#I was trying to say that the part that you even knew my height during the dream was scary. But was joking and meant that it isnt.😁

[reidrum]

wine or wine not | s.r

spencer reid x bau!reader

a/n: i think i love writing buildup to smut than actual smut, but i hope you guys like this lmk what you think. this was requested with the prompts "look at me when you come on my fingers" and "muttering compliments kissing down their body" and it was so much fun to write aaaaahh, my requests are open so please send more!!! guidelines in pinned <3

summary: you're hopelessly pining after spencer at a rossi party, and when you run into him in the kitchen when you're getting a refill and he asks if you want to explore the mansion with him, who are you to say no?

cw: 18+ minors dni pls, fingering, p in v, nipple play, soft!dom!spence, spencer being ridiculously hot its criminal, ooc penelope but it was for the plot, pining idiots, wine cellar sex wine cellar sex wine cellar sex, public sex, morgan and prentiss being dumb, rossi being a smug lil shit, a dumb ass title sorry i didn't know what else to name it lol

wc: 4.1k

★・・・・★・・・・★・・・・★・・・・★

these days rossi was always finding some reason to throw a party at his mansion. you’re not exactly sure what it was tonight, a birthday? an anniversary? regardless, you and the team appreciated the excuse to unwind, dress up, and have non murder related fun.

the sun is setting over the rolling hills the mansion is perched on, and you’re sat at a table with the girls— penelope, jj, and emily discussing penelope’s latest dating escapade. you’re trying hard to pay attention, you really are, but it proves to be difficult when you’re focused on the man showing magic tricks to the kids across the room.

you look on yearnfully as spencer pulls a coin from jack’s ear, all the kids are laughing and cheering and he has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hellooo?” penelope waves a hand in front of you dramatically, “i’m getting to the good part and you’re off in space!”

you jolt back to the present, “sorry pen, i’m listening i promise. so he shows up to your door with maple syrup and feathers?”

“YES, anyways so then he’s like i have a proposition for you…” penelope continues her story but you can’t help but zone out again. your eyes drift back to boy genius as he finishes another trick for little henry before rising up to his full height. it’s in that moment his eyes meet yours and softens as he offers you a small wave. 

you return the gesture back which causes the girls at your table to look in the same direction and they come to a glaring conclusion too quickly.

“ah, that’s why you’re not paying attention. too busy ogling mr. houdini over there.” jj remarks.

“i am not!” you scoff.

“oh you so are,” emily says, “when are you going to let yourself feel your heart’s full content.”

“first of all, i can’t stand you. second of all, it’s not worth it. he would never feel the same about me.” you say as emily rolls her eyes.

this time penelope interjected, “oh don’t be so cynical. you haven’t even tried how could you even know?”

but you did know. it’s not that spencer didn’t like you, he treated you the same as any team member, but that was just it. you wanted him to see you as more. during cases you would try to impress him or make breakthroughs in the hopes he would tell you ‘good job’. a couple times you brought him coffee when you got yours, just to hear him say your name and thanks. work conversations rarely seemed to move past small talk, but you’re a little sure that’s on your part because he just made you so nervous. and like, he’s a profiler. so you’re sure to some degree he knows how you feel, and it just makes you regress into your safe hole even further because you think he’s being nice by not acknowledging it and saving you the embarrassment.

the girls knew about your harbored crush for a month now, since the last bau drinks night you got a little too truthful during truth or dare. you were much younger in comparison to your colleagues, so they offered their sympathies at your unrequited love and tried to get you to come out more and let loose.

which is one of the reasons you’re sitting in rossi’s living room, wine glass in hand, as morgan recounts the craziest date hes ever been on. the other reason, which you wouldn’t admit to anyone, was so you could admire your (not) lover from an acceptable distance and not risk embarrassing yourself.

so here you are, two glasses deep, rising up from your spot on the floor telling everyone you’re going to get a refill. your heels click against the hardwood floors all the way to the kitchen where you just so luckily run into the (your) man of the hour.

“hi.”

you were looking down at your feet as you walked to the kitchen, your head snapping up to meet the voice, “hi spencer.” you said softly.

“if you’re looking for more wine, i think emily just grabbed the last bottle,” you must have outwardly deflated as he continued, “that bad out there?”

“only so much wine can get me through penelope’s sexcapades and derek’s crazy one night stands.” you joke.

he chuckles back, “oh i know, why do you think i’m hiding out in here?”

you laugh again before an uncomfortable yet strangely comfortable silence falls between you both. unknowingly you both take turns gazing at each other, indexing the others features as if this moment would be the only chance you got.

you’re about to take your loss and leave when spencer speaks up again, “you know, i wouldn’t put it past rossi to have a secret wine cellar somewhere.”

“honestly, you’re probably right. what kind of italian just runs out of wine.”

spencer pauses slightly before saying, “do you want to see if we can find it?”

you look at his eyes again and catch a glint of mischief? concern that you’re wine-less? whatever it is, you take the bait.

“i’m game.”

—

rossi’s mansion was humongous. it was well known that he was loaded from his years in the bureau and multiple book deals, but holy shit, the rooms just seemed never ending, and none of them were a wine cellar.

“i don’t know spence, i'm starting to lose hope, and debating to revoke rossi’s italian card.”

you’re both in one of the many studies and are about to leave to find another room, when spencer notices a smaller door next to the study. he slowly opens it and peaks inside to find a descending wooden staircase. he looks at you with a smirk, “i think we just found it.”

he holds the door open and gestures you to enter first, following shortly behind you as he shuts the door. he makes sure to check that it’ll still open even after it’s shut, and you both relax a little seeing it still unlock. you move down the stairs, gripping the handrail and praying you don’t trip over your heels and fall to an embarrassing demise.

spencer descends a step behind you, trying so hard not to let his eyes wander down your bare back to the curve of your hips. once he steps off you both go in opposite directions to explore. you take in the vast amount of shelves and wine racks, taking note of how it seems to be separated by year and by type. running your fingers over the labels, you’re intrigued by a shelf with the year you were born, and pause in front of it. you reach up to a shelf that is just a smidge taller than you, hoping to grab the neck of an old wine bottle.

even in your heels you’re struggling, attempting little hops to try and reach. you’re about to give up when you feel a warm hand on your right hip, while an outstretched arm on your left seamlessly grabs the bottle and brings it down to you, “careful sweetheart, don’t wanna break that pretty head of yours.” spencer says lowly.

excuse me, what the fuck did he just say.

you inspect the bottle he so kindly brought down for you, but it’s a futile effort. you can’t even remember why you wanted to see it. all you can think about is your hands clamming up, sending threats to the wine bottle it’s holding. your mind is fogging up fast, and you’re trying to order your brain to say something instead of going mute while he’s still an inch behind you. with his hand on your hip still.

“oh god,” you start shakily, “you scared me spence.” you angle your body to the left so you can attempt to show how unbothered you are and look at his face.

good save (not).

he’s staring down at you with a hint of a smirk on his lips, like he’s keeping a secret from you. his eyes are intently focused on you when he speaks again, “just didn’t want you to get hurt. s’all.”

with his close proximity, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating through both of your chests, hell it was so loud they could probably hear it upstairs. he’s still got you caged in front of him when he continues, “any particular reason for this bottle?”

“yeah no, i just, wanted to see what bottles of wine he had from the year i was born.” you answer, watching as spencer moves back to give you space when you turn to face him.

he nods, “did you know that wine is associated with the greek god dionysus?”

“no i didn’t, actually.”

“it’s really interesting,” he moves forward a tiny inch, “they call him the patron god of wine, but a lot of people often forget that he’s also the god of fertility and ecstasy.”

oh. “ecstasy?” you whisper confusingly.

“yes, he believes when you drink wine it gives you emotional and physical pleasure.”

“how does that even work?” you nervously laugh.

spencer reaches his arm above your head, never breaking eye contact, and grabs two wine glasses by their stems, “you wanna find out?”

with only so many words, you give another nod. he uncorks the bottle with ease and pours out two glasses, with his having a little less than yours, most likely due to his slow but steady return to drinking casually. clinking your glasses, you take a big gulp hoping it’ll satiate the building nerves. but you’re watching the way his fingers wrap around the glass, his veiny hand showing prominently and you’re unable to focus on anything else.

“you know, i’ve been running something of an observation the last few months.”

you take another small sip, starting to feel less nervous, “oh yeah, what about?”

“you.”

it took everything in you not to spit your drink out all over his suit. 

“me?”

he nods after another sip, “i’ve been watching you, and not in a creepy way i swear. but i’ve been keeping track of your habits; how you take your coffee, your tells when a case gets too much, things like that,”

that didn’t seem overtly terrible to you, you knew spencer was an observer of his environment, always seeking out patterns to aid his predictions. you’re about to speak when he cuts you off.

“i’ve also been noticing how you seem to change, when i’m in your presence.”

you feel like the sweat and nerves are just oozing out of you at this point, and he continues his verbal taunt.

“i’ve seen your breathing rate get faster,” he moves a step forward, “how your cheeks rise with the faintest red, kind of like right now,” another step forward, “and how you try to avoid looking directly at me because you think i’ll find out everything if you do.”

the room has to be at least a thousand degrees at this point, heart beating so fast it’s probably gone to the moon, and your brain just unable to have any coherent thoughts at the realization that maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought.

he takes one final step to close the gap between you and delicately places two fingers on the pulse point of your neck, “i couldn’t figure out your heart rate from afar,” he pauses to count, “but now that i know it, i can come to my conclusion.”

the air in your lungs has all but escaped, nowhere to be found. “and wh- what is your conclusion d- doctor reid?” your voice betraying you by dripping with anticipation.

“that i make you nervous. do you agree? do i make you nervous?” he says while you feel the hot breath of his whispers ghosting on your lips.

your mouth opens to say something and then shuts, because what the hell are you supposed to say? any and all logic has left the room, but the last working neuron works to make an unthinkable conclusion of your own. there is no way.

spencer moves his fingers to grip your chin between them, guiding your face to look directly into his copper eyes, “i asked you a question angel, do i make you nervous?”

you’re cornered, “y- yes.”

“why’s that?”

“spencer..”

“is it because you’re thinking of me the same way i think i about you?” his thumb starts tracing the outline of your lower jaw. he’s pressed right up against your chest, his other arm covertly moving to snake around your waist. the way you lean in subconsciously towards him, paired with your silence is all the confirmation he needs.

the pad of his thumb traces your lower lip, dragging it downwards a little. there’s a hitch in his breath when his eyes flicker from your lips back up to meet your eyes again. he quietly mumbles, “can i?”

your eyes widen slightly, relishing in the way his arms are holding you firm and steady. this was about to really happen. you’d been pining after him all this time, believing you were destined for unrequited love. but as spencer stands in front of you, looking at you as if he’d been poisoned and the only antidote is your lips, you can’t help but wonder if there’s been a similar weight on his side that’s been holding him back too.

so you nod once again, and trust your voice this time, 

“yes.”

you’re fully expecting him to go into it full force, and kiss you like a man starved. but he lets the premonition bubble for a little longer as he so agonizingly leans down and closes the gap, teasing you with the ghost of his lips on yours without making contact. he waits a moment, and just as he predicted your subconscious betrays you again and you impatiently lean up in an attempt to meet your lips together. spencer can’t help but smile before he softly pressed himself against you.

the feeling of his mouth on yours is something you can only describe as cosmic, like a star exploding into a supernova, emitting a powerful and luminous show of energy. it’s all consuming, the light reaching every neuronal end of your body and electrifying it ten times over. your hands reach up to tangle in his curly hair and he lets out the faintest whimper, spurring you on to grab it more earnestly.

spencer loses all restraint. his hands begin furiously mapping out your body, running up and down your back, reaching down to grasp a handful of your ass. he moves his hands down further to grip your thighs, effortlessly lifting you to sit on the counter behind you. spencer slots himself between your legs and continues kissing you, his mouth marking a hot trail to your neck as he mutters between, “is this okay?”

“please don’t stop.” you moan softly.

his fingers move to deftly slide the straps of your dress off your shoulder, mirroring the movement on the other side while continuing to work his down your neck. he slides the dress far enough down to expose your chest, immediately taking the swollen nub into mouth and running circles around it with his tongue. you let out a sharp gasp at the sudden warmth, whimpers leaving your throat. he repeats the motion to the other one as you cradle his head closer in an attempt to keep him there, as if spencer had any plans of leaving.

he moves his mouth back up to meet yours again, in a lust filled attack sending shock waves straight to your core. you move your fingers to work the buttons of his dress shirt and spencer moves his hand further south and under the hem of your dress, something you don’t notice until his thumbs are rubbing circles onto the plush of your inner thighs. it makes you falter on his last button as he pushes your legs farther apart,  inches closer to where you desperately need him.

spencer looks directly into your eyes as his thumbs reach up to hook onto the side of your panties and slowly move them down your legs. he groans outwardly at the resistance caused by your slickness, “all this for me, baby?”

you’re rendered speechless watching spencer and his ministrations but he continues, “you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?” his fingers are less than an inch away from your cunt, “i see you walk around the office in those tight pants, your hair and makeup all done, and those blouses jesus,” he reaches your entrance and dives in to collect your wetness, you brokenly moan as he begins to spread it all over. “couldn’t tell if you hated me for the longest time.”

“c- could never hate you.” you whine.

“i know baby,” he slides his middle finger into your hole, “just imagine the fun we could’ve had if we figured this out earlier. but it’s okay, we have all the time now.” he sets a steady rhythm before inserting his ring finger, actively working you towards a barreling orgasm.

“spencer, fuck, oh god.”

“you’re so fucking wet, bet you’re gonna come soon, right? gonna make a mess on my hand?” he baited.

you’re in shambles, one hand deathly squeezing onto one shoulder the other turning white from the grip you held on the counter. the moans won’t stop falling out of you, he works his fingers so skillfully within you it’s impossible to hold any resolve when he curves upwards and hits that spot.

your head tilts back, reeling from the intense pressure coil building inside you, the peak about to hit you any moment now. spencer uses his free hand to move your head back down, “look at me when you come on my fingers.”

that was all it took for the white hot to ravage through you, engulfing every sense and leaving you breathless. he continues moving his fingers through your orgasm, watching as you come back down to him. you don’t waste a second reaching for his belt to unfasten it, slipping your hand down to palm him through his boxers. he moans in your ear as he feels you slip inside, your small hand moving up and down, and getting impossibly harder when you take your hand back up to spit on it to then return to your movements.

you take the moment to lean into his neck and leave bites of your own, finding his sweet spot right behind his ear and sucking hard. spencer’s hands have taken a spot on your lower back beneath your dress, pressing so hard with his fingertips you know there’ll be evidence of this night tomorrow.

“spence..” you mutter in the crook in the neck.

“yeah baby?” he whispers back.

“can you fuck me now?”

he preens at your boldness, and wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers down enough to fully free himself. he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter before pulling his length out and giving it a few strokes. he lets it glide between your folds, gathering your wetness as lubricant as it hits your clit. both of you are panting hard realizing the anticipation has led to this moment. spencer positions himself at your entrance, never breaking eye contact with you, and watches your face drop into a perfect ‘oh’ as he pushes in.

spencer is absolutely wrecked as he hears your breathing pick up, reveling in the vice grip your cunt has on him. you’re no better above him as you’ve broken eye contact to stare at where the two of you connect, watching as he disappears into you and the feeling of being so full overtakes you and you’re letting out soft expletives. he bottoms out and stalls for a minute, waiting for you to signal that you’re okay for him to move. in the time he’s waiting, he takes a moment to really look at your face, how absolutely ruined you look, your cheeks are deeply flushed, hair flying in every direction, and he can’t help but tell you, “you look so pretty.”

your eyes soften as you gaze back at him and nod slightly, and he pulls back all the way to ease in again experimentally. once he hears you moan out loud at the movement, and feels you tighten even more around his cock, he loses any and all restraint he’d been holding onto this entire night.

his hips pick up the pace in harsh snaps to your core, sending ripples of pleasure all over you. your arms are wrapped around his neck attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you, “spencer…fuck…” you drawl with a whine.

“i got you baby, gonna take good care of you, promise,” he says back in between grunts. the sentiment causes you to squeeze on his cock again as he attempts to continue, “if you keep…fuck…keep squeezing me like that i’m n- not gonna last long.”

one hand in his hair and the other leaving dark red scratches on his back, you feel your second orgasm of the night hastily creep up on you. he can tell you’re close and quickens his pace as he thumbs your clit. you moan his name out once more before reaching your peak, feeling like your body is on fire as he continues to fuck you through it. 

spencer feels his own release building up, “wh- where should i..?”

“inside, i’m on the pill just please come inside me.”

it was more than enough for spencer’s movements to stutter as he released his hot load in you, groaning out loud as he finished.

he slows to a half, still hilted inside of you but softening post orgasm. you’re both breathing heavily as you look up at each other and take in the other’s fucked out faces. spencer presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before resting his own on it, “that was..”

“intense,” he quirks his eyebrows at you, “in a really really good way.” you add quickly.

he smiles down at you, “i wasn’t kidding, what i said earlier. i think about you an embarrassingly high amount each day. i’d love to take you out and make this a real thing.”

“yeah?” you gape incredulously, “thought i was the one embarrassing myself if you were able to notice all those things i did when you were near me.”

he laughs, “no, no it was endearing, definitely made it easier to be as forward as i was tonight knowing you wouldn’t freak out.”

you’re about to respond when you hear the door to the cellar open, you’re both hidden from view but know it’s only a matter of seconds before someone catches you. you both look at each other in panic as spencer pulls out of you, tucking himself back in and zipping up his pants. you grab your panties from the floor and begin to pull them up your legs when he notices his come dripping down your thighs. he swiftly gathers the release on his fingers and shoves it back inside you, causing you to let out a near pornographic moan as he pulls up your underwear all the way.

“did you guys hear that?” a voice sounding like emily said.

“see this is why i don’t do big houses like this, too many creepy ass noises.” morgan.

“mansion,” rossi corrects, “and for a couple of profilers, you both are stupid if you don’t know what that sound was.”

your eyes widen to match spencer’s, you’ve been caught.

“was it a mouse or something?”

“no more like, bunnies,” he joked with an innuendo, “come on, i found the bottle i was looking for, let the bunnies do their thing so they can leave and go home to do whatever it is bunnies do.”

“you’re a weird old man david…” emily muttered.

the door closes and you both let out a big breath, and burst into a fit of laughter, “how the hell are we gonna show our faces to him on monday?” you whine.

“that is a monday us problem,” he starts, “but right now, i think it’s time for me to take you home.” he winks.

two stuffed bunnies show up on yours and spencer’s desk on monday. you’re both redder than a tomato as rossi chuckles when he walks by. prentiss and morgan are still confused.

[h2llish]

Wait devil, have you seen those vids of people touching up their lipstick and a hand comes into frame to smudge it away and then the camera pans to that person and they just have their face filled with lipstick stained kisses?? Yeah imagine that but with Vil or Cater (or anyone else but I feel like the latter would actually record and post his version on magicam) May or may not be a request tehee

⁀➷ ˖ TREND MARKS

notes ─── i actually hadn't seen those videos until now when i searched it up! hope you enjoy :)

VIL SCHOENHEIT, CATER DIAMOND ─ a couple trend, and red wax ♡ fluff, gender neutral, lowercase intended, established relationship, not proofread

you actually hadn't been the one to bring it up ─ at least not with the intention to recreate the videos that were flooding your magicam. (mostly thanks to the videos cater would send you. why he was so obsessed with them as of late you weren't sure, but being as close to the heartslabyul junior as you were, you were on the receiving end of his spamming.)

you'd shown your boyfriend a few of the videos, usually as a way to fill in the silence during the nights you would sit with your boyfriend as he completed his nighttime skincare routine. you commented on the spam cater had subjected you to with this trend and how cute it was, but just as an off comment.

besides, you knew even if you wanted to, you couldn't possibly participate in such a trend.

vil schoenheit was a popular, might you even say famous, person, putting too much of your relationship out there was risky. while he was happy to tell some of the more trusted people in your lives about the relationship, he was scared to put you out into public view. seven knows what the public and press would do if they learned vil was dating someone.

it was like every night ─ stretching yourself out across your boyfriends sheets and scrolling boredly through magicam, sighing and hearting the videos you had finally seen too much off in your messages (thanks, cater.) vil sat at his vanity, occasionally glancing at you through the mirror ─ not that you noticed.

but when you heard vil call your name, you looked up, blinking at him as he approached you. you had come to memorize his routine and knew how long it took him, so you knew he couldn't be done yet. you set your phone down beside you to be forgotten, giving vil your full attention, "yes, my liege?"

vil hummed, and you noticed the color on his lips ─ a pretty red that you weren't used to seeing on him. "sit up." he ordered, although his voice was soft. you complied, pushing yourself up until you were almost similar height to the housewarden.

you sent your boyfriend a confused look as he grabbed your face. but then he started to explain, and you understood quite quickly what he was doing. "i won't record this, but i think this'll do."

he started with a kiss to your forehead, then your right cheek, then your left. you could feel the stain of the red on his lips everytime they met your skin (or maybe that was just you becoming hyperaware the more flustered you were) before he pulled away only to come back to kiss another part of your face.

you hadn't realize you had shut your eyes until you no longer felt vil's lips on you, to which you slowly blinked them open until you were looking at him again. he was smiling, or perhaps smirking was the better word, as his eyes trailed all over your face.

vil couldn't put your relationship out there, he wouldn't put that stress on you. he had fans who probably wouldn't be all too happy to know about a relationship (would you be harrassed? he didn't want that.) and the press, who would hound the two of you with sensitive questions the moment they learn who you are. he loved his job, but he's not sure you could handle the public eye like he could. ─ at least that was his only reason, until now, staring at you with the marks of red caused from his own kisses, he decided he'd try to keep your relationship out of the public eye as long as he could. whether it be covered in lipstick stains or laying on his bed waiting for him to finish his skincare, you were a sight for him to keep.

vil was interrupted from his throughts as he felt your thumb brush below his lip, wiping away the red that had rubbed off his lips. you smiled at him, and vil sighed, leaning down to press a final kiss to your lips before stepping back and releasing your face.

"i'll be done soon."

he learns you'd taken a picture of your face covered in his lipstick marks when he receives a picture from you the next day, with the message, i like the red.─ and well, perhaps he was deciding which colors would look good against your skin next time.

cater diamond liked to keep up with the latest trends ─ perhaps as a way to keep up the mask of his outgoing persona ─ and he liked to show you those latest trends. sometimes he'd add to those trends with a photo or video of his own. and sometimes he liked to ask you to make a video with him, although they weren't always trends for couples, he liked to include you.

there was a new trend on magicam that's recently caught cater's eye ─ and of course, being his partner, you were automatically the one he turned to when he decided he wanted to create a video as well.

he sent you some of the videos featuring the trend a few times, before outright asking you to make a video with him ─ you're not quite sure why he wanted to do this trend so bad. maybe because it was a couple trend, either way he was hooked on doing it with you, and you weren't one to deny your boyfriend.

when you agreed, you hadn't really expected to be on the receiving end of it ─ but when he pulled out a stick of lipstick and smiled brightly at you, you think you understood why he wanted to do it so bad. (you wouldn't call it sly of him, but cute. although you wished cater would let you give as much affection as he does to you.)

you didn't protest when cater sat on your lap, lips coated in red as he smiled at you. ─ he was so cute, you think, although you're sure he thought the same about you as he covered your face in kisses, the feel of the wax lingering every time he pulled away. you kept your eyes closed, hands resting softly on his waist as you waited for him to finish. (but you realized eventually how long it took just to leave a few lipstick marks on your skin. oh, cater really was so cute.)

when cater finally did pull away for good, lingering a final kiss on your nose as a finishing touch, he quickly grabbed his phone and the stick of lipstick set down on the bed beside you. he still sat in your lap, obviously with no intention of moving ─ fine by you.

he turned back to you, lipstick at the ready and the camera on magicam pulled up. "ready?" he asked, and you hummed, removing one of your hands from his waist and holding it up, just out of sight of his phone but ready to do just as you had watched many do on video.

he pressed record, raising the lipstick to coat his lips just as he done before, purposefully smudging it on the corner. that's when you raised your hand into view of the camera, using your thumb to wipe away the excess wax. that's when he turned his phone just enough to get your face into view, showing off the multitude of lipstick marks. it was your first time seeing yourself, seeing as he was quick to get into the video before you could get a glimpse at the picture you likely painted. ─ your face was covered in a rose-red, and the more you looked at it, the more you felt the color on your skin. you really couldn't help the smile from forming on your face, just before cater clicked stop.

he quickly replayed the video ─ although with how often he watched the videos of the trend, you're quite sure it was unnecessary ─ and when he deemed it good, turned to you, "can i post it now?"

you smiled, moving a strand of hair from his face, "of course, if you want to."

"you probably want to clean that off, i have makeup remover in my bathroom." he told you as he finished posting the video, looking up at you with a pretty smile, highlighted by the red still on his lips.

you nodded, eyeing the lipstick he'd set back on his bed while he was busy checking the video for errors. "before that," you grinned as you grabbed it, and held it up for cater to see, already bringing it to your own lips, "my turn."

i love cater, i really should write for him more

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

[yuellii]

catch me if you can, salvatore

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 there are quite obvious red flags in your relationship, and they’re all from him

feat. neuvillette, zhongli, pierro ( separately )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, the old men of genshin ( i’m so sorry ), established toxic marriages given the prompt, possible fontaine lore inconsistencies

> [part one] . part two

NEUVILLETTE. always too serious

Your bedroom was a space sadly quieter than even the outdoors. For at least on your doorstep, the sounds of crickets were heard, the mechanical noises of distant construction were there—but here, there was not even a sound.

Perhaps you were too sensitive. But you also thought a spouse had every right to feel love and respect from their husband, and you felt none of that. The suffocation of this Fontaine air only brought up an even more suffocating man, and you fear you may lose your breath before even coming to your senses.

“You’re up late.” He stood right behind you at the opening of the balcony. Of course, you didn’t hear him coming from inside that silent fortress of a household. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

His words—you wish he didn’t say them, for they’ll unwillingly fill your thoughts with the idea that he cares. But sometimes ( or perhaps most ), you were too foolish to counteract that.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply said, continuing to stare out into the blue aura of the nation. A technicolor world made of music and machine—but unfortunately, your husband was only like a machine. “Was so caught up awake, completely immersed by your current court performance,” you yawned sarcastically.

He grumbled, “It’s a court hearing, not a silly performance.” Then, he joined you at the bar of the balcony, perhaps far too distanced from you for your liking. He was never next to you; always paces away just light tonight. “And I’ve been telling you, I can sign you up as a spectator or part of the jury.”

You almost snarled after he failed to pick up your sarcasm. “I’d rather die before you did that,” you scoffed. “Me? Sitting in that stuffy courthouse whilst you talk for hours? If it were my way, Her Grace would’ve had her way a long time ago. Perhaps you can learn from her, sometime. It can loosen you up for once.” He turned to glare at you.

“Oh, spare me the levity.” From the way he suddenly straightened his back, presenting himself a towering height over you, you knew you were about to be scolded. “If you cannot take the Court of Fontaine for what it is instead of a laughing stock, than perhaps you should be the next one on a treason hearing for exile.”

Your stomach dropped. As inconceivable as it sounded, you wouldn’t put it past him with how booming his tone was. And… coming from your own husband… “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, good Monsieur.” To very man that wore your wedding band. “But spare me one truth…”

“Right now, are you my husband, or are you the Chief Justice?”

You immediately regretted the question once his eyes looked ready to kill.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

ZHONGLI. overprotective

Sunrise, Midday, Sunset, Midnight.

You could only see the light from the cold glass of your window, or the freshest air from your porch. Sometimes the fresh sea breeze of the harbor, but that was more of a rarity.

You loved Liyue Harbor; so did your husband. Living in Jueyun Karst was safe, sure, but it was boring. And maybe, there was a time that you loved the harbor so much during Lantern Rite—a time where lanterns graced the sky and fireworks were heard all the way from your small home in Minlin. So much, in fact, you almost felt like Rapunzel in those fairytale books when she leaped out of the comforts of her tower to chase the lights.

And even moreso like Rapunzel when Zhongli saw you at the harbor with a look of horror on his face, not caring of the genuine smile you carried before dragging you away by the wrist. Perhaps it was then that you felt more like his scolded child than his ‘beloved’ spouse.

Could he not see the light in your eyes as you pranced around the harbor? Could he not understand how boring it was to be cooped up in the mountains for your ‘safety’? It sucked, it really did. And it sucked even more once you tasted freedom at the harbor, once you met people that would never shackle down your life to never experience the many joys that Liyue had to offer.

“Am I your partner, or your controlled child?!” you seethed once he dragged you back inside the house.

“I am simply bringing you back after you failed to listen to me,” Zhongli calmly stated. Calm, he was also so calm, emotions be damned. “I told you not to go to the harbor, especially on your own. Have I told you what happened before through the tale of Osial?”

You coughed out in exasperation. “You’re acting like this during a festival?” There was a clear betrayal in your voice—it was truly something he had been hiding from you all this time. “You’re just going to let me be locked up in here, because you think a festival is unsafe?”

“It’s for your protection.”

“‘Protection’, give me a break, Zhongli.” You were near desperate to go back, like once you got an inch of freedom, you suddenly needed it all—but perhaps he only saw you like a partner who needs to be more controlled. “I married you for all your adventurous tales,” you reasoned. “You sounded much more excitingly interesting than you actually are, I fear.”

He continued to stare at you, face hardening into something of a glare like a parent disciplining a child. You hated it. You hated this, you hated him. And as he walked back out with the door locked by some force, you could only wonder how you married a man so cruel.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PIERRO. a master manipulator

“You know I love you.”

The large pads of his fingers massaged coarsely through your hair at the very top of your head, brushing the your scalp almost delicately like a doll.

“Right?”

It felt almost like Hell itself to feel flutters in your stomach from the way the deep mess of his voice resounded in your ears. It was akin to signing a contract with the devil, like this feeling of infatuation was a demon’s sickly trick. “I do.”

He hummed in contentment. Not like you pleased him with your answer, but like you answered him correctly, as if this some sort of test where there was only one right answer.

He had you seated down on his lap, and it still made you feel like a doll. But there was an uncertainty in it—one that made you question if you should be feeling used and disgusted, or in love with being pampered by your husband like this.

You married a leading man of the most dangerous elites. Perhaps the fluttering feelings pulling at your heart were more of a warning sign than something good, but you couldn’t help it when he made you feel so special. Special words, special treatment—so painfully addicting and so obvious to win your favor for your hand in marriage.

“When the time comes,” he whispered once more, as if speaking the holy words only pure lovers could dare to hear, “would you die for me?”

You should’ve know this was coming, truly. It should’ve been clear the moment he courted you, and painfully obvious once he wanted to wed you. A puppet he could control at his will, someone who looked so innocent compared to the dangerous looks of the Fatui—a person easily stricken by love and compliments, easily you.

But he captured your heart in a way that was devouring, like your love was swallowed into a black hold the moment you showed any weakness. He trapped you in a web you could not escape once pulled in, and you feared you were truly doomed from the start. But that was how the leader of the Harbingers worked; and that was how you gave up your life.

“Yes, I would.”

[heartsforvin]

THE GREATEST

billie fr was in my head makin this song cus why did it describe everything that happened to me in the past so perfectly ???? MORE TOXIC!VINNIE CUS YALL FREAKS N LUV HIM (twin)

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cussing, arguing, use of pet names, mentions of being used, mentions of sex, toxic relationship,degrading words used, if i missed anything lmk !

summary: it was clear vinnie never truly loved you and only wanted you for one thing, but coming to terms with it was the difficult part

during the early days of your relationship with vinnie, everything was great. nice dates, movie nights in, he even took you out of the country a few times.

as the months progressed and days went by, you noticed a change in the man you grew to love.

he’d become distant, only really calling, texting, and coming to your place in convenience to himself.

the two of you haven’t been together for too, too long, only about two years. in that two years you’ve shared parts and sides of you you’ve never shared before.

so when he stopped coming by just because he truly missed you and actually wanted to see you, you were crushed.

you didn’t know how to tell him, so you’ve kept it inside for months on end.

you love vinnie, truly, truly love him, but you’re feeling like he doesn’t love you anymore.

or never did.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

“baby come on, just once for me, please?”

you and vinnie were laying in his bed, you cuddled into him with your leg around his. his hand was on your ass, squeezing every so often, trying to tell you he wanted something.

you knew what he wanted, it’s all he’s been wanting for weeks now. the two of you barely even spoke an actual sentence that didn’t include him asking for sex.

he barely complimented you, barely touched you in the soft, loving way he used to, barely even talked to you.

“vinnie, no.” you push his chest as he leans in for a kiss.

he scoffs and rolls his eyes as he unwraps himself from your embrace. your heart sinks at the loss of contact.

even if the relationship is crumbling, you still love to feel his warm embrace, still loving that feeling, the feeling of him in your arms.

“when you’d become such a prude? you used to be all up on me, now it’s like i don’t exist.”

you just sit there staring at the man in front of you, internally scoffing to yourself at his choice of words.

you weren’t a slut and you definitely were not a prude. you used to love sex with the blonde, that was until it only became sex.

he was really good at it, that you cannot lie about. things change though, he’s changed.

vinnie stands there with his arms crossed, thinking to himself what he definitely should not be thinking when the two of you are in the middle of an argument.

“come on,” he coaxes, rubbing your arm in the way he used to when the two of you would be in the mood. “you know you won’t be mad anymore once we start.”

now that, you actually do audibly scoff at. not believing he even thought to say something like that.

all it’s been for the past few weeks is sex, him asking you for nudes when he’s out of town and ‘misses you’, and not enough actual love.

you’re surprised with yourself honestly. you love him so much, that’s why you can’t escape.

you have to though. it’s obviously clear he doesn’t love you the way you do anymore.

“you don’t love me.” the words come out so soft, you almost didn’t hear yourself speak.

vinnie crosses his arms over his chest again and rolls his eyes at you. of course he loves you, why would he still be with you if he didn’t?

“i love you, baby.” the pet name sounds sour coming out of his mouth now that he’s only using you for one thing.

you cringe at the name, hoping for once he’d actually call you by your real name for once.

standing up off the bed, you’re now face to face with the man. the height do is noticeable and for a minute, you think it’s cute how vinnie is a few inches taller than you.

you open your mouth to speak but suddenly nothing comes out, like you’re at a loss for words.

oddly enough, you kind of are. for weeks on end you’ve felt like just an object to the man. you can’t believe this is happening, you thought he was the one.

sitting back on the bed, you cross your legs as you face your boyfriend, who still had the same expression on his face.

“no, you don’t love me, vinnie. you haven’t for weeks — what makes you think that?!” his outburst scares you and you physically jump.

he does nothing to comfort you though, you’ve pissed him off and he wants to know why you think he doesn’t love you.

“all i’ve been to you is sex. any time it’s convenient to you, any time your dick is hard i’m your girlfriend again, but only for a short amount of time. i’m sick of this!”

sobs escape your mouth, cheeks and eyes red as you cry out to your boyfriend. all you’ve ever wanted was unconditional love from the boy in front of you.

vinnie’s silent in front of you, suddenly having no words to speak. you sigh, a choked sob leaving you as you wipe your tears.

“i can’t keep fucking doing this, vinnie!” you scream out, letting out all your pent up anger.

he just lets you, taking it head on as you cry your heart out to him.

you so badly want to crash into his chest, for him to hold you and reassure you that everything will be okay.

“baby—no, you do not get to fucking ‘baby’ me when you’re quite literally the one using me!”

vinnie knows everything you’re saying is true. he stopped loving you awhile ago but didn’t want to let you go.

he knew it was wrong, he knew using you for his own pleasure wasn’t right and you deserved so much better.

“do you know how it feels to be used?” you ask, sniffing and rubbing your tear stained cheeks.

vinnie nods his head, knowing full well. “doesn’t feel good, does it?” vinnie nods at your question.

you stand up, coming face to face with him again. “when did you stop loving me?”

that was the first question you wanted the answer to. you needed to know exactly when he stopping showing you the affection you did him.

vinnie sighs. “i want you to know first, that in the beginning i did love you. i loved you so much it physically hurt,” he starts, making you tear up. “but after awhile it just became too much, and all i really wanted was sex.”

you stay silent as he continues. “i didn’t want to break your heart and break up, so i just thought if we stayed together and kept doing what we do, it wouldn’t hurt you so bad.”

you scoff and laugh at his words. “you thought instead of coming to me and telling me you didn’t love me anymore, and that fucking me just because you didn’t want to hurt me, is better?”

your tone is visibly irritated, and vinnie knows he’s fucked up big time. he rubs his hand over his face and sighs.

“well when you put it like that it sounds awful.”he tells you. once the words leave his mouth he immediately wants to take it back, it was such an obvious statement.

you push his chest in frustration but he doesn’t get very far, landing back on his feet. “maybe because it is?” you question sarcastically.

you can’t stand the way he’s acting right now, like this whole thing was absolutely no big deal. you loved him with your whole heart, he knows things most people don’t.

you trusted him.

“i didn’t want to hurt you.” his voice is soft, low tone. he truly didn’t want to hurt you, he just thought this was the best thing to do.

he stopped loving you, that he knew. he wanted to keep the sexual aspect of the relationship though, so he didn’t think much of it.

“why didn’t you just come to me instead of basically faking your love for me?” your voice cracked at the words, making vinnie’s heart break on the inside.

he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tries to piece the right words.

“i really don’t know,” he starts. “everything became too much, i told you that. i wanted to tell you, then something got in the way and then i just decided to do the one thing i know that would put all of it aside for a bit.”

you knew what that was, and hearing him say it out loud instead of the thought lingering in your head hurt more than you could imagine.

you felt disgusted, ashamed at yourself for letting him just outright use you like that. for the sex, for your body, everything.

vinnie reaches out to grab your hand, but you back away and shake your head.

the last thing you want right now is for him to touch you in any sort of way. everything hurts, and feeling his touch would completely break you.

“i made it all look painless because i didn’t want to upset you,” you speak, looking down at the ground before facing the boy in front of you. “so i guess i hurt myself in the end, but you’re still the cause.”

the cause.

vinnie’s chest tightened at those two words. he can’t believe he did this, cant believe he was the cause of you feeling so disgusted and ashamed.

“i’m not going to say i’m sorry, because i know that won’t help it any. looking back, i fucked up more than ever and i feel absolutely fucking awful for putting you through this.”

tears well in your eyes as he continues. “you’re one of the most kindest, sweetest people i know, and knowing now how much hurt i’ve put you through over the past few weeks, makes me feel awful.”

he sighs, hoping he’s making sense and hoping you’ll take his words into consideration.

“i will say im sorry for making you feel used. when you sent those things while i was out of town, i thought it wasn’t just for my desire, but yours too.”

you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “i did it to make you happy. so i wouldn’t upset you. the pictures don’t bother me as much as the sex does,” you explain.

“you knew i took that seriously, you knew that was important to me when we first got together. yet, you took it for granted.”

you did consent to everything he had done, so it wasn’t like it was unconsenual and nothing you really didn’t want.

he nodded his head, knowing you were right. “i know, and i feel terrible for making you feel like this.”

you sigh and try to dry your eyes. sitting back on the bed, you move up to the headboard and hold your legs against your chest.

“i just wanted what i gave you.” you whispered.

vinnie knew what you meant. you gave all your love to him but he never did the same, just used you.

“you don’t know how long i waited and waited, hoping that one day you’d give me the love and passion i gave to you,” you sniffle. “but it never came.”

vinnie stays quiet, having nothing to say because he knew nothing would make up for any of this.

mere minutes passed before you spoke up again. you looked at him, teary and red eyed before saying, “i think i need some time to regroup and space,” you say quietly. “just give me a minute and i’ll leave.”

vinnie nodded and left his room without a word. the minute his bedroom door shut, that’s when you let it all let go. you couldn’t hold back anything.

you felt so stupid and oblivious to the situation. you did notice change in him, but you didn’t want it to be true.

after a few minutes, you wiped your eyes and stood up off the bed. you grabbed your things and put your shoes on, leaving vinnies room.

giving him a weak smile, you head straight to the front door without a word. you open the door before turning your head to face vinnie.

“i’ll be back for my stuff another day, just gimme time, please.” your voice cracks as you speak.

vinnie nods and tries his best to not run to you and hold you in his arms. he knows it’s over, it was over the minute this whole argument started.

“i’ll be here, take all the time you need.” with that, you give him a small smile before leaving his apartment.

as you walked to the elevator, you thought you truly were the greatest person right now. keeping your feelings in when he did that to you for so long. you’re just glad it’s over now.

hi hi !!! currently at work when i post this !! network is down and i have nothing else to do so i decided to finish this !!

i hope you all enjoyed <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @native2princess , @sturnioloshacker , @visualbutterflysworld , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @slvthrs , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @khxna , @laylasbunbunny , @hallecarey1 , @kriissy4gov , @supabhad , @kayleighh , @violet0182 , @defnotayonna , @jpg3 , @eddieslut69

[blakeswritingimagines]

Sleeping All Alone

Summary: Reader who always teases bodyguard, named Daemon, to keep you safe both in public and in private situations. However, as the two spend more time together, an undeniable attraction and chemistry starts to develop between you.

Warnings: Power imbalance, Teasing, PWP, Begging, Choking, Use of Darlin, brat, tease, minx, Dom Daemon, and Sub reader, no real gender used for the reader.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Word count: 6.0k

Daemon Targaryen sat in his usual spot at the back of your concert venue. He watched as the fans went wild for the pop star on stage. He was there for one reason and one reason only, and that was to protect you. As you sang and danced on stage, he scanned the crowd, searching for any potential threats. He had been hired by your management team to be your personal bodyguard, and he took his job very seriously. Despite his best efforts, Daemon couldn't ignore the fact that the fans were going crazy over every move you made. It was obvious they were smitten with you, and he couldn't blame them. You were good-looking and talented, and he found himself distracted by you on stage more times than he'd care to admit.

As you strutted across the stage, you could feel a pair of eyes on you. You knew who it belonged to, your bodyguard Daemon. While most people found his intense stare unnerving, you couldn't help but feel a little thrill every time his eyes bore into yours. You tried to focus on the performance, but his presence was distracting. He was like a magnet, tugging at your attention even when you were supposed to be focused on the music. You finished the final song of your set, panting and wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. You gave a final wave to the adoring crowd before returning backstage, only to find Daemon waiting for you with his arms crossed. “Another successful show,” he said as you approached. Daemon's voice was cool and measured, betraying no hint of the attraction he felt towards you. He had been your bodyguard for several months now, but he had managed to keep his feelings hidden from you. He knew that it was unprofessional to become involved with his client, but that didn't make the attraction any less strong. "But I have to say, you're slacking on your security. You're supposed to be paying attention to your surroundings, not getting distracted by me."

You rolled your eyes at his comment, but secretly a part of you was flattered. It was true, you had caught yourself sneaking glances at him during performances, but you weren't about to admit that. "Oh, don't flatter yourself," you replied with a smirk. "I was just making sure you were doing your job properly." Daemon chuckled softly at your words, his eyes never leaving yours. He knew that you were trying to maintain a veneer of indifference, but he could see through it. He could sense the spark between you both, no matter how much you tried to downplay it. "I'm always doing my job," he said in a low voice. "Just make sure you're not distracting me too much with those pretty eyes of yours." You felt a hoard of butterflies in your stomach at his comment, but you forced yourself to keep your cool. Two could play at that game. You stepped closer to him, using your height and platform shoes to your advantage. "Oh, trust me, my eyes aren't the only part of me that's distracting," you purred, fluttering your eyelashes innocently.

Daemon's breath hitched at your response, but he kept his expression cool. He wasn't about to let you know just how much you affected him. "Is that so?" he said, taking a step forward to close the distance between you. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it was driving him wild. "Careful now, little one. You might be playing with fire." You grinned, reveling in the effect you seemed to be having on him. It was rare for him to lose his cool exterior, and the fact that you were the one to make him falter was quite pleasing. "Oh, I can handle the heat," you said with a shrug. "But can you?" You stood on your tip toes and reached up, gently tugging on the lapel of his jacket to pull him closer. Daemon's eyes darkened as you pulled him closer, his resolve wavering slightly. He could feel the heat and electricity between you both like a tangible force. "You have no idea what kind of heat I can handle," he said in a low voice. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. He could feel your heart racing in your chest, and it only made his own beat faster.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he drew you closer, your body pressed against his. Being this close to him was intoxicating, it was like he was a drug and you were already addicted. "Oh yeah?" you murmured, your voice husky with desire. "Prove it." The concert ended and you managed to get through the mandatory pleasantries and goodbyes without incident. Finally, it was time to leave the venue. You bid goodbye to your friends and colleagues and stepped out into the cool night air. Daemon was by your side immediately, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he ushered you toward the car. As you made your way through the crowded parking lot, Daemon kept a watchful eye on your surroundings, his hand resting lightly on your lower back. He could feel the press of your body against his, and it sent a jolt of electricity through him. He knew he should keep his distance, but he couldn't help the way his body responded to you. Once you reached the car, he opened the door for you and waited until you were safely inside before shutting it and walking around to the driver's seat. You watched him through the window as he walked around the car, the muscles in his shoulders rippling beneath his shirt. You couldn't help but admire his powerful physique, and the way he moved with such calculated grace. When he finally settled in the driver's seat beside you, you turned to him, your expression coy. "Where to next, sir?" you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Daemon stifled a smirk as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. He could feel your eyes on him and it was driving him wild. "Are you always this cheeky, or is it just for me?" he asked, his tone neutral. He glanced over at you, his eyes raking over your body. He had never wanted anyone quite like he wanted you at this moment. Daemon gritted his teeth at your tone, but he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. "Home," he said curtly. "It's late, and you have an early morning tomorrow." You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played at the corners of your lips. "Oh, come on, you love it," you teased. As the car pulled away from the venue, you leaned back in your seat and let out a sigh. "You know," you said, breaking the silence in the car, "I don't know how you manage to stay so stoic all the time. It's a bit disappointing, really. I was kind of hoping I could break through your icy exterior by now." Daemon let out a soft laugh at your words, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You think I'm icy, huh?" he said, stealing a glance at you. "I guess it's just part of the job, little one. Can't have me getting distracted while I'm supposed to be keeping you safe."

You pouted at his response, leaning your head against the window. "Boring," you drawled. "You can't just blame it on the job. I think you like to act tough because you think it makes you look cool and mysterious." Daemon chuckled again, shaking his head slightly. "Maybe it's a bit of that," he admitted. "But you have no idea how hard I have to work to keep my cool around you." He flicked his eyes to you, taking in your pouty expression. "You drive me absolutely wild, you know that? But I have to keep my head straight when I'm working." Your expression softened at his admission, and a small smile tugged at your lips. "Well, I'm glad to know I have that effect on you," you replied, your voice tinged with mischief. "But I have to say, keeping your head straight seems like a pretty tall order. I can guarantee you I'm not making it easy."

Daemon's grip on the wheel tightened as he heard the sultry tone in your voice, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to do to you. "You have no idea," he said gruffly. "Every time you look at me with those big pretty eyes of yours or touch me with those delicate little hands of yours, it takes everything I have to stay professional." You couldn't help but feel a thrill at his words, the fact that you had such an effect on him only made you want to push his buttons more. "Maybe I like seeing you struggle," you said, leaning closer to him and placing a hand on his thigh. "Maybe I like knowing I can break through that tough exterior and leave you a mess." Daemon's breath hitched as your hand landed on his thigh, his muscles tensing under your touch. "You're playing a dangerous game, little one," he warned, but there was no denying the hunger behind his words. He glanced over at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You keep testing me like this and I won't be able to hold back for much longer."

You grinned, enjoying the way you were making him squirm. "Who says I want you to hold back?" you purred, leaning even closer to him, your lips almost brushing his ear. "Maybe I like the idea of you losing control with me." Daemon clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to pull you into his lap and ravish you right there in the car. Your proximity and your words were driving him wild, and the sound of your sultry voice in his ear was quickly eroding his self-control. "You are the most infuriating woman," he said through gritted teeth. Your grin widened as you heard the strain in his voice, knowing you were causing him to lose his grip. "But you love it," you said, moving your hand further up his thigh. "You love the way I get under your skin and make you feel things you try so hard to keep locked away." Daemon let out a low growl as your hand inched higher up his thigh, his knuckles white from gripping the wheel too tightly. "You're playing with fire, darlin'. I've been good so far, but you keep pushing my buttons like this and you're gonna see a side of me you can't handle." He shot you a warning look, but the lust and desire in his eyes betrayed him.

You chuckled, not intimidated in the least. "Oh, I can handle you," you teased, squeezing his thigh for emphasis. "And as for that side of you, you keep trying to keep hidden, I think it's about time you let it out to play." You moved your mouth to his ear, your lips brushing against his skin as you whispered, "I can take whatever you throw at me, big guy." Daemon let out a guttural moan as your lips grazed his skin, his control slipping further away. The sound of your voice in his ear was like a siren song, making him crave you more than he ever thought possible. "Damn you," he muttered, his voice rough with barely contained desire. "You think you can handle me, huh? I'll show you just how wrong you are, you little brat." You felt a thrill at his words, the way he was struggling to keep his composure only made you want to push him further. "Bring it on, big guy," you teased. "I'm not afraid of you." You continued to tease him with your hands and your voice, wanting to see just how far you could push him before he snapped. The car finally pulled up outside your home, and Daemon cut the engine with a flick of his wrist. The air was thick with tension between the two of you, the electricity crackling with every look and touch. As the two of you sat just outside your home, Daemon sat for a moment, trying to regain his composure.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts and desires you had stirred up in him. After a moment, he turned to you, his expression a mixture of lust and frustration. "You're a damn tease, you know that?" he growled. You smirked at his words, loving the effect you were having on him. "And you're a stubborn control freak," you retorted, still not backing down. "It's about time you realized you can't always be in charge." You leaned closer to him, your lips only inches from his. "But we both know you like it when I challenge you, don't we?" Daemon gritted his teeth, your proximity and your words making his restraint wear thin. He wanted nothing more than to give in to the desire that was building inside him, but he was a man of control, used to being in command. "You're driving me wild, you know that?" he muttered. "You're like a storm, beautiful and dangerous, and I can't resist your pull." He reached out and grabbed your chin, pulling you closer. "But make no mistake, darlin', I'm still the one in charge here."

You let out a soft gasp as he grabbed your chin, the rough handling sending shivers down your spine. "Oh, is that so?" you purred, your lips only millimeters from his. "Why don't you prove it, then?" Even though you were the one in control of the situation so far, your pulse was racing and your breath was coming in shallow gasps. Daemon's eyes darkened with a mix of lust and determination as you challenged him, your proximity and your sultry tone igniting a fire within him. "Don't tempt me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Once I start, I won't be able to stop." He held your chin in his hand, his gaze burning into yours. "Are you sure you're ready for this, darlin'? Because I won't be gentle." Your heart hammered in your chest as you met his intense gaze. You were playing a dangerous game, teasing and challenging a man who was known for his self-control, but you couldn't help it. The way he looked at you with such hunger and intensity sent a thrill through you, making you more reckless than ever before. "I'm sure," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can take anything you dish out, big guy. Bring it on…. how about you come inside?"

Daemon's self-control finally snapped at your words, his restraint lost in a wave of desire and need. "You asked for it," he growled, his voice thick with hunger. Without waiting for a response, he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed open the car door. He strode around to your side of the car and yanked open the passenger door, pulling you out of your seat with a firm grip on your wrist. "Inside," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "Now." You gasped as he yanked you out of the car, the force of his grip making your heart race even faster. You followed him obediently, almost feeling like a pet being led on a leash. As soon as you stepped inside your home, he slammed the door shut and pushed you up against it, pinning you there with his body. His eyes glittered with a dark intensity that made your stomach flutter. "Now you're mine," he said, his voice hot against your ear. There was no going back now, you had pushed him past his breaking point and now you were about to see just what he was capable of. Daemon's body was taut with tension and desire as he pressed you against the wall, the weight of his body pinning you in place. His hands came up to cup your face, his touch rough and demanding as he held you in place. "You've been pushing my buttons all night," he muttered, his voice a low rumble. "Now you get to see what happens when you drive a man wild." Without warning, he slanted his mouth over yours, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss.

You couldn't help but moan into his kiss, your body reacting to his touch with a mind of its own. He was overwhelming your senses, his grip on your face and his body pressed against you left you feeling helpless and yet utterly desperate for more. You returned his kiss with an intensity that matched his own, your hands gripping his shirt and pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his desire like a flame that threatened to consume you whole. Daemon groaned, his kiss becoming more urgent and desperate as he tasted you. He released your face, his hands wandering down to your waist as he pressed you harder against the wall. His hips rocked against you, grinding his growing arousal against you as he deepened the kiss. "Damn you," he muttered, his lips moving against yours. "You drive me insane." Your breath hitched as his hips pressed against you, the feel of his hardness making your body respond with a wave of heat. You gasped against his mouth, your mind lost in a fog of desire. "Daemon," you panted, your voice pleading and desperate. "Don't stop, please. I need you, more than air."

Daemon growled low in his throat at your pleading words, the sound sending shivers through you. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. "You beg so pretty, darlin'," he murmured, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them tightly. "And I'm going to give you exactly what you need, but it won't be gentle." You arched your neck back, offering up more of your skin for him to claim. His words sent a thrill through you, making you shiver with anticipation. "I don't need gentle," you gasped, your hands moving to tangle in his hair. "I just need you, all of you. Take me, any way you want." Daemon let out a low hiss at your words, his control slipping further with each passing moment. He nipped at your neck before pulling away slightly and looking down at you with darkened eyes. "You won't be able to walk straight tomorrow," he promised, his voice rough with desire. "I'm gonna make sure you feel me for days." Without warning, he picked you up easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you towards your bedroom.

You let out a gasp as he picked you up, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance. You could feel the heat and strength of his body as he carried you, and the knowledge that he was in complete control both terrified and excited you. "I don't care if I can't walk," you gasped, your mouth hovering just above his ear as if not even thinking of the full day ahead of you. "I just want you. Now." Daemon grunted in response, the huskiness in your voice only fueling his own desire. He kicked open the door to your bedroom and strode towards the bed, dropping you down onto it with a soft thump. He followed you down, his body covering yours as he looked down at you with a mixture of hunger and possessiveness in his eyes. "You're mine," he growled, his hands roaming your body as he started to remove your clothes with rough, needy motions. "And I'm going to make you scream my name." You let out a gasp as he tore away your clothes, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You could feel the need and desire radiating off of him, and it only served to heighten your own feelings. "Yes," you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "I'm yours. I'm all yours. Do whatever you want with me, just please, don't stop."

Daemon's breath hitched at your words, his eyes darkening further as he looked down at you. The sight of your exposed body beneath him only served to stoke the fire of his desire, and he quickly shed his own clothes. "I won't hold back," he muttered, his hands roaming over your skin, claiming every inch of you. "You asked for this." Without warning, he claimed your mouth in a deep, possessive kiss, his hands continuing to explore your body with urgency and hunger. You moaned into his kiss, your body responding to his touch on instinct. His hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere at once, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of sensation. You arched your body up to meet his, desperate for more, more contact, more sensation. Your hands roamed over his back and shoulders, feeling the strength and power coiled just underneath his skin. "Don't hold back," you panted, your voice hoarse with need. "I can take it, I want it, I need it." Daemon groaned, his body shuddering with need as you writhed beneath him. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing a path down your neck and collarbone, leaving behind a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. "You're so damn responsive," he muttered, his hands roaming over your body, tracing every curve and contour. "It's like you were made for me." He nicked at your skin, his teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh. "I want to taste every inch of you."

You gasped and arched up to meet him as he kissed and bit his way down your body, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. The feel of his mouth and hands on your skin was driving you wild, and you could feel your body responding with a primal need. "Please," you panted, your voice thick with desire. "Don't tease me, I can't take it. I need you, now." Daemon growled, his restraint crumbling as your words and body reacted to his touch. He knew he was driving you wild, and it only made him want you more. He pulled away slightly, his eyes meeting yours, darkened with a feral hunger. "You don't get to tell me what to do, darlin'," he said roughly, his voice thick with desire. "And I'll tease you as much as I want." Without warning, he pressed his body against yours, his weight pinning you to the bed as he claimed your mouth in a hot, possessive kiss. You tried to suppress a moan as he pressed himself against you, the feel of his body and his lips on yours sending a wave of heat through you. He was in complete control, and you both knew it, but you couldn't help but push back against him, a little bit of defiance still left in you. "Don't be a tease," you managed to gasp between kisses. "I need you, now, please."

Daemon's body tautened as you spoke, his own need becoming almost unbearable. He broke the kiss, his lips hovering millimeters from yours as he looked down at you. "You want me, huh?" he muttered, his voice rough with desire. "You want me to give you exactly what you need, right now?" He leaned back slightly, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you, vulnerable and desperate beneath him. "Beg for it." You swallowed hard as he pulled back, his eyes raking over you, taking in every inch of your exposed flesh. You were already a mess, your body craving his touch with a need that bordered on desperation. The fact that he was still in complete control, holding himself back just enough to drive you wild, was maddening. "Please," you panted, your voice strained with need. "Please, Daemon, I need you. I'll do anything, just please, give me what I want."

Daemon's eyes darkened further as you begged him, the sound of your need and pleading driving him wild. He leaned back in, his body once again pressing heavily against yours. "You're so damn beautiful when you beg," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "And I can't resist when you look at me like that." He cupped your face in his hand, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. "But I think first I wanna hear you say it." You let out a soft gasp as he cupped your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat and desire radiating off of him, and it only served to fuel your own need. "Say what?" you asked, your voice breathless and needy. "What do you want me to say? I'll say anything, just please, don't make me wait any longer." Daemon's eyes darkened even further, his gaze locking onto yours. "Say you're mine," he muttered, his voice rough and possessive. "Say you belong to me. That I can do whatever I want with you, whenever I want. And that you'll take whatever I give you, and you'll crave more. Say it."

You felt like your entire body was on fire, your need for him almost painful. You let out a shuddering breath, your eyes locked with his. "I'm yours," you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "I belong to you, completely. You can do whatever you want with me, whenever you want. I'll take whatever you give me, and I'll always crave more. I'm yours, Daemon, only yours." Daemon let out a low, guttural moan, your words sending a rush of heat through him. He claimed your mouth in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking, claiming, consuming. His hands roamed over your body, touching, claiming, possessing. "You're mine, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice rough with desire, as he broke the kiss and nuzzled your neck. "All damn mine." You melted beneath his touch, your body responding to his every move with a mix of need and surrender. "Yeah," you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "All yours, only yours. Just please, I need you, now." Every touch, every kiss, only served to fuel the fire that was burning inside of you, a fire that only he could extinguish.

His eyes darkened with desire as he watched you unravel beneath him, your pleas igniting something primal within him. He didn't need to be told twice. With a growl, he lifted you effortlessly, positioning you so that you were straddling his hips. The tip of his throbbing member teased at your entrance before he thrust into you with a force that left both of you gasping for air. A loud cry escaped your lips as Daemon's thick length filled you in one powerful stroke, stretching you deliciously around his girth. Your nails dug into his chest as you adjusted to his size, the pleasure-pain sending sparks through your nerves. "Oh god…" you panted, your head falling back as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper, harder. The wet sounds of your coupling echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged breathing and moans of ecstasy. "More…please, give me more!" You begged shamelessly, lost to the overwhelming sensations consuming you whole. Daemon gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you steady as he pounded into you with ruthless abandon. Each deep, punishing thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins, pushing you closer to the edge. "Take it all, little brat," he snarled, his voice raw with lust. "Every inch of my cock is meant for this sweetness."

He reached up to wrap a hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and arch into him. The dual sensations of his fingers on your pulse point and his thick shaft splitting you open had you teetering on the brink of climax. The roughness of his grip sent another wave of heat coursing through you, making your entire body tremble with anticipation. You threw your head back, exposing the tender column of your neck, a silent invitation for him to explore further. "Yes, yes, just like that," you whimpered, feeling the coil within tightening dangerously. His thumb pressed against your throat, cutting off your breath momentarily before releasing it in a rush, intensifying the sensation of being completely owned by him. "I'm close…so fucking close," you confessed, your inner walls clenching around him instinctively. He felt your body start to tighten around him, signaling your impending release, and it spurred him on even more. His thrusts became erratic, driven by pure, unadulterated lust. "Come for me, love," he commanded, his voice dripping with carnal intent. "Show me how much you want it."

Your body convulsed as the first wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you gasping and trembling beneath Daemon. Your inner walls clenched around his throbbing length, milking him for everything he was worth. "Oh fuck…Daemon!" you cried out, your body writhing uncontrollably under his touch. The pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming that it brought tears to your eyes, blurring your vision as you rode out the orgasmic waves crashing over you. Daemon groaned deeply as he felt you come undone around him, your tight sheath rippling along his shaft. It was almost too much to bear. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you and let go, spilling his hot seed deep within your quivering depths. "Fuck, yes," he hissed through gritted teeth, his body shuddering with the force of his own climax. As the last tremors subsided, he collapsed back onto the bed, pulling you down to lie atop him, still joined intimately. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as they both struggled to catch their breath. As the aftershocks of your orgasm slowly faded away, you lay there, panting heavily against Daemon's chest. The warmth of his cum filling you made you feel complete, and cherished. You turned your face towards him, pressing a soft, satisfied kiss to his lips. "That was incredible," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're amazing." The feeling of being held tightly by him after such an intense experience was soothing and comforting, and you found yourself not wanting to pull away anytime soon.

He smiled against your lips, a rare moment of tenderness breaking through the usual facade of dominance. "And you, little minx," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face, "are utterly bewitching." There was a contentment in his voice that hadn't been there before, a satisfaction that came from having fulfilled a deep-seated craving. Slowly, he rolled you onto your side, keeping you nestled against him, his arm draped possessively across your waist. "We'll do this again," he promised, already plotting future encounters in his mind. You woke up the next morning feeling sore and tired, but blissfully satisfied. The memories of last night came back to you in a flood, and you smiled as you realized that you were still in bed with Daemon. You turned over to look at him, only to find that he was already awake, watching you with a lazy smile on his face.

Daemon's eyes took in the sight of your satisfied smile and messy bed hair, he felt a mixture of pride and contentment. He reached out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and tender. "Morning, darlin'," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. "How you feelin' this morning?" You leaned into his touch, a contented sigh escaping your lips. "I'm feeling sore," you admitted with a small laugh, "but absolutely wonderful. Last night was… incredible." Your eyes met his, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of his satisfied expression. "How about you? Did I wear you out?" He chuckled, a roguish smile playing on his lips. "You damn near killed me," he said, his words punctuated by a lazy stretch. "But I ain't complainin'. I could get used to seeing you like this every morning." He leaned in closer, his voice growing huskier. "All disheveled and satisfied, and all mine." You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, your body responding to his possessive tone. You reached out to touch his chest, feeling the heat and strength of his body beneath your fingers. "Careful," you teased, a smile playing on your lips. "I might just have to test that theory."

His eyes darkened at your touch, his body responding instantly to the feel of your fingers. "Is that so?" he said, his voice dropping even lower. "You think you're up for round three already?" He shifted closer to you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. "Or do you need a break first, darlin'?" Your morning reverie is interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by your assistant's voice from the other side. "Knock knock," she calls out cheerfully. "I've got a list of things that need your attention-" The door swings open, and she stops mid-sentence as she takes in the sight of you and Daemon, tangled up in the bedsheets. "Oh?" Daemon stiffened as the assistant barged in with no warning, quickly trying to keep the sheets covering his and your mostly exposed bodies. He couldn't help but scowl at her intrusion, his arms instinctively tightening around you as if to shield you from her gaze. "Ever heard of knockin' and waitin' for a damn response?" he snapped gruffly. Your assistant blushed profusely, her eyes widening as she realized the situation fully sunk in. "I'm sorry," she stammered out, her voice high-pitched and embarrassed. "I didn't realize- I'll just-" She quickly turned and tried to exit the room, but in her rush, she tripped over the rug near the door and crashed to the floor with a loud thump.

Daemon rolled his eyes at the sight of your clumsy assistant, but his grip on you didn't loosen. If anything, he held you even tighter, pulling you closer to him and the safety of the bed. "For the love of God…" he muttered, his voice an annoyed grumble. "She's a walking disaster, ain't she?" You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of your assistant sprawled out on the floor, clearly embarrassed and flustered. "Yeah, she's a bit clumsy," you admitted, your voice full of fondness. "But she's loyal and hardworking, so I keep her around." You looked up at Daemon, a sly smile on your face. "And she knows when to make herself scarce, thankfully." Daemon chuckled, his mood somewhat brightened by your fond words for your assistant. He leaned back against the headboard, pulling you with him so that you were half-reclined on his chest. "Yeah, I think the poor thing got the message," he said, his tone dry. "But I can't deny she's got great timing. Or lack thereof, in this case."

You snuggled up against him, enjoying the feeling of his warm, solid chest beneath you. "I guess we should count ourselves lucky," you joked. "Otherwise, we'd probably never get anything done." You glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and sighed. "Speaking of which, I do actually have things to do today…" Daemon groaned lowly in response, his arms tightening around you possessively. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to commit your scent to memory, before pulling back slightly. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered, his tone resigned. "You've got a business to run. But can't a man just hold his brat a little longer?" You chuckled at his words, touched by his possessiveness. "Of course you can," you reassured him. "And I would love that. But I really do have to get up. We can always pick this up later, though…" You reluctantly started to extricate yourself from his embrace, planting a quick kiss on his lips before standing up. He lets out a huff, watching as you reluctantly untangle yourself from his arms and rise from the bed, already missing the warmth of your body against his. He props himself up on his elbows, the sheets pooling around his waist and revealing his bare chest. "Promises, promises," he mutters, a roguish smile playing on his lips. "I'll hold you to that, you know. And I aim to collect, darlin'."

[vex91]

Ahn Yujin - Jealousy, jealousy

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader (Highschool AU)

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Summary: You hated how perfect Ahn Yujin was or maybe you just hated her but only if you knew the hatred wasn't reciprocated then maybe you would realize stuff sooner.

A/N: Of course Yujin needs to be the first fic on this blog 🙂‍↕️

Part 2

3rd's POV

Ahn Yujin.

She was the definition of perfection. Perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, perfect friends and perfect family - it was so hard to find any bad thing about her.

You on the other hand weren't that. Your grades were average at best, you weren't as pretty as her, your personality was often talked about as annoying, you only had 2 friends for your whole life and your relationship with your parents was shitty.

You were jealous of her whole life and it only fueled your hatred.

"Y/N come here" You looked up at the sound of your best friend's voice. Smiling you walked over to her "Rei, you're unusually cheerful today. Something finally happened between you and Jiwon?" Rei slapped your shoulder at your remark and shushed you quickly since Jiwon was close by with her friends. Well Jiwon knew about Rei's crush on her so you didn't know what Rei wanted to hide exactly but it's her business.

"Are you coming to that party at Gaeul's house?" Your best friend asked causing you to raise an eyebrow until you realized what she was talking about.

"I don't know, all annoying people from our school are gonna be there" Rei rolled her eyes at your comment before shaking your arm "Come on, it's gonna be fun. Me and Jiwon are going" The thought of going to a where you would see Yujin's face and also third-wheeling your best friends wasn't the most tempting one but you could never say no when Rei made that face.

"Fine but you're the one explaining everything to my parents when they find out"

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

Here she was - Ahn Yujin in all her glory having fun with her friends. Honestly you should've guessed that she was gonna be there since it was her best friend's party but you really tried not to think about her and destroy your mood. As long as she would stay away from you then the party won't be so bad, you just need to focus on your friends.

It's easier said than done because it seemed like wherever you went, she was right there too.

You tried to keep your cool but it was harder and harder until you couldn't hold it in anymore and you exploded on her when she finally approached you.

Her reaction wasn't what you expected, she was standing still and completely not affected by your harsh words. It even amused her as she kept looking at you with a small smirk.

"What?"

Yujin shrugged "Nothing much, you just look cute when you're trying to yell at me from down there" You became red at her words, so now she was making fun of your height? This girl was unbelievable.

"Why are you always so-"

"So in love with you?"

You quickly closed your mouth, your ears became red at her words. Out if everything you weren't expecting that but honestly it was Yujin, she couldn't have been serious.

"Stop joking around"

"I'm not. Remember when you got so angry at the fact I won that science contest and destroyed my project after? I kept the pieces because they remind me how cute you looked that day when you were so determined to win. Or when you pushed me into water during our school trip to the beach, your laugh when you were with your friends later stayed in my head. I love everything about you" During her whole speech you were silent, the whole time you thought that she hated you, just like you hated her but now you're finding out it wasn't like that?

"Do you really hate her though"

Rei's words kept coming back to you as you stared at Yujin but the moment was interrupted by your phone suddenly calling. You looked down and cursed when you saw your mom's name displayed on it.

"I need to go" You quickly said and tried to push past her but she quickly held your hand to stop you. Without another word she walked you out of the house and onto the cold streets. Before the cold could hit you though she put on her jacket on you.

"I'll walk you home" Yujin loudly announced and before you could protest she added "I don't take no as an answer. You can hate me later, right now you look like you can't be alone... at least in my eyes" The staring competition between you two continued until you gave up and led the way while Yujin quietly followed after you with her hands in her pockets.

The whole way home was spend in silence, the only sound that could be heard were the cars passing by from time to time. Yujin felt weird seeing you like that, you rarely kept yourself from making some snarky comments to her that made her day every time. Weird but Yujin just liked any sort of communication she had with you, even if it was you being angry with her.

It was clear it was because of your family, Yujin could feel the cold aura coming off of the house from miles away, it was far from the place you would want to come back to. And seeing you clenching your fists before going to the door assured her of that and Yujin immediately stopped you. She didn't want you to in there.

You looked up at her confused and Yujin only looked away embarrassed. She thought of what to say before muttering "I can walk you to Rei's house, I'm sure she's back home and would be happy to let you stay the night" It looked like the idea was tempting to you but the fear of your parents made you hesitate. Yujin squeezed your hand and let you think about it more and soon you only nodded.

At Rei's house your parents kept blowing your phones with calls and messages but you didn't really care at that moment when you could only look at Yujin's disappearing figure with mixed feelings.

What was that night?

[birthfan]

A little RP for you. No pressure, feel free to write as much or as little as you’d like :) ~ @shhhsecretsideblog

It was a warm summer evening and the platform was empty, just another woman and I, both waiting for the last train to pass by the rural station. The violet sky was still bright enough to see clouds but the street lamps were needed to see down the length of the outdoor platform. I had sat down on a bench near the entrance to wait for the train, the other woman already sitting on a bench further down the platform.

As I looked down the tracks into the distance, waiting to see the bright lights of an approaching train, I noticed the other woman was heavily pregnant. Her large belly protruded well over her thighs, legs slightly parted from its size, and her hands were placed delicately over the swell. I could see her huff and tilt her head back and I felt a pang of sympathy - I couldn’t imagine being so heavily pregnant during the height of summer.

Looking at my watch for the umpteenth time and back out along the dark train tracks, I was slowly coming to a realisation the train may not be coming. It was scheduled 10 minutes ago and I’d been here at least half an hour, so I knew I had not missed it. It was the last train and I had no idea how I was going to get back home if it didn’t show.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the distant sound of a whimper and it took me a moment to realise it had come from the pregnant lady. Illuminated by the street lights I could see her curled over her baby bump, one hand gripped the bench and the other cupped her belly. I couldn’t see her expression but her body language looked like she was in pain.

It was late and dark, feeling a sense of female solidarity I decided to go over and check if she was okay. As I approached I could hear more sounds coming from the poor girl, moaning and muttering under her breath. “… not now…. wait a little longer…please…”

Her hair fell over her face but I could see it was slightly damp with sweat, and she was shifting awkwardly on the metal bench and breathing quite heavily.

“Hi, erm… are you okay?” I asked nervously, looking at the way her belly seemed to shift under the fabric of her clothes and hoping she wasn’t about to have this kid right here on the platform.

I'm startled by your intervention, having almost forgotten about your presence. I try my best to seem normal "Y-yeah just you know, baby being overly active, some advice: don't get pregnant in the summer" I giggle nervously, unfortunately even if my acting was good enough to fool you my body clearly displayed my lie as I feel something give inside of me, then a strong splashing sound fills the empty station.

We both look down at the puddle of birthing fluids in-between my legs and before I can even think of something to say a contraction makes me double over in pain "hnnnnng fuuuuuck shit why now?!" I groan out, my baby's head already halfway through my cervix as I'd unknowingly given in to the urge now that the water sack no longer softened the feeling.

You look at me panicked, a complete stranger about to see me at my most vulnerable, "oh shit are you.... ehm pushing?" you ask, with your own expression judging your confused question as soon as it comes out of your lips.

My hands right above my knees for support as I kneel over and push "Hnnnnnnnnng hoo hooo oooh god!" I exclaim through my panting and groaning as my baby slips further down my birth canal. I begin to feel the weight of my child's head behind my lips, I can also feel gravity making them painfully bulge out without my interference.

You look panicked and entranced at the swell forming in my soaked almost see through underwear, you take a deep breath and gather your courage as you grab my hand "alright focus on me, breathe and rest, I can't imagine what you're feeling right now but I'm not just gonna stand by while a person suffers so" your confident words catch my attention and help me gather my thoughts despite the pain and fatigue.

"A-alright heeee hoooo heeee" I start breathing rhythmically like I've seen many women do "mnnnngggggaaaaaah haaa" I struggle as I push with the contraction, my lips starting to open up under my fluid soaked panties.

You hold my hands as you stand in front of me, an act of warmth, of a stranger that despite no prior relation still wants to help, I give you a pained smile to show my appreciation as words fail me in such a moment.

Unfortunately our intimate moment is interrupted by a contraction unlike any I've felt until now causing my legs to almost buckle under me as I give a big long push "hnnnnnnnnnnngggggggaaaaaAAAAAAH" a groan turning into a scream as the head quickly crowns causing my vulva to stretch beyond what I even thought was possible, the baby's dark hair being clearly visible through my panties.

I breathe shakily as I'm now below where my hands are, still joined with yours, I realise I've unknowingly forced myself into a squatting position, I look up to see a sympathetic soft smile and kind eyes, which despite everything causes me to smile lightly.

I feel another contraction building up inside of me, and so I close my eyes and focus, and then it hits "mmmmmmmm-" I moan with closed lips as I give it my all, and then finally "-mmmmmaaaah haaa oh my god" the first coherent expression in a while comes out of my upper lips just as my baby's head exits my lower lips with a spray of fluids.

It is at this point that I remember that I never removed my ruined underwear as I feel the head pressing against them, "h-hey I need your mmm he-help with something?" I'm able to stammer out as you nod and lower yourself to match my eye level "what do you need me to do?"

"I n-ne-need you to go behind me and-d hooooooo-" a contraction catches me by surprise as I focus on talking and interrups me, the need to push, hopefully one last time, is unbearable. As soon as my pained moan interrupts my train of thought you rush behind me and cup your hands below me "-oooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOH" I scream near the end of my moan as my baby painfully slides out of me into my panties causing them to reach their breaking point as they collapse causing my child to fall into your hands.

I collapse on the station floor, not caring about the state of it as I pant from exhaustion "haa haaa th-thank you" I'm able to breathe out, "ehm you're welcome" you say slightly embarrassed now that the confidence has worn off. "It's a girl by the way ehm congrats" you say handing her to me as I sit "what are you gonna call her?".

I think about it for a second and then ask "what is your name?"

Thanks so much for the ask!!! It was fun to write, sorry I'm still rusty but I hope you enjoyed it anyways, it came out longer then expected lol, don't get used to it just yet hehe

[moonshynecybin]

bezz saying they learn from marc. bezz saying marc is maestro. bezz admitting he made the mistake and crashed because he knew marc was coming behind him.

biting him like a chew toy and throwing him around i need to study his brain

yeah i was listening to the oxley bom podcast for le mans in the grocery store yesterday (#glamour) and they were talking about the kind of relationship marc has with the other, younger riders (but like SPECIFICALLY the academy boys) were theres this weird like. resentment and humiliation (and FEAR.) with marc when he beats them that all tied into this desperateeeeee need for him to RESPECT them at the same time. oh to be rated as an enemy by marc marquez. and like obviously all of that is tied into the valentino of it all, but at the same time its like. these guys all came into the sport with a bunch preconceived notions about what its like to race marc and how challenging it is and those are all kind of CONFIRMED out there on track buttttt when they start racing its during honda's flop era!! and marc is injured!! so maybe they DIDNT have a great idea of what its like to race marc marquez at the height of his powers yaknow !! thats a whole different girl on track AND off track right now!!! so now hes back and hes mostly healthy and hes on a good bike and theyre all actually and for real getting a chance to measure up against him and ask themselves. are your accomplishments worth anything or was marc's situation just FUCKED. and thats a BIGGGG question ! HUGE !

like in many ways marc is kind of the current benchmark for generational talent style success in motogp! even if they hate him, that means something.... so they DO want marc to talk to them in the cooldown room (bez) and they WILL make lunges they wouldnt normally on track (pecco) when its marc because hes the guy they actually and for real have to beat if they want to consider themselves great. AND marc's such a boogeyman at the same time that sometimes theres this hilarious undercurrent of panicked desperation when he enters the convo on track that is so funnay. like my fave part of oxley/bom this week was specifically the dissection of the SHOWMANSHIP and the INTIMIDATION marc brings.... like UH-OH marc's on your ass gotta MOVE. and bezz and pecco folded !

so yeah i think they DO consider him a maestro! they WANT to see his data! and they ARE impressed with what he does on track because how couldnt you be? especially when you PERSONALLY know how hard that shit is?? and what does that knowledge that marc may be able to do things YOU cant and pull them off do to your brain?? what does the knowledge that he will NEVER quit trying to overtake you do to your brain?? what does the knowledge that he is the craziest, hottest person in a sport entirely consisting of insane in the membrane hot girls do to your brain??? like girl hes hunting you DOWN

[howlingmod]

hello hello! I've never requested stuff before so i hope I'm doing this right lol, I'm wondering if i can request something tender and fluffy for follower sword x reader?

i just wanna hold that man in my arms bro, and your writing is just so peak

summary - follower sword x reader hcs. ur both phighters, uninetionally a little aut4aut coded woops

misc - thank you so much ! im glad you enjoy my writing .. smiles .. apologies if this is a little lackluster or inaccurate, this beast is weird. also yay first request !

-To say dating Sword can be a little unconventional is an understatement. More than once have people shot you a look once you told them who your partner is. Regardless, you wouldn't have it any other way and neither would Sword.

-Usually, people are confused as to how you guys got together in the first place. He's not exactly a social butterfly and he definitely comes off as threatening to most people, but there's no dramatic story to be found here, unfortunately. You just met him during a phight like most other people.

The match had been close, both teams were neck and neck for the point by now. It was a mad dash to get on the point or die trying, leaving more than a few people to try and make a run for it before falling to the other team the moment they were within a few feet. Every route lead to the same choking point, funneling everybody into a sea of flying bullets and swinging blades. Eventually, you noticed the crowd begin to thin as several people traded or finally picked someone on the other side off. If there was ever an opening, this was it. Stealing away from the corner you'd hidden in, you ran for the point, just barely dodging stray attacks before your feet touched the objective. The timer resumed in your teams favor, much to the other teams frantic irritation. A few of your teammates had bullied onto the objective just after you, helping fend off the incoming vigor of the enemy team in a last bid for the win, but it still wasn't enough. One got picked off, then another, and then another after that, then it was just you again. They'd gotten picks of their own and one had traded, but it still left you outnumbered. Given the exhaustion curling up your spine to lay heavy in your head and the dread of an inevitable loss hanging off your hands, you weren't winning this. Someone on the other team pushed towards you. You were slow on the uptake, pulling your gear just a few seconds too late through the fog of weariness. Practically in slow motion, you watched them reel back to swing, made to block it yourself, and a pale blade stick itself in the ground just between you two. With hands already raised, quickly identifing the blade's source, you instead made to cover your eyes before the flashing light could blind you. Where the once constant growl of battle had become ringing in your ears, there was silence. Peeking out behind your arms, there was nobody. It wouldn't last long, you knew that, but you finally felt as though you had a moment to breathe. Just a few seconds left. You could make out careful footsteps behind you, leaving you to whip your head around to the source. Instead of Shuriken or Scythe popping out to break the peace, you saw Sword. You hadn't seen too much of him that match, seemingly being focused on different areas (bitterly, you thought of asking him why he hadn't been helping you with the objective, but a better part of you decided against it.), but you were thanking the Heights he was on your team now. "Thanks for the help, you're a life saver," You hummed, smiling at him. He didn't return the gesture, hell, you aren't even sure he looked at you, given the lack of pupils. Faintly, you picked up some little grunt he made, a show of acknowledgement. That was enough for you. You turned back forwards, vaguely noting how he stopped next to you. Maybe he was tired too? You're sure he was focusing on trying to beat the other team into the ground for the match, so you wouldn't be surprised. The timer reached its peak, signalling your team's win. Neither of you made a sound, even as you picked up on your other teammates celebrating off in the distance. The air stayed peaceful, weight lifting off of you as you stood side-by-side. Nothing more needed to be said.

-Afterwards, you did your best to return the favor, though he rarely needed it. You would provide support in the ways you could, pointing a healer in his direction when he was in rough shape and picking off extra opponents if he was outnumbered. Where you'd expected to just help him out once or twice and consider the IOU paid off, he would return the aid right back. Without thinking about it, you two started to hover around eachother.

-He wasn't sure why he did it, just that, at some point, he began to think of you more than he needed to. It was good to know where your teammates were and what their status was, but he certainly didn't need to be worrying this much over an individual. Nevertheless, he would still check in on you, sending long glances your direction whenever you were nearby as a quick assesment of your condition.

-Even before matches you two would find eachother, sitting quietly as you two prepared for the upcoming phight. Sometimes, you would ramble to him as he listened wordlessly, only humming every now and then to let you know he was still paying attention (a habit he'd picked when his silence had lead you to trail off in the past).

-The first time you'd ever mentioned hanging out with him outside of a phight, he'd declined, if only out of unfamiliarity. He wasn't used to getting such direct, personal invites to be apart of other people's lives like that. It stuck in his head for a few days, the question of why you'd thought to pick him speficially rattling around in the back of his head.

-Eventually, he would be the one to invite you out. It wasn't anything special and, in all honesty, it was probably just to walk around. Nothing all that entertaining, but he didn't care about the activity as much as he did having more time to hear you talk.

-Likewise, the confession (after a long time of him sorting out his feelings, he still didn't totally understand how he felt once you two got together but he knew you were greatly important to him), was pretty mundane. You're probably the one to do it since he's not super familiar with the concept, at least not beyond a surface level understanding of what it looks like for other people. To you two, it's an intimate moment: you trust him enough to open yourself up to rejection and he cares about you enough to make clear he's interested in you as well. To others, it's a very blunt, robotic moment on his part contrasting to your obvious sentiment. Oh well.

-Anyhow, as for how you to interact once you get together, it's more of the same. A lot of the time, you two are just existing with one another. It would come off as uncaring if it weren't for him seeking you out just to be in your company, even if you're not interacting in any way. He just likes having you there, you make him feel whole in a strange way, something about your presence makes him feel like some wrong has been righted.

-He's a little nosy about your hobbies. If you're reading a book he wants you to tell him about it, if you're making something he wants to know how you're doing it, so on, so forth. He doesn't know why, he just likes to know everything he can about you. If we allow the more sentimental wording to fall, you're like a specimen he needs to learn about and put under a microscope, lovingly.

-His love language, other than time, is gifting things to you, actually. Most times it's odd trinkets he comes across that remind him of you, but its the thought that counts. He takes the utmost care for them to not get ruined before he can gift them to you and you can just barely notice him stand a little straighter when you happily take them. If you have a spot for all the things he's given you, he admires it with pride every time, blame it on bird instincts.

-He often just calls you by your name, he just doesn't think any nickname compares to your actual name. That's the title of the person he loves, what else could compare?

-It takes him a while to warm up to physical affection, so give him some time with that. Once he's settled into a relationship with you, he's a lot more open to any touch you give. He most enjoys whenever you lean on him, he enjoys being someone you can count on for support and comfort. On his part, he's a sucker for you holding his face in your hands, something about it just feels so tender. The way your hands cradle his head just feels so soothing.

-The first time he says 'I love you,' is a whisper, but don't let that fool you into thinking their meaning is any smaller. It's a total declaration of his heart to you, how could he not mean it when you're the light of his life?

[saaraofthesand]

Oda Didn’t Understand Dazai: An Opinion By Me

@catboychuuuya wanted me to elaborate on that bit in my Soukoku post about Odasaku not really understanding Dazai. I aim to please, so here I am.

Let’s begin

Part A: Buraiha Trio

Oda wasn’t necessarily a bad friend. He just didn’t really know what to do with Dazai. I actually think Ango was both a better friend toward, and had a better understanding of, Dazai (Oda pushed Dazai toward the light, but Ango was the reason he got to stay there).

Oda decided that Dazai should live in the light, but I think Ango always thought he belonged there. Like he knew that Dazai had the potential to be good.

In the prologue of the Dark Era light novel, Ango is the one truly bothered by Dazai’s apathy and suicidal tendencies. Oda has very mild reactions to all of it. Dazai is basically crying out for help, and Oda’s reactions are very indulgent (kind of “that’s nice, sweetie”).

"'Oh yeah, I created a new hot-pot recipe. Would you guys be up to trying it next time we hang out? I call it the 'superhuman stamina pot.' You can run for hours without getting tired after eating it. It’s a dream of a—'

'Not in a million years,' Ango sternly declined.

'If it keeps you from getting tired, then it might be pretty useful before a hard day's work,' I added.

'…Odasaku, that's exactly the problem right there. You're enabling Dazai. You don't speak up, and that's why he goes off the rails.'

I see. So this was what Ango meant by 'enabling' him. You learn something new every day."

Now, again, Oda was not a bad person or friend. It’s normal to joke around with your friends. But also, I think it’s pretty clear (Particularly in Storm Bringer and the Dark Era) that Dazai was genuinely struggling in the mafia. He was extremely unhappy.

Another problem with Oda is that he put Dazai on a pedestal like almost everyone else in the mafia (exceptions are Chuuya and Ango for sure).

"No matter what he did, Dazai seemed to reach heights that normal people couldn’t."

The difference between Odasaku and the rest of the mafia is that Dazai greatly admired Odasaku. He admired his belief system and resolve. That’s why I think it’s so sad that Oda didn’t really understand Dazai, because Dazai took Oda’s word as gospel.

There’s one last quote from the prologue that I want to talk about:

"We had a saying in the Port Mafia: 'The greatest misfortune for Dazai’s enemies is that they are Dazai’s enemies.' If he wanted to, he could even have a picnic in the middle of a firefight. Dazai was practically born to be in the Mafia."

This is the first case where I think it’s clear that Oda has a fundamental misunderstanding of Dazai.

Dazai was not born to be in the mafia. He was groomed to be in mafia by Mori. Mori picked him because he was an extremely intelligent, yet directionless child. I think we all spend so much time thinking of Dazai as a puppet master that we forget that he is also capable of being manipulated himself.

Dazai is eighteen during the Dark Era. Eighteen. He’s a teenager. He’s not a mastermind. He’s a lost kid in desperate need of guidance. He spent four incredibly formative years of his life suffering under Mori’s thumb (One before officially joining the mafia, three after). Odasaku was Dazai’s hope, someone he could look to instead of Mori. He wanted to be like him so badly.

Part B: Something to Live For

“Odasaku…,” Dazai said softly. “Forgive me for the absurd wording, but—don’t go. Find something to rely on. Expect good things to happen from here on out. There’s gotta be something…”

Yeah, you read that right. Dazai just presented an optimistic outlook on life.

He’s speaking to someone who has just lost his main purpose in being in the mafia, taking care of those orphans. Yet, he’s begging him to find a new reason to live anyway.

Part C: Last Words

That brings me to Odasaku’s final moments.

“‘You won’t find it,’ Odasaku said in almost a whisper. Dazai stared at him. ‘You should know that. Whether you’re on the side that takes lives or the side that saves them, nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity.’”

Okay, so, Odasaku is right that Dazai won’t find purpose in the darkness, but he’s wrong about why. Dazai is not an empty person incapable of happiness. Even though Dazai thinks this means that Odasaku understood him well, we can’t forget that Dazai doesn’t really understand himself. His feelings. His mind. Dazai genuinely believes that nothing can make him happy, but he’s wrong and the consequences to Oda’s words are huge.

Now, Dazai thinks he’s a villain pretending to be hero. He thinks he’s inherently empty. WHICH IS WRONG.

Think about why Dazai went to Oda’s side in the first place. Because Oda was his friend. Dazai put his personal feelings first in that situation, and he does that more often than people tend to notice. He’s actually motivated by emotions a lot.

During Storm Bringer, Dazai basically moves Heaven and Earth to stop Verlaine and keep Chuuya in the mafia.

“‘I joined the Mafia because of an expectation I had. I thought if I was close to death and violence—close to people giving in to their urges and desires, then I would be able to see the inner nature of humankind up close. I thought if I did that…’ Dazai paused before continuing, ‘…I would be able to find something—a reason to live.’”

We have to remember who prompted Dazai to think that, Chuuya. An idea born from Dazai’s relationship to another person, not the idea itself, was what made him join the mafia.

Ranpo is definitely autistic coded, but so is Dazai. Since No Longer Human was extremely influential on BSD, and that novel has a lot of autobiographical elements in it, it makes sense that Dazai seems autistic. After reading No Longer Human myself, I really do think that Osamu Dazai (the author) was autistic. Yōzō’s (the protagonist of No Longer Human) behavior is very autistic. I mean, at one point, he describes masking verbatim.

I’m mentioning this because I think that what Dazai hopes to understand is not a reason to live itself, but other people’s motivation to live. It’s an extension of the very autistic feeling of alienation from other people. Dazai thinks there’s something wrong with him because despite caring about other people a lot, he has trouble understanding their illogical behavior. He also struggles to understand his own illogical behavior.

I also think this is why Oda struggles to understand Dazai. Because people who aren’t autistic usually struggle to understand autism. Autistic people often get profiled as ‘sociopaths’ (an outdated term that refers to Antisocial Personality Disorder) and are seen as emotionless monsters.

Dazai distances himself from other people as a defense mechanism. In his own words, “I always lose the things I don’t want to lose the most. That’s why I don’t feel anything anymore. The moment you get your hands on something worth going after, you lose it. That’s just how things are. There is nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life of suffering.” I think that indicates that he cares very much about the people in his life, but that he also lives in constant fear of losing them.

Conclusion

I don’t know how well I articulated any of this (I’m neurodivergent, can you tell?), but my point is that Odasaku took a lot about Dazai at face value, instead of trying to peel back the layers and understand him as a person. He ended up dehumanizing Dazai a bit in the process.

Dazai is far from perfect, but he’s also not inhuman.

I think about this quote from Atsushi a lot, “People need to be told they’re worthy of being alive by someone else or they can’t go on.” Like, what would have happened if someone told Dazai his life was worth living even without some grand purpose?

[yuurei20]

Hi there! Quick question, How does Idia feel about Leona?? to me, they have such weird dynamic. They don't like each other but they don't outright hate each other either, but sometimes it feels like they're totally fine with each other?? Is this just a respect thing??

Hello hello!! This gets into character analysis which is definitely not my strength, so I reached out to one of the most knowledgeable Idia-analyzers I’ve ever seen ( @frost__tw ) who was so kind as to collaborate with me on this response, and I am forever grateful ♡

Also: agreed! Their dynamic is particularly fascinating because they are both complete opposites and extremely similar, simultaneously:

Both are housewardens, near the same height, canonically attractive, unusually intelligent, very sarcastic, enjoy chess, are from important families, keep others at a distance, often complain about having to go out of their way to do things they are uninterested in, have brother issues and won’t put effort into things they have predetermined to be impossible, which ties directly into how they are trapped in situations they can’t do anything about due to the circumstances of their birth.

And we also have their recently introduced titles (on JP server): “Ambitious King” and “King of the Underworld.”

It is difficult to pinpoint exactly how Idia feels about Leona, possibly because he doesn’t know very much about him (which is possibly because Leona doesn’t want him to).

During Book 6 he assumes that Leona isn’t suited to a leadership role, for example, despite how people who actually spend time with Leona say otherwise.

The two overlap in Idia’s second birthday vignette, where Leona gifts him with an artisanal chess set and the two pause the interview to play together.

They seem to mutually agree not to mention who won the game, and it may have been a draw.

We see Idia categorize people and generalize them into character tropes (from anime/manga/games) throughout the game, and based upon Leona’s appearance/outward behavior, Idia may labeling him as the scary top boss of the Savanaclaw hooligans (re: their Halloween vignette together) in his mind.

But he is able to overcome his initial flight response in this birthday vignette once Leona procures the chess set (one of Idia’s personal interests).

(This is part of the reason why Idia’s stutter is such an important part of the character: he stutters when he panics, but then speaks smoothly when he becomes passionate, which the characters even comment on in the game (Ortho calls it his "go off switch" on EN, and his "heat up switch" on JP).)

(Recreation of this trait varies by scene on EN.)

Leona is difficult to read because he will insult the people he likes and respects just as readily as he does those he does not (something that we see Jamil come to understand in real time during Book 6), so trying to work out his true opinion about anything can get into conjecture.

They also do not overlap particularly often, which gives us less to work with, but his teasing of Idia in the birthday vignette is not dissimilar to his teasing of characters like Jamil and Vil. Whereas they understand Leona’s humor, however, Idia may not.

What we know for a fact is that Leona has canonically complimented Idia for being both intelligent and powerful during Spectral Soiree, and this may have been a parallel to Terror is Trending when, extremely impressed by Savanaclaw’s Halloween set, Idia asks, “Did Leona use his magic for it?”

Idia also comments on Leona’s power during his evaluations at STYX, saying, “I already knew Leona was tough and could handle whatever danger comes at him…”

I think you are correct, and it is a respect thing!

They are both aware of the other’s familial situations and strengths and, in any other circumstances, they might get along well. But their personalities are just too different, they frustrate each other in every conversation they have, and whatever positives the other person has might just not be enough to outweigh how obnoxious they find the other to be.

We learn from Vil that the rule at NRC is “the weak obey the strong,” and the Housewardens at NRC seem to take this literally, with Idia, Leona and Vil all being constantly torn between sincere annoyance and grudging respect. The three referring to others as “spudlings,” “normies” and “herbivores” is another interesting overlap that they share.

(Despite being even more different than Leona and Idia, Leona and Vil repeatedly find common ground in allying against Idia.)

(In a parallel to this, Leona and Idia find common ground on the subject of Malleus, with Leona saying, “It’s a pain when the majority forces their opinion on you,” which is an opinion Idia seems to share.)

Thank you so much for this question, it was wonderful to dive into!

Overall, Leona and Idia seem to share a mutual undertone of “I know you’re the best at what you do, but I can’t stand you. I acknowledge that you’re intelligent, capable and talented, but please go be that somewhere else,” which ties directly into a comment from Yana’s 2023 interview:

“Since the characters in the story are villains they do not admit defeat, but they will admit, ‘Hey, you did pretty good.’ Even if they don’t like each other, they will recognize each other’s abilities.”

(And thank you again to @frost__tw for all the amazing insight! ♡)

[miss-ali-lawliet]

Meet my mouthwashing oc, Margot! Down below I will put down her info for you to get the gist of her character! She's my main oc in the fandom, and I adore her greatly.

She is endgame is Curly/Anya but pre-during game she finds herself stuck in a toxic relationship with Jimmy unfortunately, but depending on the verse she's in, she's able to break free and to pave a better future for herself (and a possible child she may have)

General info

Name: Margot

Nicknames: Maggie, Mags, May, Mar, etc.

Age: Early-mid thirties.

Gender: Female

Pronouns She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual / Poly

Height: 5'3

Extra: American

Looks

Hair:. She originally has brunette hair with a slight wave, but she dyed her hair to be a much lighter brown/almost blonde. Her darker roots show though. She also tends to style it via tying it in a low ponytail.

Skin: Margot has fair skin with freckles dotting her face and body.

Eyes: Her eyes are a pretty blue, looks gray in some lighting

Body type: She has a feminine body, her stomach isn't the flattest as it's a bit soft. But her time on the Pony Express has her losing weight over time.

Style: She wears the standard uniform like the others, but she likes to wear silly earrings and chokers to add more of a flair of her personality. Her favorite earrings are her strawberry ones.

Extra: Has a nose and ear piercings.

Background

The gist of Margot's backstory is that she grew up relatively well. She had a good upbringing with her family for the most part, and once she was old enough she would go to schooling for psychology and teaching. Initially going to be a therapist/counselor, she would get her main job as an elementary art teacher and a counselor that was willing to help her students. 

She LOVED her job and students very much, she even had a great reputation in the school and despite being the art teacher, a lot of students would end up going to her for support, to the point she was offered to be a secondary school counselor of sorts. Unfortunately, after years of her dedication to the school, things wouldn't last. Some issues occured to the point that she was let go from her job, likely issues with some parents or the school-board and district itself, or even worse it seemed to come out of no where. 

It absolutely devastated her, losing her job. It led to some rather poor coping skills afterwards as she tried to find work, but thankfully she would find herself in luck as her father knew someone who worked for the Pony Express company, getting her a recommendation and suggesting to her that this was a good break she needed to figure herself. It gave her a good payment at the end hopefully, and some time away from home to try to get herself back in order mentally so that when she came back, she could get back into the groove of things.

How could she say no to that? 

 Misc things

Likes: Food, she loves having sweets and healthy food like fruits and veggies or something with meat, she tries to eat healthy at least but she has her weaknesses. She likes funky jewelry and accessories and appearing nice/presentable, animals, having a connection with someone in some way (as friends or more), giving a voice to the voiceless. Sometimes questionable taste in people. 

Dislikes: Being alone for long periods of time, bitter tasting food, the taste of alcohol even if she drinks it sometimes, not being understood, making others feel negatively, feeling way too much or nothing at all. 

Bad habits/coping skills: Smoking, sleeping with others to try to feel something, drinking at times. Margot even tries to make herself look better than she actually is feeling for the sake of not causing issues/concerns for herself.

Fears: On top of the basic fear of death, she fears failure/being stuck somewhere she hates. She also fears not being there to help/do something when she can. She also has a fear of fire. She even has a fear of losing control over herself and situations.

Mental illness: Depression and anxiety are the main ones she's suffered all her life, it's only worsened after losing her dream job. Also has BPD (undiagnosed). 

[grandmother-goblin]

Apotheosis - Chapter 4

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Halsin gives Zilvira an explanation for the unfortunate comment that she overheard as they try to get past the Flaming Fist.

Relationships: Halsin x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 3.7k

Chapter Tags: Mentions of past trauma, implication that Halsin has PTSD, mentions of sexual assault.

Notes: A big, huge, thank you to @tragedybunny for beta-reading!

Shame burned across Halsin’s face, blazing over his cheek bones to the tips of his ears, intense enough to nearly mask the icy stillness in his chest.

When those words had come out of his mouth, he had thanked Silvanus that Zilvira hadn’t been around to hear them.

He hadn’t meant them.

It hadn’t even taken a second for regret to seep in, sliding into a simmering stew of confusion, melancholy, and quiet, long-forgotten, rage. He should have taken the words back right then and there, but he didn’t. Not even after Shadowheart gave him a look so scathing it would have made Shar smile.

“Why?” Zilvira’s choked question might as well have been a dagger piercing his heart.

Actually, Halsin might have preferred a dagger; at least he knew how to deal with those. But this? He wasn’t sure where to begin.

While Halsin had already reflected on what he had said in his nightly meditations, he never thought he would need to articulate it. He never thought he would be confronted with his mistake, nor have to apologize for it. At worst, he thought he might have to have an awkward conversation with Shadowheart.

Gods, Zilvira didn’t deserve to hear his moment of weakness. Some part of him was angry at her for eavesdropping on what he thought was a private conversation. Angry at the entire situation. And maybe that anger was justified.

But what he had said wasn’t.

“What did I do?” she asked, her voice so small and unlike anything he had heard from her before.

“You didn’t do anything,” he assured. “I never should have said that.”

Slowly, as to give her plenty of time to refuse his touch, Halsin gathered her delicate hands in his, needing that physical connection to ground him.

Damp, wine-red eyes reflected the moonlight as they met his. “Then why did you?”

That was the question he didn’t want to answer. But she deserved the truth — even if it was something that he was ashamed of. Something that he would have rather discussed when they were both in a sound state of mind.

But if he didn’t answer her now, he had a sinking feeling that she wouldn’t hear his answer later.

That he would lose her.

Clasping her hands tight, Halsin sat back on his heels and gazed up at her like a worshiper before the idol of a goddess. He swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as nervousness twisted in his gut.

“A long time ago,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady as not to betray his nerves. ”I found myself… a guest, one could call it, of a noble drow house during one of my expeditions to the Underdark. While I began my stay as a willing guest, it quickly became clear that I was anything but. The matron wanted me as a consort, a prisoner, and chained me to her bedchamber for three years.”

Before he could continue, Zilvira wriggled one hand from his grip. “Halsin, I’m so sorry,” she said as she clasped his hand in hers. “I had no idea.”

Halsin shook his head. “It was a long time ago, and it just isn’t something that normally crosses my mind,” he replied. ”But when we first got to Sharess’ Caress, Sorn and Nym somehow recognized me from back then. Though they didn’t say anything to my face, Sorn mentioned one of my captors by name.”

He remembered how Sorn’s eyes darted over him, as if noting his height and the tattoos on his face. How he had leaned toward his sister and whispered, “Doesn’t he remind you of Aunshalee’s old plaything?”

Aunshalee.

The name was like stone thrown into once calm waters, disturbing it for the first time in centuries. The last he heard that name, it was bellowed from the throat of a drow warrior, predatory and taunting as the woman called for Aunshalee’s head. Halsin didn’t stick around to find out if the warrior ever claimed her prize.

Hearing the name again, knowing that there were people who knew of his association with her even after so much time had passed, triggered something in his psyche. Something that made it feel like no time had passed at all. Like he was still a prisoner at the mercy of Aunshalee’s whims.

Part of him wanted to tell Zilvira everything about his time in the Underdark, about his relationship with Aunshalee, but she had already been through so much tonight. He didn’t want to turn the conversation to his past when Zilvira was hurting in the present.

“Aunshalee was a scholar who specialized in medicinal plants native to the Underdark, and she found me while I was doing research of my own,” Halsin continued. “When she learned that my research aligned with hers, she offered her aid. To teach me what she knew in exchange for a ‘surface-dweller’s’ insight on her work. Of course, the fool that I was, I accepted.

“I will spare you all of the details, but after weeks of working together, I got sick. Despite being a somewhat accomplished healer at the time, I couldn’t do anything to cure myself. When things got dire, Aunshalee brought me to her home and nursed me back to health. By the time I realized she had been the cause of my illness in the first place, she and the other drow wouldn’t let me leave. I was her prisoner from then until the day I escaped.

“Hearing her name again, and knowing that the twins recognized me from that chapter of my life, reopened some old wounds that I had long thought healed.” Halsin gave a shaky breath and shook his head, feeling a sense of nausea that he knew was all in his head.

Zilvira squeezed his hands. ”I’m sorry,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“You are the one who deserves an apology, not me,” he replied and held her hands just as tight as she held his. “I thought I hid how it had affected me, but Shadowheart seemed to notice my change in mood. As we spoke, more memories resurfaced. Resentment. Fear that my captors were lurking just around the corner. My mind went down a dark path and my past mixed with my present. For a moment, I had my guard up again.”

“And you were afraid I was like the drow who hurt you? Like Aunshalee?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, the thought crossed my mind,” he confessed. “But I don’t truly believe that. Unfortunately, that acknowledgement came after I made an ass of myself. I am sorry.”

What he had said was wrong, and he couldn’t unsay it no matter how he regretted it. He could only hope that she would give him a chance to prove to her that he didn’t mean it.

And he could only hope that she would truly believe him.

Zilvira swallowed and her eyes drifted from his. “Do you think all drow are like the ones who kidnapped you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t,” he said. “But I will admit that, my time in the Underdark aside, my only other experiences with drow have been… less than ideal. You’re the first one I’ve met that hasn’t tried to harm me in some way. Unless you count the time you elbowed me in the stomach because you thought I was an undead.”

A small upward twitch at the corner of her lips might as well have been a full blown smile. In her defense, she replied, “You snuck up on me.”

Halsin chuckled. “Not on purpose.”

Strangely enough, despite how she had knocked the wind out of him, that moment was one of his fondest memories with her. He remembered the utter mortification on her face and the way her hands clasped over her mouth as she muttered dozens of apologies while he laid supine in the dirt. Her seemingly endless apologies only ceased the moment Halsin had started laughing. Once she was absolutely certain he had nothing more than a bruised diaphragm, she had joined him.

It wasn’t the way any of the drow women he had ever known would have responded to the situation, and that moment had given him some reassurance about her that he didn’t know he needed.

Zilvira lifted her hand from his to swipe away another tear from her cheek. “Gods,” Zilvira said, her tone lighter than before. “Here I was, thinking you secretly hated me or I did something wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

As if absorbing his words, she nodded slowly. Her eyes flickered back to where the spider had been building its web — a perfect masterpiece of nature sequestered in a dismal city alleyway — but the spider was nowhere to be seen.

“Are we okay?” Halsin asked after a few moments of listening to the waves below and the distant chatter of people. Though he felt the conversation went as well as it could have, uncertainty lingered in the forefront of his mind.

Part of him feared that his explanation and apology wasn’t enough. That he had ruined things between them all because of some careless words and she would never forgive him. Maybe he didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Or her friendship. If he lost her over this… well, he had a feeling a few bottles of wine would go missing from their camp supplies.

Zilvira sniffled. “We’re okay,” she said. “I’m still a little mad at you, but I’ll get over it.”

A rush of relief washed through him like a broken dam, relaxing the muscles he didn’t realize he was tensing and easing the tension coiled in his chest. “If it would help, you’re welcome to elbow me in the stomach again. I’ll give you one free shot.”

She playfully pushed his shoulder. “Given my coordination right now, I’d probably miss,” she said with a tired laugh. “I’d rather just go to bed.”

Halsin couldn’t help the grateful smile that tugged at his lips. “Come on, then,” he said, and carefully helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you back to camp.”

—

After days of dealing with feelings of hurt, betrayal, and heartache, after failing to hold back her tears, part of Zilvira’s mind didn’t want to forgive him. He hurt her, so he couldn’t be forgiven until he felt the same hurt too, right? Yet, the reasonable part of her mind chided her, telling her that she was being petty and immature.

That she still loved him. And because she loved him, and he went out of his way to explain himself, even if it didn’t paint him in the most flattering light, she forgave him.

She was still a little miffed about the entire situation, but she forgave him.

If that made her weak, then so be it. She could at least look him in the eye again and know that he didn’t secretly hate her.

Zilvira adjusted her hold on Halsin’s arm as they slowly made their way toward the entrance to Wyrm’s crossing. With the Shar’s Oblivion lingering in her system, she still couldn’t completely trust her feet. If it wasn’t for Halsin keeping her steady, she would have stumbled over the cobblestone or drifted into a civilian passing by a half a dozen times by now.

The Emperor had been right before: Halsin has always had her best interest at heart. Even when she was trying her damndest to avoid him, it didn’t stop him from caring when she needed help.

Prior to overhearing Halsin’s unfortunate comment, she had never once doubted the sincerity of his friendship. That he cared for her the way she cared for him. While his explanation for his comment wasn’t what she expected, she believed him when he said he didn’t mean it.

From what little he told her, and judging by his reaction, she had a feeling that his experience with the drow was far worse than she imagined. Then for him to notice two strangers casually recognizing him from a horrendous chapter of his life, one he thought he had left behind, out of nowhere? If she had been in his shoes, she might’ve responded poorly as well.

She would never be able to fully comprehend what he had been feeling at the time — any bad experience she had couldn’t begin to compare to what he went through — but she could accept it. Sometimes, that had to be enough. Even if she couldn’t completely understand or relate.

Later, perhaps sometimes tomorrow, they could discuss it more if he was willing. But for now, all she needed to know was that he said those words in a moment of foggy antipathy, that he didn’t mean them, and he was sorry.

That was enough.

“We may have a problem up ahead,” Halsin said, stopping the two of them in the shadow of a closed market stall. One that sold fish, from the smell of it, and Zilvira wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Halsin cocked his chin toward four Flaming Fist soldiers and a Steel Watcher guarding the gate that would lead them into Rivington. “If Jack kept his word,” he whispered, “they’re going to be looking for us. It’ll probably be safest if we go around.”

Go around?

Oh no. Nope. She did not like that idea one bit.

There was an outdoor storage area, just under the gate’s guardhouse, that was only a few feet away from the steep hillside that anchored Wyrm’s Crossing to Rivington. On a normal day, the jump was easy enough for her and her companions to clear, but the consequences for missing that jump were falling dozens of meters into the bay. Or, with her luck, breaking every bone in her body on the rocks on the beach. In her current condition, she couldn’t trust her feet to play hopscotch.

“You want me to make that jump?” she asked Halsin, slowly and incredulously.

He made a humming sound as his lips flattened into a thin line, as though he were trying to think of alternatives. “If we don’t want to be here all night, I don’t think we have much of a choice,” he said with a sigh. “I should be able to get you across without issue with some vines.”

Though the idea didn’t exactly instill the confidence Zilvira would have liked, she was far too tired to argue with him. She just wanted to get back to camp, and be surrounded by people who made her feel safe. If Halsin said he was able to get her across the gap, then she would have to trust him.

She let him guide her toward the far side of the guard tower, then carefully down the stairs that wrapped around the wooden exterior to the storage room beneath. Dim yellow light from the room above them seeped through the floorboards, telling her that there was likely someone in the room above. Probably more Flaming Fist. As long as she and Halsin didn’t draw any attention to themselves, she wouldn’t need to find out.

They slipped between stacks of crates and, fortunately for them, no one had bothered to fix the broken railing that opened up the storeroom to the hillside.

“I’ll jump across,” Halsin said in a hushed tone, turning to her in the darkness, “and then—”

A door slammed and Zilvira’s heart leapt into her throat.

“There you are, asshole,” boomed a male voice above them as the sound of footsteps and shadows grew closer. “You could’ve told us you weren’t going to show. We ended up having to pay tonight.”

“I got thrown out,” a nonplussed voice answered, but one she immediately recognized.

Her stomach sank as she looked to Halsin, hoping that perhaps the long night was making her hear things. But when he stared back at her, with his brows drawn and his jaw tense, there was no mistaking that he recognized the voice too.

Jack.

“Yeah, Byan and I heard you picked a fight with someone twice your size,” the first voice said. “Fucking idiot.”

“Rhenn, I’ve fought Goliaths,” Jack replied as if Rhenn was the one who was a massive idiot.

Zilvira knew the answer: they were both morons.

The faint smell of cigar smoke wafted through the floorboards as Jack continued, “I know how to deal with the big guys,” he said as if holding something in his mouth. “The guy seemed like a pussy. Didn’t expect him to turn into a fucking bear.”

“Oh, so you can handle a Goliath but not a bear?” another voice, presumably Byan, quipped. He sounded much younger than the other two — definitely not a child but certainly no older than his early twenties.

“Caught me off guard,” Jack said defensively. Ash from his cigar drifted through the floorboards and directly onto Halsin’s leathers, and Zilvira brushed it away. “Not used to dealing with druids, especially not ones who can change shape faster than I can throw a punch. Fortunately, he’s easy to keep an eye out for. Now, pull up a seat, play cards with me. We can try again tomorrow.”

Wood scraped against wood, and shadows crossed over her and Halsin as the men dragged chairs to the spot directly above them. Halsin wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled them into a crouch, putting a bit of distance between them. Though there was little chance that Jack and his friends could spot them through the floor, getting low and ducking into the shadows made her feel a little bit safer.

But not by much.

“I should make you pay me back for the whore I had to buy so we didn’t blow our cover,” the one called Rhenn said, talking as if he were just business over a cup of coffee. “I was looking forward to fucking the drow chick. Did you see her lips? They would’ve looked so good around my cock.”

There was a snort of laughter.

“What? It’s true.”

Jack circled back to the original point. “If you didn’t want to blow your cover, why didn’t you two—”

“No way,” Rhenn said with a chuckle. “I’ll share a girl with a guy or two, but that’s as far as I‘ll go. I wouldn’t touch Byan even if you paid me to.”

Byan gave a sigh that said he was used to this sort of talk. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Beneath her hand, Halsin’s muscles tensed. Zilvira caught a glimpse of golden light cutting across his eyes as he clenched his jaw. Then, he breathed deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth. In and out. Holding himself back.

If Halsin wildshaped now, she doubted the men just above them wouldn’t notice the transformation. Even if they couldn’t see it, Halsin’s bear form wasn’t known for its subtlety.

“Halsin,” she whispered close to his ear, having no idea where she was going with that sentence. What could she say? Please don’t get mad on her behalf? Calm down? Because telling someone to calm down when they were agitated always went over well.

Hells, she had no business trying to calm Halsin with the way a high-pitched ringing sound built in her ears and her stomach contorted itself. Her cheeks chilled from the blood draining from her face, the implications of what could’ve happened to her that night rushing into her head all at once.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

But being sick would have to wait, because she had an angry druid threatening to turn into a bear next to her.

Zilvira placed her hand over Halsin’s chest, his warmth seeping into her palm, and leaned her cheek against his bicep. “Halsin, please,” she said, hoping that her presence and her touch might rein in the beast.

Fortunately for both of them, it seemed to work. The aureate glow emanating from his eyes dimmed as he shook his head, as if the small motion could alleviate his remaining tension. When he looked at her, her pulse quickened at the intensity of his gaze — one that was protective and underlying with barely restrained rage.

Possessive.

Then he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. “We should go before I kill them,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear him, and she wasn’t sure how literally he meant those words.

At that moment, she hoped he meant them very literally. In the morning she knew she would regret thinking that way, but after everything she had just been through… she could have some vengeful ideations.

With his arm still firmly wrapped around her, Halsin turned his attention to the hillside across from the storeroom. Slowly, with just a simple gesture of his hand, thick vines sprouted from the earth and grew toward Halsin as if they were chasing sunlight. As more and more grew, building a makeshift bridge, Halsin directed them to weave around the floorboards at their feet.

“Shame that powder ended up wasted,” came Rhenn’s voice again as Halsin tested the sturdiness of the vines. “How much do you have left?”

“At least a dozen doses,” Jack replied as Halsin gathered Zilvira into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Now let’s play. I don’t want to think about this shit any more tonight.”

That was a sentiment she could agree with. She just wanted the night to be over. To cuddle into her blankets and meditate on happier times.

She looped her arms around Halsin’s neck as he cautiously, but confidently, crossed the vines and the voices of those awful men faded behind them. Once they were safely across, he withered the vines with another gesture of his hand, letting the dried and dead plant matter collapse into the water below.

“Do you think you’ll be able to walk back with me, or do you want me to carry you the rest of the way?” Halsin asked as they reached some flatter ground.

“I can make it as long as you’re still willing to help me,” she replied.

Gently, he set her down on her feet, keeping his hands on her waist until he was certain she had found some semblance of balance. “Of course,” he said. “Whatever you need.”

Zilvira felt her face warm at the way he said those words, his striking hazel eyes locking onto her own. That warmth faded as she caught a bit of movement over his shoulder from the window of the guard tower and she swallowed.

Jack had spotted them. For a moment, she watched him watching her, fighting the urge to run.

And by the time Halsin turned around, Jack had disappeared.

---

Beginning

Previous Chapter

[cloudcountry]

sit on my lap & do my eyeliner

Genre/Tropes: SIT ON MY LAP AND DO MY EYELINER!!!!!!!!!!!! That's it.

Summary: Ruggie Bucchi sits on your lap and fixes your eyeliner before your second year orientation ceremony.

Author's Comments: Based on home screen dialogue because uhhhh I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately!!! (It's his ceremonial robes, he mentions doing makeup as a side job and I was like oh?) Also Leona finally graduated!!! Everyone say yaaay!!

~~~~~

You never thought you’d find yourself wearing the ceremonial robes that you’d met everyone else in. You never thought you would have ended up staying another year at Night Raven College, but Crowley had yet to find a way to send you home so you were stuck. In these robes.

You’d always thought they were pretty. Wearing them now, however, you finally felt the weight that Ace often complained about. Deuce had helped you with the belt as Ace whined in the background, his hands working quickly so as not to lose time. At least you three had wrestled Grim into his first, since he was definitely the more problematic of you two when it came to wearing required garments. If they hadn’t come early to help you, you two would have ended up late, and Riddle would have had your heads.

You thanked the two profusely for their help, though Ace did nothing. He stuck his tongue out when you tacked that onto the end of his thank you, whining about how that was unnecessary. (He was cute, but it was very necessary.)

You knew Ace and Deuce were feeling the loss of their upperclassmen, Trey and Cater. Ace kept grumbling something about Riddle being even more insufferable now that he was a Junior, but you disagreed. Riddle had shown immense amounts of growth (not the height kind, you thought to yourself, but that would probably never change) during your stay here, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him for it. They’d all come so far from last year, and they’d all done more than enough to make you feel welcomed at NRC, maybe even enough for you to consider it your second home. In a moment of emotion, you felt a tear well up in your eye. Clenching your eyes shut so as to not worry your three companions, you started your walk to the ceremony hall. It seemed like only yesterday you were in the library, being lectured by Crowley about the rules of this school and the conditions under which you’d stay here. 

Hopefully there wouldn’t be any overblots this year.

“Perfect, look! It’s the Savanaclaw guys.” Ace hissed, mouth twisted up in a frown. He must have still been bitter about the loss in the Spelldrive Tournament.

“Hello, Prefect.” Jack greeted, nodding his head.

Ruggie chuckled beside him, his eyes shining with mischief. “Now now, Prefect. Your eyeliner is messed up! Were you crying?”

“Hey, don’t start. The Perfect has been away from their family for an entire school year. You don’t need to mock them.” Deuce said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah! What Juice said.” Ace huffed, Grim nodding adamantly beside him.

“Don’t call me that! You still can’t get my name right?! It’s been a year!” Deuce yelled.

“Oh relax, I’m only teasing.” Ruggie ignored them and addressed you, “I can fix that for you. I used to do it as a part time job. You guys can go on ahead. Jack, take the froshes to the ceremonial hall.”

“Got it.” Jack nodded, ushering the freshmen down the hall.

“We’re staying with the Prefect!” Ace insisted.

“Yeah! You’re not pulling a fast one on me, weirdo!” Grim yelled, pushing himself up against your leg.

“Guys, it’s okay. You wouldn’t want to make Riddle mad.” you smiled at your friends, patting Grim on the head., “I wouldn’t want you to miss anything.”

“Prefect…” Deuce sighed but nodded, lifting Grim into his arms, “Hurry, okay?”

“He’ll be quick.” you assured them, trying to ignore the snort that escaped Ruggie at that.

“Last one there’s a rotten egg!” Ace cackled, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Go before Riddle collars you!” you yelled back as he laughed.

With your three friends following behind Savanaclaw, you turned back to Savanaclaw’s new Housewarden. He dug through his robes and produced eyeliner from somewhere in the folds, waving it in front of your face.

“Thank you for offering to fix my makeup. I didn’t trust Ace and Deuce with it and they certainly didn’t want to put their fingers near my eye. Said it was scary.” you shook your head.

“It’s a pleasure. You owe me a grilled cheese after this.” Ruggie laughed, “Come here, sit down on that bench over there.”

You followed his directions and sat down, placing your hands in your lap as you looked up at him.

“Now now…” he clicked his tongue, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “Make some room for me, Prefect! Put your hands on the bench.”

“What do you mean?” you blinked, pulling your hands on the cold bench seat.

“Better.” Ruggie mused, sitting onto your thighs and opening the eyeliner in one fluid motion.

You yelped, eyes wide. Ruggie laughed as he cupped your face gently, tilting your head to get a better angle.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” his eyes were gleaming again, the mischievous smirk from before returning, “I can do your eyeliner better like this.”

You placed your hands on his hips, trying not to flinch as he brought the eyeliner to your eyelid. Ruggie faltered at the sudden contract, but quickly got over it and made himself comfortable.

“Of course. I’ll try to be still.” you hummed, letting him get to work on your face.

Ruggie was only doing some quick touch ups, styling your eyeliner with expert precision. You could tell he wasn’t lying when he said he knew how to do this- you’d have to ask him to do your makeup again sometime.

“There.” Ruggie pulled away, still cupping your face gently, “That’s good.”

He dug through the folds of his robes again and pulled out a compact mirror, flicking it open and turning it to face you. You marveled at his work, tilting your head this way and that.

“You did so well, Ruggie! Thank you so much.” you beamed.

“Of course, of course. Now you owe me a grilled cheese! Don’t forget about that!” he hopped off your lap, the comforting weight of him vanishing as the space filled with cold air.

You furrowed your brow at the loss, embarrassed that you’d wanted him to stay like that. To make up for it, you offered him your hand. His ears twitched as he glanced from your hand to your face, another smirk spreading across his lips.

“Don’t worry, I’ve never cheated you out of a deal before.” you said.

“Now you want to hold my hand, too? That’ll cost you double.” he teased, taking your hand immediately.

“Hey, you got to sit in my lap. It’s only fair.” you shot back, squeezing his hand as you tugged him along.

“Hmm…I guess you’re right.” he snickered, suddenly pulling ahead of you and taking off down the hallway.

“Ruggie!” you shrieked, rushing to catch up to his speed, “You’re going to mess up our robes!”

“Then I’ll just fix those for you too!” he looked back at you and winked.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not comforting a child after her science project didn't work?

( 💞💥 to find)

Okay this was a while ago but I still think about it sometimes and I'm genuinely unsure of if I did the right thinh.

So I (15F at the time) was a part of a science league thing facilitated by my school. Basically, you would meet after school once a week to study/work on projects, and then go to a competition in the spring against other schools. There were a bunch of different categories and activities but they were primarily separated into ones you had to study for (and would then take a test on) or build for (like a wheeled vehicle or a model plane, which would be graded). It was really fun and low-key compared to the sports programs at my school, so I liked it a lot.

A friend of mine, who we'll call S (15F) was also in the science league. We did a lot of study based competitions together, and usually placed in the competitions. During our third year, her youngest sister, M (12ish), joined the league. She was a really sweet and smart kid, and she was interested in trying a building based event. You needed two people to enter an event, so I volunteered to build a marble rollercoaster with her. M also grouped up with a girl in her grade for another building project (I think it was a plane).

Because M was doing two building events (which were predictably a lot more time consuming than the study events) and the school musical, we agreed I would create the plans for the rollercoaster and get the materials together. Now, each building events came with a printed copy of parameters and optional features that could get us bonus points. I decided on attempting for three bonus features (two jumps and a loop). Between designing on paper, adapting for the parameters, measuring out the track lengths, and gathering materials (that of which I had to switch out half way through), the whole process took me about four months to complete, and that was just the planning. We were getting pretty close to the competition date when we started to actually assemble the damn thing (at this point she had finished up her other stuff and was able to help me more consistently), and we were having a lot of issues with getting the track pieces to fit together. As I remember it, the problem came from having to fold the track over a bunch of times so it would stay in the 30cm-somethingish width parameter. The Thursday before the competition (which was in Saturday), M volunteered to take the coaster home and finish it there. I was honestly so relieved when she said this, because I knew through S that her dad was really handy, and like mini trebuchets and stuff for fun.

Flash forward to the event, when we're boarding the bus going to the school hosting the competition. She gets on with a cardboard box, and excitedly shows me a marble rollercoaster that is absolutely not what she left with at all. For reference, the original plan for the coaster was made of pvc pipe, which I spent around three weeks measuring out and cutting with a band saw in the shop room. This rollercoaster was two pieces of plywood with tinfoil tracks that you leaned against the cardboard box she was carrying it in. She hadn't included any of the extra features I had implemented to get us extra points. While I was shocked and admittedly pretty pissed I didn't say anything because she was a) a kid and b) I assumed that there was probably some issue that had arisen in testing that necessitated the changes. When we went to impound she struggled a lot with setting it up and the three pieces weren't attached with anything and were literally just leaning against each other. At this point it was also visually obvious that the width want way beyond 30 cms, and when the judges came around to measure, it turned out that it was above the allotted height too. M was looking really nervous about now, so I assured her that most of the time, the marbles don't even make it down the coaster tracks, and as long as our marble makes it to the end we should be able to place. Except, when it came time to release our marble, it moved for about three seconds before getting stuck in the tinfoil. We were allowed to try two more times, and it got stuck in the same place each time.

M was very visibly upset, and looking back I think she was on the verge of tears. It can't really remember what I said; I know I didn't say anything malicious or accusatory, though. Honestly, I think I might have just stood there in silence, because I was honestly really fucking angry that she ditched my design for no apparent reason and didn't bother to check any of the available rules or even test her design. But I don't think that anger justified leaving a little kid without support when she was upset.

tldr: When I was a teenager I didn't comfort my friends little sister after our marble rollercoaster didn't work because she had ditched the design I had made for one that broke parameters.

[orion-archives]

For the ask meme- all the questions for Bayverse Sentinel please

AAAAAAA–

Sorry for the late response, this took a while:

1. Canon I outright reject

I don’t think I have any. I really like how his character is.

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

He wanted to bring Cybertron not because it was his home or because he loved it like Optimus or Megatron. He wanted to bring Cybertron back because he was adored and worshiped like a god there. On Earth, while he was still a leader and well-respected by the Autobots, he wasn’t looked by humans like a god or even a king.

He was just another machine.

And he didn’t like that.

3. Obscure headcanon

He’s Megatron and Optimus’ biological dad.

4. Favorite line

“We were gods once, all of us! But here there will only be one!”

5. Best personality trait

His intelligence and how he can appear so kind when he wants (if I didn’t know better, I would trust him with my life and to gently hold me)

6. Worst personality trait

His massive ego.

7. Age/height/weight headcanon

Age: He’s older than Megatron and Optimus but not the same age as, for example, The Fallen (that mf is A N C I E N T)

Height: Taking Megatron’s canon height in consideration, I hc Sentinel is 33 feet or around 10 meters (slightly shorter than Megatron [I hc Megatron unconsciously lowers his body to appear smaller or the same height around Sentinel until he snaps] and taller than Optimus)

Weight: No idea, I suck at guessing/making weights.

8. Unpopular opinion about them

He was never in the right, he was not a hero. Just because humanity later turned against the transformers, that doesn’t mean Sentinel was in the right in trying to enslave and wipe out humanity.

Also, he isn’t a false Prime and the Matrix wouldn’t have rejected him. People say he refused it because he knew the Matrix would turn into dust because he was planning to betray the Autobots, but let’s remember the facts that:

A) It floated on his hand, so he is a true Prime.

B) The Fallen was able to not just have it float on his hand but actually TOUCH the Matrix in the second film even after all the things he did.

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

Love: His talk with Optimus on the mountains/nature.

Hate: When he betrayed the Autobots, killed Ironhide, Mudflap and Skids, threatened Mearing to take her with him and force her to watch as he murdered every single human –no matter if it was a man, woman, elder or child– if he wasn’t given the pillars and almost stomped to death Sam and Lennox (mix of movie, comic and book)

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)

His final fight with Optimus (and Megatron in the book)

11. Faceclaim for the role

Leonard Nimoy, his VA for Dark of the Moon.

I mean… look at him! They obviously used him as base for Sentinel’s design (I love when that happens)

12. Crack headcanon

His beard is really soft (as soft as metal can be. Soft for cybertronian standards)

13. Dumbest thing they've ever done

Attacking Megatron when he declared they would rebuild Cybertron together. Like, Sentinel, you stupid bitch, HE IS YOUR ALLY. AND HE NEVER SAID YOU WOULD WORK FOR HIM, HE SAID T-O-G-E-T-H-E-R.

If he hadn’t done that (twice in the book), Megatron probably would have never turned against him.

Dumbass.

14. Most heroic moment

Uhh…

15. Worst thing they've ever done

Trying to enslave humanity and commit massive genocide on the rest of Earth.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

Deep down, a small part of him regrets betraying Optimus and during the Chicago battle, Sentinel wished to have had Optimus on his side instead of Megatron.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them

Hohoho, I actually have a few:

• Good to be King

• Babylon

• Thunder Bringer

• Crucified

18. What they'd go to see a therapist about

God complex (Optimus would have to drag him to see the therapist)

19. Vices/bad habits

There aren’t any canon ones, but I headcanon he overtrains to the point of injury. Following that, I also hc he did this with Megatron in his teenage/young adult years to prepare him to be High Protector of Cybertron once they found the Allspark.

20. Scars

None as far as I know/headcanon.

21. Drink of choice (not just alcoholic)

High grade or normal energon but if he could, he would drink gallons of coffee in a single sitting. I just know it.

22. Best physical feature

…MaY I sPEAK (joking)

I really like his ear-things, the shape of his chest and the things he has on his back.

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

He probably smells like smoke, hot metal and burned oil, but Sentinel gives me the vibe of almonds, olive or grapes for some reason.

24. Most annoying habit

Not sure. Maybe constantly feeling his position threatened and reminding others of it (like he did with Megatron and Mearing)?

25. 3 things they'd want to take with them if they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere

The pillars, the Primax Blade and his rust cannon.

26. What they would do if stuck in an elevator with [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

If it’s Optimus, have a chat with him.

If it’s Megatron, try to be as far as possible from him in the elevator.

If it’s a human, step on them “““accidentally”””

27. Their guilty pleasure

I’m gonna take a guess and say walking through Earth’s landscapes.

28. How they feel about [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

Optimus: “My favorite, brave, almost perfect, a great cybertronian, my heir… but too soft and not willing in taking difficult decisions”

Megatron: “Good war machine, a firm believer of my words yet I don’t like the rest of him and feel ashamed how he ended up”

Or at least that's how I see it.

29. Eating habits (hc)

Fairly normal, but I headcanon he has a sweet tooth and enjoys cybertronians treats.

30. Sleeping habits (hc)

Terrible. He’s the type of person that will sleep a 10 minute nap and call it enough, though he will recharge at one point for a long period of time when his body can no longer keep up. Then, the cycle repeats.

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like?

Idk :(

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh

Spending time with his favorite son, Optimus, a compliment from anyone, any show of respect/devotion to him.

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry

…

34. How they react when they are feeling X emotion (sad, angry, excited, scared, etc.— can specify as many as you like)

Oh, yes, headcanon time!

• Happy: Smiling, ears up, chest puffed.

• Angry: Frowning, ears pinned (the more low they are, the more angry he is), teeth clenched, narrowing eyes, standing straight to full height, the cylinders in his chest roll slowly.

• Excited: Ears twitch, eyebrows lifted, cylinders roll quickly.

• Sad: Ears dropped, eyebrows downwards, eyes shine is dimmer, shoulders go down.

• Scared: Ears can be slightly pinned (danger is visible) or fully erect (sensing danger), pupils shrink, body is tense, cylinders roll quickly.

• Flirty/playful: Ears twitch or point in different directions (one can be lower than the other one), one eyebrow lifted, confident smile.

35. Their idea of a perfect day

On Cybertron, a sunny day without problems, walk around, get a few compliments/bows, chat with Optimus, drink some high grade energon and enjoy the sunset.

36. Their favorite season

I think it would be summer. After living for who knows how long in darkness on Cybertron, I think Sentinel would enjoy summer and the longer days it brings along the warmth.

37. What they really think about themselves

They are above everyone and everything else since creation.

38. Favorite holiday

He doesn’t have one.

39. Favorite game

AmOnG uS (I’m kidding, he’s a boomer)

Cybertronian equivalent of chess, maybe?

40. Favorite book

I don’t know.

41. If they could have lunch with anyone in the world (living or dead, from any fictional universe or the real world), who would it be?

Primus.

42. 3 comfort items

Uh…

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise

UHH…

44. Their happiest memory

Restoring Cybertron by finding the Allspark and becoming ruler of the planet.

45. Their favorite celebrity

Primus (does God count as a celebrity–)

46. The person they most admire

Primus.

47. Their dream job

Being a Prime (he already is)

48. Scariest moment of their life

When Starscream shot down the Ark when he was escaping with the pillars to meet with Megatron.

49. Favorite toy as a child

I don’t know…

50. A memory they've blocked out

He remembers raising Optimus and telling him stories about greatness and the legends of the Primes and the Allspark… but he has long forgotten also raising Megatron with the same tales (half headcanon, half canon)

Ask game here!