#And I'll keep writing out my feelings to process them

[jeongteen]

DON'T BE AFRAID TO BE VULNERABLE

Cho Hyun-ju x gn!reader

Notes : I need to write for my sweet Hyunju more 🥹 I would also like to write about other S2/3 girls, my requests are always open (read my pinned first if you'd like to request 🫶🏻)

CW : Mentions of basic squid game stuff

Summary : Hyunju gets another nightmare about the games, you comfort her.

Words count : 563

Hyunju and you have moved together when she came back from the games. You were so worried while she was gone, wondering where she was, if wasn't her to just leave like that.

When she came back, you decided it was better for the two of you to live together.

It took a while for Hyunju to open up about what happened. She struggles putting words on her traumas and she was too scared to put a heavy weight on your shoulders.

So at first you would just be there, not knowing what your girlfriend needed reassurance for but still being there for her.

When she finally opened up, you were in complete awe. Those bloody games seem like a story you'd tell your friends to scare them. It seems like it comes right from a horror movie. But it was real. And Hyunju managed to escape.

She often feels guilty about what happened, saying she couldn't save those who deserved it. The survivor's guilt it is.

Despite how long it has been since all of this ended, Hyunju still gets frequent nightmares about it. Most of the time she tries to handle it by herself, drinking a glass of cold water in the kitchen to ground herself, sitting alone for a few minutes, sometimes she even turns the TV on for a bit of light.

But sometimes the nightmares feel too real. It's almost as if she could smell the blood, as if she could feel a knife piercing her skin, as if she could actually hear the terrifying screams of the other players, as if she was back in that hell hole.

Today was one of those nights. She wakes up in cold sweats, panting, holding her hand to her chest. She tries her best to stay quiet and not to move too much, afraid to wake you up. But the sudden shift of her body next to you was enough to interrupt your sleep.

You sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes in the process.

— Are you okay Hyunju? You ask in a tired voice, looking at her with eyes half closed.

— Yeah don't worry, everything's fine, I'll grab a glass of water and I'll be back, you can sleep.

You grab her wrist before she manages to stand up, resulting in her facing you, confused.

— Hyunju. You don't have to go through all of this alone you know. You're literally out of breath from how bad this nightmare was, please don't be afraid to be vulnerable, not with me. You keep a soft tone, making sure you keep her comfortable.

She doesn't answer at first, she doesn't really know what to say. Her selfless self can't help but think she's suddenly putting so much pressure on you, she thinks she failed protecting your peace.

— Come here. You let go of her wrist and open your arms towards her.

She hesitates at first but eventually crawls into your arms, her head resting on your chest.

One of your hands is stroking her hair and the other is tracing slow circles on her back. Your cheek is pressed against the top of her head.

You stay like that for a few minutes, quiet, just taking in each other's warmth.

— Thank you. Hyunju's voice is right above a whisper.

— You don't have to thank me for being here, that's what soulmates are for.

[vaguely-concerned]

returnal and deathloop have such a beautifully 🤝 take on the timeloop theme of like... hell is empty and all the devils are here. working on their linked in profiles because as it turns out the human mind given eternity to work with will naturally birth fresh new levels of hell of its own making that a poor devil could never even dream of, and then, grotesquely, perversely, make a home out of that hell. except returnal is doing that extremely well but played very straight, and deathloop is doing it like (looney tunes connotations). and I love it so much for that.

[dors-ee]

Hmmm. No. I still don't take it as canon. I mean it actually isn't canon or truly official, but even if it was made canon and truly official by Riot, I still would reject it.

(Quickly :I am genuinely happy for those that liked it and love the fact they kissed btw! I'm happy for you you got something you like! Truly!)

I don't think they kissed. Like i reject the MV making them kiss and for me they didn't kiss. I don't think whether it was 1 or 2 days or a few weeks or a month, that they did anything. Not with the situation, not with their past, etc.

I prefer and think it better, where they don't kiss and where they know there's something, the love is definitely there, but don't act on it, in in a very very... idk. Conventionally romantic explicit way I mean. I'd rather have this realism, like in term of psychology, and this... I don't know. It is terribly romantic* too, whilst realistic. (* wide meaning including artistic/literary movement.).

For me, timebomb is romantic (wide meaning. encompasses the artistic/literary movement) and poetic, and not into stereotypical and conventional romantic gestures. Not yet I mean, for the MU. (one can be romantic/poetic and have conventional romantic gestures yes. Those are not exclusive in general. Depends how it's done and the context.) Because that's how it was made in canon and what fits their story and them for now.

Ofc in the future I wouldn't mind kisses and all. Would more than welcome them actually. It depends how it'll be done, but I would really more than welcome them in the future.

But right now, where they were in s2, it didn't fit. Even with notions of poetry and romanticism and conventional romantic gesture and personal preferences and thoughts aside I mean. It didn't fit. (psychology and characters and relationship developments and story and context etc )

We didn't need a kiss. (I can like kisses, and more, in pre war, in purely fanon exploratory stuff. But purely as a "this is imagination and fun to explore". My mind is open to exploration and fun. It's for what wants to pass as canon that I take issues with.)

If I go further and into more personal territory, it actually bothers me that one was made. I get it, for most people kisses are needed as a show of romantic love. Like I get it.

And i do acknowledge this is partially personal, why it bothers me that well. we got a more stereotypical conventional show of romantic love. But it bothers me. It feels like a "you all want a conventional show of love in the form of a kiss so here!" whether it truly works or not... It's what's expected so it's what is given.

and it does feel like fan service a little.

I don't like that there's a kiss and I don't want it and... whatever pple believe for themseleves, like be free of course (and again, genuinely happy for those that liked it), but it isn't canon. Like objectively it isn't, but again even if it was made canon by riot I would still reject it personally.

to summarize : I don't think that they kiss fits -where they were with their relationships, where they were individually in their development, the context of the story, psychology, etc.- and was even needed as a show or romantic feelings, like that is outside of personal taste and preferences and feelings I mean.

And ... well inside of personal taste and preferences I also do not like it. I do have a preference for romantic -wide meaning- poetic and not conventional romantic gestures but the love is still there everywhere type of dynamics. (which the mme mv did do and do so well and it has inspired and pushed me so much.)

Also, for me, where they where in s2, it is tentative. For me there is a knowledge and acknowledgement of feelings but no action. Things are still tentative, there's still an open wound, or several, plus the war looming over. They can't show overt big reciprocated gesture of affection yet. It is there but it can't flow freely yet.

I mean again, everyone is free etc etc. But bc everyone is free, i say nope. Not for me.

I am not saying it is a bad MV. I am saying not for me and I think it doesn't fit timebomb in canon to have kissed pre war. And I also as a personal preference prefer them to not have kissed.

(and yes, as a more general parenthesis and tangent: I will be picky about content. It's not bc we don't get a lot that we have to settle for anything. I saw this opinion recently and like no. No no no. We can be picky, we can expect, and demand quality. Actually we should. We can be grateful for what we got without being doormats. we should ask for quality, or we won't get it, if we just settle for anything.

I'm not saying this specific world collide mv is not quality. I am speaking in general. We can be picky. And we can demand better. We should actually, and not just with timebomb or arcane. Bc this sentiment "be grateful don't ask for more" i've seen it with other medias and outside of it and... no? we can and should ask for more and better.)

also : yes. it's not that serious in the end and it's just fiction. Doesn't mean emotions and opinions about it can't exist. But it's just fictional characters and fiction at the end of the day. I am aware.

And it's just a kiss, i'm aware of that too. Would I be sooo upset if it was made canon? no. Would i still reject it for me? yeah. but I wouldn't be upset.

[flwrstqr]

( 好き) : ENHYPEN WHEN YOU CALL THEM "HUSBAND" ────𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗐𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋

( ✶ 𝓢) ⦂ 엔하이픈 + f ! r. 1OOOwc. ──kissing, skinship, petnames && reactions ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀fluff, oneshot 𖥔 ⠀ARCHiVE ૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა

danielle msgs：i've been stocking up on my writing.. ㅠㅠ

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

you’re sprawled across the couch, head resting on heeseung’s chest, his arm draped lazily around your waist. “hey, husband, can you grab me some water?” you murmur, half-teasing, half-testing the word on your tongue. heeseung stiffens beneath you, then lets out a breathy laugh, his fingers tracing little circles on your side. “husband, huh?” he repeats, his tone playful but his voice a little lower than usual. “getting ahead of yourself, baby?” you tilt your head up to meet his gaze, a cheeky grin tugging at your lips. “what, don’t like it?” his smile softens, the teasing edge giving way to something warmer. “nah,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “i kinda love it.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘

jay’s fingers are gently threading through your hair as you sit between his legs on the bed, your back resting against his chest. the soft scent of his cologne lingers in the air, and the world feels quiet, wrapped in the warmth of his presence. “my sweet husband, can you braid my hair?” you ask absentmindedly, the word slipping out so naturally as if it was the most normal thing you said to jay. his hands still for a moment, and then you feel him chuckle softly against your neck. “what did you just call me, princess?” he teases, his voice dripping with that mix of amusement and affection he saves just for you. you blink, realizing what you said, and glance back at him, cheeks warming. “oh… well, you act like one,” you mumble, looking away shyly. jay laughs, tilting your chin back toward him. “if you want to call me husband, i’m not complaining or maybe i'll get down on one knee,” he grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. “anything my pretty princess wants.”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

“jake, can you hand me that—thanks, my husband,” you say casually, not even looking up as you grab the remote. he freezes, eyes widening as a slow grin spreads across his face. “what did you just call me?” he asks, voice teasing but with that little edge of disbelief. you glance at him, all innocent. “husband. why, does it bother you, husband?” you stretch out the word on purpose, your lips twitching as his cheeks flush. “oh, you’re bold today,” he mutters, pulling you closer by the waist, his hand warm against your back. “you keep saying that, baby, and i might just make it permanent.” your heart skips, but you don’t let him win. “big talk, husband,” you whisper. he smirks, leaning in. “don’t start something you can’t finish, wife.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

you’re lounging on the couch, your head resting comfortably on sunghoon’s shoulder as he scrolls through his phone. absentmindedly, you murmur, “husband, pass me the remote?” the word slips out so naturally that you don’t even realize it until he freezes mid-scroll. slowly, he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. “husband? since when were we married?” he asks, blinking in confusion, his voice slightly higher than usual. you bite back a grin, shrugging casually. “since now,” you reply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. sunghoon’s ears turn pink, and he looks away, lips parting like he wants to say something but can’t quite process it. after a moment, he clears his throat. “well… you should’ve told me earlier. i would’ve planned a honeymoon,” he mumbles, slipping an arm around your waist to pull you close.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

“yeah, my husband and i would love to go!” you chirp into the phone, casually leaning into sunoo’s side as your fingers absentmindedly play with his. the conversation wraps up, and the moment you hang up, he’s staring at you, eyes wide and cheeks glowing. “husband?” he blurts, his voice an octave higher than usual. you shrug, barely sparing him a glance as you unlock your phone. “yeah, what about it? husband has a nice ring to it,” you tease, glancing up at him with a knowing smirk. “plus, you’re going to be my future husband anyway, right?” sunoo blinks, his lips twitching before he hides his face in your neck. “you can’t just say stuff like that!” he mutters. you nudge him lightly. “oh, come on. admit it—you like the sound of it.” he mumbles in the crook of your neck, “…maybe.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

you’re curled up on the couch with jungwon, his arm around your shoulders as some random drama plays on the tv. your head rests on his chest, your hand fiddling with the string of his hoodie . “husband, can you get me the popcorn over there?” you say absentmindedly, your voice soft and casual like it’s the most natural thing in the world. jungwon doesn’t even flinch, just leans over to grab the popcorn from the side and hands it to you with a small, amused smile. “here you go, my pretty girl,” he murmurs teasingly, pressing a kiss to your temple. his fingers start tracing lazy circles on your arm as if to remind you just how much he loves being close to you. “what? you’re not gonna freak out or blush?” you tease, glancing up at him. he grins, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “why would i? i know it’s only a matter of time before it’s true.”

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

“husband, can you grab my water?” you call out casually from your spot on the bed, scrolling through your phone. riki freezes mid-step, turning to you with the most exaggerated grin. “what did you just call me?” he asks, already knowing full well what he heard. you roll your eyes. “you heard me. water, please.” instead of complying, he smirks, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “wow, you’re already dreaming about marrying me, huh? didn’t know you were that obsessed.” you toss a pillow at him, groaning. “don’t flatter yourself! it slipped out!” he catches the pillow with ease, laughing as he saunters over to sit beside you. “nah, admit it. you’re practicing for the future.” “riki, just get the water,” you huff, your cheeks heating up. he finally relents, but not before pinching your cheek. “fine, wife, anything for you.”d, can you grab my water?”

[urprettylildoe]

Disclaimer: usually don't write yandere cheaters, since it doesn't rlly make sense for yanderes to, but i wae discussing yandere cheaters w someone in the comment section of one of my posts, and they mentioned an exception, so thanks to them!!!

your yandere boyfriend can't take it anymore.

he's trying so, so hard to be rational and sane about his feelings for you, about the pounding of his heart whenever he's near you. he has never felt so strongly for anyone before, so why you?

everything you do is so intoxicating. the way you laugh, the way you speak with your hands so animatedly, the way you're so cute when flustered — it's making his head spin and his pants tight.

this isn't normal. it just can't be. he's always messed around before, and felt nothing. now that he's in a relationship, you're living rent free in his head 24/7.

so to prove a point, he does the one thing that could ruin his life: cheat on you. it wasn't out of desire, it never was.

at the bar, he found any random person and just kissed them on the lips, waiting for the spark to hit and for his arousal to grow.

no...why is nothing happening? why isn't he excited? he should be, he's done this all his life.

but then he sees you.

all wide-eyed and teary, wobbly lips already quivering. It breaks his heart. oh, no, no, no. what has he done?

what. has. he. done?

he pushes the damn leech off of his body and runs to you. he doesn't process anything you say, just that your screams are loud and that you're crying.

" — I don't wanna ever see you again!"

...

he chuckles dryly, wet eyes snapping open and lips forming an O shape, "what," he smiles. "did you just say?"

you hiccup between your words. the world is spinning around you. he's gone insane. surely. but when was anything about this situation normal? when was your boyfriend, who your friends claimed to love you a little too much, the one who held you every night, and the one who held you every night oh so tenderly, cheating on you normal?

"I said," rubbing your eyes, you try to keep your voice from cracking, "i don't wanna ever see you again. we're done."

this time, he's laughing.

and the next thing you know, you wake up an hour later, but not in your bed.

you're laid down in the backseat of your car, hands an legs tied with spare rope in the trunk of his car, and mouth gagged to muffle your sobs.

he glances in the rearview mirror, a fond smile on his lips as if this is a normal road trip, "morning, babe. sleep well? yeah, it was a looong night, i know, i know."

squirming, you scream profanities into the cloth, elliciting a chuckle out of him. you're akin to a kitten, trying to use her cute lil claws on big ol' him.

"you know, i was stupid, thinking i could stop lovin' you." he speaks suddenly, eyes contemplating. "but i can't, baby. i need you to know that.

but don't worry," he turns around to fully look at you, cooing at how adorable of a mess you are. "I'll make it all better, hm? so sit tight...or you're already doin' that fer me, good girl."

[holdinggrudges]

oxytocin - sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x reader

content: EXPLICIT 18+, porn without plot, genuinely there is no plot, fem!reader, established relationship, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, edging, dom/sub dynamics like..a little bit, soft dom sam, size kink but also only a little bit, no use of y/n

word count: 2.3k

summary: Sam has a thing about control. So when the pieces don’t quite fall into place—when a hunt goes a little sideways, for example—Sam can get a little…twitchy. Antsy, irritable. What you’ve learned, though, is that it’s all too easy to give him back that control. To let him take it from you.

notes: i thought this was finished two days ago and then ended up writing, like, a thousand more words. whoops. anyways uhhh...i've never written anything quite like this before (this is my first ever legit pwp lmao) so uhh if it sucks don't tell me i'll cry.

crossposted on ao3

Sam has a thing about control. You can’t fault him, of course; it’s actually sickening to think about how often his autonomy, his freedom of choice, has been wrested from him. Him turning into a bit of a control freak seems, frankly, like the best case scenario. It does mean that when the pieces don’t quite fall into place—when a hunt goes a little sideways, for example—Sam can get a little…twitchy. Antsy, irritable; you love him to death, but he’s a damn terror to be around when a hunt doesn’t go your way. What you’ve learned, though, is that it’s all too easy to give him back that control. To let him take it from you.

Two thick fingers press into your cunt, slow and leisurely, like he’s got all the time in the world, like you’re not falling apart in his lap. Like he doesn’t have you so wet it’s probably dripping down his wrist. He has your legs hooked over his, keeping you spread and open for him as he teases you. His smirk presses to your temple, your cheek, just below your ear as he plasters your face with soft kisses. “You’re doing so good,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your neck with the praise. “So perfect for me, you sound so pretty like this. Tell me when you’re close, okay, baby?” 

God, you’re not sure you’ll ever get there like this. “Sam, please.” You’re not above begging, not in the slightest, especially not right now. You feel like you’ve been here for hours, panting and whining on Sam’s lap. For fuck’s sake, you’ve still got your sweater on.

You feel more than hear the little laugh your whine drags out of Sam, a rumble in his chest where you’re plastered against him, a puff of air against your throat. “You need some help? Hmm?” he asks, dragging his unoccupied hand up your stomach and rucking your sweater up as he does. At the same time, his fingers curl inside you, stealing your breath and sending your head lolling back on his shoulder. 

“God—” Your hands scramble to grab onto something, anything, searching for purchase. In the end, one lands on Sam’s wrist as his hand cups your breast, the other grasping at the sheets below you, twisting them in your grip. 

His thumb brushes over your nipple, drawing a choked whimper from your throat. “Answer me, baby. Can you come like this, or do you need more?” 

How are you even supposed to think like this, let alone speak? “Fuck, Sam—” you manage to babble out, turning your head to hide in the crook of his neck. The smell of him floods your senses, pine and musk and just a little bit of sweat that lets you know he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. “More. I need more, please.” 

“There you go,” Sam coos at you. Then he shifts the angle of his hand so the meat of his palm grinds against your clit with every thrust of his fingers, dragging a guttural moan from your throat in the process. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? My good girl.” 

Curses spill from your lips like a chant as everything ramps up tenfold and leaves you struggling to keep up. Sam’s fingers, practised and precise, drag against your g-spot with every thrust and, combined with the pressure against your clit, they have you moaning and babbling incoherent pleas in moments. Your chest heaves with your panting, gasping breaths as the pressure in your gut grows and twists and builds until it threatens to send you careening over the edge. 

Sam’s wrist twists in your grip until you release it, letting that hand fall to white-knuckle the sheets below you with the other one. With his hand newly free, Sam draws his fingertips along your jaw and tilts your head up until he can see your face. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, sweet as candy, as if he’s not taking you apart. “Talk to me, baby. How’re we doin’?” 

Oh, he’s such a dick; he knows how you’re doing. Your pussy is pulsing around his fingers like a heartbeat, he knows damn well. He just wants you to say it. But you know what game you’re playing. “Sam…”

He presses his thumb to your lips, and his turn down on a frown that you know—you know—is performative, but that puppy look still digs its claws into your head. “Come on.” 

“Oh, fuck—” Sam curls his fingers, and your gut pulls so tight you almost forget to breathe. “Okay, I’m close, God, Sam, please—” You know it's coming, but it still comes as a stone cold shock to your system when Sam’s fingers still inside you and the pressure of his palm disappears from your clit. Your cunt flutters as the bliss that had been moments away fades out of reach; your thighs futilely trying to close, press together, but you're stopped by Sam’s legs holding them open. 

Sam carefully unsheathes his fingers from your cunt, and you could damn near sob.

He coos over the sound of your whine. “I know. But you're so pretty like this, sweetheart, so good for me.” His hand leaves your face to catch yours as you reach down to finish the job yourself, bringing it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Uh-uh. You trust me, don't you, pretty girl? I’ll take care of you.”

  You narrow your eyes, glaring even as you twist your hand to tangle your fingers with his. “You’re evil.” 

His laugh puffs over your lips as he leans down to press a quick kiss to them. It’s a little uncoordinated, and certainly not the best angle. But it’s a sweet apology. “Maybe I just thought you'd rather come on my cock.” 

Your next inhale is sharp, a response to the way his words make your neglected pussy flutter. You twist a little further, your nose bumping his with how close you are. “Are you gonna let me?” you ask, and your lips brush against his as you speak. 

He hums, and his eyes crinkle with the grin that he presses to your lips. “Say please—” he murmurs, the words washing over you like a wave— “and maybe I will.” Your hand tightens around his.

God, but if the power trip doesn't look good on him. The word comes out on a breath, just barely a whisper of, “Please.” 

Sam swallows the plea with a kiss, draws a gasp out of you as his teeth sink into your bottom lip and tug as he pulls away. “Please…what?” he urges, dragging a line of hot, open kisses along your jaw and down the line of your neck. “Come on. You want it, don’t you? Use your words.” 

You tip your head back, and you’re sure Sam feels you swallow around your need because the next kiss he lands on your throat is biting. “Please,” you say again, “please let me come on your cock.” 

Sam’s smile against your throat is so bright it almost burns, and he releases your hand from his grip. “Anything for you, baby.” He presses one last kiss to the base of your neck before his hands come up under your thighs, lifting you off his lap. “Come on.” 

You help him maneuver you until you’re laying on your back on the bed, and you take the opportunity to stretch your legs out, groaning at the stiffness from having them in that position for so long.

Sam kneels beside you, his hands squeezing at your thighs. “You alright?” he asks. His hands smooth up your legs to your hips before he draws them back down again in a pseudo-massage. 

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, and then you let your thighs fall open to make room for him. You get the pleasure of watching his eyes snap from your face to your cunt, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. “Want you.” 

He lifts his gaze to yours again, and he holds it as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down and off.  “Whatever you want, beautiful,” he says, climbing over you and settling with his hips between your thighs before he pulls his shirt over his head. He tosses it aside and braces his hand beside your head.

Entirely shameless, you reach out to press a hand to his chest, admiring the solid planes of his stomach flexing as he holds himself up to hover above you. His muscles shift, a body perfectly designed to drag the tip of his cock through your folds. Your breath catches in your chest, your hand smoothing up and over his shoulders to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

He smiles, then his hand settles on your thigh. “C’mere,” he mutters, drawing your leg up over his hip. Your other leg follows suit, your ankles crossing. Keeping him close. “There you go.” With that, he presses inside you. He slides in easy—you weren’t exactly hurting for prep—but the stretch of your cunt around him still has you groaning in tandem with him. 

“Fuck, Sam—” you gasp as he bottoms out, his hips kissing yours. Somehow, you always manage to forget just how big he is until you’re so full you feel like you can feel him in your throat. 

Sam’s hand that’s not currently holding him up drags the hem of your sweater up until it’s bunched around your shoulders, leaving you, essentially, bare for him. He trails his fingers down your torso, watching the goosebumps that bloom on your stomach as he traces your skin. “Good?” he asks, his voice tight with the effort of keeping still inside you. 

“Yeah. So fucking full,” you moan, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your breast. “But yeah, I’m good.” 

“Good.” He draws out, dragging along your walls until only the tip is left inside, and you brace for the punch of the next thrust. But it never comes. He lingers, teasing, until you open your eyes to see him smirking down at you. “You wanna beg for it?” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan, pressing your heels into his back in an effort to press him forward. He doesn’t budge. 

“I think you’re gonna,” he says, ducking his head to press his lips to the hinge of your jaw. “You wanna come? All you have to do is say please—” He brushes his thumb over your pebbled nipple, pulling a whimper from your throat— “and then I’ll fuck you so good, you know I will. Just let me hear it.” 

You turn your head to face him, staring him down, breathing in his air as you consider his proposal. You lift your head to brush your lips against his. “Please fuck me.” If you hadn’t been paying attention, you wouldn’t have noticed, but his hand flexes just so where he’s cupping your chest. “Sam. Please.” 

Sam draws you into a proper kiss at the same time he slams home into you. Although, a proper kiss is maybe not the best way to describe it. It’s more Sam licking into your open, panting mouth, swallowing the desperate, airy moans that his thrusts are punching out of you. The pace he sets isn’t fast, but it’s deep, and with his tongue on your mouth and his hand on your tits, it feels like you can feel him everywhere, like there isn’t a single part of your body that isn’t being consumed by him. 

“My beautiful girl,” Sam rasps as he pulls away. He drags kisses down your neck, and then skips right over the bulk of your sweater to scrape his teeth over your nipple at the same time his fingers pinch at the other. Your chest spasms on a sobbing moan, your nails scraping down his back, aching for purchase. The feeling is overwhelming, lighting up every nerve ending you have until the only thing you can think about is Sam—Sam’s mouth on your chest, Sam’s voice soothing heated skin, Sam’s fucking cock taking you apart. “You sound so wrecked, baby, look at you.” 

“Sam—” His name drips from your lips like a mantra, over and over and over like it’s the only thing you can say anymore. You’re so close, teetering so close to the edge that a light breeze could push you over. “God, please—” 

His hand abandons your chest, smoothing down your ribs and over your hip bone. “I got you. I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he says, and then he flattens his tongue over your nipple as he shoves his hand between your bodies to rub at your clit. 

It’s over—your whole body trembles with it, and you cry out as your orgasm crashes over you. Sam’s hips stutter where he’s fucking you through it, and then you feel him spill into you, the spasms of your pleasure having pulled him off the cliff right along with you. 

“Oh, fuck—there you go,” he gasps, his hips slowing to a stop as you both ride out the recovery. “So perfect, so good for me.” 

With the last of your energy, you lift your hands to his face to drag him into a spent, sloppy kiss. “Took such good care of me,” you mutter into his mouth, shivering while he takes the opportunity to carefully slide out of you. “Love you so much.” 

In a few minutes, the two of you will have to stumble out of bed to the bathroom, clean up and truly recover. But right now, Sam’s smile against your lips warms your chest enough to forget about his cum dripping from your cunt. “Love you too.” 

[jewish-joy]

Let's write about Jewish characters in dynamic ways- that make it clear "Yes this is us. Yes, we are living our lives with this happiness and ritual, and we love it. "

Like it's so easy to write about, to have casual observances of Judaism and cultural practices be in the background of stories. I'll write of the few examples I can think of in my frame of reference as a college student-

there's a mezuza in the doorway of a college kid's apartment. Whenever his friends come over, it's a reach for some of them to touch it because both he and the rabbi who installed it are 6 foot three. The others feel like a middle school boy slapping the ceiling as they try and reach for the damn thing.

Characters rush on public transport to get to a rabbi's house on shabbat. The train is due. There's a flurry of regrouping, then trying to call a missing friend to get there, and then the process of methodically hiding Magen davids and jewish objects because getting to shabbat dinner without a situation was an order from college Hillel staff.

A character is half-drunk at 2 AM at the convenience store but has to scan the list of ingredients on their chemically disgusting snack for gelatin.

Said character is prevented by her friends from only sustaining herself on 7/11 slushees "even though it's all kosher!"

There are references to the Purim incident constantly- it is never clarified what happened on Purim.

the hypothetical gang of characters are in the middle of nowhere on a grand magical adventure. The main character notices a mezuza on a door of a cabin, knocks on it, and has an in-depth conversation with the resident. Then, he waves his friends over. "Hey, guys! We have a place to stay tonight!" Because through the magic of Jewish geography, it was discovered that the grumpy old Jewish man in the woods is the grand uncle of one of his Jewish Day school teachers

A character who eats cheesy bacon bagels regularly on passover has a deep respect for jewish ritual items. He kisses the siddurim as they're handed back into a pile, he always kisses his kippah that he wears for ritual purposes of shabbats and minions. He's very careful with these objects and keeps on claiming dropping something He is observant, and he cares so much, but not in the "typical" way. Just... please show the nuance in practice.

The big "going out night" for our fearless college student isn't Friday but saturday night because of shabbat.

The stain on the rabbi's couch is not to be mentioned

A character keeps on mentioning the stain anyway.

Jewish goodbyes after any event take a minimum of two hours and that's why the gang is delayed on their journey to save the world .

I want more representation than characters in novels saying "haha I'm jewish but eat bacon and love Christmas!" in such flat ways. Please feel free to add more hypothetical ways of representation in the comments !!! About or inspired by your own life and experiences ! Let's make this post vibrant!

[astralibrary]

hi @marykedoesart, this is my gift to you for @natsume-ss' spring exchange!

you said you like tanuma/natsume and heartfelt, emotional themes so i went very symbolic with this, haha. i really love the idea of using imagery from the fish pond in tanuma's backyard to represent these two and their dynamic, so that became the concept i ran with. i'll explain my whole thought process below, but in the meantime i hope you like it! 💖

pls bear with me here bc this is going to be very long and wordy lol

so there's a definite theme of separate worlds here; while the environments are both pretty abstract, the idea was that tanuma is sitting in his house looking out towards his backyard where the pond is, representing the "real world," whereas natsume is in a more fantastical underwater setting, representing the world of youkai. also there's the implication that he's sitting at the bottom of the pond, aka completely immersed in that other world, while tanuma can only perceive hints of it in the reflected light & shadow on the wall.

tanuma's side is lit by the glow of the setting sun, and natsume's by an otherworldly blue light. also, there's their clothes: tanuma is in his regular school uniform while natsume is in a yukata, something that pretty much all humanoid youkai wear.

next, their poses; they're both sitting exactly the same way as a reflection of each other but natsume has his head bowed while tanuma is looking up; this is meant to represent their different approaches to their relationship. natsume is definitely more closed off, both as a defense mechanism and because he wants to protect tanuma & keep him away from the dangers of youkai. tanuma, though, is open and contemplative, maybe even hopeful; he wants to be let in and he wants to help, even if it is dangerous.

the lighting reinforces these conflicting attitudes, with tanuma's side being brighter and warmer while natsume's is darker and colder, representing this sort of "optimism vs pessimism" dynamic.

so now, the fish. the bridge between their different worlds, basically. on natsume's side it's a real fish while on tanuma's it's a shadow cast on the wall, which is obviously the original conceit of the scene in the source material: natsume can literally see the fish, while tanuma can only see its shadow. still, even if it manifests differently, it still exists to both of them, so it's a connection between them concerning youkai.

so they're both in their separate worlds, but because of this connection they affect each other, maybe in small ways at first; as the fish crosses over the barrier it leaves little effects, little disturbances behind. on natsume's side, bubbles drift up towards the surface, little pockets of air like little lifelines showing the way, and on tanuma's side little droplets fall and create ripples in the reflected water, these small things that grow and grow outward until they're not so small anymore. little feelings that bubble up and ripple out, hoping to reach the other in their own way.

the fish brings these feelings across the barrier, endlessly looping around them as they endlessly call out to each other, trying to navigate this relationship they have; it's possible to bridge the gap between them as long as they look and listen and learn to embrace the things that make them different just as much as those that bring them together.

and that's about it! my goal was to make a symbolic piece about their struggle to understand each other but with a hopeful note, so hopefully that comes across! i hope my explanation at least sort of made sense and wasn't too confusing! (to be completely transparent i only had about half of that in mind while i was drawing it, the rest sort of came together as i was writing this. neat!)

and finally, here's a still frame in the original higher resolution so you can see it a bit nicer! 💖

[tegabyte]

Inquire within!

I'm trying to keep this low enough impact that I can accomplish them. I can sketch fairly quick enough, even if it's a full body (though that DOES take me longer), and I think I can manage this.

Feel free to peruse my art tags and see if I can draw for you.

Some other notes under a read more because I talk a lot:

I can be contacted via tumblr askbox, at the least, and I can contact you for more discussion via DMs after that. I also have a discord, and if I actually have a density of commission requests I can make a discord server to invite you into for more conversation. (I have several servers, admittedly, including one for artists/creatives, but it might be rude to clutter those with commission talk.) If you must reach out to me somewhere else, I have a bluesky or you can email me (ageofzero@live.com)

I have a ko-fi for payment, or paypal. I've used the latter more often and I can figure out the invoice thing if that's your preference.

I'm a primarily humanform artist. I can do human +wings, perhaps horns, or a mermaid tail, but I typically draw humankind and human shapes. I'm not set up to be a furry artist, and I want to be able to work faster than having to figure out animal shapes on the fly would allow me. I might be willing to draw a small animal companion with your character of choice, but that's a big maybe.

I know I wrote the vague "portrait" up there in the image, and I stand by that, but I realized that could also include things like video game avatars, and (variable)-sonas (trollsonas, for example). Still in the human limits, but with additional fun involved.

I'm pretty mild across the board as far as internet users go, and I forgot to write it on the image itself, but I won't do heavy gore stuff either. Blood and wounds are okay, that's fairly mild, but I won't draw guts spilling out or severe eye damage or stuff like that. That's probably not in the purview of sketch commissions anyway, but I would rather not have to deal with gore.

I will give you a quote if we have to negotiate additional details that'll cost more than my base price before I get started, and you're free to say that you can't commission me if you want at that point. No hard feelings, I get that money's tight across the board. I'm trying to find the bridge between making it worthwhile for what I'm offering and also making it reasonable for me to earn the bare amount of what I need.

I'm okay with drawing your ship of choice if you're willing to pay for it and give me a little more time to work out the positioning of characters. hand holding is hard, haha. I won't draw lolicon/shotacon, and I still won't draw sex, but we can talk around what else there is.

I'm not up to doing a fully rendered/fully colored commission right now, I haven't had a good track record with going through the full process digitally. Unless we have a really compelling discussion and I get paid real good, or I do it traditionally after that discussion, that's not something I'm offering fully.

I will send you the commissioner the full size png when I'm all done, but I'll post a smaller tumblr-size jpg on my blog, after payment is received. Unless you'd rather otherwise, in which case we'll talk about it and I'm willing to leave it unposted. You're not allowed to post it yourself or use it (as an avatar for example) without proper credit to me, and DEFINITELY you're not allowed to feed it to some image generating "AI" dataset.

I will offer these in traditional options (pencils and micron pens), but I can't stream the process on discord.

I don't have a formal contract to offer anyone, and I don't wanna figure out a google forms thing. My conditions are fairly reasonable and within my means, I think. Don't post my art or give it to AI, you don't get the image until I've gotten paid.

I think that's it? I hope that's it, I've been out of the game for a whiiiile.

...this is a top tier Genesis I've drawn for this commission post tbh

[polarmoon]

🪐 oasis springs aerospace is hiring!

OASIS SPRINGS AEROSPACE (OSA) is an aerospace startup located in oasis springs, arizona. we are seeking to form a small, diverse team of new graduates with backgrounds in physics, biology, and computer science. if you are interested in aerospace mechanics, astrobiology, or astrophysics, apply today!

this is a public call for sims to join my occult legacy save!

i'm looking for 7 sims to become christopher's coworkers + more sims to populate oasis springs.

submissions will be open until june 15th.

🌴SUBMISSIONS CLOSED! thank you to everyone who applied :)

📝 guidelines

young adult human sims only!

i am looking for sims that are engineers, biologists, and computer programmers that would be interested in working in aerospace. you can get creative, but try to stay within those niches!

please write a small biography about your sim! it will help me select who i think will be best for the job. you don't have go super in depth, but their bio will help me select the final sims :)

you don't need to set your sim up with degrees or skills or anything if you don't want to! i can do all of that in game myself.

💌 how to apply

simply make a post introducing your sim and tag me in the post! feel free to send me an ask telling me you posted one, just in case tumblr eats the notification.

i will contact you via askbox after the post goes up and we'll organize a private download, so make sure your ask is open! i will be downloading every sim that is submitted.

i will reblog every submission under the tag #deanOSA

⭐ selection process

the deadline for submissions is june 15th, 2025. sorry for the short window - i'm really excited to play asap lol. i'll be selecting the sims and posting about them sometime before june 21st, 2025!

i will be selecting 7 sims to be christopher's coworkers for the duration of the generation. using the club feature, these sims will act as his coworkers, and will ultimately become his and percy's primary social circle.

i am ideally looking for at least two sims from each category (engineering, biology, computer science). i want to create a well balanced team for this project, but if i don't get enough submissions for each category, i'll just cope :P

the sims will be chosen based on... vibes? i might rng if i'm stuck between who to pick. ultimately though i want to pick whoever fits best with christopher and the vibe i have for the team.

don't worry though! all sims submitted will be added to my save and live in oasis springs for the whole generation! because i use kuttoe's home regions mod, they will be the only sims populating the town, and so they'll be the sims interacting with my sims most often. they will also essentially be re-populating my save since i recently culled a bunch of random townies lol

i will absolutely be posting updates if anything interesting happens with submitted sims :) and who knows, maybe a future dean will marry a descendent or something!

🧬 sim creation info

i have all packs, so there's no pack restrictions on what you can use to dress up your sims!

your sims should have one outfit per category. don't worry about their main outfit being work appropriate - i'll be giving each sim an additional work outfit. if i need to add or change anything, i'll make sure to keep their aesthetic consistent!

cc is okay, but keep it to a moderate amount. mm preferred, hair + clothes are okay, but don't go buckwild on accessories or anything like that (unless it's important for their backstory or identity, like necessary scars, medical equipment, identifying features, etc)

if i choose not to use any of the cc given with the sim, i will change the item to something consistent in style that i already have in my game. (for example, a green t-shirt will be swapped out for a different green t-shirt)

please don't use custom body presets! custom face presets and sliders are okay, but just know that they might get messed up if i ever need to make tweaks.

feel free to use skin details and makeup, but the sims will have my defaults, and i might change up some skin details and makeup to fit in with my game better. i'll still retain their general look though! i might just go with stuff i have in my game instead of new stuff that i wouldn't normally use.

you can either link the cc they use in the post, or include them in the dl with their tray files. i don't mind either way.

that should be everything!! if you have any questions feel free to ask me. no judgements if you need clarification on anything i mentioned here :) i know it's a lot lol!

🚀🌴☄️👽🛰️🌻

taglist of people who replied to my initial interest check: @nervousgnome @girlwithnojobcom @peachiyuu @simbugge @cozylattesims @simswoon @thecutestgf @panicsimss @gerbits @moontaart @iliketodissectsims @pixelblooming @spectermansion @alxandergoth (if you no longer have interest in applying, no worries! just wanted to tag everyone that replied to my interest check just in case they didn't catch this post in time for the deadline. <3)

(the lot in these pictures that i will be using this generation is "astronaut eco pod" by teaboat on the gallery, edited a bit!)

[lingulaca]

"I guess you're new to this too"

Wayne doesn't have a place to stay, so he joins your family for dinner.

៚ word count - 1,175

៚ author's note - i looove wayne so i had to write smut about him. what a delicious boy am i right guys ?

also reader is intended to be the nurse's daughter

"...cause it's like, obviously the better option but she wanted me to ask you since you're the guest." You shifted, getting comfortable in your spot right next to Wayne. He just sighs as he leans back, ice pack over his right eye. The leather couch squeaked. He'd gotten into another fight, you assumed. "Yeah..." He wistfully mumbles.

"That... wasn't an answer." You turned your head to glance at your mom. She was still in the kitchen, prepping carrots and celery. Her music only got louder every second. "Huh?" Wayne yawned. The car ride to your house went on for so long he was on the cusp of slumber. "Chicken or fish?" You scooted closer, looking into his eyes to make sure he hadn't completely dozed off. He gave a lazy smile, hands falling to his sides. "I'll just tell her you said fish." You got up before being stopped by Wayne's fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt. "What kind of fish?" He feigned curiosity, Truthfully, he didn't give a fuck about the fish, his appetite was non-existent as a result of whatever meds your mom made him take so he likely wouldn't eat. "It's... flounder." It was Wayne's turn to grin now. "I love flounder." He didn't. He loved looking at your boobs. The angle happened to be perfect.

"It's good, right? The rice? I didn't overcook it, did I?" You rolled your eyes at your mom's words. Luckily, your younger cousin says what everyone was probably thinking. "Auntie, nobody cares." You notice Wayne right beside you, chuckling as he shovels what's on the plate into his mouth. "Is the fish okay? I seasoned it." He nods eagerly.

Suddenly, you get an idea. Taking one last sip of your drink, you tap Wayne's arm a few times before rushing off to your room downstairs. Wayne turns, causing his chair to creak. His thought process is a bit delayed, but he's always been curious about you so because the only one on one conversation you two ever had didn't satisfy that curiosity, he follows you. "May I be excused, miss?" He groans, the pain medicine from before was starting to wear off. "Oh of course, of course! Bathroom's in the middle of the hall."

Wayne's startled when he finds you sitting on top of the dryer. "Jesus, fuck, you scared me." You laughed, moving to lie down instead. "Sorry, wanted to surprise you..." "Well, consider me surprised." He leans on the wall, eyes focused on the sliver of skin above your waistband. "You should probably lock the door. She'd freak if she found out you were here with me alone." He then clambers to do as you said, struggling a little. "Let me-" He shakes his head. "No, I got it. Your door has a weird lock." Oh, right. "It's broken. The original one, I mean. My mom, that crazy bitch, she destroyed the thing with a knife a couple years back." Wayne' looks concerned but he keeps his smile. His brain feels all cloudy. "Why the hell would she do something like that?" You shrug. It was too long of a story, and you didn't wanna scare your guest away. "Early menopause, I guess. How'd you get that uh, black eye?" Wayne sat on the stairs right in front of your washer and dryer. "Some guy was pickin' on some kid." "Wow..." Your legs swung while you sat back up. "Yeah." Wayne's fingers tap the wall rhythmically. "So, you got a boyfriend?" He asks to make conversation. You smile, tone lowering in a teasing way. "Hm...?" "Nothing I just, uh... y'know, girls don't usually do all this with a guy they barely know if they have a boyfriend waiting on them. You invited me into your room."

"Alright, you got me, I don't have a boyfriend. Satisfied?" You're towering over him now, making him speechless. He looks up at you with his big, brown eyes. "C'mon, I got a king size bed, no reason for us to be sittin' over here." Wayne follows you again, as mindlessly as last time. Your bed is comfortable, lots of blankets and pillows and the mattress isn't one of those too soft ones. "I like your bed." He realizes that he's probably too close, though he doesn't move. "I like you." You grab his hand which makes him jump. Your hands were gentle and warm in contrast to his rough ones, still cold from being outside all day. "What?" He mumbles. "What?" You reply, lips only an inch away from his.

He's sure he died and went to heaven when you kissed him. He gasps when you pull him close, nearly on top of you at this point. "Um, I uh..." He averts his gaze. This can't be real, he thinks. Oh, but he knows it is. He knows it's real when he feels your hands go to his hair, treating the strands with more softness than he deserves. "Wayne," You whisper to him. "It's okay, just do what you would normally do." He doesn't know what he would normally do. He's never gone this far with anyone, but he'll be damned if he reveals that information now of all times. "Y- yeah. Yeah, I will." His voice is full of meek confidence.

"Aww, you don't know how to?" Wayne's face flushes. "Don't..." He wants to tell you to stop talking to him like a baby, but all that comes out are wordless whimpers. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet vanilla scent. He grinds his hips against yours, making you bite your lip as to not let out any sounds. "What I... what I normally do, yeah." What Wayne normally does is stay in his room and jerk of maybe twice a day. He assumes he'll have to find a new daily routine now that he's your guest.

He finds your entrance after getting multiple layers of clothing off you, pushing your panties to the side out of frustration. He looks into your eyes as he slips his first two fingers in, he read somewhere that girls love that. "Wayne, fuck," Your eyes roll back as you grasp the sheets under you. His free hand slid up your skirt. "Already, huh? I guess you're new to this too..." His fingers push upwards, poking and prodding at that spongy part deep inside you. "Wayne, mmm... I'm oh my god, I'm cumming..." This makes his eyebrows raise briefly before getting right back to the task at hand. What he lacks (for now) in dirty talk, he makes up for in technique. His thumb comes up to swipe over your clit which makes you finally reach your peak.

Wayne pulled his fingers from you and scanned the room in search of a rag for only a few seconds before nonchalantly licking your juices off of his hand. "Sorry you didn't, uh..." You start, having just caught your breath. "Nah, it's fine." He grins, showing you his no longer soaking hand. "Squeaky clean."

[thatguywrites]

Could you do driver + wags taking care of drunk driver!reader after first race win? :)

Drivers + Wags my beloved

A/N: Disappearing and remembering to post on a random day? More likely than you think :/ I'm on vacation, so I don't have much time to write, I'll be back home this weekend though so I hope to get back into the swing of things

Drivers + Wags with Race Winner Boyfriend

Oscar + Lily

Oscar, pretty recently had his first win, so he gets how it feels

He did not however, go as hard as you've gone in celebration

Both Oscar and Lily are pretty introverted, so they'll go to a bar with you, but only to stay in the corner keeping their eyes on you

Make sure you don't keep jumping off tables

Once you calm down a bit and seek them out, they just call a taxi to bring you home

Where they then have to wrestle you into bed, to prevent any injuries

The next morning they treat you to breakfast in bed, as another congratulations, and to help a hit with the hangover

Every ten seconds they'll remind you that the trophy, and the win was real

The smile on your face is identical to the smile on theirs

Max + Kelly

The celebration begins right there on the podium, where Max shoots almost all of his champagne into your throat

The fans question it, but you're too distracted to notice

The two of you instantly go to the bar, where you keep celebrating with your teams all night, before you're both calling Kelly to come pick you up

When she picks you up she can't help but poke fun at the race winner turned drunk

But your pout puts an end to that

In the end, she has to guide the two of you to bed, and make sure you stay there

Once she gets into bed with you though, there's no reason to get out

Charles + Alex

Charles lifts you on his shoulders in the club and has to pass your drinks up to you

The three of you turn in early for some... other... celebrations

After that Alex and Charles pamper you beyond belief

A bath with all of Alex's bath salts and candles

The finest chocolate and plenty of water

And the warmest cuddles to lure you to sleep

In the morning the three of you eat cereal in bed together, giggling about the day before's events

Eventually you'll have to get up, but not for now

Alex + Lily

Once you're off the podium, Lily is the first to hug you, and she doesn't let go for the rest of the night

Alex joins soon after, pushing any jealousy down (especially if you won with red bull) to celebrate with you

Ya'll club hard

Lily keeps convincing you to take shots

At some point you take a body shot off of Alex

It is a wild night

After the three of you somehow manage to stumble home, none of you are in the state to care for yourselves or each other

So you all collapse into bed without a shower

In the morning you take a bath together and nurse eachother back to health

But it is a long process considering how hungover all three of you are

Valtteri + Tiffany

Valtteri runs from the Mercedes garage to the podium ceremony faster than your car

After you get off he kisses you so hard you see stars

Whispers something in your ear about licking the champagne off of you later...

Before you go out Tiffany gives you hugs and kisses as well

But only you and Valtteri end up going to a club

You end up in a drinking contest, and after you win Valtteri has the sense to bring you home

Turns out Tiffany created a huge pile of blankets and pillows on the bed for their winner to relax

They hand feed you some fruit and crackers before passing out along side you

Taglist: (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl @spoonfulofmilo @lokisen @op-81-lvr-reblogs

[multimilfs]

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[afawnable]

★ . . . god I'm newly eighteen and I'm so fucking horny. so to try and fix it I'm being the worst student known to man. turning up late. wearing the shortest skirts to show off my bare pussy. the thinnest tops with no bra so people will stare at my boobs. all so that I'll piss off my teachers so much. that they'll drag me to the staff room and lock the door.

★ . . . tell me to strip naked. and when i refuse they force me down. ripping and cutting the clothes off my body. not caring that they are literal scraps on the floor. a slut like me doesn't deserve clothes. especially when I've been such a bad girl. they'll take turns punishing me.

★ . . . spanking my ass till it's redder than the apple I stole from my math teacher that one time. then shoving my holes full of sex toys. forcing me to take orgasm after orgasm. all of them laughing at me while abusing my poor swollen cunt.

★ . . . writing words all over my body in permanent marker. like 'free use slut' 'cum dump' 'brain dead fuck toy' 'rape toy' 'breeding bitch' and more. and just as I'm about to pass out they slap me awake and drug me with asphoradic.

★ . . . telling me the main event is about to begin. forcing me to suck off and eat out all of my teachers while apologising for being such a bad girl. before forcing me to take multiple dicks at a time. stuffing me full of cum. taking me in multiple positions. recording me in the process so they can jake off to the video's later.

★ . . . they make sure all my holes get bred. to the the point where I'm covered in so much cum it's disgusting. but don't worry any cum that doesn't find it's way into my holes they'll make me lick myself self clean. a bitch like me shouldn't waste perfectly good cum.

★ . . . at one point the female teachers start feeling neglected and a bit left out while the male teacher rape all my holes. so they get out there straps and have there way with me. suffocating me while making me suckle on there massive tits forcing me to drink their milk like a good girl.

★ . . . and when my mouth isn't busy sucking on big fat heavy breasts it's it's busy chocking on nine inch straps and sucking on fat juicy pussy lips. the are loaded with my cum so I'm forced to taste myself over and over again.

★ . . . suddenly the door opens and in walks the principal vice principal and the school parent committee. the moment I see them I beg for them to help me to save me from his mess. but they just join in stripping down to nothing and joining in on the fun.

★ . . . I don't know at what point I stopped fighting them. maybe when they tied me down to the coffee table and started pouring hot wax over me. or maybe it was when I felt all of those hands touch and grope me. twisting my nipples leaving angry red bites and hickeys all over my body and shoving stuff in my holes to keep me nice and plugged. wouldn't want any of that spilling out now would we?

★ . . . or maybe it was when my best friends mom was riding my face. while she smacked my tits red with a flog. smacking harder when she noticed I slowed down telling me to put more effort in saying it was the reason I was such a bad student. and scolded me for being a bad influence on her daughter

★ . . . "thank god my sweet jessie is nothing like this, your enjoying this aren't you getting fucked like some cheap whore god but god do you have a talent with that tongue of yours. if I had it my way i'd lock you in my basement and keep you as my pet how does that sound? I'd buy you a nice shiny collar keep you in tight skimpy outfits or better yet nothing at all, turn you into mine and my husbands favorite bitch. what was that? no? I can't hear you guess your mouth is so full of pussy it's left you speachless not like i'd give a whore like you a say anyway."

★ . . . while my or three other friends dads filled me up with there dicks. two in my pussy and one in my ass. the three of them casually talking about work and fishing. and all discussing how my parents should take advantage of having such a slut daughter.

★ . . . "if I had one like her I wouldn't stop raping her no matter how many time I would get her pregnant, not to mention she would make a fortune if I rented her out. not that a slut like you would mind isn't that right sweetie. oh my wife would love you, young dumb and so willing to spread your legs. I can't blame for jason wanting to be friends with you"

★ . . . all of them agreeing to inquire if they could 'borrow' me a couple times a week. and continued to fuck me while my teachers graded my tests from final week. all naked and now nursing glasses of wine as they enjoyed watching me get fucked to death.

★ . . . eventually the principal vice principal and the school parent committee all had to leave. but not after taking there fare share of photo's and video's of my messy fucked out form. while also covering me in one final orgasm. before stepping over my limp abused body. leaving without another look.

★ . . . leaving me with my teacher once again. who first scolded me for failing all my test. before beginning my punishment. but stopped for a second when I cried saying my parents are waiting for me. see I had been trapped in the staff room all day and the sun was minutes away from setting. but they all told me not to worry as they had called my parents to let them know I will be taking private tutoring sessions which require me to stay in school full time. and they shouldn't expect me home for the foreseeable future. and to my horror they agreed signing the legal paper work with out batting an eye.

★ . . . "your folks were rather eager to sign you over to us, though I can blame them a stupid fucking whore like you could test even a saints patience. oh don't cry love we've found something your actually good at, being a brain dead slut! isn't that amazing?"

★ . . . and with that my punishment began. rape me till I was pregnant. which I didn't even have the energy to fight. as I was too tired and not on birth control. so I was definitely getting knocked up. and there was nothing I could do to stop it. while they all whisper filthy words in my ear. about how I'll definitely get pregnant with there rape baby. so I'll be forced to drop out and have to rely on them. but I shouldn't worry they'll all take turns looking after me. locking me up in there homes. keeping me naked well fucked and full of cum. letting them and there partners heck even there parents have there way with me. like the true whore that I am. but that was for later !!

[starry-stay-s]

Red Lips and Promises

★ Sylus x fem! non!mc reader

★ fluff

★ inspired by Gabriela by KATSEYE

★ Authors note; my first work... kinda scared but I mean, I like it so. feel free to leave any commentary on my writing!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in front of the elegant full length mirror located in your shared bedroom. You made sure not a hair was out of place, that your dress fit just the way you wanted, and that your makeup was perfect. As you’re giving yourself a final glance over, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, his scent enveloping you while his head comes to rest in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet smell of your perfume. You glance him over, observing the way his tailored suit fits him perfectly, making him all the more handsome. This time, he wore his new suit, grey with thin, white pinstripes and a red tie that matched your lipstick perfectly. 

“You look stunning as usual, my love. Ready to go?” he gently murmurs against your skin, his lips and warm breath ghosting over your neck as he leaves delicate kisses. You lean back into his chest and make eye contact with him in the mirror, your glossed lips curling into a smile.

“Yeah, just need my heels and I'll be ready.” You reply softly before gently untangling yourself from his warm embrace, going the pick out your heels and then settling onto your shared bed, heels in hand. You begin to bend down to put them on before a shadow envelopes you. You look up to see Sylus bedding and kneeling down before you, grabbing a heel and gently holding your ankle. He places the heel on your foot delicately before repeating the process with the other heel. He look up at you, his crimson eyes full of love and devotion as they stare into yours. 

“Enjoying the view, kitten?” He says teasingly, his lips curling into a small smirk. He stands up and holds out his hand for you, which you take and stand up.

“What view?” You remark sarcastically, a playful glint in your eyes. He simply let's out a low chuckle before walking with you to his garage filled with luxurious cars. He takes a second to choose which one before grabbing the corresponding key and guiding you with a firm yet gentle hand on your lower back. He opens the door for you before getting into the driver's seat himself.

 He revs up the engine, a low purr that echoes smoothly in the vast garage. He glances over at you before driving out and onto the road. The car ride is filled with a comfortable silence as you loom out the windows and enjoy the city lights of the N109 zone. With the low hum of the radio, Sylus keeps his eyes on the road, occasionally stealing glances over at you, admiring your beauty and the way your eyes shine.

After about fifteen minutes, you arrive at the ball, Sylus stepping out and handing the valet his keys before stepping over to your side and opening the door, a hand offered out for you. You gently take hold of his hand and get out, smiling at him and leaning up, placing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, baby.” You whisper sweetly in his ear before wrapping your arms around his, following him inside, a small smirk forming on his soft lips. You smile up at him, admiring the sharp line of his jaw and nose, resisting the strong urge to run your fingers along them. You shift in his arms slightly, moving so his hand is now on your lower back, gently guiding you to walk with him as you two make your way up the grand stairs that lead to the ball. Sylus quietly watches you, making sure you don't misstep.

Once at the top of the stairs, you walk in, side by side. The ball was being held in a huge ballroom, with multiple crystal chandeliers lighting the room. The marble floors were sleek and smooth, the walls simple yet perfectly fitting for such a room. Alongside the right side wall were tables filled to the brim of food and desserts, on top of the constantly passing by waiters with trays of hors d'oeuvres and bottles of drinks. In the right corner near the back of the room is a large, luxurious bar, with people coming and going with various drinks in hand. You glance back at Sylus, only to find him already looking at you, his eyes slightly softened as he gazes at you. 

“Enjoying the view, baby?” you mimic his words back at him, a playful smirk on your face as you look up at him. He lets out a low chuckle before guiding you further into the ball.

“How could I not? I have an awfully adorable kitten by my side.” He replies glancing down at you briefly as he leads you with his hand on the small of your back. You find yourself playfully rolling your eyes, now in front of the bar you saw earlier. He guides you to an empty barstool, catching the bartender's attention. He hands his black card to him, telling him that you’re on his tab before turning to look at you.

“I'll be back, kitten. I have some deals to discuss with partners and then I'm all yours again. Stay safe, and don't miss me too much, hm?” He says low enough for only you to hear, his eyes taking in your face and stopping at your lips for a second longer before meeting your eyes again. You nod, leaning in to give him a soft peck on his lips, murmuring against them after you pull away slightly.

"I'll be fine, you know that. Now go so you can come back to me faster."

He smirks and whispers back, "Yes, ma'am." With that, he stood up straight and briefly fixed his tie before walking away again and up to a group of men who immediately welcomed him and began talking. You watch him for a second longer, your gaze lingering on his frame before turning back to the bar, flagging down the bartender and ordering a drink. You watch carefully as it's made in front of you, taking a sip of the refreshing drink once it's handed to you. You continue taking sips of your drink, soon ordering another one. About fifteen minutes passed since Sylus left to talk to his business partners. You watch him now with your second drink in hand, how he seems to be making rounds. You take a sip and watch him from over the rim of your glass as he begins walking to the other side of the vast ballroom to yet another group. You begin to look away, but then you catch a glimpse of a fiery red near him.

You turn back and see a woman wearing a red dress that's clings to her tightly, her hair done almost as elegantly as yours with flawless makeup, approach Sylus. He barely spares her a glance as she strikes up a conversation with him.

Or tries too at least. She's talking, but he obviously doesn't care and isn't listening to a word she says.

Now, you weren't really the jealous type, you know just how deeply Sylus loved you, how deep his devotion ran, leaving him as nothing but your devout follower; but there was something about this woman that got on your nerves. Maybe it was the way she looked up at him, battling her eyelashes, or the way she leaned in far too close for your liking. She was practically begging to have her ass beat by you with the way she was acting.

You sighed as you took a final swing of your drink, setting it down on the bar with a thud before getting up, fixing your dress and making your way towards the two of them. Your steps are calculated, measured and exude enough energy to part the crowd like the red sea. Partygoerd watch you with curious eyes, wondering what might be happening. You stood side by side with Sylus, putting on a fake smile that didn't come near to reaching your eyes. You hold out a perfectly manicured hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Im Syluss girlfriend, and you are...?"

The girl stares at your hand and then back at you, barely taking your fingers into her hold as a makeshift hand shake, introducing herself.

"Gabriela, Im surprised Sylusnever mentioned me before." She says in a mocking tone, grin smug as she retracts her hand. You mocd to in between the two, Sylus watching your every move silently, but eith curious eyes. You give her a smug grin and lean in, voice quiet but firm.

"Im sure you've got the wrong idea here, Gabriela. He came with me, and he will leave with me. Those eyes that barely glanced at you are mine, alongside everything he is, and you in your tacky and cheap dress wont ever change that. And if I'm being quite frank, he doesn't give a damm about you, so I suggest you back off of my fella, Gabriela."

You pull back and watch her face distort into shame and disbelief. You give her a little mocking wave, making her huff and stomp away in anger. Once she was out of sight, the ballroom started up again. The once quiet room was filled with the quiet murmur of conversations, the soft clink of glass and silverware. You finally turn to face Sylus, who has hooded eyes that roam your figure, finally landing on your face. You stare into his crimson eyes, wondering what he could be thinking now. On cue, he leans in and whispers into the shell of your ear.

"That by far has to be the most attractive thing you've done, kitten." His warm breath ghosting over your neck and ear, leaving goosebumps and chills all over you. You simple wrap.ypur arms around him in a loose hug as he places delicate kisses over the side of your neck and jaw,whispering again. "Let's go home, hm?"

You hum in agreement, a small smile gracing your face as the two of you make your way out of the ball side by side, your arm wrapped tightly around his. You two get into the waiting car, making your way back to the base, the city lights lighting up the night. You simply stated out the windows, Sylus's hand on your thigh giving you an occasional squeeze. Soft jazz flows into the air from the radio as you both remain in a comfortable silence.

You both return home a few.minuyes later, Sylus carrying you into your shared bedroom. He kneels in front of you again, reverantly taking off your heels as you sit on the edge of the bed. Once hes done he puts them to the side, staring up at you, his head resting on your knees. His eyes meet yours and your breath hitches; the crimson depths filled with such a strong emotion, devotion, love, reverence. It wad all bottled up into his red eyes that looked at you like you yourself hung up the stars and moon. You cups his upturned cheek gently, which he leans into, eyes fluttering shut.

His lips leave soft kisses on your palm as he whispers. "Thank you, kitten. I know i don't say it as often as I should, but I love you." He opens his eyes, their depths meeting yours as she smile sweetly, leaning down and kissing his lips. The moment your lips are slotted together, Sylus melts into your touch even more. You pull away just enough to rest your forehead on his, eyes closed.

"I love you too, my dragon." You whisper softly into the air. You can hear a faint chuckle before his lips are on your again. Slow, careful, lovingly. He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours again. You open your eyes and smile at the sight; your lipstick staining his lips, your gloss adding a faint shimmer to his.

"This shade suits you, my dear. Maybe you should wear it more often." You say quietly, a playful look on your face. Sylus looks into your eyes. Really looks and just grins, nodding his head.

"As often as you'll allow me too, sweetie."

You smile and stick out you hand between you two, your pinkie raised. "Promise?" You asked.

He chuckles and links his much larger pinkie with yours.

"Promise."

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Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! I'll see when I write the next story, until then!