#And I feel like it maybe should be talked about

[pathologicalreid]

card trick | s.r.

in which you broach a subject with Spencer that you're sure will be a dealbreaker - you don't want kids

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: child-free by choice, magic tricks, selfishness (like. reader thinks she's selfish), chemist!reader word count: 1.08k a/n: this was lowkey hard to write because i do in fact want kids myself and i'm such a dad!spencer truther. but there was some fun within the challenge!!! ily <3

“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked, watching as you braced yourself against the wall and kicked off your shoes, nudging them in the hallway until they were in place.

You hummed in response, “About what?” You inquired casually, proceeding to hand your coat on the rack and pull the sleeves of your sweater down. Avoiding his gaze, you bulldozed through to the kitchen, searching through the cabinets for an appropriate mug to make tea in.

He followed you to the kitchen, grabbing a mug and holding it out for you to take. You didn’t live here, but you knew your way around so well that someone might’ve gotten that idea. “Whatever it is that made you get so quiet tonight,” Spencer prodded, leaning over the kitchen counter and propping himself up.

Filtering through his tea collection, you faltered for a moment before continuing, picking a chamomile tea bag and flicking on the electric kettle. The two of you had just gotten back from dinner at Rossi’s, your second one since you and Spencer had started dating, where you watched Spencer spend hours doing magic tricks with Henry and Jack. You shook your head, watching the water in the kettle as it began to boil.

“Are you feeling alright?” Spencer asked, wondering if you had a physical ailment that was causing you to shut down. He had picked you up straight from work, maybe you were just exhausted.

This time you nodded, opening the wrapper for the tea bag and tossing the foil in the bin, “Yeah, long day,” you admitted, “Did you want tea?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, watching as you instinctively grabbed another mug and prepared a cup of tea for him as well. It was starting to get chilly outside, so a warm tea was likely to have healing properties, “Have I done something?”

Now, you ignored his question, grabbing the mugs and bringing them over to the coffee table. You sat on the couch, nestling yourself into the corner and pulling a knit blanket over your lap. In your periphery, you watched him sit on the opposite side of the couch, and it was beyond your control when you finally spoke up, “Do you want kids?”

“I’ve never really given it much thought,” he responded, and you nearly flinched at his answer, convinced he was lying to save your feelings.

You shifted on the couch, staring down into the murkiness of your tea, “What does that mean?”

He pressed his lips in a thin white line for a moment as if he were considering his options, “I’ve never really been in a relationship where that was a discussion to have, so I’ve never done an in-depth evaluation of whether or not I want kids of my own.” He set his mug down on the coffee table and turned to you, “But I take it you have.”

Slowly, you nodded, skimming the handle of your mug with the pad of your thumb, “I don’t want kids,” you whispered, closing your eyes as soon as the words were out there.

Spencer was quiet, and you were afraid that the finality in your voice would be the reason you lost him forever. No more BAU family dinners at Rossi’s. No more phone calls seeking help on a case. No more whispering nonsensical science puns to each other in the middle of the night when you should be asleep. You were surprised when he answered, “That’s okay with me.”

You lifted your head, craning your neck to the side so you could determine whether or not he was messing with you. Instead, earnest brown eyes stared back at you, “It is?”

He shrugged lightly, “Admittedly, I’m not too fond of the idea of choosing between a family and the BAU. I’ve seen enough wedges driven and bridges burned to know that that’s not something I want to experience first-hand.”

“It’s just never felt like the right thing for me,” you elaborated on your own feelings, still not convinced of his. “Sometimes I… I think I’m too selfish to be a mother,” you confessed, setting your mug down and pulling your knees to your chest. “I see people around me and the things they sacrifice for their children, and I don’t think that could ever be something I do, Spence. It’s not in the cards for me.”

Cocking his head at you, Spencer studied you for a moment, “If you don’t want to be a mother, then you don’t have to.”

Your eyes burned fiercely at his words, so shocked by his response to what had sent previous boyfriends running for the hills. “I think maybe you should take some time to think about this because you said you never have before,” you advised him cautiously, setting your chin on your knee.

He shook his head dismissively, “I don’t need to think about it. If it’s a choice between you and some hypothetical children, then it’s really no choice at all.”

Closing your eyes, you let tears fall freely down your cheeks, “I just don’t want you to wake up someday and resent me for not giving you children. I don’t want you to roll over in bed and think about how I’ve somehow failed you.”

It was that statement that prompted Spencer to reach out to you, he tenderly looped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I could never resent you for making a decision about yourself like that, do you understand?”

“You’re just so good with them,” you bemoaned, recalling the flashing images of Spencer doing card tricks for the kids and refusing to reveal his secrets to them.

Spencer smiled softly at you, “It’s easy when you don’t actually have to do the raising of the children. I’m more than comfortable with my title of godfather and uncle.”

“But what if you need more?” You asked desperately, still horrified by your hypothetical day where Spencer wakes up with hate in his heart.

His other arm looped around you, pulling you closer to him, “Trust me when I say this: you are more than enough for me.” He squeezed you gently, “I can be good with kids and be perfectly content with never having any of my own. Those two things can coexist.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you leaned your head onto his shoulder, “Thank you,” you breathed, silent tears still streaming down your cheeks only to be swept away by your boyfriend’s deft fingers.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Fishbowl Blues

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, talk about blood/injuries

Summary: You're more stressed and worried over Quinn's busted lip than he is.

Notes: I really hope we're all wrong when we're speculating that Quinn is feeling self conscious of his lip because he is handsome all the time, and he's too good a captain to feel self-conscious. I also hope he heals quickly because I bet its a bitch to eat with.

Also i'm on X-Mas holidays from teaching sooooo feel free to send me your Quinn (and maybe also Jack) thoughts.

You're right at the glass when it happens, a front row seat to the way the stick smashes into his face and the way Quinn slams into the ground in response. Your hands press to the glass urgently as you try to look around the bodies on the ice to see what the damage is. Even as the jumbtron jumps between filming him on the ice and filming you at the rink side. It's not the first time he's been injured on the ice, but usually he pops back up almost immediately, has a sarcastic word for the linesman or complaint and then continues on. Shrugs it off as if its nothing. A few bruises, a little cut, nothing more, nothing less.

Not today.

Today all you see is Quinn down on the ice for longer than he should be, a puddle of bright red, oxygenated blood contrasted against white ice. You push to the side until you can see him clearer as he pushes to his feet, mouth bleeding, hand pressed to cover it. Your eyes lock through the plexi, yours wide, worried, his grimacing in some sort of attempt to reassure you as he skates away across the ice and down the tunnel. It was not, in fact, very reassuring.

It's the worst 15 minutes of your life so far, you feel physically sick knowing you can't follow him, but wanting desperately to, to know if he's okay. Your mind thinking up 101 different possibilities for how damaged he might be. Had he lost teeth? Was it his lip that was split? Was his nose broken? A jaw? A cheekbone?

When he finally skates back out on the ice, fishbowl on, you're worry dials back a step or you think it does, that underlying buzz is still there under your skin. You no longer feel sick as you watch him skate confidently across the ice, score a goal and keep pushing through the rest of the game. The worry doesn't disappear entirely though, you're still unsure what the damage is, but know its enough for them to want him to cover his face from any more harm.

You also know your boyfriend, you know what he's like. He'd keep playing even if his arm was hanging off, it's just the way he is, so the fact he's skating fine doesn't actually reassure you. If anything it worries you more that he's hiding how hurt he is.

When the game ends you're one of the first to rush to the locker room, bouncing on the balls of your feet with nervous energy until you see him. Beanie back in place to cover his curls, suit more rumpled than it was when he arrived at the arena hours prior.

"Quinn..." The buzz of anxiety and adrenaline comes back full force under your skin, your hands shaking as your leg bounces.

"I'm okay..." It's mumbled, barely audible, he winces at the pull on his lip as he tries to talk, stitches stark against his lip. He's swollen, bruised, and clearly in pain but still tries to reassure you as you gently cup his face in your hands. He doesn't want you to worry, can see it in your face, the way our hands shake as they hold him so gently like he might actually break apart from a single touch. He hates it, hates feeling so fragile when he's normally your rock.

"Stop talking, you're going to pull your stitches." You scold him even as your eyes well with tears at how painful it looks. His chuckle at your teacher voice coming out quickly cut off by a hiss of pain, stopped short before it can grow. It's worse than you thought, his lip split in two, held together by a line of stitches. There's bruising under his nose, across his cupids bow and his mouth is swollen to the point where even that looks sore.

He wants to reassure you but talking hurts and he knows you just need to fuss over him, so he lets you brush your thumbs across his cheeks, lets you kiss his nose and chin gently. He lets you lead him out to the car, but refuses to let you carry his equipment.

"I'm driving," you hold your hand out expectantly, waiting for the keys, and he just raises a brow before opening the passenger side door, holding it open for you and waiting. He loves you, but he's not incapable of driving and as much as he'll support your fussing to a point, he'll draw the line here. Especially when he can see you're still shaking as much as you try to hide it.

"Quinn, you got the shit beat out of your face, just let me drive home!" Your hands make their way to your hips, brown furrowed as you glare at him. He can imagine that's the same look you give your high school students when they're being particularly difficult, but it's not working on him.

"No, not happening. Get in, sweetheart." It still hurts to talk and maybe he's a bit quiet with it, trying to move his lip as little as possible, but he's not spending the next god knows how long mute.

"Quinn..." The worry on your face is so clear that he almost considers giving in, you're nervous, you're worried, hell, he might even say you're scared. But, he knows he's okay, or at least, okay enough to drive. He's trying not to think about brushing his teeth or eating dinner right now. Fuck, he just wants a burger and he knows that's an impossibility...or some salty fries...fuck.

"I split my lip. I'm not an invalid." It's the shortness of his tone, the annoyance starting to breach the surface that has you giving in. You want to fuss, but you can see it, this is the hill he'll die on and you can compromise on this. For him. You can compromise for him, if it helps him keep a sense of strength, a sense of masculinity after a shitty day.

"Okay..." you slip into the passenger seat and let him do your seatbelt for you, knowing he needs to feel useful and not being entirely sure you'd manage with how much your hands are shaking. You try not to watch him as he drives, but still find yourself looking from the corner of your eye. You catch each wince, each grimace and it only makes it harder for you not to fuss. Makes that panic in your chest start to rise again as the minutes tick by, the drive feeling so much longer than it is.

Still, you resist talking, resist fussing, even as you can feel the tears welling again because fuck, you'd been absolutely terrified tonight. It's as Quinn pulls into his parking spot that your head presses back into the headrest behind you, eyes blinking back tears as you stare the roof of the car. Hands clenching and unclenching in fists in your lap as you try to will the tears back.

He's watching you from your peripheral vision, hand reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear, even as you bite your lip hard to try to keep the tears at bay. You fail absolutely spectacularly.

The tears come streaming thick and fast down your cheeks, quicker than you can brush them away as you start burbling on. The fear, the worry, the anxiety and stress of the game finally boiling over in the safety of the parking garage.

"This is so stupid, you're the one who got hurt...you s-should be crying, n-not me." You feel ridiculous, even as you can't stop the tears from coming, "why am I c-crying, this...this is s-so s-s-stupid..."

If it's possible it makes Quinn love you even more, the way you love him so much that a high stick to the face has you more stressed out than him. He doesn't love the tears, but fuck, he loves how much you care.

"Hey, hey..." it's a soft murmur, interspersed with a few hisses of pain which don't help your tears any, even as he pulls your face towards his, fingers brushing the tears from your cheeks and rubbing softly across your bottom lip which you've bitten nearly to bleeding point. "It's okay, i'm okay...eating'll suck for a while and fuck, i'm going to miss kissing you, but i'm okay, baby..." He actually might be most upset about the fact he can't kiss you when he comes to think of it. He can handle soup for weeks, can handle mint toothpaste stinging his lip, but not kissing you? An actual crime against him.

"B-but, what...what i-if you..." You're stopped in your tracks by him lightly smushing your cheeks together.

"No. No...we're not doing what ifs, not happening, sweetheart, okay?" He lets your face go, fingers combing through your hair, brushing gently across your forehead and down your jaw.

"I..." you're still inhaling sharply with every word, almost hiccuping, the panic still there, if slowly easing down. He hates it, that you're this upset over it. It makes him want to wear a stupid bubble all the time, just to avoid how you're looking at him right now.

"Look at me." There's a pause where he waits for your breath to ease a little, the sharp inhales starting to smooth out with each brush of his fingers , "I'm okay and i'll be okay next game and the next and the next...sure i'm about to get reallllll grumpy without being able to kiss you and, sure, i'm going to be a pain in your ass for a few weeks, but that's not worth your tears, baby."

"I c-can...I can still kiss you though, right?" It makes him huff out a laugh, the way your wet, wide eyes look at him like you're only just realising that you too are going to be punished without kisses from Quinn for weeks.

"Yeah, baby, just, avoid the lips, yeah?"

"O..okay, I can do that." You nod your head to yourself as if you're considering the logistics of it all, which you are. You're contemplating all the places you can kiss him pain free: his forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, chin...

Quinn watches you for a minute, the redness of your eyes, the way your chest has stopped heaving and for a minute he forgets it all.

"Let's go instead, yeah? I'm okay."

It's quiet, the way you sort yourselves out for the evening. You potter about to reheat some soup you made the other day for him, while he changes into comfy clothes. You eat quietly together, you watching him intently as he eats, every wince noted but the panic isn't there this time. You can breathe, you still hate the fact he's hurt, but the feeling of impending doom is gone, the dread, the fear, it's been eased by his insistance that he's okay.

Quinn navigates brushing his teeth, it takes him twice as long because of how careful he has to be, but he manages. Finally, lying down next to you and pulling you into his arms feels like a reward. The way you curl into him, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder and jaw as you tuck your head under his chin, it makes him feel normal for the first time since he took a hockey stick to the face.

The remaining adrenaline of the day slips away with every rub of his palm against your back, every rise and fall of his chest underneath you, every steady thump of his heart. He's okay, and maybe you're scared he won't be next time, but you knew what you signed up for when you started dating a hockey player. Besides, he's worth every single second of fear.

[thefreakandthehair]

ornament.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: ornament | wc: 999 | rating: teen & up | tags: eddie pov, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, the party, steve's nuggets (+ friends) love him so much, fluff, tree decorating, getting together

Eddie’s sitting on the couch with sweaty palms between Nancy and Steve with Robin to Steve’s right while the kids, including Will and El who’ve moved back to Indiana permanently, sit in a poorly constructed circle near the Christmas tree. 

The tree Steve hates. 

The reason Eddie’s palms are sweating. 

“I just hate this thing,” Steve had sighed as he flicked on the pre-lit white lights. “When I was a kid, I’d beg for the colored lights and when I’d make ornaments in school, mom would give me this polite smile and then I’d never see them on the tree anywhere. It’s always these stupid red and silver bulbs.”

It hadn’t taken much for Eddie to rally their friends and host an ornament painting party, everyone crammed into his trailer under threat of death if they blew the surprise, but now that’s it’s here, Eddie kind of wants to run and hide. 

What if he hates it? What if he thinks it’s stupid? 

Nancy knocks a knee against his and raises her eyebrows with a quiet smirk. Eddie nods, just one quick jerk of his chin, as his heart clatters in his chest and Nancy excuses herself. It’s telling, probably, that Eddie couldn’t keep the box of ornaments at his trailer because Steve spends too much there with him but Eddie’s too busy wiping his palms on the rough denim of his jeans to unpack that at the moment. 

“Where’s she going?” Steve asks. 

“We don’t need permission to go to the bathroom, do we?” Robin teases, uncharacteristically smooth in her distraction. 

Steve’s too busy needling her back to realize the front door opens and shuts, at least until Nancy comes back in with the shoebox she’d helped Eddie wrap.

“Oh my God, yes!” Dustin pipes up, spotting Nancy and whacking Lucas on the back. “Look!” 

“What—” Steve looks around in confusion, mainly down at the box that’s plopped in his lap. “What’s happening?” 

“Tell him, Eddie!” Max grins at Eddie, always a little too smart and observant for her own good. Or Eddie’s, for that matter. 

“Uh,” he stutters. “Well, we wanted to do something I guess, special? For you? It’s really nothing big but—”

“Will you stop underselling it?” Robin laughs. “It took me days to get that paint off my fingers. It was a big thing!” 

“Paint? What are you talking about?” Steve asks again, huffing. “None of your presents are ready yet, so we can put this under the tree or something and then—”

“Nope, you need this before Christmas. That’s the whole point,” Nancy chides, sitting back down next to Eddie. “Right, Eddie?”

“Yeah,” he nods, meeting Steve’s eyes with a blistering vulnerability he’s sure Steve can see, can maybe even feel with his thigh pressed against Eddie’s. “You should open it.” 

“Alright, alright,” Steve agrees, sliding a finger beneath the neatly folded paper, peeling back the tape and tossing the wrapping paper to the ground. “Did you guys get me new shoes?” 

“Just open it!” Robin snorts beside him and elbows him gently in the stomach. 

Eddie holds his breath and hopes he doesn’t pass out as Steve lifts the lid and finds the handmade ornaments carefully placed in the box. 

On top of strands of multi-colored lights sit a dozen ornaments with tiny hooks ready to be hung on branches. Lucas’ sits on top, painted to look like a basketball. Max’s is made to look like the nail bat he’d once used to save her life. Robin’s is an ice cream scoop with an anchor painted dead center. Dustin’s looks like a can of hairspray which Eddie still doesn’t completely understand but Dustin assured him that Steve would get it. Jonathan and Argyle’s pizza ornament, mailed from California. One after another, Steve pulls out ornament after ornament with splotchy paint by the people who love Steve more than they’ll ever begin to express. 

It’s silent and loud all at once as Eddie watches Steve pick each one up and run his fingers along the imperfections, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose before he speaks. 

“You… you guys make these?” Steve finally asks; soft, hushed. 

“We did!” El offers with a cheery smile. “It was Eddie’s idea.” 

“Holy shit, this is…” Steve whips over to Eddie, and any nerves he has disappear. He can’t possibly hate it, can’t possibly think it’s stupid when he’s smiling ear to ear, his nose wrinkling from the force of it before he chokes out a laugh that sounds almost like a sob. “Thank you.”

Eddie swallows and feels the heat creeping from beneath his jacket collar. He shrugs and bumps their shoulders together, nods at the kids across the room. “They’re all such great little artists, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t speak for long seconds, staring directly at Eddie until Max, menace that she is, speaks up. 

“You guys can kiss after, okay? Can we decorate the tree now?” 

Oh, she’s never getting a ride to school from him again. 

“Okay, everyone come grab an ornament!” Robin claps her hands together and pats Steve on the back, winking at Eddie as she stands up. 

Neither Eddie nor Steve move.

At least, not until the kids have their backs turned with Robin and Nancy trying their hardest to wrangle the kids into wrapping the lights around the tree. Steve leans over, Eddie’s impression of the vest he’d once thrown at Steve— the same vest that tethered Eddie to life as he’d gripped it with bloody fingers while Steve carried him out of the Upside Down— resting in his palm. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Steve whispers, the back of his hand landing on Eddie’s thigh. “Seriously. I can’t tell you… this means a lot, man.” 

“They love you, Harrington,” Eddie tries for subtlety but that’s never been his strong suit. “We all do.”

“C’mon,” Steve nods at the tree, his smile reaching his eyes. “The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can prove Max right.” 

[pomefioredove]

Just want to say I LOVE your writing and just spotted your event. If you’re still open could I please have 16 sugar cookies with frosting, chocolate chips, and marshmallows? (Gosh that sounds good, now I want to bake)

Hope you’re well and staying warm!

AWW THANK YOU. rounding my savanaclaw day out w this one

order #16, sugar with frosting, marshmallows, and chocolate chips

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ enjoy yourself

tropes: fake dating, only one bed, roommates AU characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, making out, a little suggestive, brief mention of hypothetical children but no mention of how the children come to be, etc word count: 700

"Nothing is going to happen,"

That was the first, and only thing Leona had said all evening.

He hadn't greeted his family at the door of the palace. He had let you do all the talking at dinner. He hadn't said a word since he gave you a briefing on his family that afternoon, before you left school.

"And don't mess this up," was the very last thing he told you.

Until now.

You look at him. On the crisp bedsheets, every little movement makes a sound. Especially with how quiet the room is.

"I know,"

"Just making sure you didn't get any funny ideas,"

The thought of having to spend the entire summer like this, with a stiff and silent and unhappy Leona, is scary.

Maybe you should've taken your chances with Crowley...

...But, when Leona came to you with an idea- you pretend to be his partner to piss off his family, he gives you a place to stay- you couldn't have refused.

"I think it's a little unfair that Grim gets his own room," you mutter.

Leona snorts. "Unfair is an understatement. But, hey, we're "dating", remember? It woulda been weird to request separate sleeping accommodations,"

You sigh. He's right, as always.

"Besides," he continues, his eyes narrowing. "You heard what they said at dinner."

You really wish he'd stop bringing that up. The memory of that, his sister-in-law's sweet smile as she suggested you two give Cheka a cousin to play with, makes you shudder.

"It was... a joke," you say.

"You know it wasn't,"

Again, he's right. Or maybe he's just honest. You sigh.

"I don't know if I can handle this all summer,"

Leona turns on his side with a smug smile, looking down at you. "Imagine how I feel. I'm related to these people,"

"Now are you happy I warned you before we left school? You're lucky you're so damn pitiful, or I wouldn't have said a thing and had a show with dinner, too."

You stick out your tongue at him, but you are grateful.

When he said they could be overbearing, you thought that was just Leona being Leona.

"They weren't supposed to like me,"

He sighs. "Tell me about it. I even fail at disappointing them,"

You sigh with him. Not even a day in the palace, and his idea was crumbling into sand and falling at your feet. His family was supposed to dislike you- the poor, magicless commoner from a place no one had even heard of.

They were supposed to awkwardly avoid you for the rest of the summer, and give both you and Leona some peace.

Instead, Falena was taken with your intelligence, you charmed his wife, and Cheka has been begging you to play with him all day.

"Well, this blows," Leona mutters, breaking the silence.

"Should we make out?"

Way to ruin the somber mood.

You shoot up in bed, eyes wide. "You JUST SAID nothing was going to happen!"

Leona scoffs, though there's an obvious smirk playing on his lips, as if he's trying and failing to be annoyed with your overblown reaction. He sits up with you.

"Relax. I was kidding,"

"Were you?"

"I was,"

You stare at each other for a moment longer, his eyes travelling across your face, his lips still curved into a smirk.

And then he closes the distance between you in the dark room and kisses you.

Once the shock has worn off and you can feel your soul re-entering your body, you kiss back. His hands rest on your waist, and then your hips, and then he's pulling you towards him with such ferocity that you end up on your back beneath him, expensive blankets thrown to the side.

You kiss in a way that you would dare not admit to anyone outside of the walls of his room, and after a few minutes, he pulls away, leaving you a breathless mess on the bed.

"Hm," he hums, running his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping up the spit that had collected there.

"...I don't know about you, but if we're going to be stuck in this room together for the whole summer, I think we should at least enjoy ourselves, hm?"

[genderqueerdykes]

Can we please have a discussion about the infantilization  of asexual people, a lot of people talk about the “cold mean heartless” asexual stereotypes but not enough about the “silly guy who doesn’t know what sex is and loves garlic bread and acts weirdly like a child”

Like, I’m 25. I know what a penis is, and if I ask you what something sexual means it’s not because I’m asexual it’s because I have low empathy and impaired social skills and don’t really read between the lines.

I actually had someone who thought asexual people couldn’t experience sexual arousel at all, motherfucker literally asked “wait what would happen if you were to take viagra since asexual people can’t get horny???”

Maybe I’m being a bastard and am making a situation out of nothing, but it just… bothers me? I am a adult, I don’t experience sexual attraction, I am very much on the “repulsed” spectrum and don’t want sex and will never have sex ever. But I’m a 25 year old man (possibly agender, adult nevertheless) it kind of feels dehumanizing.

Sorry for bad English, English is my 2nd language

it's exhausting like. it's very insulting to assume an asexual person is literally closed off from or innately repulsed by the very concept of sex and sexuality existing. ace people are going to have an understanding of sexual health to a degree by virtue of being a person. it's really weird to treat asexuals like closeted sheltered babies who don't know anything about the world, especially things they may not like. it's very infantilising as you've mentioned

asexuals should not be questioned or forced into acting like they don't know anything about sex at all, or are repulsed by the existence of sex and sexuality. most ace people are aware, they just may not want to talk about it. it's exhausting. i understand where you're coming from, it's ridiculous. people are so rude when it comes to asexuality

[vanillasweetpie]

spudsy’s shifts and dumbass rabbits (jax x reader)

i watched episode 4 and couldn’t resist writing this lil silly fic because i hate jax <3

you swear you’re gonna kill him.  

you don’t even care what happens after that, Caine can throw you in the void or force you into a therapy session with him, or whatever horrifying punishment his ai brain comes up with. it’d be worth it. it’d be so worth it if it meant shutting Jax up for five goddamn minutes. 

he’s been sitting at the counter, feet kicked up onto the register looking like he’s on fucking vacation, while you scramble around Spudsy’s kitchen. the fryer’s spitting oil, the soda machine’s doing that weird gurgling thing again

and Jax does nothing all shift except make snide comments about your “technique”, pretending to be Gordon Ramsay trapped in a rabbit’s body.  

“you’re gonna burn them,” he drawls, spinning one of the ketchup bottles like it’s a fidget toy, watching you flipping the fries.

you slam the fryer basket down harder than necessary and whirl around to glare at him. “maybe if you got off your lazy ass and helped, they’d come out looking better.”  

Jax snickers, tilting his head back to look at you upside-down. his ears flop over the back of the chair, and he grins widely. “nah, why would I do that when you’re doing such a great job on your own?”  

“Jax, I swear to #@?!—”  

“language, language!” he interrupts, wagging a finger at you. “what would Caine think if he heard you talking like that?”  

you grab the nearest ketchup bottle and launch it at him. and honestly, it’s more satisfying than it should be when it hits him square in the chest, splattering his black uniform with bright red.  

“oh, wow.” he looks down at the mess and then up at you, opening his eyes wide in fake surprise. “was that supposed to hurt my feelings? because it’s just pathetic, sweetie, really.”  

“pathetic?!” you’re halfway across the counter before you even realise what you’re doing, hands grabbing at his stupid clothes to yank him closer, practically face to face, however this damn bastard is taller than you, but you don’t back down.

Jax doesn’t fight it. in fact, he leans into it, daring you to say something else.

his stupid sharp smile only growing wider. “aww, isn’t it romantic. you’re starting to sound so obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“obsessed with killing you, maybe.” your grip tightens on his shirt. Jax’s smile fades for a moment and his ears twitch what makes you think he might actually shut up.  

but no. of course not.  

“if i knew getting you riled up was this easy, I’d’ve started weeks ago,” his tone is so insufferably casual that you’re losing your temper.

you shove him back, harder than you meant to and he stumbles, nearly tripping over the chair he’s been lounging in all shift. you expect him to snap at you or at least throw some sarcastic quip your way, but instead—  

he laughs.

it throws you off just long enough for him to close the distance between you, his hands catching yours before you can storm off.  

“hey, you’ve got a little ketchup—” Jax swipes a gloved finger across your cheek, smudging red sauce where there definitely wasn’t any before “—right there.”  

you glare at him, opening your mouth to yell, but before you can say anything, he leans down and—  

oh.

it’s quick. as if he’s testing the waters, but the kiss leaves you frozen in place. his grin is back in full force when he pulls away, his eyes half-lidded. you stand there, dumbfounded, looking at his infuriatingly pleased face. the fryer beeps in the background and the soda machine gurgles again.

“there. now we’re even,” he says, stepping back and slipping out of your reach before you can punch him in the face.  

“you’re such a—”  

“Jax! y/n! get back to work!” Gangle's voice sounds.

you fucking hate him. probably.

[dem-bones]

I feel like some metaphors got mixed up. Like the original point I feel wasn’t “you should only make cakes for people and they owe you validation” As a writer nothing will stop me from creating and writing, I have often written self indulgent things that will never see AO3 or anyone else’s eyes. Yet when I post on AO3 I want engagement.

I think any hobby needs a community of a sort. Like I think it’s less about validation and more about engaging with a community and expecting it to engage back. Of course you should create for yourself, and when you share with the relevant community you should also get some engagement. Maybe the original string of posts didn’t quite capture it.

It’s like you throw a party for a group of people who are very into cake and have talked about wanting more cake and publicly encourage people to make new interesting cakes for them to try and THEN OPs first couple of posts happen.

current fan creation landscape is kinda like if you went to a party with a homemade cake and everyone takes a slice and silently thumbs up at you with no attempt to start a conversation except for occasionally some guy sits in the corner with a tape recorder critiquing the cake as though he was a restaurant critic and another guy is handing the cake to an uber driver like "yeah i need you to find a restaurant that makes cake like this so i can have more of it" and the only person that's talked to you in 30 minutes is a very sweet little guy who was like "hey i liked your cake" and then ran away apologizing for bothering you the moment you said thank you.

[na0koz]

HIII

Your thoughts on S/O reader meeting jinx’s family (vander, vi, mylo and claggor if they’re alive, etc) and how that would go?

helloo ty for the req, i just included vi and vander in this. hope that’s ok! though, i feel like i didn’t really tap into jinx’s toxic-ness in this, just her pretending to hate vi and acting like a teenager. sorry u guys.

toxic!jinx masterlist

vi had accidentally let slip to vander that jinx had met someone over their ‘family dinner’ (jinx really hated when vander called it that, it’s just dinner).

since then, vander had been pestering jinx for weeks trying to get her to bring you round to one of these stupid dinners. she shut him down every time saying you were busy. you definitely weren’t, vi could guess that much. she’s been here before, with her ex.

finally, jinx agrees to bring you over for dinner.

jinx tells vander what you like to eat, in a strange amount of detail, and he cooks it. he can’t say he’s not trying to make a good impression on you.

she decides it’s best for her to go pick you up from your apartment, and once you reach the front door, she grabs your wrist as your reach for the doorknob. “my family is weird, okay. just like, ignore whatever they say. about me.”

her grip on your wrist is tight, and her gaze steady. you can tell jinx is nervous.

“it’s okay, baby. i’m sure they’re not weird,” you reassure her.

she furrows her brows slightly. she’s having second thoughts on this, maybe you should just go home. jinx is pulled from her thoughts when the front door swings open and she sees her sister standing on the mat in front of the door.

“why are you just standing here? looks real weird, y’know,” the pink haired girl says as she leans on the frame.

“ugh, shut up, vi.” jinx says in a lowered tone, one that already sounds annoyed. she pushes past her sister and drags you inside, still gripping your wrist.

as you take off your shoes and hang up your coat, you hear a gruff voice from above you.

“i’m vi. nice to, uh.. meet you.”

you smile up at the unfamiliar face and introduce yourself in return. then you hear jinx scoffing and saying something along the lines of “get off me!” as you look over to see who must be her dad taking his hands off her shoulders while chuckling.

“hey. i’m vander, p- jinx’s dad, it’s nice to finally meet you.” he smiles a warm smile, one which you reciprocate. you wonder what he was about to say before he said jinx’s name, but you think it’s best to leave it when you look over to jinx and see her giving vander a mean look.

-

dinner was finally ready and you go to sit at the table. vi usually sits next to jinx, but jinx runs to the table to kick vi out of the way so you could sit in her place. vi sighs and sits opposite her while vander laughs to himself, setting dishes over the table.

the four of you eat in silence for a bit, before vi pipes up with a smirk on her face.

“you’re literally the only thing jinx talks about, y’know.”

jinx exclaims. “huh?!! not true! bitch.” she kicks vi as hard as she can.

vi kicks her back. “you’re the bitch, stealing money out of my wallet to buy god knows what.”

“i did not!” jinx stands up from her seat. you swear her eyes flash a hot pink when she gets worked up.

“girls.” vander intervenes, “sorry, [name].”

you tell him it’s okay and giggle into your food.

jinx turns to you and tells you that vi is totally lying and you shouldn’t believe anything she says, that she’s a pathological liar.

“uh huh,” you nod, side eyeing vi with a grin as jinx flops back down into her chair. you know it’s hers because it has her name carved into it, along with some pink and blue paint splotches. it’s no secret how possessive she is.

you all continue eating while chatting and getting to know each other, vi and jinx occasionally at each other’s necks as you and vander give each other apologetic looks.

a few hours pass, and you’re getting ready to leave what you deem a successful meet-the-family while pulling your shoes on. jinx is doing the same.

“aww sis, you’re not staying over?” vi says sarcastically, dodging a kick from jinx.

“nope. i’d rather be with [name] than you two fuckers.”

“language, missy,” vander chimes in from the kitchen as he finishes up the last of the cleaning before making his way into the hall to see you off.

“just ‘cus you’re in loooove with her,” vi sings, shoving jinx’s shoulder. she’s stepped over the line now, and jinx practically pounces on her, pulling her hair and smacking her.

vander mutters to himself and pulls jinx off her sister by the back of her jacket, much to her dismay. (“get the fuck off me!”)

she scoffs and pulls her other boot on, while you giggle to vi who was brushing herself off.

“it was nice to meet you.”

“you too, vander. thank you for dinner,” you smile.

jinx reaches for your hand and the doorknob simultaneously. “yeah, yeah. whatever.” she pulls you out of the house and very nearly slams the door behind her.

she sighs hard and slumps onto your shoulder as the two of you start to walk home.

“i did not like that.”

“yeah, i could tell,” you laugh.

[hanniebaeee]

Mr. CEO

Chris Bang x fem!reader

Warnings: Extremely adorable Hyunjin - other than that, nothing.

Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufff

Summary: Chris Bang shouldn't be feeling anything for you - you're only an employee in his company. But a very pretty and extremely brilliant one. And Chris is head over heels in love with you. And then there is Hyunjin - your best friend.

Chris didn’t know when it started, exactly. He's seen you during meetings and things a lot, especially since his new office was on your floor and he had a nice clear view of your seat.

He knew you were smart and really good at your job. He didn't really dwell on a pretty face, that's not him. Until one day, he saw you laugh. 

It wasn’t just a polite chuckle or a giggle. No, this was you - head thrown back, cheeks flushed, and laughter bubbling out like you in the purest form. You were leaning against Hyunjin, as usual, your hand casually resting on his thigh while his head bumped against yours as he laughed with you.

Chris froze.

He felt a sudden tightness in his chest - you were breathtakingly beautiful. How did he not see that before? But along with that crept up something else - an inexplicable irritation at seeing how comfortable you were with Hyunjin.

He didn’t have anything against Hyunjin. The guy was a genius, even if he was a little too loud and touchy for Chris’s taste. But the way you leaned into him? The way Hyunjin’s smile was just for you? It screamed couple. 

Chris tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. You were off-limits. Clearly taken. Clearly happy. 

But none of that helped him stop his train of thoughts about how good you looked when you're concentrating on something. Head tilted, exposing the delicate line of your neck. Or the way you gave him a small smile or a nod when you passed him in the hallway. 

It was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. But the more he tried to shove his thoughts aside, the more they clung to him like a curse.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself. “She’s with Hyunjin. You’re her boss. She’s off-limits.”

The worst part? You were completely so lost in Hyunjin, you didn't have a chance to notice your boss's slow agonizing downfall. Imagine walking into the lobby and seeing Hyunjin tying your damn scarf for you one evening because “it’s cold, you dummy.”

Chris wanted to punch a wall. Or Hyunjin. Or himself, even.

So, it's only natural that when he overheard two girls talking about you and Hyunjin, he stopped short.

“I just don’t get it,” one of them was whispering.  “How are they not dating?”

Chris froze, his hand hovering over the coffee pot.

“I know, right?” another voice said. “I’d bet money they’re secretly together.”

“I mean, come on. It’s so obvious.”

“I dunno, Hyunjin says they’re just best friends. And yet he turned me down.”

Chris blinked. So you weren't dating?

His heart did something stupid - like a backflip or maybe a somersault - and for the first time in months, he allowed himself to hope.

So the next thing he did was procrastinate. For weeks - just dying on the inside a little bit every time you did something that made Hyunjin drape himself over you. But then, enough was enough and he decided it was time to get to the bottom of this. 

Chris didn’t breathe a word all day. Not while he watched you work. Not when you bickered with Hyunjin over lunch about that questionable mush he was eating (it was disgusting, in his opinion, but he wasn’t about to wade into that battle). And not when you breezed past him later that day, looking miffed, muttering a quick hello on your way.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, Chris had convinced himself he was going to die if he didn’t say something.

He caught you in the hallway, calling your name. You paused, bag slung over your shoulder.

“Yeah, boss?”

Chris winced. That title was a cruel reminder of how completely out of his league you should be. But there was little respect in the way you said it. He knew you were teasing him.

But he’d come this far.

“I-” He cleared his throat. God, why was this so hard? He made multi-million-dollar deals without breaking a sweat.

This? This was excruciating.

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head like you were about to tease him again. He racked his brain for a good enough line to throw your way. How do you ask girls out? Has he never done this before? Oh sorry, no. He was busy becoming a CEO. 

“I like you.” There. He said it.

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then your lips parted as if you were about to say something, but nothing came out.

“I mean, I more than like you. I-” He ran a hand through his hair, looking absolutely terrified. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for months, and I know I’m your boss, and this is probably wildly inappropriate. Oh my God, is this workplace harassment? I don't mean to…but I can’t-”

He was freaking out.

“Chris.”

Your voice was soft, but it stopped his rant instantly.

You took a step closer, a small smile appearing on your face now.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re in love with me?” you asked, and Chris faltered.

He exhaled sharply, like the word itself had taken the wind out of him. “Yeah.”

You just stared at him, and for a horrifying moment, he thought he’d completely misread everything. Maybe he’d just ruined everything. You were going to report him. His mum was going to kill him. 

“Pick me up at seven on Friday.”

Chris blinked. “What?”

“For our date,” you said, your grin widening. “I'll text you my address.”

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

“Yeah.. Wha-” He was dying. 

You laughed, and said, “You heard me, boss. Don’t be late.”

And with that, you walked out, leaving Chris standing there like an idiot, his heart pounding in his chest and his cheeks burning. He walked back to his office like a zombie, and sat down in his chair, staring blankly at his desk.

He had a date with you. You liked him back.

“Holy shit,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.

As soon as you stepped out of the office, your heart still hammering from Chris’s confession, you quickly called Hyunjin, your hands shaking uncontrollably. He picked up on the first ring.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to emotionally dump all over me?” His voice had immediate calming effects on you. 

“Get your skinny ass outside,” you hissed into the phone. “Right now.”

Two minutes later, Hyunjin was striding out of the building, his tie loosened. 

“Are you ok-”

“He asked me out.”

Hyunjin stopped mid-step, blinking. “What, who?”

“Christopher Bang!” you burst out, your hands flailing. “He just - he said he likes me, and and and-”

Hyunjin’s mouth dropped open and you grip at his warm hands with your icy ones.

“Are you kidding me?” he howled, his eyes flashing with excitement. “I knew it! I told you he had the hots for you! I told you! And you were all, ‘No, Hyunjin, he’s just my boss. He doesn’t like me like that.’”

You narrow your eyes at the way he was imitating you and smack his shoulder.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Now tell me everything. Was it romantic? Did he stutter? Please tell me he stuttered.”

“Hyunjin!”

---

Chris arrived to pick you up for your date at 7:00 PM, sharp. He looked devastatingly handsome in a tailored black suit, his perfectly styled hair gleaming under the soft light of the porch. And he held out a massive bouquet of the deepest red roses you’d ever seen.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but so deep, that it had your heart fluttering.

“Hi,” you breathed, trying to ignore the way your stomach was doing all kinds of flips.

He held the bouquet towards you, his cheeks tinged with the faintest pink.

“Thank you, Chris” You said, taking them and inhaling the sweet scent.

His lips quirked into a tiny smirk, the kind that made you want to kiss it right off his face. He stepped inside and watched as you put the flowers in a vase real quick, before turning to him and saying, “Let’s go, Mr. CEO.”

And just as you thought, it was truly unforgettable. Chris was the perfect gentleman - engaging, funny, and so incredibly attentive that it was hard to believe this was the same man who struck fear into the hearts of board members. And every time you caught him staring at you with those soft, adoring eyes, you felt your heart race.

And the best part? Watching this big, muscled man melt into a puddle every time you smiled at him.

By the time he pulled up in front of your apartment, and walked you to your door, you know the poor man is doing his best to behave.

“Well,” he said, his voice a little husky, “I had a great time tonight.”

“Me too,” you replied, your cheeks warming under his gaze.

There was a beat of silence, and you could see his fingers twitching at his sides, his lips parting like he was about to say something, but then he didn’t.

“Chris?” you said finally.

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to do everything myself?”

His eyes widened, freezing for a moment before he surged forward, his hands cupping your face as his lips claimed yours. And oh, it was worth the wait.

Chris kissed you like a man starved. Like he’d been holding back for so long. His lips were so warm and firm but gentle, his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer.

When you finally pulled away, he gazed at you with so much love. And then you're both giggling breathlessly.

---

After Chris left, you barely had time to change your clothes before your doorbell rang. For a second you thought it's him again, but you opened the door to find Hyunjin standing there, a tub of ice cream in one hand.

He pushed past you into your warm living room, saying, “Don’t mind me, I’m just here for the juicy details.”

“Jinnie!” You watched him wander into your kitchen, and come back with two spoons. 

“What?” He plopped onto your couch, already digging in. “Spill. I need to know everything”

You groaned, but still took the spoon from him and sat next to him.

“So?”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips as you said, “It was perfect.”

Hyunjin gasped dramatically, clutching his chest.

“Oh my God!” he wailed. “My bestie and the CEO!”

“Shut up!” You laughed, trying to shove him off the couch, but he just tackled you into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you,” he said, his voice softer now. “Really.”

You couldn’t help but smile, because you're really happy, and you hug him tightly.

Being in a relationship with the CEO was one thing. But maintaining professionalism, and a strict distance sometimes got so hard. Especially when he was thirsty as hell. 

You were doing quite well actually. But unfortunately for you, the biggest threat to your secret wasn’t the HR or prying coworkers or even Chris's lack of self control. It was your best friend and ultimate menace, Hyunjin.

He enjoyed tormenting Chris. He basically lived for it. It started out of nowhere with Hyunjin strolling into work one morning, a coffee mug in one hand and a mischievous grin on his ridiculously pretty face. He dropped into his seat and said, “You look guilty. Did you do something naughty with Mr. -?”

Your head snapped up and you glared daggers at him, hissing, “Hyunjin, for the love of God, lower your voice!”

“Relax.” He waved a hand, laughing. “Nobody cares. Well, except me, of course. Because watching your boyfriend go green with jealousy is my favorite pastime.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Shush!”

Before you could shoo this menace away, your phone buzzed on the desk. Hyunjin leaned over at the speed of light before you could hide the screen. His eyes widened as he read the notification.

Chris: What are the chances I can get out of that dress in 15 minutes? I have some time before my next meeting. And, my office is soundproof.

You choked on your coffee, fumbling with the phone to swipe the notification away. Hyunjin gagged audibly, clutching his chest.

“Oh my god. EWWW.” he cried and you slapped your hand on his mouth to shut him up. 

Chris's office door swung open, and there stood Chris, his eyes zeroing in on your hand pressed to his mouth, his jaw tightening. He is by your seat in record time, fixing you both in a glare.

“Hyunjin. Do you not have work to do?” Chris’s voice was low, a warning.

“I’m on my break. Thought I’d spend it with my bestie.” Hyunjin grinned, not even a little intimidated.

Chris crossed his arms, glaring at Hyunjin like he was contemplating ways to legally fire him.

“I could arrange for you to have a lot of free time if you’d like.” he bit out, making you snort.

“Oooo is that a threat? Because it sounded like one.” Hyunjin asked, sitting back on his chair lazily.

“Take it however you want.”

“Guys, that's enough!” you snapped, slapping Hyunjin on his knee, and he sat up straight.

Chris looked at you with a sigh and said, “A word?”

You follow him into the hallway, picking up a file just to make it look real. 

“He’s touching you a lot.” His voice was low, dangerous.

“He’s my best friend, Chris.” You said and your tone was firm enough to let him know that he can't go there. 

“I don’t care,” he growled, his eyes darkening. “If he keeps testing me, he won’t have a job.”

“You won't do that.”

Chris smirked as he said,“Wouldn’t I?”

This battle between Hyunjjn and Chris was literally the highlight of your day - you can't lie about that. You enjoyed every minute of it. But Chris' jealousy always led him to text you absolute filth. Because though he acted all calm and composed, he's not very demure when it comes to you. 

---

By noon this had escalated to a point where you were squirming in your seat, thanks to your boyfriend’s sheer audacity. 

You took a deep breath before entering Chris’s office, files in hand and a determined scowl on your face.

Having a secret relationship was hard? Well try having one with a perpetually horny man - it was even harder. You can't be yourself here, but you could definitely scold him. Quietly.

You pushed the door open, ignoring the way his gaze instantly snapped up to you. He was leaning back in his chair, all smug confidence and all that.

“Here are the files you asked for,” you said crisply, dropping them onto his desk.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone warm, his eyes raking over you shamelessly. 

“Chris.”

“Yes, darling?”

“Can you please stop texting me like that?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

He tilted his head, pretending to think about it and said, “Hmm. No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“It’s your own fault. You come here dressed like that, and then flirt with Hyunjin for 9 hours. What do you expect me to do? Sit here quietly and not think about getting you on my desk?” 

You pointed at him, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “You are crazy.”

“That I am.” He smirked, leaning forward with his elbows on his desk. 

You glared at him, your cheeks burning, and turned on your heel to leave. The second you sat down, your phone buzzed again.

Chris: I love you, baby.

You groaned audibly, dropping your forehead onto your desk, trying to hide the smile on your face.

By Friday, you needed a vacation. Or maybe a spiritual cleanse. 

You and Hyunjin had decided to go out for drinks - like you always did. Halfway through a round of shots with Hyunjin, your phone buzzed.

Chris: What are you up to?

Chris: Your text about going out with that menace was rather vague. 

You glanced at Hyunjin, a wicked smile spreading across your face. “Wanna annoy Chris?”

He grinned back as he said, “Always.”

You opened the camera app, and leaned back against Hyunjin, the shimmering glow of the bar lights making you both look just so sinful. Hyunjin, had one arm draped around your shoulders, smirking. You hit send, and waited.

Chris’s reply came instantly.

Chris: Of course. Of course.

You sipped your drink, biting back a smile as you typed.

You: Just out for drinks. You were too busy, remember?

Hyunjin snorted and said, “You’re gonna give him an aneurysm.”

“Good,” you said, snapping another selfie - Hyunjin had dipped his head closer, and your free hand was around him. You hit send.

It didn’t take long for the next reply.

Chris: Stop.

You: Stop what? 

Chris: Don’t play dumb.

Chris: You know exactly what you’re doing.

Chris: Get your ass home. Now.

You: No. Not until you learn that Jinnie is my best friend, and he's not your competition. So yeah. I'm not going anywhere.

Hyunjin leaned closer, as he whispered dramatically, “Oh no, Daddy Bang is mad.”

You slapped his arm, but still laughing as you said, “Jinnie, stop!”

Chris: That's enough. I'm not jealous.

You: Relax.

Chris: You know what? I’m coming.

“You're so evil! Now he's going to show up like Batman, all angry and in a suit.”

“He’s just bluffing.” you said, because how the hell does he know where you were?

Except… he wasn’t.

Around ten minutes later, the bar’s door swung open, and there he was.

Chris Bang in all his furious, suit-clad glory, looking like he’d just accidentally wandered into the wrong party.

You froze, mid-laugh. Hyunjin, however, did not.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, trying - and failing - not to laugh. “He’s actually here.”

Chris’s eyes locked onto you instantly. And he could see you both were tipsy. 

“Up. Now,” he ordered, his voice firm and unyielding.

Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself.

“Hey, Mr. Bang. Fancy seeing you here. Want a drink?” he said, batting his eyes at Chris.

Chris’s jaw tightened. “You’re coming too.”

Hyunjin blinked, clearly not expecting that. Chris didn’t bother repeating himself, but just grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet, then fixed Hyunjin with a glare that left no room for argument.

“Let’s go.” he said, turning and walking away.

—--

And the car ride was… tense.

Chris sat in the driver’s seat, his jaw clenched so tight. You were in the passenger seat, still buzzing from the alcohol. 

And Hyunjin? He was in the back, one hand over his mouth, his body shaking with suppressed laughter.

“This is the best Friday night ever,” he announced. “Can we do this again next week?”

“Hyunjin, shut up.” Chris said, shooting him a glare through the rearview mirror.

“Aw, come on, Mr. Bang. You know you love me.” Hyunjin snickered, leaning forward.

Chris didn’t answer, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel.

You, meanwhile, were squirming in your seat, and not because you were nervous. Chris’s anger was doing things to you, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold it together.

“Are you mad at me, Mr. Bang?” you asked, your voice so teasing.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what?” you asked innocently, biting your lip.

Hyunjin choked on his laughter, muttering, “Oh my god.”

Once home, Chris wasted no time separating you and Hyunjin like two kids in time-out.

“You,” he said, pointing at Hyunjin. “Guest room. Down the hall, second door on the left.”

“Wait, I get to stay? You’re not throwing me out onto the street?” Hyunjin asked, surprised again. 

Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and said, “Unfortunately.”

Hyunjin clasped his hands together, the drama kicking in as he said, “Mr. Bang, you’re too kind.”

“Enough,” Chris interrupted, holding up a hand, before leading him into the room and giving him some pyjamas to change into.

“And you,” he said to you, his voice low, “upstairs.”

Oh yeah, you both got the biggest (longest) lecture of your lives about drinking in shady bars and being irresponsible the next morning. That too while suffering hangovers and before breakfast. Cruel. 

---

Chris learned (a very hard lesson) that your lives were not exactly matching in any way possible. He played golf with business partners and hung out in restaurants that, like Hyunjin said, would charge for breathing in there. While you and Hyunjin, found pleasure in the simpler things in life. 

Like this 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle of Hogwarts Castle, spread out on your living room floor. Pieces in every shade of gray, black, and midnight blue mocked you and Hyunjin from every angle.

Hyunjin let out a dramatic groan, flopping back onto the carpet.

“What am I supposed to do with 92000 shades of darkness?!” he wailed. 

“Oh my God, Hyun,” you laughed, nudging him with your toe. 

“I can’t believe I’m enabling your Harry Potter obsession again.” he grumbled. “Where is your boyfriend anyway? Why do I have to suffer alone?”

You stuck your tongue out at him and said, “Oh, come on. You love it.”

“Love is a strong word,” he said, holding up two identical-looking black pieces with a glare.

Your phone buzzed and you glanced at the screen, smiling instantly.

Chris: Hey babe, what's going on?

You click a picture of the puzzle on your floor, sending it across.

You: Trying to tackle this monstrosity. Wanna come help?

Chris: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

Your heart squeezed. Intrude? It was so Chris to worry about things like that.

You: Babe, I want you here in 5 minutes.

---

When Chris arrived, you were so excited, you flung yourself into his arms, pulling him into a kiss that made Hyunjin groan loudly from the living room.

“Hey, some of us are single,” Hyunjin called out, clearly unimpressed. “Can you not?”

The three of you ended up on the floor, Hyunjin pushing all the dark pieces towards Chris quickly. 

“Looks…complicated,” Chris commented, eyeing the puzzle. 

“It’s hell,” Hyunjin confirmed, tossing another black piece into the pile. “But welcome to the party, boss man.”

“Alright. Where do I start?” Chris smirked, rolling up his sleeves.

The three of you settled into a rhythm, though it was more chaotic than you could've thought.

“Why does every piece look like a window?” Hyunjin muttered under his breath, while Chris’s look of concentration had you snickering. 

“You’re taking this way too seriously,” you teased, laying your head on his shoulder. 

“Of course,” he said, placing a piece with a soft click. “If I’m doing this, I’m doing it right.”

“Even his puzzles have to be CEO-level perfect.” Hyunjin snorted. 

“I’m the only one actually making any progress here.” Chris retorted. 

“Are you saying I’m bad at puzzles? I’ll have you know I’m -” Hyunjin gasped, clutching his chest.

“Terrible,” you interrupted, grinning as you handed Chris another piece. “Just terrible.”

Chris laughed as he leaned closer to you and said, “Glad I’m not the only one who sees it.”

As the hours passed, the puzzle started to take shape.

“You’re good at this,” you murmured, watching him fit another piece into place.

Chris glanced at you, his eyes soft and said, “I’m good at a lot of things.”

“Eww gross,” Hyunjin muttered, tossing a piece at Chris. “This is supposed to be wholesome. Stop making it sexy.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around Chris’s waist.

“So, Jinnie and I are planning a trip to the Christmas market outside the city on Saturday.” you said. “We do it every year, so I thought, you'd like to come this year?”

“You want me to come?” Chris asked, his eyes moving from you to Hyunjin. 

“Of course,” you said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Don’t get too excited, boss. She probably just wants an extra set of hands to carry her bags.” Hyunjin snorted from behind you.

“Shut up,” you said, swatting him on the arm. 

Chris’s eyes flicked between you and Hyunjin before settling on you, his smile growing.

“Fine. We’ll take my car and make it a road trip.” Chris said, smiling.

Saturday Morning – 5:45 AM

The sun hadn’t even risen, and you were already bouncing with excitement as Chris pulled his sleek black SUV in front of your building. You were dressed in your coziest winter coat, gloves, and scarf, while Hyunjin stumbled out in a hoodie and looked like he'd just rolled out of bed.

“This is an ungodly hour,” Hyunjin grumbled, throwing himself into the back seat. “I hate both of you.”

Chris smirked and said, “Good morning to you too.”

“Shh,” Hyunjin muttered, curling into a ball. “Please.”

You turned in your seat to look at him, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Call me when we’re there,” he mumbled, pulling a blanket (which he brought with him) over his head.

“I take it he’s not a morning person?” Chris chuckled as he pulled onto the road.

“Oh, he’s a delight,” you said sarcastically, earning you a nudge from the back. 

---

The drive was quiet and peaceful, with Hyunjin snoozing in the back and soft Christmas music playing in the background (because you're in a festive mood). At one point, Chris’s hand drifted to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles through your leggings.

“You’re really excited about this, huh?” he asked, glancing at you.

You nodded, your cheeks warm from his touch. “It’s kind of our thing…we've never broken the tradition…since we became friends.”

“I’m glad you invited me.” Chris said softly, and you squeezed his hand and said, “You’re part of my thing now.”

His eyes softened, and he lifted your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Good to know.”

---

Hyunjin woke up the second the car pulled into the parking lot.

“We’re here! Let’s go!” he shouted, practically bursting out of the car like he wasn't snoring just a minute ago.

Chris looked at you, thoroughly amused.

“I thought he hated mornings?” he said.

“Magic of Christmas,” you replied with a shrug, grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the market entrance.

The market was a whirlwind of lights, scents, and laughter. There were twinkling fairy lights strung between wooden stalls, the smell of roasted chestnuts and mulled wine in the air, and carolers singing in the background.

Chris looked mildly overwhelmed, especially when Hyunjin shoved a steaming cup of hot chocolate into his hand. “Drink up Mr. Bang. Where's all the energy huh?”

“You can call me Chris when we're out of work, Hyunjin,” Chris said, shooting him a sideways glare.

“Aw, really?” Hyunjin pressed, with a grin. “You’re our sugar daddy funding this very festive adventure, I'll call you whatever you want.”

Chris shot you a helpless look, and you burst out laughing, linking your arm through his other one.

“We love you, baby,” you said, grinning up at him. “I know this is a little out of your style-”

“That’s an understatement,” Chris muttered, but his lips gave away a little smile. 

You and Hyunjin darted between the stalls like overexcited toddlers, as the number of bags Chris was holding increased alarmingly.

As the night went on, Chris found himself both entertained and quietly overwhelmed. You and Hyunjin were a whirlwind of energy, and as Chris  watched you loop your arm through Hyunjin’s, he realized that you and Hyunjin had a connection he couldn’t touch. A bond so natural and easy, it made him wonder if he’d ever truly get there.

Chris’s thoughts were interrupted when you snuggled closer to him, because it was getting so cold. As you got ready to leave, you saw a stand selling cotton candy, and you wanted it. Chris muttered something about “all that sugar”, but went on to buy one for you anyway.

You and Hyunjin were waiting when a man (half drunk), hit on Hyunjin. Hyunjin scowled and said, “I have a boyfriend, mind you!”

Just then, Chris came walking, cotton candy in hand, which Hyunjin quickly took from him. Chris eyed the man who was staring at him open-mouthed. 

“Is there a problem?” He asked, his eyes falling on you, as you tried not to burst out laughing. 

“No, love, we're good.” Hyunjin said, rolling his eyes, before getting into the car like nothing happened. 

Chris just sighed, not even bothering to ask what that was all about. 

The drive back was quiet. You had passed out in the backseat, too exhausted after hours of walking and a tummy full of Christmas treats.

Hyunjin sat in the passenger seat beside Chris and he could see that Chris was tense. With a sigh, Hyunjin turned to face him and said, “Ok, Mr. Bang. What's going on?”

“What?” Chris's eyes flickered over to him for a second, then back to the road.

“You look like you'll explode any minute. What's the matter?” Hyunjin asked, raising his eyebrows. “And please, don't tell me it's nothing.”

Chris sighed, his watching you sleeping in the backseat through the rear view mirror, and then he said, “I…sometimes I worry about how you two have this connection, this bond that’s...so intense. You know her so well…and sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be enough for her. Because, I'm nothing like you, Hyunjin. My life has been completely different, and I worry that she'll be bored-”

Hyunjin’s lips quirked up, but there was a softness in his eyes as he glanced over at Chris.

“Oh wow. I have heard of over-thinking, but this is some next level shit,” Hyunjin laughed softly. “Dude, she's crazy about you. Yeah, we are really good with each other and all that, of course, she's my best friend. Literally my soul mate, only platonically, but yeah. But please, you have nothing to worry about. You’re with her now, and that’s all that matters.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing half the time,” Chris admitted. “But I’m trying. I love her…I've never…never before…”

“You’re doing just fine. She's really happy.” Hyunjin said with a smirk. 

Chris nodded, visibly relaxing as he said, “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks.”

---

When Chris parked his car outside your apartment building, your tired body could barely function. Your legs were sore from all the walking.

“I’m so tired,” you whined. “My legs are killing me, Chris. Can you -”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Chris came over and scooped you up into his arms, without a second thought, and you smiled against his neck as you held on.

“I got you,” he murmured as he carried you all the way inside, your head resting against his chest, your eyelids fluttering closed.

When he finally reached your bedroom, he gently placed you in your bed, quickly getting rid of your shoes, coat, mittens and scarf. His hands brushed over your hair as he tucked the covers around you, his gaze soft and almost tender.

“Good night,” he whispered, his lips landing a gentle kiss on your cheek, and his hand lingering at your side for a moment before he turned to leave.

But you caught his wrist, pulling him back.

“Stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Please, just... stay with me.”

He didn’t say anything, just took off his coat and shoes, and slid into the bed beside you, holding you close. The silence enveloped you both, and you drifted off into a deep sleep.

---

Hyunjin, of course, wandered into your apartment the next morning with coffee and breakfast, and walked straight into this scene - Chris still next to you, his arm draped over you protectively, and you, snuggled into him. He just grinned mischievously and snapped a photo for the memories.

“I see you took my advice, good choice,” Hyunjin said, looking at Chris, who was already wide awake and glaring at him.

“You're an idiot,” Chris muttered, but there was a softness in his eyes.

Hyunjin just chuckled, holding up his coffee. 

“Come get your coffee, Daddy Bang,” He said, laughing as Chris threw a pillow his way.

“Hyunjin, shut up!” You yelled, pulling Chris closer. “And you, come here,”

Chris grinned as he let you pull him closer (if that was even possible). This was perfect.

Hyunjin was right.

Tags : @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght

[tartarusknight]

Okay we ignore Steves big crush on Robin during season 3. And I get it, I do. It makes sense that he's easily motivated to see love where there isn't any. Dustin says Steve should live Robin so he does. Eddie says that Nancy loves him and should love her back, so Steve tries.

But I think it would be far more credible to his character if we changed that slightly. Sure people can motivate his actions. But deep down Steve did love Robin. Like saw a future of the two of them and everything. It has something to do with thinking he might die with her, but it's still there.

When she turns him down, it hurts but he sees her and knows that he can't make it about him. So he does what he does best and pretends everything is fine. He jokes with her and sings off key like he would to make Nancy laugh and he thinks he falls for her even more when she laughs with him.

But time moves on and they are so fucking close. Every time Robin's a little awkward around him, he makes sure to make her comfortable with jokes and teasing. And slowly Steve realizes that in any world he'd never be good enough for her anyways. Robin was perfect and Steve marveled at the fact that she cared about him at all.

It reminds him of Nancy and how she was so amazing and powerful and any attention she gave him was special. But after a while Nancy realized she was too good for Steve, that his love wasn't enough. And she didn't stay around to be his friend. But Robin, she stayed to be his friend and Steve cherished it. He never tried to make her fall in love with him, he new it would never work and he did his best to leave his love for her behind but it would flare up at moments.

So then he decided to start dating around more. No more pointless flirting that he realizes was mostly just to make Robin pay attention to him. He does his best to find girls who might be as special as Robin and Nancy. But it's hard.

After a while, when Robin celebrates when she kicks his ass in another bet, his heart doesn't break at her joy. No, he just complains and hides his grin as they iron out what he has to do for her. As she plans a way to make him embarrass himself in front of who knows how many people, he can only wonder when he moved on.

The pain in his heart feels healed and he leans against Robin to argue with her and feels lighter than he had in years. His heart felt free and he knows that will always love her but it's changed and it's never been more right.

As the year gets colder, Steve's time with Dustin is filled up with talk of Eddie. And Steve never really cared about Eddie when they were in school. The guy was strange in a weirdly good way and Steve didn't want his reputation to get fucked by Munson. But the more Dustin talks the man up, the more Steve wishes he had.

And while Steve doesn't know it yet, Dustin's once again pushing him towards another crush. This one won't be easy. It'll be filled with miscommunication and hard truths. It won't be a straight line, not when said crush will try to push him towards Nancy. But it'll start with blood stained kisses that save a life in March of 1986.

This crush won't be a cause of another scar and Robin will be there. Not as an object of Steve's affections but to hold his hand when he cries about liking boys for the first time. She'll be there and listen to his previous heartbreaks and she won't judge him. She won't thank him for doing the bare minimum of not pushing her to date him. She will just tell him that he isn't cursed and that who knows, maybe Eddie Munson is his future Mr perfect. And... She'll be right.

[helluvaneurospicy]

Tw-sh, bad mental health, alcohol mention

*Backstory*

This all started as a way to get money for my top surgery. I wanted to see if it would work. If people would be dumb enough, so maybe partially a social experiment.

Hades, it was fun, and I liked the people my new religion dragged in. We drank wine and talked about the meaning of life and then I talked about our god. He was made up, based on an old friend I’d had that I looked up to.

The wine was good.

Now, it feels a bit weirder.

See, that god we worship behind the Wendy’s in town is real.

This was all so stupid. Fun, but stupid. I…don’t really know what to do.

They all were so happy when we first saw him. My most loyal follower, Annabeth, most of all.

He’s kinda scrawny, and he wears an orange shirt from a summer camp and jeans, he has fluffy hair, and he’s a real fun guy.

But holy Percy, it’s so weird knowing HE’S REAL.

And he drinks wine with us in the back of the Wendy’s. Sometimes he brings beer, made by Dionysus. He apparently is part of a larger group of gods, one of who is my dad. Which I did not know.

Hades is…a man. I don’t feel any connection to him.

The other people of my religion, lots of them have godly parents but don’t care. Percy is the god we worship.

We burn cheap beer and junk food for him. Annabeth burns pasta. She likes him to have real food. I think she likes him, which kinda sucks for me.

Because Percy is the person? God? I’ve liked ever since I saw him. We’d never work out, and he and Annabeth wouldn’t either.

He’ll find someone from Olympus.

*Day 50 of being High Priest of Percyism*

I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Nico di Angelo, and I started a “fake” religion to get money so I can “yeet the teats”, so to speak. It worked, but also apparently the god I was faking is real and a very cool, slightly attractive teen boy.

Percy brought Dionysus’s own good alcohol today. We drank too much and started talking about the truths of life.

“To hell with it, our lives are meaningless and we do a bunch of dumb [bleep]. Do whatever you want with your life.”

“Capitalism stops that. Our society stops that. But do your best. There’s billions of us [bleeps] in the world, if a few of us can’t have some fun I don’t see the point.”

*Day 51 of being High Priest(I’d abbreviate to HP but the Harry Potter puns would be deathly)*

Well. Today was fun.

Percy didn’t come by for the sermon this morning, or the drunken clarity at 8. But I gained a new follower, Will. He’s got adorable, fluffy golden hair and the world’s most beautiful sky-blue eyes. Percy, I could lose myself in those eyes.

Percy doesn’t seem so pretty anymore.

*Day 100 of being High Priest*

Me and Will are officially dating, have been for a week.

I love him. Haven’t said it yet, though. Too scared.

Percy’s gotten less…human. He drinks more now, and says things that only he can truly understand.

He cheated on Annabeth. Two different girls. He says he was drunk and he didn’t know what he was doing.

She believed him. Poor girl. Will would never do that.

Drunken clarity is less clarity and more drunken now.

Percy brings a lot of alcohol.

He doesn’t talk to me anymore.

Neither does Will. They spend a lot of time together.

Forgot to add the header. I forget days now.

Surgery today. They’ll see the scars on my wrist. I wish I cared more.

My chest is gone now. Gave my binder to a young trans kid who joined the religion. I might make him Head Priest once he’s old enough to lead drunken clarity.

Scars on my wrist are worse now.

Will broke up with me. He doesn’t talk to me anymore. He only talks to Percy. At least he refused to become immortal.

I don’t know what my life is anymore. This started as a way to get money, and snowballed into the biggest mental health dip I’ve ever had.

I’m still at rock bottom and using a jackhammer to go deeper.

Feels like my soul lies in okay beer, wine, and the back of a Wendy’s.

You started a scam religion for a quick buck. You begin to panic when your fake god was actually a real forgotten one awakened from new worshippers, declared you it's high priest, and granted you the power of healing.

[sophsicle]

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[venus-ratt]

Gangle is in her own personal hell - Analysis

I want to talk about something that's been on my mind for a long time, and this new episode helped consolidate.

First, we need to talk about the tape room scene. We know this isn't some random corporate employee training video, but something she personally put together (not sure when or how, but that doesn't matter) and it reveals a lot about herself. I've seen people discussing how she projects giving up her dreams, but I want to pause right here.

The second Jax responds with "no," things get serious. That's what triggers the restraints and the brainwashing video. What stands out to me is the "why not?" The line delivery is creepy, but she also seems concerned. Like she can't even fathom the idea of not wearing a smile in the workplace and it's something that needs to be fixed as quickly as possible. Which brings us to the next point:

Gangle used to cope in her old life by masking.

We see her doing this throughout the episode. Around others, she puts on a happy face and forces an enthusiastic attitude, but the second she is left alone, the mask slips. Literally.

I wonder if her attempt to brainwash Jax was a reflection of how she was hammered with the idea that all her negative feelings should stay hidden, no matter what. We don't know for sure who pushed this onto her. Perhaps it has to do with the way she was raised, or something she learned in her workplace, or maybe it was self imposed.

Which makes her current situation at the circus just cruel.

Imagine waking up in a body that's not yours, in a headache-inducing, colorful hell, surrounded by people you don't know who tell you that you're here forever. And you try to cope by forcing a smile because that's what you always do, but the second you take a wrong step, you find yourself unable to do so. It doesn't matter how hard you try: you can't stop crying. Now you're stuck with the ugly, vulnerable version of yourself, the one you tried to hide all your life, for everyone to see.

People talk about the characters coping in different ways, but the circus straight-up ripped away the only way she knew how to cope.

[tashibum]

To Own, But Not To Share (III)

Part 1&2

Emperor Geta x Female Reader

Chapter Summary: Geta helps you with your anxiety around contracting syphilis and ensures you will never be infected

Chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+, orgy, oral sex, discussion of periods and STIs, reader has anxiety (much like the author), slave to lovers??, cumshot, the twins have mommy issues. 3.6k words. Read on AO3

The thrill of having sex with an Emperor soon wore off. You believed it was good to remember your place in his life in order to not get your hopes up. You were nothing but decoration on his arm to rub his back or play with his hair. He did not have sex with you again before your next period, he simply requested you pet him. Seeing you no longer be his favourite put you in good graces with the other concubines.

You discovered that when the concubines spent a week away from the Emperors for their bleed, the women were thankful for the respite. The fake smiles and giggles could finally end as you were embraced with the pain from your womb. The shared experience brought you closer with your fellow slaves

“It’s getting worse. There’s definitely more now - I can feel it,” Julia expressed, her hand down her loincloth.

You assumed she was talking about her blood. After all, that was why you were all kept away in the slaves quarters and not with the Emperors.

“You complain as though you are the only one of us afflicted with it,” Silvia protested.

You felt a need to contribute. Even though what you were experiencing was unpleasant, it could be worse.

“We should take solace that we are not with child. We would be kicked out and left pregnant in the streets. Or executed.”

The two concubines stared at you from their beds not looking amused.

“You think we are talking about menses? That is nothing,” Julia explained.

If they were not commiserating about their cycle, you did not know what other affliction they had.

“You don’t know do you?” Silvia gasped, then turned to look at her friend, twirling her hair around her finger.

“You pleasured Caracalla and did not see the growths surrounding his length? The scars gracing his face? His disease spreads to all of us,” clarified Julia.

While you did use your hands and sex on the man, you admit you did not look closely at him. The thought of now being infected with a whore’s disease made your stomach drop. Was this why Geta didn’t want you to attend to his brother? Or why he no longer desired you? Maybe he saw the concubines that slept with Caracalla as ‘tainted’.

“How do you know you have it? What are the first signs?” You asked panicked.

“Sores and rashes. You have not been here long enough for them to turn up though,” described Silvia.

It did little in relieving you. Even if you were infected, you would not know it yet.

The news of potentially having syphilis did not help you settle into your new home. Your anxiety spiked again, having relaxed slightly over the past few weeks. A symptom of this was having your appetite diminish. You had food constantly offered to you, but you barely ate two small meals a day. Once your blood stopped and you returned to the Emperors’ side, the fruit and meats Geta held to you did not enter your lips.

“One berry,” Geta tried to convince you to eat from his hand, but you shook your head. He took a bite out of the fruit then pressed it onto your skin, it’s juice leaving a trail from your neck to your nipple where the man rubbed it over your exposed breast. He then discarded the half eaten berry on the floor and leant in to suck your nipple. He sucked for a while, as though it was more comforting than sexual for him.

“Shall we buy a wet nurse for you, brother?” Caracalla joked and everyone erupted in laughter, even yourself. It was the first time you had laughed in months, what was there to be happy about being enslaved.

“We all know the wet nurse is your fantasy, not mine,” Geta retorted, and walked away from the rest of the group.

“I think we have upset him. More wine to celebrate!” cheered Caracalla, delighted with the response he got out of Geta. The remaining concubines cheered also, and you sipped your goblet of wine, laughing from Caracalla’s continued mocking of his brother distracted you from your anxiety.

A couple of days later, A praetorian told you that Geta requested your presence in his bed chambers. You had not had sex with him since your first full day at the palace, so were intrigued how he would put you to use. He was your master, and he could use you as little or frequent as he wanted.

It was night, and while he still wore his brightly coloured toga, his makeup had been cleaned off. It was the first time you had seen him without any coloured powder surrounding his eyes. It made him look gentler, it made his brown eyes look bigger.

“Come sit with me,” he ordered and you walked towards his grand bed. It was a large four poster bed with soft white sheets. It matched his title, the way your small metal bed matched your title of slave.

You awkwardly sat down next to him, sinking into the wool mattress. You stared around the room, paintings hung on the walls and furniture was bountiful. His chambers was bigger than your entire family home. The fortune he had made you feel sick. The Emperors had no idea of life other than the entitled ones they lived. This man could not relate to anything you had experienced in your life.

He had a balcony that looked over gardens and a courtyard, the door leading out there was open and let in a gentle cooling breeze. You imagined it must be peaceful to have the sights and sounds of nature enter your home instead of the packed bustling city streets.

“Would you rather us sit and look at the night sky? I will request an extra chair be brought out for you,” Geta decided, not even waiting for your response. He went to the door and returned with a guard carrying a chair to the balcony.

“I’ve never had company out here before,” he admitted softly as you took a seat on the cold metal garden chair.

You imagined he had company in his chambers plenty of times before, especially in his bed. But no one had ever ventured out onto this space. Strange, given how he offered it so quickly to you.

“Beautiful grounds,” you commented, unsure of what to say or what he wanted from you. If he wanted to have sex with you, he wouldn’t bring you out here to look at stars, he would get straight to it.

“I rarely spend time out there. There’s always more important things to attend to.”

His definition of important made you giggle inside. All the brothers did were drink, party and order the senates around.

“What troubles you?” He asked, turning his body to you.

“I do not understand, Emperor. I am fine,” you dismissed.

“You should be gaining weight, but you are losing it. I never see you eat. Does the food displease you?” Questioned Geta.

You didn’t know how you were going to explain yourself. He would not understand your worries and how they affected you. How you have to stop yourself from thinking about the future due to how bleak it was. Once the syphilis takes over your body, the Emperors would no longer want you and you would be tossed out onto the streets along side the other concubines.

“I’m just not very hungry,” you explained away, averting your eyes to the floor.

“Stop lying to me!” He shouted, getting up from his chair to stand over you. He was very intimidating like this; it made you want to curl up and hide.

“I - I’m worried,” you hurriedly confessed.

“About what? Who is making you feel this way?” He seethed.

“The - the disease that your brother has. All the concubines have it, and I fear I’m next, that I already have it.”

Geta slowly sat back down on his chair. He knew all about his brother’s illness, how he passed it to everyone that touched him. How the concubines could give it to each other during the Emperors’ orgies.

“The fear consumes me, consumes my appetite.”

Geta shook his head. There was no cure for anyone in Rome with the sickness. His brother was slowly going mad with it, and it was a matter of time before the concubines followed suit.

“Stand up. Let me check,” he offered. He did not want to become like his brother and contract the illness, and he didn’t want you to have it either. He only just got you, hadn’t had his moneys worth yet.

You stood up and waited for whatever the Emperor planned to do, unsure how he would check. He took the bold move to kneel before you and tug down your loincloth to your ankles. He raised your short tunic for you to hold so he could be face to face with your pussy. It was a bizarre situation to find yourself in - the Emperor of Rome staring at your shaved mound in the moonlight. You looked down but all you could see was his curls, looking dark in the night. He moved your legs apart and then his head disappeared as he went further into his examination of you. His fingers stroked the skin of your vulva, then spread your lips to see your most sensitive skin.

“Do you have sores anywhere on your body? In your mouth? Any fevers?”

You shook your head no for all of it. You were unsure how much detail he could see in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars. Besides, he wasn’t a healer. All he knew was power and greed, so you couldn’t picture his diagnosis being accurate.

His fingers stopped their search and his hands wrapped around you, the side of his head pressed into your sex, as though he was giving the lower half of your body a hug.

“You’re not infected,” Geta muttered. His eyes were shut in relief as he held your thighs to him. You remained still though.

He looked up at you from your legs. “Trust me. I know this disease. I know what it looks like. You do not have it.”

This did ease your mind, but you would still keep an eye out for symptoms.

“You don’t have it, and I’ll keep it that way,” he promised.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him and let your tunic cover you again.

“How will you keep it that way? No one can control Emperor Caracalla.”

Geta stood up and held your head in his hands. “I will kill him before I let him lay a finger on you.”

It was extremely brazen to say, it could be interpreted as treason.

“He is selfish, only wants what I have. If he does not see me with you, he will not want you,” he clarified.

“Whatever you wish, Emperor.”

If he did not want to use you, that was your owner’s choice. It was not your place to say that it was pointless for him to buy a concubine and not put her to use.

“I will only use you in my chambers. I will tell the guards you have unlimited access to the palace,” declared Geta.

You stupidly thought he would no longer use you for sex, how wrong you were! Now, the Emperor would only fuck you in private.

“Am I dismissed, Emperor?” You asked, pulling your loincloth up to cover you again. You desperately wanted to tell the other concubines what had transpired.

“No,” he blurted out. “Rest with me.”

You assumed it was a polite way of saying he wanted you, especially when he took off his toga and slipped underneath the covers naked. But he patted the space next to him in the bed, so you went next to him, choosing to stay dressed.

To begin with, you laid frigid on your back, hands by your sides. If you were not going to have sex with him, you did not know how to relax around him. He moved his body so his head rested on the centre of your chest. You moved one of your hands to hold him, and the other raked through his hair. Periodically, you leant down to kiss the top of his head. The Emperor hummed contently. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. The powerful Emperor was gone, and a needy boy had replaced him.

“If you tell any one of this, I will kill you with my bare hands,” Geta suddenly threatened, disrupting the peace.

“You have my word, Emperor.”

You woke up with light streaming in from the curtains. There was no sunshine, so you knew it was early. The Emperor no longer laid on top on you, but slept on his back to the side of you. You lifted up the sheet covering you to look at his naked resting body; to see him in a state of peace. While doing so, you indulged in looking at his toned body, his facial stubble and of course his cock, that was comically standing up.

“Suck it,” he taunted, voice deep and groggy. You quickly whipped your head around to look at his face.

“You know you want to,” he teased with a lazy smile.

He had caught you ogling him like a pervert. There was no point trying to act prim and proper now. You pushed the sheets towards the end of the bed and sat in between his legs. You began by slowly stroking him, watching the glide of his foreskin reveal and cover his tip again and again. Every time his tip came out, you gave it a gentle kiss.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he flirted. He took ahold of your hair and encouraged you to start taking more of him in your mouth. You tried your best to make it pleasurable for him, doing all you could to keep your teeth hidden and mouth wet. He enjoyed the sounds you made as you gagged on his cock and needed to touch more of you than just your hair.

“Come here,” he instructed. He grabbed you and guided you to his head. You were unsure what he wanted from you, but he pushed your head and back down, so knew he wanted you to continue sucking him off from this new position. Your thighs settled on either side of his head and you could feel his hands unravelling your loincloth. Soon, he tossed the fabric onto the floor and you were exposed to him.

It was humiliating having him so close to your core. You tried so hard to keep your body as far away from his face as possible that your thighs began to tremble. When he leaned up and gave a wet kiss to your pussy lips, you stopped straining and relaxed your body onto his face. The rough stubble of his beard grazed your soft thighs. His tongue explored you, from your hole up to your hard clit.

“Breakfast is served. You’ve prepared a feast for me,” he bragged.

His tongue distracted you from your ministrations on his dick. When his mouth went to your clit and stayed there, and starting sucking, you rested your head on his thigh. Was this how it felt when a man was getting sucked? If so, you could understand why the Emperors had an endless chain of people to have sex with. You grinded on him, feeling his nose press against you.

“The more I clean up, the more your body produces,” he stated, discussing the endless liquid arousal you excreted.

“Cum. Cum on me,” he directed, his voice muffled from his mouth pressed against you.

The way his mouth felt on you, it didn’t take long before your orgasm started. Your empty hole contracted, your stomach muscles tensed causing you to shake. When you began to come down from your high, you began working on his dick again. You sucked on the head while your hand stroked up and down his shaft. Soon, he flooded your mouth with his load. His gasps accompanying his flexed feet.

You turned around to let him watch you swallow down his seed. He shook his head against the pillow, unable to believe he got so lucky to have someone like you enter his life.

“That’s the most you’ve eaten in weeks,” he jested, his soft smile making you forget that he was a sadistic leader.

“You’ll have to keep feeding me,” you teased back.

You rose up from the bed and walked over to where your loincloth landed. You started to wrap it around you when you were interrupted.

“I have not dismissed you yet,” Geta condemned. The sudden harshness of his tone made you freeze.

“I will request food be brought up to us,” he spoke. He grabbed a robe and tied it up before walking out of the room.

For the next few weeks, you spent every night you were not bleeding in his chambers. You fed each other the best food Rome had to offer, gazed at the stars on his balcony and became more and more comfortable with each other’s bodies. The most you did in front of others was hold hands. It was strange for the Emperor to have to restrain himself, but it was worth it knowing his brother had no interest in you.

The clothes given to you started to change. The revealing dresses you wore were swapped for more modest outfits. It made you stick out from the other concubines around the twins. While the other women wore dresses with their breasts hanging out and bottoms barely covered, the only skin you showed were your arms.

Caracalla demanded that an orgy be organised. He was desperate for a party and to let loose. You didn’t understand how it would be any different from his normal days, but looked forward to getting dressed up for something.

Geta knew he had to do something in order to keep his brother away from you that night. Geta was only interested in being intimate with you, and knew that once Caracalla would see this, he’d want a piece of you too. So he went out of his way to buy a new concubine, but a different one than normal. The new woman was older than you, and had big swinging breasts. He hoped his brother would take the bait.

“She’s……………larger than normal,” his brother noted when he first saw their new slave. “And older.”

“Let’s see what she is capable of tonight,” Geta reasoned. He knew that once his brother had consumed enough wine and drugs, he would be all over the new woman like a starving newborn.

Geta and yourself watched on from a chaise lounge as Caracalla devoured the newest concubine. A glass of wine and a line of rhino horn was all it took for him to pull her dress off.

When he was fully distracted was when Geta finally made a move on you. He undid the clasp and let your dress drop to the floor, leaving you completely naked.

“She has not been shaven,” Silvia brought to Geta’s attention. When the maidens had bathed you recently, you noticed that the razor did not come out as often. So your dark curls had returned.

“She is at my preference,” disclosed Geta. Being clean shaven was for the whores. You were more than that.

“But she needs to be smooth,” Silvia carried on, having been shaved for the Emperors’ beauty standards for as long as she had been in the palace.

“She is at my preference!” he raged.

He turned back to you, disappointed that he had expressed such rage in front of you.

“Never mind that. Lay down for me dear,” he whispered so no one saw him show weakness.

You had sex with him on top of you, your legs up on his shoulders. When you thought you couldn’t get closer, he pushed himself forward, your legs now pushed back against your chest.

He was so deep inside you, you feared he would take away your ability to walk. Fucking you so fast, his gold crown fell off. After thrust after thrust of him abusing that spot within you, you started to clench around him, trying your hardest not to scream.

Your faces were pressed against each other, he breathed in your laboured breaths.

“You’re milking me for everything I have,” he grunted.

You looked into each other’s eyes as he pulled out and ropes of his load landed on the hair covering your cunt.

He gave you a searing kiss, not bothering to hide the passion between you. He didn’t care if anyone saw him use his tongue in your mouth. It would tell others to stay away from you.

As your kisses slowed to something more romantic and peaceful, both of your attentions went to Caracalla, who was nearing his peak too.

“Mama,” he whined. “Mama, I’m so close.”

His head was in the breasts of the older woman, alternating between sucking her large nipples and motorboating his head between them. The woman stroked Caracalla’s hair all the while a feminine looking man took his cock in his mouth and down his throat.

Geta’s eyes only stayed on his brother for a moment before he went back to looking at you. He stroked his hands over your hair and admired you. He could not deny that his feelings had changed. Cupid had shot him with his arrow, and he was falling quickly. This was why Venus never made him get married earlier, much to his family’s dismay. You were more than a slave to him. More than all the women in Rome. He wanted to rule Rome with you, forever and always.

[xetlynn]

arcane imagines- claggor

don’t go

[arcane] [main page] 🔞⚠️content warning⚠️🔞: SMUT prompt: Claggor is jealous of an old friend of yours who rarely comes into town. He doesn't hide it either. containing: afab reader, fem receiving oral, unprotected sex, pull out method, vanilla tbh.

“I’ll be right back.” Claggor tells you, going off further into the market to get the both of you drinks as you were looking over artwork. “Okay, I’ll be waiting!” You beam, now left alone to admire everything. 

The two of you have been flirting for a while, it honestly feels like a game of tag. The only reason he’s at the market with you is because you lied about needing a new mirror for your room and needed someone to carry it for you. You’ve been waiting for this man to make it official. Or at least end this so you can move on with your life. You knew for a fact though that you weren’t going to be the one to say a single thing. 

As you were looking over a booth full of mirrors of all different shapes and sizes you felt someone come up from behind you. Confidently thinking it’s Claggor you turn around with a grin. “I think this is the one- oh… Caspian?” You furrow your eyebrow. “[Name], I was hoping I was right when I saw you!” He laughs, opening his arms expecting an embrace. You eye him up and down but then eventually give into it. Squeezing him. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” You exclaim excitedly. 

“Yeah, been off doing random quests.” He jokes, pulling away with a lopsided smile. “Right, how has that been?” You fold your arms, curious to know. “Eh, y’know. A lot, maybe I can tell you over dinner. Tonight?” He boldly asks and you purse out your lips. 

You really didn’t have anything to do. You were kind of hoping to have a night with Claggor but you also haven’t seen Caspian in three years. You can always spend time with the boy tomorrow. With Caspian you never know when he’s going to stay or leave town. With a shrug of your shoulders you answer him. “Yeah, I know the perfect place to go!” You say, pulling out a little notebook and pencil from your bag you scribble down the address before ripping the page and handing it to him. 

You didn’t see Claggor there, holding both yours and his drinks with a scrunched, annoyed expression. Slowly making his way over as the two of you talked. “Hey! Who’s this?” Claggor speaks up, handing you your drink and you thank him with a cheerful countenance, immediately taking a sip of the beverage. 

“This is Caspian, the one friend I told you about! He travels overseas.” You remind him, subconsciously leaning into his arm. Your friend notices this between the two of you and holds back a small grimace. “Ah, sorry, don’t really remember. I’m Claggor.” He sticks his hand out, the boy in front of both of you places a fake smile upon his lips. Taking Claggor’s hand bitterly. Giving it a rough grip. “Nice to meet you, who are you to [Name]?” 

“[Name]’s… boyfriend.” He hesitantly answers and your eyes widen, utterly shocked by the words. “Oh no way, man. Congrats to the both of you. I was just telling [Name] here how we should chat over dinner tonight.” Caspian finally rips his hand away from Claggor’s. Both men seething with irritation. 

“Really?” Claggor glances down at you and you nod your head. “You should come! It’d be so fun!” You gleam, taking another gulp of your drink. Oblivious to the two’s behavior as you’re still caught up in the fact that Claggor called himself your boyfriend. “Ah, we’d understand if you couldn’t though.” Caspian comments, only adding fuel to the fire. 

“I’ll be there. No worries about that!” Claggor stands up straight, he toward over your friend. “Great! Can’t wait to see the both of you later tonight then. Say, 6pm?” He cocks his head to the side and you nod your head. “Perfect! See you then, Cas!” You say as he’s already walking away. You turn around back to the mirror you had your eyes on. 

Claggor watches your demeanour, did him calling himself your boyfriend scare you off? Was that an idiotic move? Did he ruin this between the both of you? 

But those thoughts quickly disperse at the next couple of words that exit out your muzzle. “So, boyfriend of mine, carry this mirror for me.” You teasingly smack his arm, pointing to the object with your drink in hand. He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re fine with it?” He questions and you stick the tip of your tongue out as you pretend to think. “Mmm, I’d like to be properly asked out but I’m fine with it.” You hint to him as you head over to the booth owner, giving them money for the mirror before leaving. 

Claggor carrying the body mirror in one arm as the other is snaked around your waist. Listening to you yap about how excited you are for later tonight. Only causing his chest to ping with jealousy. He doesn’t know why, genuinely he’s not a jealous person. But seeing you with Caspian who was clearly trying to flirt with you just… bothered him. 

And as you unlock the door to your apartment, letting him in first and you tell him to just place the mirror down against the wall. Needing to figure out a good place to put it in your room. 

“Want to hang out until tonight?” You offer, throwing your bag on your couch as you head to your kitchen. “Of course I do.” He scoffs, awkwardly standing in your living room as if he hadn’t been here plenty of times. 

“No need to be so sassy.” You giggle, searching around in your fridge, boredly. You didn’t know what to do, with a sigh you closed the door. Standing straight up to now see Claggor behind you. “Have you ever had feelings for Casper?” He tilts his head and you give a confused guise.

 “Caspian? Haha! Are you jealous?” You poke his side. Going to move past him but he doesn’t let you. “Answer the question, Angel.” He lowly orders and you look taken aback at first but then you attempt to hold a smirk threatening to appear on your lips. “So what if I have?” You ask with an “innocent” expression. 

“I don’t want to go to the dinner.” He suddenly pouts, his strong standing demeanor suddenly vanishing. You chuckle, holding onto his arm. “Claggor, I have never felt a single romantic feeling for Caspian. He’s a friend and nothing more. But if you don’t want to go to dinner tonight. That’s okay.” You pat his chest, finally able to move around him, heading back to the living room. 

A frown still graces his face as he follows after you. “But you’d still be going?” He inquires and you look back at him with raised eyebrows. “Yes.” 

“Could I change your mind?” He traces a hand up and down your forearm and shivers shoot through you. “And how would you do that?” You ask, intrigued now. “It would be worthwhile… I promise.” He takes your hand, lifting it to his lips. 

You bite your bottom lip. “Your jealousy is making you think very lewd… things.” You whisper as his lips now hover over your own. Your breathing was ragged and racing. “Not my jealousy, only you.” He disagrees before pulling you into a kiss. Closing the gap in a quick motion. You gasp against his mouth. 

The two of you have kissed before, it was always short and sweet. Nerves within the both of you always cut things before it could lead into something further. You lift yourself up, holding onto his shoulders as your leg swings to the other side of him. Now straddling his lap. 

Your lips lock with one another, impatient and expectant of more. Your hands glide up his neck to his hair as his own grasp onto your hips. Subtly roaming down… and down… until they’re holding your ass. You giggle into the kiss, peaking an eye open. Feeling his own smug smile against your lips. 

Your perk your ass out even more, indicating that you wanted more but it also causes your core to gingerly rub against his already semi-boner. He grunts quietly from the friction. You feel it too, it was too pleasurable to not do it again. Discreetly you make your hips rock back and forth, lolling onto him. 

Your fingers massaged into his scalp, feeling through his hair as you continue to grind your pelvis over his clothed private. His large hands knead your doughy, globular ass, finding true enjoyment in it. He can’t help but think how Casper… or whatever his name was would love to be in his position right now. 

You withdraw from his mouth, puffing out air as your eyes examine his face. “I need you.” You murmur, pecking his parted lips. “Need me?” He quizzes as you fervently, eagerly nod your head. “Mhm, please.” You mewl out, plantering kisses all over his jaw. “So greedy.” He pops his hips up to get closer to the edge of the couch. You let out a small noise at the movement causing him to smirk. “Let’s go to the room. More comfortable.” He holds the bottom of your thighs. His fingers were close to your aching cunt. 

You nod your head but you go straight to his neck, ambushing it with kisses and little suckles. Definitely leaving faint marks. 

Entering your room he lays you down on your bed but your legs still wrap around his waist. Your hips in the air. He laughs at you and you reach your arms up. “I wasn’t done!” You complain but he just gently pushes your wrists away, throwing his shirt off. 

Your mouth shuts, you want to clench your thighs together but can’t. 

You do the same, ripping your own shirt off, not wasting time as your bra goes with it. He gawks down at your naked chest as you proudly show it off. “Touch me.” You whine, wiggling your hips on his. He obliges, leaning down to give you what you want. His hands go straight to the mounds on your chest. His mouth latching onto your nipples as well. Taking turns with the both of them. You lay your head back on the bed. Closing your eyes at the feeling. 

He was subtly rutting his hips against you like before and moans escape past your lips. 

“So pretty” He mumbles, his hands sliding down your body to your pants. “I want to take these off.” He huffs, forcing you to release your hold on him with your legs. He roughly yanks the clothing off, not even a warning before he does it. You were bewildered by the boy. You haven’t seen him act so… horny before. He’s teased you on countless occasions, but he was so respectful. Tasteful? Right now he is full of yearning and ferventness. 

Your legs were still spread to either side of him so he could fit perfectly between them. Giving him the view of his dreams. He didn’t give you time before his face was right in front of your soaked pussy. You lifted your head to stare down at you. Claggor peers up to you before smiling. 

“Can I?” He asks and you glare at him. “Don’t make me wait. It’s rude.” You sternly tell him. Partly joking but mainly serious. You were antsy now. There was no backing out. There was no stalling. You wanted it. Needed it even. And so did he. So without skipping a bit he dives into his delicious meal ahead of him. 

His tongue swirls over your folds and your hands immediately find their way to his hair. “I’m so glad you got jealous!” You cry as he begins to eat you out. 

It felt like whatever you thought of heaven to be like. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Toes curling. You wanted to feel angry with how he held this from you. The magic of his mouth. You truly were ecstatic that he couldn’t handle his own grown boy emotions of being jealous of a childhood friend of yours. 

He hums into your pussy at your words, grumbling about what you had just said to him. 

But even with how good it felt you had to push his face away from your cunt. “I need you inside me, I can’t handle it.” You roll your hips forward, almost off of the mattress and he snickers at your neediness. “I need to prep you, angel.” His thumb rubbed up and down your thigh and you jut out your bottom lip. “I can take it. Promise.” 

He clicks his tongue, bearing his teeth. “As much as I want to, no, [Name].” He shakes his head and your face falls in disappointment. His mouth was coaxed with your juices and his eyes fell back down to the reason for it. “I’ll be quick” He swears as his fingers go to your cunny. 

His middle and ring delicately sliding down from your clit to your hole. Purposely antagonizing you by being slow. 

As his digits enter inside you his tongue reattaches to your clit. Playing with it. His fingers scissoring inside of you, stretching out your walls. 

Your liquids make squelching noises, starting off quiet but growing ever-so-quickly. He focused on your gratifying spots. Hooked on them, not giving them a break. He learned and adapted quickly to you. Studying every fidget, every moan from your vocals, every twitch of your cunt. Educating himself on what you enjoy. And what’s going to get you closer to your sweet, sweet release. 

“Sweet angel, that feel good?” He mutters against you and you let out an incomprehensible bunch of words. Nonetheless answering his question though. Your muscles tightened in your thighs as you held them in the air. Tummy flexing and you wanted to scream out from how you feel. 

“I- ‘most there!” You squeal, your nails puncturing your own skin on your hips as you hold yourself. “Good girl, cum all over my fingers.” His fingers thrust in and out of you, going back to sucking on your nub. “F-fucking- idont- mmm…” You babbled consistently, not able to do anything else as your body squirmed the closer your orgasm approached. 

And as that wave hit, you were seeing stars. Your mouth held open, the air in your throat not even able to exit. Your cheeks are flushed and warm. 

And even as you cum he’s lapping up every ounce of it. Not letting any of it go to waste. 

As you calm down from what felt like a once in a lifetime ejaculation you lay there almost lifeless. Numb to his mouth that wasn’t letting up. “Claggor…” Your hands grasp at him, weakly shoving him away. “S-stop…” You whine. 

“Alright, angel.” He coos, going back up, kissing you sweetly as his hands worked on pulling his pants down. “Before I give you what you want… Tell me we’re not going to that dinner tonight.” He gazes down at you and suddenly the post-orgasm drunkenness you felt completely dispersed. Your eyes landing on him. “What?” 

“I don’t want you to go.” He tells you truthfully and you giggle. “Claggor… fuck me and I’ll give you an answer.” You wrap your legs around him and push him forward. His weight landing atop of you and you grin. “[Name], but I said-”

“Fuck, Clags. Please.” You interrupt him. 

He couldn’t deny you at that. Swiftly he pulls his cock out. Spitting in his hand before rubbing it on his member. “There we go~” You sing, mouth watering at the sight as he lifts himself back up to line up with your tight, glistening hole. 

He scoffs but still gifts you precisely what you crave and wish for. Sheathing inside of you, inch by inch. 

Your walls clenching and unclenching on him. He swallowed down roughly at the feeling. Still tasting you on his tongue. Once fully inside of you he keeps himself in place until you tell him to move. 

And as those words hit his ears he’s moving at a delectable pace. And as he does his hands roam all over you. Squeezing all over your curves. Getting to feel what he only thought he could imagine in his mind. Getting to experience it was something he had only wished for. 

Your smaller hands grasp onto his. Bringing them to your chest. His eyes were dark, glossed over as he admired every inch of you. Your eyes were shut, it was too much. 

“Look at me, please- wanna see your beautiful eyes.” He begs, squishing your boobs within his hands. Kneading and playing with them. You did as told, sheepishly smiling up at him. His heart fluttered and the only thing he could think to do is forcefully kiss you. Lifting your left leg over his shoulder. 

“Deep! ‘S deep, Clags!” You sob, claw at his arms. “Sh-shit! You’re really squeezing me, angel.” He groaned, this angle had him fighting for his life. 

“S-sorry…” You mewl, bringing your other leg over his other shoulder. Having a hard time keeping it in the air yourself. “Gonna cum soon, where do you want me?” He grunts as he asks you, sweat dripping from his forehead. 

“My mouth, wanna taste you.” You say, and seconds later you feel empty. Your hole gaping, clenching onto nothing. 

You hurriedly get off the bed, sitting on your knees, mouth open for him. Your own hand went to your pussy, swirling around your clit to reach another high. Your eyes were closed as you await Claggor. 

Tongue on display, he jerks himself off. “O-oh fuck!’ He crumbles forward as his semen spurts out. Velvet ropes of cum splattering your face. Barely hitting your tongue where it was supposed to go. 

At the same time your body trembles at your own orgasm. You smile as you lick up the cum around your mouth. 

As he catches his breath, he looks down at you. Now embarrassed at what he did as his ejaculation was in your hair and all over your beautiful face. Your already drenched fingers go and wipe at some of it. Putting it in your mouth and you sucked on them. 

“T’s real good.” You inform him, standing from your spot and plopping down on the bed. He joins you with a huff. “Sorry, gonna have to thoroughly wash that out.” He tried to pick it out of your hair and you laughed. “Guess we might miss that dinner then.” You say with a knowing smile and he perks up. He looks over at the time and it’s only 3. 

He knits his eyebrows together, confused. 

“I thought you wanted to go?” He quizzes and you shrug your shoulders. “Found something more worthwhile.” You press a lip to his cheek. Getting his nut onto his face. 

You were going to have to call Caspian, hoping that he has the same phone number and let him know you weren’t going to make it. 

[dinkdonkjoolian]

can we talk about how actually insane this is? hi welcome to tiktok where a bunch of 13 year olds will shamelessly tell one another to kts and that they deserve their trauma and if you DARE to step back and acknowledge how damaging and illogical this is from the group proclaiming to protect and love the young and weak (who, mind you, they tell to kts and relive trauma for... coping in ways they dislike/dont understand... even if they are those vulnerable minors they love so dearly) they just keep going. people hate to hear this and honestly i hate to say it but as much as i adore the internet, as much as its made me better from the access to information i genuinely think people, regardless of age, are becoming fucking insufferable and the web is part of it. sorry guys. people are using it like a goddamn desensitization tool, nothing carries weight and insinuating it should gets you cackled off platforms. these dehumanizing mindsets you see used against proshippers, kinksters, anybody younger than whoever is being the cunt at the moment, minorities, basically anybody vulnerable or easy to poke at is genuinely damaging these dumbass kids brains. i feel bad for their peers, parents, and everybody else around them- not to mention themselves. i hope they dont stay this way forever, because if this is our future, the left leaning delusion that we're leading a generation of morally upright politically aware youth is... even farther from accurate and needs serious work. these kids are one alt right pipeline away from the next hitler youth. hell, maybe theyre already there.