeted her at the door.  At first she was worried what he might say, but he just pulled her in to a hug and soft kiss, telling her it was okay, that he would take care of her.  She felt very little as he led her by the hand to the bathroom.

After stripping her down and turning on the shower he put her clothes in the wash.  “When you’re done, I’ll have a surprise waiting for you in the bedroom baby girl.”  She blushed when he called her that, wondering what the surprise might be.  

When she came out she was a bit mortified to find a thick disposable diaper open on the bed.  He came into the room and explained that he knew she had a couple accidents in the past..  Plus he didn’t mind taking care of such a beautiful little girl he said with another kiss.

It didn’t take long for her to give in, laying down and letting him do his handy work.  It was a perfect fit, warm and soft, the thickness between her legs made her feel like a helpless infant.

He picked her up and carried her on his hip, taking her to cuddle in blankets and watch movies.  It wouldn’t be long before she wet her diaper for the first time on his lap.  He just smiled and rubbed the front of her diaper a little, teasing as she pressed into his hand with a soft whimper.  She could get used to this.  

[redrose10]

hii for the prompt game thing: how about 5, 5, and 55 or 60 with Yoongi! I just love how you write Yoongi, but it's up to you if you want to change the member!

I hope this is what you were looking for! I’m so sorry if it isn’t.

< Beauty and the Frog >

CEO Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, very slightly suggestive, Yoongi is pretty mean in this one

CEO, Unrequited love

#55 “That’s not very nice.”

#60 “I fail to see how that is my problem.”

*******************************************************

You had known Yoongi since you were in elementary school. You had seen him around the building but the first time you really interacted with him was when you were partnered up together in your 8th grade biology class. You refused to dissect a frog and even after the teacher threatened you with an F and a trip to the principal’s office you stood your ground. Yoongi admired that and followed suit earning you both after school detentions. It brought you guys together and you were best friends from that moment on.

Freshman year was intense. Lots of changes and new stressful situations but you had Yoongi by your side so it made everything a little easier.

Tenth grade was better. You had gotten the hang of things and were able to navigate life. You and Yoongi were still best friends and stuck mostly to yourselves. Many rumors went around the school about you two but you always ignored them.

You were in the eleventh grade when you realized your crush on Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him for much of the summer because he went to stay with his grandparents in the countryside. When he walked into the school on the first day your mouth dropped open. He had grown a few inches taller. Most of the baby fat in his face had disappeared leaving him with a chiseled jawline. He had let his hair grow out and he seemed to have bought some new clothes with the money he had earned at his part time job. The first thing he did was walk towards you and wrap you in a hug giving you the first feeling of how much more muscular he had become while working on his grandparents farm. When he said your name his voice was considerably deeper than you remembered. You locked away your secret crush for the whole year not wanting to ruin anything between you two. The thought of loosing him forget was too much to handle.

Senior year of high school was flying by. Yoongi was captain of the basketball team. You took a position as the teams water girl after he begged you too just so guys could get to spend a little more time together. You had decided that after the final game of the season you were going to ask him to Prom. Your nerves were out of control as you waited for Yoongi to come out of the locker room but minutes and minutes went by. Every other member of the team had already left leaving you wondering what was going on. As you exited the school there were mumblings and whispers about two people hooking up in the parking lot. You felt a knot in your stomach as you walked outside only to see exactly what you had feared. Yoongi exiting the backseat of his car with his zipper down and his belt still undone and the head cheerleader following behind while still pulling her skirt back down. When Yoongi came walking over to you asking if you were ready to hit up your usual after game pizza place you declined telling him you weren’t feeling well. He offered to take you home and hang out there but you shook your head accepting a ride from Hoseok instead much to Yoongi’s disappointment. Yoongi went to prom with the cheerleader while you skipped it all together deciding to never let him know about your crush.

College was much of the same only you didn’t feel a soul crushing sense of sadness whenever Yoongi would bring a random woman back to your shared apartment. You had learned to accept it for what it was. The ones he actually dated hurt a little more than the one night stands but you got through it, even having a few romantic adventures of your own.

Graduation came and went and Yoongi started his own record label with some money he and received as an inheritance. You were so incredibly proud of him and excited to see him succeed as the CEO and Owner of his own business.

It took a few years but DTown Records slowly became one of the hottest companies in music while producing nearly every hit on the radio.

When things got too crazy Yoongi offered you a job. He wanted you to become be his Chief Operating Officer. At first you declined saying you didn’t know much about the music industry but Yoongi knew you had a degree in business and he trusted you. So eventually you gave in and became his partner.

It was a lot like the old times. The two of you spent countless hours together all the while your old crush was blossoming more and now to the point you started feeling like you loved him.

Then Yoongi introduced you to Mia, an up and coming artist he had met at some big industry event he had gone too. Immediately you didn’t like her. It wasn’t all jealousy. She just gave you bad vibes. She was a little too quick to use Yoongi’s credit card any time she wanted to purchase something. She was constantly flirting with other men when he wasn’t around. And she definitely did not like you. She had one too many glasses of wine or coffee “accidentally” spilled on you by her way more times than could happen accidentally. She was always conveniently having emergencies any time you and Yoongi tried hanging out. You also heard from Jin, Yoongi’s assistant, that one morning she was giving Yoongi reason after reason to fire you.

You tried to talk to Yoongi but he was having no part of it even going as far as you call you jealous and told you to grow up. A little crack formed in your relationship for a while until he announced his engagement to Mia. He looked so happy and so in love that you put on your best act and pretended to be happy for him even though you were devastated.

The night before the wedding you were laying in bed trying to mentally and emotionally prepare yourself to watch the love of your life marry someone else when there was a knock at your door.

Since it was 3am you were nervous to answer it until you heard Yoongi on the other side. He greeted you with red eyes and sniffles before he broke down in your arms and sobbed.

Through his distress you learned that Mia was in her suite at the hotel so that they wouldn’t see each other the night before the wedding. He had snuck over to her with flowers and a song he’d written wanting to be romantic and surprise her. Only he was the one that was surprised when he found her naked riding some wannabe rapper as she moaned his name loudly into the air. The wedding was called off and Yoongi was devastated. You did your best to comfort him while forcing yourself not tell him you told him so.

Yoongi took a few weeks off to recover so you were in charge and things went smoothly. You were excited for his return only to be horrified at what you were met with.

The once happy and full of motivation Yoongi was replaced with the shell of man who was spiteful and outright mean. His heart melting gummy smile was replaced with a nonstop scowl. He fired people left and right and talked down to his employees. He wasn’t the Yoongi you’d known all these years. His broken heart had changed him to an unrecognizable person. But you still knew deep down that the Yoongi you knew was in there so you stuck around.

Bit by bit you snipped away at the barbed wire that surround him. His favorite coffee, lunch from his favorite Thai Restaurant. Tickets to see his favorite basketball team. Your secret fresh baked cookies that he had always loved.

One morning he came into work to find a brown stuffed poodle that looked exactly like the dog he had when he was in middle school. You saw the faintest hint of a smile at that one and you thought maybe you had finally got to him but then he took the toy and stuffed into the bottom drawer of his desk to be forgotten and started barking out orders to people in the office.

Then one morning Yoongi called you into his office, something he didn’t do much of any more.

“Y/N, I’m moving the headquarters for the label to LA.”, he said after you took a seat.

“Wh-What? You can’t do that.”

He scoffed, “It’s my company. I can and I am. I need to get out of this city and start new. I can’t stay here any more.”

“What about the employees here? What about me?”, you questioned.

“We’ll keep a small team here the rest we’ll have to let go and as for you…I want you to move to LA with me.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Yoongi that’s the other side of the world. I have family and friends here. My whole life is here. I can’t just pack up and move.”

“I understand Y/N. I can’t force you to go but I really want you to. I need you to come with me.”, he said barely above a whisper.

So you agreed. And within a couple weeks you were packed up and goodbyes were said and you were moved to Los Angeles. It was a difficult decision but you would do anything that Yoongi needed and/or wanted.

The company was doing incredibly well while making record profits. Things were also going great between you and Yoongi. You were closer than you had been in a while. Your feelings began blossoming fuller and fuller as time went on now that things didn’t seem so tense.

One afternoon you walked into Yoongi’s office. He was on the phone with someone so you took a seat to politely wait.

“Mmhm I’ll be there.

I know I know it’s been a while.

Yeah my flight leaves at noon.

I know babe I’m excited.”

You rolled your eyes hearing him use the pet name. He smiled when he noticed your reaction before quickly hanging up the phone.

“Going on a trip?”, you asked.

He looked nervous as he fidgeted with a pen, “Actually Y/N, that is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You nodded letting him know you were listening.

He took a deep breath, “I’m moving back to Seoul.”

“What?!”, your mouth dropped open.”

He nodded, “I’ve been talking to someone, her name is Mae. We met at the Valentino show a couple months ago. She’s a model based out of Seoul so I’m going to move back there.”

You shook your head, “Yoongi I…you can’t move back. I gave up everything. I moved all the way to the other side of the world to follow you.”

He scoffed, “I didn’t force you to move here. You came here on your own Y/N. Just move back with me.”

“Yoongi I can’t just keep moving around the world whenever you have a new fuck buddy.”

He looked offended, “Mae is not a fuck buddy. I love her.”

You could feel tears begin to form, “You don’t love her Yoongi. You love that she puts out whenever you demand it. If she loved you she would come to you, not the other way around. Like I do. I’m always here for you. I do everything for you. I love you Yoongi.“

He stared at you for what felt like forever. Finally he slammed his laptop down, “I fail to see how that is my problem.“

His coldness shocked you. He had never spoken directly to you in that way. “That’s not very nice.”, you whispered through sniffles.

Yoongi softened at the sight of you realizing just how harsh he had been. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for speaking to you that way. I’m also sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you.”, he packed up his things and headed towards the door, “I’m leaving for Seoul tomorrow. You can stay here and run this sector of the company or come back to Seoul. It’s up to you. I don’t really care.”

He walked through the door letting it close behind him.

He moved back to Seoul as he had said. Him and Mae got engaged three months later. They were married the following year and divorced by the next one.

You remained in your position as the COO through all of it, mostly because of the pay and travel perks, because your relationship with Yoongi had become strictly business after you confessed. You stayed in Seoul to run that location while he moved back to LA. It hurt for a while and it took a lot for you to move on from him.

But eventually you did.

And when Jungkook got down on one knee and proposed the first person you called was Yoongi. He didn’t answer. He never responded to the text either. He didn’t come to your engagement party. He declined the wedding invite. All you got was a generic card in the mail that you could tell had been filled out by Jin. Eventually you gave up and decided to put in your resignation because you and Jungkook were moving to New York. He didn’t contact you even then.

It wasn’t until almost three years later that you heard from him again. There was a package that arrived for you.

A card read, “Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I wish you all nothing but happiness... I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one.- Min Yoongi.”

In the box was a stuffed animal. A wide smile formed on your face as you took the bright green frog with a pink bow on its head and placed it in the crib next to your sleeping daughter before joining Jungkook in the kitchen to finish up dinner.

[intimidatingpuffinstudios]

How would the RO's fare if they were in Cy's shoes? Only able to get their MC fix in dreams when the MC sleeps?

Well, Manerkol already is, and we've all seen how he's dealing with that, so ☠️

Morkai would be going frantic to find the MC. Not dealing well at all. He'd insist on having a sleep schedule that both he and the MC follow so that they always fall asleep at the same time. He'd try to keep control of the uncontrollable and then feel like he failed.

Straasa would try to keep calm and work through ideas and solutions to get together. He tries to keep hopeful, and he's beyond grateful for any time he gets to spend with the MC. Even though his heart is breaking.

Daelynn would be in hell. She'd be losing her grip on reality, torn between wanting to sleep all the time so she could be with her MC and not sleeping at all trying to find a way to be together.

Eledwen would be caught between torment over not being together and abject happiness at having found the MC at all. She'd never lose hope, never stop trying to find them no matter how much time has passed.

Rai would be unraveling, to be honest. They'd be desperate to find the MC, and the more time passed, the more reckless they'd get trying to get together. They'd take risks that they really shouldn't.

Sielthan would get laser focused on finding a solution. They'd leave no stone unturned, and they'd make sure the MC never loses hopes and gives up. Pure determination. It's only a matter of time.

Zach would sit down and make a thorough plan to get out of the unbearable situation. They'd have contingencies upon contingencies, and they'd regularly reassure the MC that they're figuring it out.

Bonus Mornie: She believes that any problem in life can be solved by killing the right person, so she will fucking find that person and get her MC no matter what.

[josephandrewstarkey]

beach fight — part 5

warnings: not really any i think

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

part 1 — part 2 — part 3 — part 4 — part 5

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

After the chaos on the beach and Rafe’s revelation that he’d been the reason Alex ghosted her, Y/N was furious. She felt betrayed, hurt, and done with Rafe Cameron. She couldn’t believe how possessive and controlling he’d become, always tearing apart anyone who got close to her. That night, JJ was the one who stayed by her side, listening to her vent, offering the support she needed. Over the next few days, he kept her distracted from the mess that was Rafe—taking her surfing, watching old movies, and going on long walks along the beach where they’d talk about everything, life, dreams, and escape. JJ helped her through the anger, the sadness, and even the guilt she felt over her tangled feelings for Rafe. He became her escape.

Tonight, they’d planned to let go of everything—to drown out their emotions with laughter and liquor. y/n and JJ had taken the Twinkie for a quick run to the liquor store, their last stop before joining the others.

As they turned the last corner, there stood the one and only, Rafe Cameron, standing right in front of them with that same intense stare. Before she could pull back, JJ leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered, “Play along.”

Y/N shot him a curious glance, but his smirk told her all she needed to know. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, JJ steered them down the aisle, and she leaned into his touch, letting herself laugh as he murmured random things to make her smile. They strolled right past Rafe, and she could feel his eyes like a searing brand on her skin. She bit back a smirk, feeling her pulse quicken as JJ’s hand slid down to rest on her butt, almost on instinct.

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched, and for a moment, it looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he just glared, simmering with barely contained anger. JJ caught his glare and decided to make it worse, resting his hand on her hip as he whispered something else that made Y/N giggle. She kept her expression cool, keeping her gaze averted from Rafe’s furious stare as they paid for their drinks and walked out.

Once outside, she thought they were finally free of him, but then came the familiar voice, tinged with desperation and anger. “Y/N.”

She paused, rolling her eyes, and turned around with a sigh, JJ standing firmly at her side. “What?”

Rafe ignored JJ, his eyes fixed on her. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “No.”

“Y/N, please,” he pressed, voice softer this time, almost pleading. “Just hear me out.”

JJ looked at her, raising a brow as if to ask if she wanted him to intervene. She hesitated, a mix of curiosity and frustration bubbling up. Against her better judgment, she nodded for JJ to give them a minute. He shot Rafe a glare before stepping a few paces away, just close enough to intervene if he needed to.

“What do you want, Rafe?” she asked, voice sharp and cold.

Rafe’s gaze softened, regret visible in his expression. “I want to apologize, alright? I know I fucked up, fucked this up. All I’ve been able to think about is you. I miss you.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “That’s what you said last time, Rafe. And the time before that.” She took a step back, her voice dropping to a tired whisper. “I don’t trust you. Not anymore.”

His face fell, desperation evident in his eyes. She started to turn, wanting to end this exhausting conversation, but Rafe grabbed her wrist, pulling her back toward him. She shot him a glare, her body tense as she remembered how their last confrontation had gone.

He hesitated, loosening his grip just enough for her to snatch her wrist back. JJ stepped forward, fists clenched, ready to jump in if needed. But Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender, trying to keep the situation from escalating.

He hesitated, loosening his grip just enough for her to snatch her wrist back. JJ stepped forward, fists clenched, ready to jump in if needed. But Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender, trying to keep the situation from escalating.

Y/N turned sharply and stormed back to JJ, who protectively threw an arm over her shoulder as they headed out, leaving Rafe standing alone, clenching his fists and barely able to hold back his anger.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Back at home, Rafe was still furious, every memory of Y/N and JJ at the liquor store playing in his mind. The idea of JJ being so close to her, the sight of him with his arm over her shoulder, and especially the thought of him being the one to comfort her—it all pushed Rafe to the edge.

He stomped into his house and slammed the door shut, not even noticing Sofia standing nearby until she approached him. She looked up, concerned, trying to get his attention.

“Hey, baby, you oka—”

But Rafe ignored her, brushing past her and heading upstairs, lost in his own thoughts. Sofia trailed after him, not giving up, until he finally stopped in his room, turning around to face her.

“What do you want?” he asked, annoyed.

Sofia’s face fell. “Nothing. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Well, I’m clearly fine,” he scoffed, sitting down on his bed. “So can you leave? Thanks.”

Sofia turned to walk out, her shoulders slumping, but Rafe suddenly called after her.

“Hey, Sofia.”

She turned around, looking hopeful. “Yeah?”

“We’re over.”

Sofia’s face went pale, and her voice shook. “W-what? Why?”

“Because I said so,” he replied coldly, his patience snapping. “Pack your shit and leave.”

Tears welled up in Sofia’s eyes as she stood there, stunned, before she quickly left the room, crying.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

We got back to the house,I was still processing everything that had happened. JJ and I were quiet about it, both of us not wanting to bring any of that drama to the night.

Everyone was already getting comfortable outside, smoking and drinking as usual. It was like nothing had happened, and for a little while, I let myself get lost in the fun. JJ was by my side, as always, his arm draped around my shoulders or pulling me into side hugs. He’d whisper jokes in my ear, making me laugh and forget the mess of emotions swirling inside of me. We drank, we smoked, and for a while, everything felt right.

Before long, everyone was asleep. I could hear the soft breaths of the others in the hammocks, the sounds of a peaceful night settling in. But I wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet. I stood up, slipping quietly past everyone, making my way inside to go to the bathroom.

I hadn’t noticed JJ was still awake until I turned around at the sound of footsteps behind me. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him standing there in the hallway, a look of quiet intensity in his eyes.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his voice soft, almost teasing.

“It’s fine,” I smiled, though there was a sudden flutter of something else in my chest, something I couldn’t quite name.

I tried to open the bathroom door, but before I could, JJ was there, stepping closer, his hand on the doorframe as he leaned in. His lips crashed into mine, deep and urgent, surprising me. But before I knew it, I was kissing him back, my body responding to his in a way I hadn’t expected.

He pushed me back against the wall, his hands roaming, fingers pressing against the soft fabric of my clothes as he kissed me harder. It felt different than anything I’d ever experienced—intense, full of raw energy. My breath hitched as he moved even closer, the heat between us building.

Without saying a word, he scooped me up, carrying me effortlessly upstairs, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as I pressed against him. He kicked the door shut behind us, locking it with a quiet click that seemed to seal us in, alone in this moment.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

@thepopcultureaddict @lovrsin @heartsforrafecam @aerie717 @4ria790 @idkimagines @trapistani @ravngers @stardrewkey @poisonedsultana @toterry @esquivelbianca @rrosiitas @izurelia @faephoria @alayaaaahhhhhh @effyssky @frankoceanluvr11

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: Chapter One

The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: You are being courted by Morpheus, one of the seven Endless. Then you get stood up on your date, and find out the shocking reason why.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader, Destiny = Russian Blue, Death = Sphinx, Dream = Mainecoon, Desire = Bombay, Despair = Exotic Shorthair, Delirium = Bengal.

Word Count: ~3.4k

Masterlist | Next

Apparently, having an Endless ‘court’ you means being showered with attention, gifts, and being treated like royalty while visiting the Dreaming. A quick Google search makes your situation clear. Courting is basically dating with the intention to marry, the step before engagement. So, you’ve essentially told Dream of the Endless he could court you and potentially marry you. Wow, you really have a knack for getting yourself into situations!

On the bright side, you enjoy the intimate time spent with Morpheus as he shows you places within the Dreaming you’d never imagined. Despite all the ethereal beauty and wonder you gaze at, Morpheus always keeps his eyes on you. That makes you feel special, beautiful, and seen—a first in your life.

It’s also an ego boost for the Endless to watch you fawn over his creations, as there’s nothing you don’t find awe-inspiring or amazing.

Morpheus’ courtship sweeps you up in a romantic swirl of magical dreams, picnics, and strolls, making you feel like you’re living a never-ending fairytale. But fairytales always end, right? You don’t think it’s going to crash and burn; you’re just suspicious of how well things are going in your life. Nothing has ever been this smooth and easy for this long. You’re suspicious, to say the least. That’s how you find yourself absentmindedly stirring muffin batter while lost in thought.

“Hey, uh, Y/N?” Matthew chitters, his head cocking to the side. “I think you’re over-stirring the batter…” You blink out of your tumultuous thoughts and glance down at the bowl. Damn it.

“It’s banana muffins,” you mutter, trying to hype yourself up. “They’re forgiving… right?” Matthew has no idea if banana muffins are forgiving, as he doesn’t bake, but he remembers that over-stirring muffin batter is a kitchen no-no.

“No idea, but sure, they’ll taste good either way,” the raven replies from his perch on the window sill. You installed a little bird perch for him after Morpheus began courting you. Matthew cocks his head further at you while you spoon the batter into the muffin tray. “So, you’ve been really lost in your thoughts lately, Y/N. Something wrong?”

You don’t reply at first, choosing to collect your thoughts while spooning dollops of batter. With a more than necessary drawn-out soft sigh, you finally reply:

“I feel like I’m in a fairy tale,” you explain almost numbly, realizing that admitting your thoughts out loud makes them true. “A stupid Disney fairy tale where all my wishes and dreams come true.”

Listening to your softly spoken words, Matthew is confused by how down you seem about those words. You’re happy with your life, right? It sure seems like it with the way you smile when Morpheus is with you—you practically glow! Clearly, everything isn’t fine in reality.

“What’s wrong with that?” Matthew broaches, ruffling his wings. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Fairy tales come to an end, Matthew, and I’m starting to wonder when mine will do the same.” You reply with a shrug, setting aside the now empty bowl and grabbing the filled muffin tray. “I’m not going to pretend that this is going to last forever. Nothing in my life has ever been without problems or heartbreak.”

“What exactly are you saying? Things are going too well between you and the boss man?”

“Pretty much,” you say, putting the tray in the oven and setting the timer. “I mean, do you know what it means to court someone? It isn’t dating, Matthew.”

“Uh, you’re gonna have to clarify for me because I have no idea what courting even is…” the raven responds sheepishly. You lean back against the kitchen counter and stare out the window.

“It means you get to know someone with the intention of marriage,” you explain to the raven, feeling silly for even saying the words. In what dimension would an Endless want to marry you?

“Wow, boss, you’re really going for it,”

Sitting on the park bench where you’ve spent countless hours next to a certain brooding man, your jaw clenches and fingers grip the worn wood tightly. Morpheus is never late. In fact, it always seems like he waits for you to arrive. He’s always careful never to have you wait on him and extends every chance he has to spend more time with you. So why isn’t he at your meeting place today?

Perhaps something has come up in the Dreaming, and he had to tend to that incident first? No, Matthew would have come to inform you of such an event. You spend many of your waking hours in the raven’s presence, and he keeps you well informed about what’s going on in the Dreaming. They wouldn’t leave you sitting all by yourself on this bench wondering...

“Maybe I was right,” you softly speak to yourself, thinking back to the conversation you had with Matthew about how your life is a fairy tale. Perhaps this is the great end you’ve been expecting? No, Morpheus wouldn’t do that to you. He dotes on you like a loyal boyfriend and worships the ground you tread! If you and he were going to end your relationship, no doubt it would be an explosive event with anger and tears. Not this nothingness. “They wouldn’t do this to me, they wouldn’t do this to us.”

You repeat those words in your mind, trying to convince yourself that nothing is wrong and that, for once, Morpheus and Matthew are distracted by something to miss your bi-weekly date at the park. Tonight you’ll enter the Dreaming and hunt down Lucienne to find out what happened. An Endless hellbent on courting you like a queen wouldn’t ghost you.

Sighing in dejection, you rise from your seat and stuff your hands in your pockets. Clearly, your date is going to have to be postponed. So you turn and slowly begin walking back towards your home, trying not to let your mind turn upon itself. Following the winding path, you pass a group of children kicking around a soccer ball and a pair of gossiping women. The pathway bends around a group of trees that obscure the rest of the park, and while you glance at a flowering bush, a cacophony of birds and breaking branches startles you out of your inner thoughts. You look up in time to see a black mass of ruffled feathers shooting directly at you and take the bird straight in the chest.

Obviously, you fall on your ass with a less-than-graceful yelp. While your palms sting from rocks and gravel digging into your flesh, you grunt and shift into a sitting position as the black bird rights itself.

“We’ve got a MASSIVE problem, boss lady!!” Matthew thunders from where he’s still perched in your lap, feathers askew and very ruffled. You blink at him in surprise, wondering why the hell he would be pulling such a stunt in broad daylight around the public. But before the flustered raven can tell you exactly what’s going on and why it’s such a huge problem, your phone’s ringtone goes off.

“Hold that thought, let me get off the ground and check my phone. It might be work…” Moving Matthew so he’s perched on your shoulder instead of your lap, you pull yourself to your feet and slip your phone from your pocket. The moment your eyes glance at the screen, your brow furrows. “Why on earth would they be calling?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Matthew all but shrieks in your ear. “The boss is a cat again!” Dear sweet Jesus, not again! At least the animal shelter has your number on file and is calling you. Accepting the call, you hold the phone to your ear while speed-walking home.

“Hello?”

“Hello! We are calling you to inform you that we have picked up your cat Morpheus after he was found at the scene of an accident with other felines. We suspect that someone might have been trafficking purebreds given the conditions he and the others were found in. We’ll give him a once-over before you take him home.”

Well, no wonder he hadn’t shown up for your date!

Never mind that, brain. Morpheus is a cat again and possibly mixed up in animal trafficking? You need to get over to that shelter pronto!

“I’ll be right over as soon as I get home,” you promise before ending the call.

“Boss lady to the rescue,” Matthew sighs in relief. “I’ve been trying to bust him and the others out for at least two hours, but I got chased off.” The raven explains. “You have no idea how despondent the boss was when he realized he was going to miss your date. Thought he was going to start crying… can cats cry?”

“No idea and I do not want to find out.” You muse, crossing the street and setting your eyes on your front door. You unlock the door and throw yourself into your home, searching for your car keys. “Stay here while I handle this. It shouldn’t take long since they’ve dealt with him before.”

“Well, yeah,” Matthew agrees, coasting to his perch. “But what about his—” you’re already out the door, the wood slamming shut behind you. You know Morpheus isn’t in any danger of being neutered by the staff, but you do know he isn’t too keen on being touched and prodded while being examined. The last thing you want is for him to get injured a second time while in cat form… which makes you wonder how the hell this happened a second time!

Your boyfriend has a lot of explaining to do. Boyfriend. Gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, you stare at the red light holding you in place, wondering when you began to think of him as your boyfriend. It makes sense; he is courting you. Has been for several months. But you’d never put a name to your relationship like that, just worried that things were going too well.

“It was a cat that got me into this, and a cat that will probably get me out of this,” you sigh to yourself, pressing the accelerator when the light finally turns green. The only question is, how long are you going to have to wait this time? Hours? Days? Are you going to wake up in bed with him naked again? You wouldn’t complain about that if it did happen again. But seriously, Morpheus really needs to stop getting stuck in cat form because once was excusable but twice is just ridiculous. Especially for an all-powerful Endless.

While you aren’t feeling as stressed as you did the first time entering the animal shelter, you’re still jittery about the idea of an Endless confined in a feline form. Trotting up to the desk, you give the receptionist a smile and tell her that you’re there to pick up Morpheus.

“He’s in back with the other five cats. Follow me,” she says. You do as told, following the receptionist to the back of the clinic and to a room marked ‘holding.’ The moment the door is opened and you step inside, your eyes zero in on the large form of your boyfriend currently sulking in a corner while a gorgeous Bengal bounces off the walls with energy near him. They couldn’t be more opposite! Letting out a breath of relief, you take a step forward, ignoring the dark-bodied Sphinx that trots up to you and sniffs your jeans.

“Morpheus?” you call softly, not wanting to spoil his mood further. Azure eyes settle on you, and in less than a second, the Black Maine Coon is launching himself at you. “Oh jeez,” you exclaim, awkwardly catching the flying form of your boyfriend as he latches onto you with his nails and instantly begins rubbing his face everywhere he can. “Mor—Morpheus, is this… is this really necessary?” you question, pulling away from his nuzzles. A rumble sounds in his body.

They must know you are mine.

You have no idea what he’s talking about, let alone who ‘they’ are. Perhaps the other cats? Your eyes glance around the small room as you hug Morpheus to your chest to support his weight. Obviously, there’s the energetic Bengal and the dark Sphinx, but a black cat with the most peculiar golden eyes lounges on a table observing you while what you think is an Exotic Shorthair lazes about. Finally, your eyes catch sight of a looming body perched on top of a bookshelf, glossy blue-gray fur shimmering in the light while an eyeless gaze stares into your soul.

Holy fuck.

“Family,” you whisper faintly, realizing what this is. The whole Endless family has been turned into cats. Destruction is clearly not here, he’s been missing for a long time, but the six remaining siblings are all accounted for. “How—how did this happen??”

I am afraid we cannot speak of what took place, beloved.

Morpheus’ words draw your gaze from the sightless, but not unseeing, Destiny. You look at him with panic in your eyes.

“Morpheus, Morpheus I am not—” You cut yourself off when a worker pops in.

“Hello! You must be Morpheus’ owner! We’re so glad to reunite him with you after the accident. We haven’t been able to identify the owners of the others, but they are obviously well-fed and cared for…” You speak before you can think your words through.

“They’re all mine,” you blurt out. “The cats. I mean, I’m not a crazy cat lady, I just… love cats…” You ramble as your face heats up, but the worker doesn’t even blink at your claim. The Sphinx obediently sits at your feet, looking up at you. The Bombay gets to its feet, stretches, and jumps down to the floor to get closer, and the Russian Blue, who has been the most aloof, gracefully leaps to the floor and joins the Sphinx. Clearly, they know you and are comfortable with you. “It’s complicated.” You finally sputter out.

“Just means a little extra paperwork, but we are glad to see that they have a loving home to go back to,” the worker replies. “We were real worried about a bunch of families missing their cats.”

“Nope,” you say in a high-pitched voice, cringing on the inside because you clearly need to calm down. “All mine, and clearly I need to make sure to fix whatever they used to get out.”

“I’ll go grab the paperwork and get the cardboard boxes ready. Hang tight,” she says, leaving you alone in the room with six of the most powerful beings in creation, all stuck in cat form.

“Someone better start speaking because this is above my pay grade,” you state, turning back to gaze at Morpheus’ siblings. This is not how you pictured meeting them. You never expected to meet them in the first place! “I—Let’s just be clear that I am a mortal human, and I do not play around with supernatural bullshit on the regular.”

That is understandable; this must be quite a shock for you, Y/N. You look down at the Sphinx, hearing a gentle female voice coming from that direction.

“Great, so I have no idea who is who except I can guess who is Destiny.” The Sphinx blinks at you, and you could swear you receive the cat version of a smile. Meanwhile, Morpheus is still rubbing his face everywhere he can reach.

I am Death, and I am pleased to meet the one who holds my brother's heart.

“Do Endless even have a heart to be held?” you wonder aloud.

Not a physical one. This time, the voice is suave and silky, drawing a low rumbling growl from deep within Morpheus. He pulls away from your neck, where he had been furiously rubbing his scent, and settles his gaze on his sibling.

Do not meddle with my beloved, Desire. Desire, the gorgeous Bombay, doesn’t even bother to bat an eyelash at the hostility in Morpheus’ voice and words.

Oh big brother, must you be so protective? It’s not every day that we get to meet the one who currently holds your attention. You can’t help but flinch at that wording. Hold his attention. Is that all you’re doing? You’ve heard bits and pieces of Morpheus’ past lovers, and by far, you’re the plainest. But you also know about Desire and their love for stirring shit up in the family.

“Desire, I presume?” you ask, stroking Morpheus’ body in an effort to calm him down before a full-on cat fight breaks out in this room. His hackles are already raised.

A pleasure. You must meet my twin; we’ve been ever so curious about you. Twin. Despair, the Exotic Shorthair, who is almost as sulky as Morpheus but barely makes any effort to move from where she lounges. That must mean…

“So you must be Delirium,” you surmise, turning your gaze to the Bengal that’s exploring the room and getting distracted by every little thing she comes across. “I didn’t exactly expect to meet you all like this, but I guess this is what was in the cards?” Your eyes glance down at the silent, eyeless Russian Blue. It’s a little creepy to look at him, but you can’t deny his beauty. Which is odd to think because he’s currently a cat. A cat with no eyes.

This is as planned. That’s a relief to know. Destiny, after all, sees everything. But still, how long is this going to last?

“Okay, and how long should I expect you all to be like this? If you can even tell me about that…”

Not for long, beloved. Morpheus reassures you, only taking solace in the fact that you won’t be subjected to his sibling’s noxious presence for very long. A few days at most.

“A few days, I can do that,” you breathe out, steeling yourself for a few tense days before everything returns to normal. You hug Morpheus to your chest for comfort, which the Endless certainly is pleased about, until the small cardboard boxes arrive to package up the cats for transport.

Morpheus’ ears go flat on his head, and a soft rumble emerges from his throat. Desire slips far away from you, clearly understanding what’s going to happen. Destiny, Death, and Despair wouldn’t care about being shut in the cat carriers, but Dream, Desire, and Delirium are probably going to be another story!

“The quicker you get into the carriers, the faster we can get home, and the faster you can get out of the carriers,” you announce to the cat Endless. The cardboard carriers are lined up, and you’re happy to see that Destiny and Death don’t hesitate to walk over and climb in one—they’re sensible enough. Desire glares at the boxes in disdain but ultimately sulks over, calling for his twin at the same time. All that’s left are Dream and Delirium.

Delirium is still bouncing off the walls and playing with every little thing she can get her paws on before getting distracted by another object… and Morpheus is still covering you in his scent and refusing to ease his claws out of your shirt.

“Morpheus, my love, box,” you chide him while peeling his claws from your shirt. “I need to get Delirium into a box before she gets out of the room and we have to chase her down.” Your boyfriend couldn’t look more pathetic than he does when you place his massive body in the extra-large box and close it up. Sighing, you stand up and look at Delirium.

She’s currently pawing at the space beneath a storage cabinet. Something has caught her attention.

“Delirium?” you call, and the Bengal turns towards you, revealing one blue and one green eye. “It’s time to go to my home. You can play around there as much as you want.” The youngest Endless blinks at you, and for a moment, you think she’s going to ignore your words and go back to bouncing off walls… but she runs over to you, full of energy, and launches herself into the box with an excited meow. “Thank you.”

With the six cats boxed up neatly, a worker helps place them on a rolling cart to make transport easy. Of course, you have to fill out paperwork for each of your five new ‘cats,’ but with Morpheus already in their system, it’s not that long of a process. While you finish up the last bits of paperwork, the cats are loaded into your car, and with a profuse apology on your part, you scurry to your car to get the Endless back to your home.

Date Published: 11/13/24

Last Edit: 11/13/24

Masterlist | Next

[universalzones]

Belle wondered if everyone else could keep their calm when returning to base. Lanolin did have a bit more control on this end since she was physically here, though was sure it'd be harder to properly control them from the other side of GUN's check point. The tinkerer did take noticed to the sheep's expression. "I think it's a good idea. I mean, now GUN will have to worry about being hit from two sides so hopefully it'll make them far less likely to attack us."

"Though it's hard to say for sure as from what I know about GUN they seem pretty all over the place when it comes to things." Belle honestly thought GUN was a complete mess in any situation, though this time they seemed far more organized. The tinkerer could only assume it was because of this mysterious commander which made her wonder just who they were and what they wanted.

"Though maybe we should focus on catching up with Sonic and Surge. I don't like doubting Sonic, though if we're all at the check point it should help him better keep his cool seeing as he wouldn't do anything to endanger anyone." Belle had no doubt Sonic was fine putting his own life in danger, though he always put others above himself. The tinkerer did feel using this logic against him rather dirty.

"I shall, though let us hope the commander doesn't attempt to undermine that choice. I shall leave you to focus on the situation down there." Blaze would stop the connection and then flag the airship to talk to the commander once more. With any luck hopefully the feline could now put some pressure back on him.

One of the Mother Wisp's eyes would look at Maggie, growing softer sensing her worry for her friend so would speak to her directly. "✋︎⧫︎ ♓︎⬧︎ □︎🙵♋︎⍓︎ ●︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ □︎■︎♏︎📪︎ ♑︎□︎ ♍︎♒︎♏︎♍︎🙵 □︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ♐︎❒︎♓︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎◻︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ♏︎♋︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ⬧︎♒︎♋︎●︎●︎ 🙵♏︎♏︎◻︎ ❍︎⍓︎ □︎⬥︎■︎ ♋︎■︎■︎□︎⍓︎♋︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ◆︎■︎♎︎♏︎❒︎ ♍︎□︎■︎⧫︎❒︎□︎●︎📪︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎ ♎︎□︎ ⧫︎♏︎●︎●︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ✋︎ ⬧︎♒︎♋︎●︎●︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎♋︎♍︎🙵 ♓︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎♋︎♍︎🙵 ❍︎♏︎📬︎"

The President of GUN? Lanolin's eyes seemed to shift and turn rapidly as her brain was running at high speed. GUN had no president but, then they worked for the United Federation of Nations. They did have a president and they were elected officials with alot of power. Before the war they made plenty of moves to make the world safer, but everyone always suspected that they never knew what GUN was up to. She had no idea that the former president from before the War was still in power--- she thought it all fell apart but it seemed that wasn't the case.

" The President of the United Federation of Nations... before the War they were the head of the ruling body here on Mobius. They were an elected offical, but that all fell apart after the war started. I heard they went into hiding, and supplied alot of support to the Resistance at the time. But no one has heard much since the war ended... if its really the president... that complicates things..."

The sheep felt less inclined to fight back now, she understood that GUN was muscling in but! If the President was indeed making this move, they were the nationally elected leader. How could they stand against them? it didn't feel right to her and yet--- they hadn't fought in the war had they? she was conflicted.

Her thoughts broke as one of the soldiers ran up to her holding out a communications device.

" Commander! Coms is back! we even have access to the outside... i have no idea how or how long it will last..."

Lanolin took the device and paused clearly conflicted on how to move forward. If the president was alive, and well she had no intention of going against them. But until she had proof of that it was best to stay the course until she had further information.

" Attention all Restoration Units! This is Unit Commander Lanolin speaking! all Restoration forces are to return to base, form an active perimeter around HQ! Do not engage with GUN forces! but maintain your position until you receive further orders! To any GUN forces listening to this--- We are Restoration! and until i have orders to stand down from a superior officer i will defend this position! you have been warned! "

She released the button from the side of the device and looked somewhat apprehensive. She didn't know if that was the right call and now questioned her position. Her eyes went to Belle as if asking if she did the right thing.

" Blaze... can you send a message to the GUN airship... Tell them if the United Federation President wants us to stand down. He has only to contact me directly... and Gaia i hope i'm doing the right thing..."

Maggie meanwhile remained close to the Mother Wisp knowing she could better direct her rage if she needed to. Yet she could sense Lanolins Distress and hoped everything was alright down below. Still she remained at her post, like a good solider she knew she had a to be part of this offensive if it came to it.

It seemed things were coming to a head fast... this might all end in an explosive confrontation!

[misssakuramochi]

FIELDS OF MISTRIA HEADCANONS

General Smut Headcanons featuring The Bachelors

Minors DNI - Smut below the cut 🍋

(Minors interacting with this post will be blocked. Ty.)

Balor

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○ Generally, Balor is dominant. Whether he's physically on top or not he prefers to feel in control of the situation and usually uses his words to keep it that way. He's a very verbal partner in terms of telling his partner what he wants and what he likes. Naturally he leans more towards softer domming and praise (thought he cant help but tease at least a little bit), but he's certainly not opposed to being rougher if asked nicely.

○ Balor is an extremely generous partner. He tends to keep people at an arms length and struggles to be vulnerable, which results more often than not in him feeling most comfortable sending his partner into fuzzy-headed bliss before they so much as lay hands on him. He also gets off on how hard he can get his partner off, honestly.

○ Balor is very experimental in the bedroom. He's tried his fair share of kinks and toys, and would absolutely introduce any ones he liked that his partner took interest in. Balor finds it incredibly hot when his partner suggests new things to try too. Balor is definitely happiest switching things up every now and again.

○ This man is the most agregious tease. One of Balor's favourite things to do is tease his partner in public (he can take it as well as he dishes it out unfortunately for anyone who tries to retaliate) until they drag him off somewhere, and he gives them what they're begging for until they're so overestimated they tap out. Of course, the aftercare is top notch.

○ Balor's fingers are absolutely divine. He knows how to use the rest of himself just fine, but he's adept with his hands. His almost unnatural ability to find the right way to press all the right spots as quickly as he does is almost uncanny. Balor takes a level of pride in how hard he can get a partner cumming on his fingers.

March

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○ March is sexually inexperienced; as a result, he can be rather awkward about the subject and tends to fluster extremely quickly when it's brought up. The fact that he's insecure about his lack of experience doesn't help that fact either. A new partner has to be emotionally gentle with March for him to open up enough to sleep with them for the first time, but he's much more relaxed once it's happened.

○ While it may be a surprise to new partners because of how long it takes for March to have sex with them the first time, he actually has a very high sex drive. He's not always great at asking for what he wants, but he's almost never one to actually say no if his partner initiates. March might put up a tough front ('I'm too busy with work right now...' ect.) but literally any response (even opting to leave him to work) usually has him crumbling.

○ March is extremely passionate. The way he is 100% invested in his partner and the moment is almost overwhelming in the best possible way. As a result of getting so swept up in the moment March can get a bit rough without meaning to - though he's more mindful of this with a partner who tends to be sensitive. He also likes to be treated a little roughly - a little pain is just a little more pleasure for him.

○ This man 100% has a marking kink. March is absolutely the jealous type, and while he is aware of this enough to handle it like an adult (usually) it does make the idea of leaving physical marks on his partner very appealing to him. Hickies are a favourite of March's - just the idea of other people seeing the marks he left on his partner while he fucked them is enough to get him hard. He's rather fond of leaving red handprints on their ass too, if they'll let him. March likes receiving marks just as much, too - scratch him, bite him... as long as he can keep the souvenir he's a happy man.

○ March prefers positions where he can look his partner in the eye. He likes watching their expressions as they react to every movement he makes. A personal favourite of his is holding his partner against a wall with their legs around his waist; though, he's in no way opposed to missionary or being ridden.

Hayden

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○ Hayden is the picture perfect romantic lover. He's 100% in it for the passion, emotion, and connection. He wants every time to be special and romantic because to him every time his partner allows him to be so close is special. Now, not every time is scented candles and rose petal pathways (sometimes they're daisies) but he does try to make his partner feel as loved as they truly are every time.

○ Hayden lives to give his partner head. While he's more than happy to get them off however they want, he has a borderline oral fixation. He could spend hours between his partners thighs quite happily. Honestly, if he's worked up enough, Hayden is liable to cum just from giving his partner head.

○ Hayden leans towards the more innocent-minded, and as such he doesn't think about sex crazy often on his own. That being said he's extremely easy to work up. Hayden is, physically speaking, extremely sensitive. He's strong and durable from working the farm, sure, but a few light touches to his inner thigh or a casual grind against him has him aching almost instantly. When he initiates its often much more thought out - spontaneity tends to lean to his partner's actions.

○ Hayden loves sex outdoors. Don't get me wrong: he's extremely private and not at all one for exhibitionism. There's just something about how connected he feels making love out in a beautiful natural spot that he can't get enough of, especially under the stars. Picnics at sunset at the edge of his farm often lead to him eating much more than snacks, so to speak.

○ Hayden is, to put it plainly, extremely loud. He has a hard time holding back vocally and, honestly, he doesn't want to. He loves letting his partner know how good they're making him feel - and he likes hearing them in turn. Between his outright moaning he loves to praise his partner for just about anything he can, and sometimes he'll even literally beg for his partner to move their hips just the way he likes, or to do that one thing with their tongue.

Ryis

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○ Ryis is extremely gentle. While he is very passionate, and quite strong, Ryis is also almost overly aware of those facts. As a result he treats his partners gently and loves them softly. He prefers a position that let's him kiss him partner and cup their face, and missionary is definitely a favourite.

○ While gentle, Ryis is also extremely handsy. He loves the feeling of soft skin under his work-worn fingers and its easy to tell whenever he's in the mood, since his hands begin wandering everywhere. If he can get a handful of it he's squeezing - thighs, tummy, tits, and especially ass... whatever his partner has that they're comfortable with him touching. Especially during.

○ Did someone say cockwarming? It was probably Ryis. That is to say, he's a big fan of having his partner just sit on his cock. Whether they're doing something else together trying to pretend not to be distracted, competing to see who moves first, or both, he's very much a fan.

○ Cat-and-mouse style flirting games are a favored part of foreplay for Ryis. Seeing who begs first, who cracks and touches the other... he has an insane amount of self-control, so Ryis usually wins. He's always just as happy when doesn't, though.

○ Ryis is extremely doting. Though he will tease a partner into asking for exactly what they want, he will absolutely deliver. Ultimately his partner ends up being quite spoiled - Ryis might talk big but he can't bring himself to say no to any way they want to be pleasured for the most part. He has a lot of stamina too, so he's able to keep up with even more insatiable partners well happily.

Eiland

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○ Eiland is extremely spontaneous as a partner. He's often so busy thinking about his work, archeological studies, and other similar things that other thoughts tend to come on almost of their own accord, sometimes at seemingly random times. A kiss in excitement after an exciting historical discovery turns into wandering hands, an innocent afternoon stroll has him and his partner hurrying home in a fit of giggles and flirty touches... that kind of thing.

○ Treating Eiland a little roughly turns him into putty. Light degradation, biting... if you pull his hair he's a gonner. That being said, he's rather obedient and aims to please so he can be a little sensitive, and definitely needs some aftercare if his partner is rough with him to reassure him he did a good job and you enjoyed it as much as he did.

○ Eiland loves being ridden. He's very visual, and the more he can see the more satisfied he'll be. Something about watching all of his partner while they bounce on top of him, being able to see them press his cock into them, sends him directly to space.

○ Eilands favourite place to be ridden is his office. Being given a (probably much needed) break from his studies in the form of sex on his desk is always welcome - and a thought he gets off to himself quite frequently. He's careful to keep any fragile or rare artifacts away from his main desk, just in case it's needed for other things.

○ Considering the above it's probably no surprise that Eiland gets off on a little risk. Sex in semi-public places in hidden away alcoves where they have to be quiet lest anyone pass too close and hear them really gets Eiland off - something about the impropriety of it. Once he's established with a partner he might just leave the door unlocked in hopes that they'll walk in when he's touching himself to the thought.

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A/N: This is my first time writing up headcanons in a long time, and it's been even longer since I've written smut. Hopefully you still enjoy❣️

If anyone would be interested in a Bachelorette version of this feel free to let me know.

Thanks for reading! 😊